by Sentry Press, New York, N. Y. 10019
TO
MY WIFE
a lover of ships
The author gratefully acknowledges his debt to
Frank Wood and William H. Tripp of the
Whaling Museum of New Bedford, for their
splendid cooperation—and to Clifford
W. Ashley and his most admirable
book “The Yankee Whaler”
FOREWORD
Turning the pages of Gordon Grant’s pictured story of whaling, it suddenly struck me that the task of writing an introduction had certain unusual features. Acting as a liaison officer between Captain Ahab of the whaling ship Pequod and the sheltered generation of 1932, it is necessary to bear in mind that most members of this generation are unaware that whaling is still an industry. They imagine it as part of the closed book of New England maritime history. They regard it romantically, and the ancient masthead shout, “Thar she blows!” is familiar to the ladies and gentlemen who patronize the fast Atlantic ferries. Whaling, in short, has become an antique interest, and visitors to New Bedford may study the whole business in the collection of the Old Dartmouth Historical Society.
The difference between this adventurous and romantic calling and the modern whaleship is precisely the difference between pig-sticking as practised by army officers in India and the stock-yards of Chicago and Argentina. Making all allowance for the New Englander’s passion for gain, there had to be some sporting instinct to send men out on “lays” instead of wages, and to make them follow, year after year, so dangerous a trade. It was only when another sporting chance came along, the chance of the golden west, of striking further and further beyond the ranges, that the New Englanders abandoned the whaling to foreigners. The interest our antiquarians have in whaling is therefore a sound one. It was a manifestation of the pioneer mentality; and when that mentality was directed into other channels, whaling lost prestige and became as prosaic as cod-fishing in modern times.