This town is well laid out, the houses mostly one story. The streets are of good width and clean. This city was also destroyed in 1746 by an earthquake, and remains are yet to be seen as gloomy monuments placed over the ill-fated persons who were thus suddenly cut off. There is a railroad building from Callao to Lima, which is but seven miles distant. About 4 P.M. the captain and Mr. Lowe returned, and we filled away for Payta.
CHAPTER XI.
Payta.—Its Appearance.—Inhabitants.—Shipped three Spaniards.—Gamming.—Exchanged Boat-steerers.—Gloomy Forebodings.—Whales again.—Stove Boat.—Manuel overboard.—No Sunday off Soundings.—Mackey and the Mate.—Star-gazing.—Reflections.—A County Fair.—Lawrence in Trouble.
On Thursday, 25th of April, we were off the anchorage of Payta. The land here presents a bleak, barren appearance; not a tree or shrub in sight; nothing but sand and rocks as far as the eye can reach. Water is furnished the inhabitants by persons who make it a business, and bring it a long distance in skins on mules. The streets of this town are narrow and dirty; the houses are miserable; women and men dissipated and ugly-looking; fleas abundant, and loafers plenty.
While on shore here the captain shipped three green Peruvians, who answered to the cognomens of Manuel Maria, Tom, and Jack; the last two soon getting additions to their titles, making them “Spanish Tom” and “Nigger Jack.” We now squared our yards, made sail, and bid farewell to this outlandish hole, and also to the South American coast. We here spoke and gammed with the “President,” of Nantucket, and the “Marcus,” of Fairhaven, bound home. This gave us another opportunity of sending a line to the “loved ones at home,” which we were glad to improve. One of our boat-steerers, having been on the sick-list nearly all the voyage, expressed a wish to return home in the “Marcus.” Accordingly, an arrangement was soon made between the two captains, and we took a Mr. Smith in exchange. All bid Gifford an affectionate farewell, hoping he might be spared to reach his native land, and be restored to the bosom of his family. Farewell, Gifford—a long farewell. You are going to your own dear home; you will soon be clasped in the embrace of a dear mother and affectionate sisters. God grant that your life may be spared, that you may enjoy these blessings.
We are bound for the cruising grounds to the westward, with some three or four years yet before us ere we can behold those that are near and dear to us; and how many of our small company may be spared to again tread their native shores, God alone knows. Let us yield a cheerful compliance to the will of the Almighty, knowing that we are safe in His hands, and in faith say, “Thy will, not mine, be done, O Lord.” With heavy hearts we squared our yards and headed for our cruising grounds.
On Monday, May 13th, spoke ship “Rebecca Sims,” of New Bedford, with whose ship’s company we passed a very pleasant day. How cheering to the lone mariner while cruising, with no land in sight, and thousands of miles from our own home, to meet a ship from the same port, and a crew speaking the same language as ourselves! It is like meeting old friends.
On Saturday, the 25th of May, we raised a school of sperm whales. We immediately down boats and after them. After some pretty hard pulling, the chief mate’s boat fastened to a cow whale, and killed it. During the melee the boat was badly stove, and our giant Manuel, the Portugee, knocked overboard. The whale was running with great speed at the time, and, as a matter of course, poor Gee was soon left a long distance astern. However, one of the other boats, seeing what had transpired, came to the rescue, and Manuel was picked up. When they reached him he was striking out manfully for the boat, which was now miles ahead of him, and calling on all the saints in the calendar for help at the top of his voice. He was an excellent swimmer, but greatly frightened; so much so that some of the boat’s crew that picked him up declared that he was ten shades lighter. At sundown we had the jacket of the whale on deck.
The next day was Sunday, but not Sabbath. On all whalers, while at sea, mast-heads are manned, whales chased and captured, cut in and tried out on Sunday as much as any other day in the week. Nothing else, however, except what is absolutely necessary for navigating the ship, is done on this day, which is generally spent by the crew in reading and writing. To-day, while all hands were busily employed in cutting up the blubber, trying out, and clearing up the decks generally, the mate missed our friend Mackey from his post, which was to assist in hoisting the blubber from the blubber-room. He accordingly went forward to the forecastle, and, calling out, asked him what he was doing below.
Mackey replied, “Breaking out my chest to get a chaw o’ tobacco.”