Life and Adventure in the South Pacific

by John D. Jones

We must now mention a very strange incident, and one that but very seldom occurs among whalemen. On cutting in this whale, we found two irons in it marked “S. E. M.” It being our own ship’s mark, and the irons belonging to the bow-boat, and recognized as such by all hands, proved conclusively that it was the same whale which had got our friend Jack into a scrape, and which we had lost nineteen days previous, and about 360 miles to the westward of where we were then cruising.

Such instances are very rare. The only one we ever heard was that of the ship “John and Edward.” While on her outward-bound passage in the Atlantic she struck a large sperm whale, and was compelled to cut from him. She was absent three years, and on her home passage, off the coast of Peru, in the Pacific, captured the same whale. The irons had a peculiar mark, such as no other ship carried, and from this they knew the whale. Nothing but the head of the harpoon and about a foot of the shank remained, the other part having rusted off. This proves conclusively that sperm whales do migrate from one ocean to the other via Cape Horn, notwithstanding several learned authors have asserted to the contrary.

On the 15th of September we pointed the ship’s head to the southward with cheerful hearts. This was the best cruise we had yet made, having taken about four hundred barrels of oil. The next season on Japan was to be our last; from thence we were “homeward-bound.” Although it was a long time ahead, yet we felt that every day made it one the less, and every mile of blue water plowed was one the less. Just before reaching the group we lowered and captured a twenty-five barrel whale: this helped to cheer us along our way very much.

Monday, October 11th, we made Pitt’s Island; sent a boat ashore, and found the bark “S.,” of New Bedford, at anchor. The crew of this vessel, including the captain and officers, with ten or twelve beachcombers, were engaged in making cocoanut rum, and all hands, natives included, were as drunk as rum could make them.

The following day we spoke the “Susan,” of Nantucket, Captain Smith. From this vessel we learned that during the past season a fearful tragedy had been enacted at the group. Twenty-five beachcombers residing on Henderville’s and Woodell’s Islands, which are separated by a channel of only a few miles, were murdered by the natives. It appears, from what we could learn, that they had some difficulty with the natives—attempting to do as they pleased—threatening to take the islands, etc. They had also succeeded in effecting a division among the natives, one party espousing their cause, the other opposed to them. Some of the more cunning, however, saw through the whole plot, and called a private council of both parties. After much deliberation, it was resolved to put to death all the white men, which was accordingly done. This removed the cause of their quarrels, and they lived at peace again.

We were now steering for Strong’s Island, with fine breezes, beautiful weather, and cheerful hearts. Sunday, October 19th, we spoke the “Atlantic,” of Nantucket, Captain Coleman.

At daylight on Tuesday, the 26th, we were within a few miles of the land. Saw a ship coming out, which proved to be the “Charles W. Morgan,” of New Bedford, Captain Sampson, bound home. Paper, pens, and ink were now in great demand, and, as we wrote a few lines to the dear ones at home, the thought that in one year more we too would be “homeward-bound,” cheered us, and caused us to fancy almost that the time had arrived. But no, not yet could we sing “Huzza, we’re homeward bound!”

At noon we came to anchor in our old resting-place. All hands hastened ashore to see our old friends and exchange greetings. We received a hearty welcome from Zegrah and his wife, who remarked to us that we all belonged to Strong’s Island, we had been there so much. We learned that Rev. Mr. Snow, an American missionary, with his wife, had taken up his residence here; also that Captain Hussey had left the island as master of the whaling brig “Wm. Penn,” of San Francisco.

On visiting among the natives, we discovered a feeling of antipathy to Mr. Snow had arisen among them. We soon ascertained the cause to be what we had at first anticipated. A miserable beachcomber had been telling them that “if the king allowed the missionary to remain, in a short time he would become possessor of the island; that they would have to give every thing they obtained to him,” etc. We were surprised that such reports should be so circulated among the natives, as not the least cause had arisen for them, and could only account for it from the fact that it was characteristic of the class. What made the matter still worse was that, when Mr. Snow came to the island, he found this fellow friendless and homeless; his means of subsistence all gone, and begging from house to house. Taking pity upon him, he invited him to take up his abode at his house. Here he found excellent fare, and nothing to do but to eat, drink, and sleep; and, although Mr. S. was very much occupied in making improvements upon his dwelling and land attached, yet he was the last one to offer him any assistance, but, on the contrary, was repaying his kindness by endeavoring to prejudice the natives against him.

Several natives from the Island of Rotumah were residing on Strong’s Island at this time. We attended one of their dances, given by them in honor of our ship’s company. Their singing and dancing excelled any thing of the kind we had yet witnessed. They moved in exact time with the music, and went through the exercises with great precision. During all their dances they use the musket, which they handle with the greatest expertness. The war-dance, in particular, was one of wild and thrilling movements; their hair long, and standing in all directions from their head, even to the perpendicular; their bodies tattooed and besmeared with cocoanut oil, with nothing but a tappa about the loins and a musket by the side, they looked really frightful and war-like. The dance is performed by forming in two lines, and as they sing they perform their evolutions of advancing, discovering and attacking the enemy, wheeling to load their pieces, fronting again, the front rank dropping upon one knee to allow those in the rear to fire over them, while both lines fire in the direction of the supposed enemy, and retreat to reload. After performing these evolutions several times, they appear to come off victorious, and start off into a noisy song and dance. We remained until quite a late hour witnessing their performances, and, after all hands had given them three hearty cheers, the assemblage dispersed very peaceably. We returned to our quarters very much pleased with our evening’s entertainment, wishing it were in our power to place the band in Barnum’s hands.