The first partial intelligence from the northern whaling fleet usually arrives at home ports some time in the month of October. The early arrival of a ship at the islands, or at some port on the Pacific, from the whale ground, furnishes this report as to the general success of whalemen about the middle of the season—whether the "catch" has been good or moderate, very good or deficient. A few scattering letters are also brought by this early means of conveyance, which, being deposited in the mail, soon find their way across the isthmus, into the hands of relatives and friends at home.
About this time, solicitude begins to be apparent in the inquiries made respecting absent husbands, sons, relatives, and townsmen, as to the probable results of the "whale season," how the ships have done, and the health and lives of those who are abroad.
Every California mail will, therefore, for months to come, be looked for with increasing interest, because it may be the bearer either of joy or sorrow to many hearts and family circles.
In the month of November, still further intelligence is received from the whaling fleet; previous reports are corrected, and additional ones are given. The first section of the fleet has already arrived at the islands.
In the months of December and January, the mail brings still additional news, and more correct than hitherto. The great majority of the ships that intended to touch at the islands on their return from the north are reported at this time. The ordinary vehicles of public intelligence—newspapers and letters, both from the islands and from the Pacific coast—unite in announcing the grand rendezvous or arrival of northern whalemen.
If, now, there should be ships not included in the late report, and from which no recent letters have been received either by owners or relatives, and those ships not having been spoken with by others, they are specially marked as "missing ships," and serious apprehensions begin to be entertained lest some disaster may have befallen them.
The mail in February or March is supposed to bring from the islands and intermediate ports all the reliable information respecting those ships that have arrived during the last four months. Therefore a ship not reported now must have either gone to some other port, or never left the northern seas, or been wrecked and lost.
This was the case with the ship Citizen. There was no account of her arrival at the islands, agreeably to the intention of Captain Norton on his return from the Arctic; his friends at home, therefore, looked for the report of his arrival, if not among the first, certainly among the last.
Besides, there were neither letters from him or his officers, none to relatives, none to the owners of the ship. Other families had heard from absent ones, and were made to rejoice; those interested in the fate of the Citizen, however, were filled with sadness and sorrow.
The absence of letters was ominous of something fearful and distressing. Captain Clough spoke with Captain Norton on the 23d of September, in the Arctic Ocean, lat. 68° or 69° N.; and this was the last and only intelligence from the missing ship. This occurred, as it appeared, only two days before the wreck of the Citizen. Not having arrived at the islands, nor reported from any other place, the conclusion to which all came was at once reasonable and just—either that the ship was frozen up in the Arctic, or cast away on the coast, and her officers and crew, if living, among the natives.