As the oil filled the kettles, it was bailed off into a copper cooling tank—then to casks on deck where it cooled thoroughly for a day or two before being stowed away in the hold.
BAILING THE CASE
If the whale was small, the case was hoisted on deck where it was laid open and the liquid spermaceti saved with scoops and dippers,—but if it was too heavy for this it was secured to the side of the ship, nose end down. A hole was cut into the reservoir and a “case bucket” rigged from the mainyard and manipulated by four men,—one to handle the bucket, two on the guy lines to force it down by means of the pole, and the fourth to hoist and lower.
This oil often amounted to as much as thirty barrels of liquid spermaceti, which had only to be headed up without further treatment.
To this day there has been found no equal to this oil for the lubricating of watches and fine machinery.
CLEANING SHIP
By the time the oil was tried out and the stripped carcass cast adrift to make a royal feast for sharks and seabirds, the ship was a slithery mass of oil, gurry, and blood,—to which was added the effects of clouds of smut and black smoke from the try works.
All hands turned to clean ship. Ashes from the fires were sprinkled on the deck and bulwarks, and brooms and scrubbers were plied until she gleamed again,—except aloft, where the sails hung black and an affront to the eyes of clippermen. When the kettles had been scrubbed inside until they shone like silver punchbowls, the men turned their attention to themselves and their clothes.