Life and Adventure in the South Pacific

by John D. Jones

“Two heads of tobacco,” shouted the man.

In a moment Jack was overboard, and in a few seconds had the hat. Placing it on his head, he started for the ship. Although it was nearly calm, yet the ship was going slowly through the water, and the breeze happened to be freshening. At every stroke Jack would make he would lose the hat off, and, stopping to pick it up, he found he was losing ground. He now tried a new experiment—throwing it ahead of him, and then swimming to it; then throwing it again, and so on; but even this would not work, as every time he would throw the hat he would go under himself, and come up snorting and blowing like a porpoise. The darkey now began to be frightened. He was all the time losing ground; the ship was leaving him astern; and the captain finally sang out to him, “Never mind the hat; come aboard!” but to no purpose; Jack stuck to the hat, fearing he should lose the reward if he did not get it. At last, however, after repeated threats from the captain, he was under the necessity of abandoning it, and struck out boldly for the ship, shouting, “Santa Maria! Santa Maria! Madre de Dios!” at every stroke. A rope was thrown him, but he was so exhausted he could not hold fast of it; finally one of the ship’s company went down the side and made it fast round his body. Jack was now hauled in on deck more frightened than hurt, and as pale as possible for a darkey to be. On recovering so as to speak, his first words were for the promised reward of tobacco, which were given him, although he had not recovered the hat. All hands had a hearty laugh over this incident, and it seemed to infuse new spirits into every one.

Thursday, July 8th, we spoke the ship “Atkins Adams,” a vessel that left Guam in company with us. She had taken but forty barrels since coming upon the ground.

At length, on Saturday, July 24th, at daylight, was once more heard the welcome cry, “T-h-e-r-e she b-l-o-w-s!” In the shortest possible space of time four boats were down and gave chase. The boat-steerer of the waist-boat darted and missed his aim. This “gallied” the whale, and off he went at railroad speed, the boats returning to the ship. About nine A.M., however, the chase was renewed, and, by skillful management, the bow-boat fastened both irons solid. As the whale was sounding, Spanish Jack, who was one of the crew, from some unknown cause became badly frightened, and managed to throw his paddle into the line-tub. Of course the line, which was running out with great rapidity, became foul, and carried the paddle to the loggerhead, which frightened Jack still more, and his next move was to jump into the tub himself. The boat-steerer, seeing how matters stood, as quick as thought seized the boat-hatchet and cut the line, which alone saved Jack and all hands from certain death. Away went the whale; and, after reflecting upon their situation a moment, the crew commenced berating poor Jack for his carelessness in thus endangering his and their lives, and losing them the whale. As all hopes of capturing him were now at an end, the boats returned to the ship.

On learning the particulars, the captain administered to Jack a slight dose of tow-line tea to prevent any serious consequences arising from his late carelessness. He did not relish the medicine much, but was obliged to take it, nevertheless. It was really provoking; we had been cruising so long without seeing whales, and when we did see them under such favorable circumstances, to lose them from such carelessness was not only provoking, but discouraging.

THE “OLD MAN” TALKS.

The old man, after giving Jack his medicine, proceeded to make a stump speech to all hands, to the effect that “they were now some thirty-three months from home, with only about seven hundred barrels of oil; that the voyage was rapidly drawing to a close; it would soon be time for the ‘Emily Morgan’ to be ‘homeward-bound;’ yet, if they went on at this rate, what would they go home with? A broken voyage; nothing coming to them, and their time worse than thrown away. He hoped the crew would wake up and take some interest in the voyage. If they were only determined to succeed, succeed they would, and they would soon be in ‘Yankee land’ with a good voyage.” At the close of this speech three hearty cheers were given; the men went forward in excellent spirits, threatening the sperm whales on Japan with complete annihilation.

An opportunity soon presented itself; and proved they were in earnest. On Tuesday, July 27th, we raised a “lone” whale, and in less than an hour from the time he was first seen he was lying alongside the ship, dead. On cutting him in, we found him an old veteran covered with scars, and two harpoons in him marked “S. M. N.” By this we knew he had been struck by the “Milton,” who was cruising on the ground. The following day, while cutting in the whale, a sail hove in sight to windward. Some hints were thrown out by the captain that this was the “Milton;” on hearing which, “all hands” struck up a lively tune, and the windlass went round cheerily; blanket-piece after blanket-piece came in on deck, and, just as the last piece swung in clear of the plankshire, the stranger rounded our stern. Instead of the “Milton” she proved to be the “Antelope,” of Newport, Captain Potter. Had it been the former vessel, and any part of the whale remaining in the water, the self-constituted laws of whalemen would have compelled us to have given up the whole of the whale, and this accounted for the hurry we were in to secure the fish ere the stranger came down to us. The result proved our fears to be groundless; nevertheless, the blubber was all on deck, and no one regretted it.

A few days after this we again spoke the “Atkins Adams,” and found that she was about leaving the ground. On inquiring the cause of this resolve, Captain Fish said “that he had seen whales but twice since he had been on the ground, and both times they had steam-engines inside them, and were going like lightning, bound for the ‘Emily Morgan.’” Our skipper encouraged him to remain a while longer, telling him what success we had had, and that the best of the season was yet to come. The following morning, while in company with them, we raised a whale off our lee beam which had the appearance of having been wounded. Seeing us manœuvring, they ran down, but before they reached us we had a dead whale alongside. Without exchanging a word with us, they continued on their course to the southward, no doubt disheartened, and determined to try their luck elsewhere.