But the greatest enemy the whale meets with in the tropic seas is the thrasher, (a species of squalus;) a fish so called from the manner in which it attacks its prey. As soon as the thrasher perceives the whale, he swims rapidly up to it, in a kind of orbit, until at length, when it approaches near enough, it compresses its tail, and by a great effort, throws itself out of the water and falls heavily upon the body of its unoffending victim. This exploit the thrasher performs again and again, until at length the whale (which very seldom escapes by speed) spouts up volumes of blood and water, and with one dreadful convulsion sighs out its last breath, and its immense carcase floats upon the ocean until some playful wave flings it upon the shore of some neighbouring island. In one of my trips from Antigua to Barbados I witnessed one of these conflicts, and although at a considerable distance from the place of battle, the blows sounded audibly in our ears.[[61]]
Among the other Cetaceæ which sometimes frequent the waters of the blue Caribbean, are the grampus and porpoise.[[62]] I have heard some master of the small trading vessels express great apprehension of grampus, who, they say, will at times approach so near a craft as to endanger its safety; but during my sojourn in these islands, however, I never heard of such a casualty taking place. A few years ago, an immense shoal of grampus were driven ashore at Antigua during a season of stormy weather, and by the oil they yielded, became a valuable prize.
But the greatest dread of the mariners in these seas is the shark—that rapacious and terrific monster whose very name conjures up a train of horrors. The usual length of the white shark is from 25 to 30 feet; the body oblong, and tapering to the tail, which is of a semiannular form, and of great strength; the head is rather flat upon the top; and the jaws, of horrific dimensions, are armed with numerous rows of flat, jagged, triangular teeth, (which it has the power of erecting at pleasure,) down to the very gullet.[[63]]
The eyes of the shark are large and prominent; and they appear to watch their hoped-for prey with the malign glance of an ogre; while their vision is so acute, that they can distinguish objects at an immense distance, and will brave any danger to procure booty with which to fill their ravenous maw. A circumstance occurred some years ago which evidently proves that the optics of a shark are anything but defective.
A young Creole one day escaped from the vigilance of her nurse, and, attracted by the numerous wild flowerets and gaudy butterflies she met with, rambled on, reckless of danger, until at length she approached the sea-side. Here she watched for awhile the waves as they dashed their snowy foam over the pointed rocks which lined that part of the beach, until, impelled by the beauty of the scene, and the heat of the weather, she threw off her simple tropic dress and wended her way into the smiling waters. Although not more than six years old, from being accustomed to bathing, she had learnt to swim with agility; and gaily did she sport with the bounding billows, until her attention was arrested by a violent rushing of the waters, when, upon looking behind her, she saw, fast approaching, what instinct immediately told her must be a shark. It was but the thought of a moment to make for the land, upon whose confines she fortunately was; and urged on by fear, she gained the pointed rocks, followed by the rapacious monster. Springing from one to the other of these natural coast-guards, she at length reached the land in safety; while the greedy shark, fearful of losing its prey, and regardless of hazard, dashed after, until it became entangled in the intricacies of the beach, where it floundered about, unable to extricate itself, until a party of negroes (who had been working near the spot, and whose attention had been attracted by the cries of the child) came to the scene of action, and with ready good will despatched the encaged monster.
The shark is viviparous, and sometimes five hundred young ones, of about a foot in length, have been found in the stomach of the mother. The mouth is placed so far beneath the snout, that the shark is obliged to turn upon its back to seize its prey. The fins are large and strong, which enables it to dart quickly through the water, while the huge dorsal one may often be seen above the surface of the sea for a long time together, marking the spot where the dreadful creature lurks beneath. The bays and harbours of Antigua abound with this voracious marine animal, and woe betide the unfortunate swimmer who approaches its lair.
On board the ship which first conveyed me to Antigua, was a remarkably fine and intelligent lad, “the only son of his mother, and she was a widow.” He had been placed under the care of the captain of the ship, in order to gain some knowledge of the sea before sailing with his uncle, the master of a South Sea whaler. Robert had never quitted his fond parent before, and anxiously did he look forward to the end of his voyage, hoping that a letter from his mother would be awaiting his arrival at Antigua.[[64]] At length we gained our wished-for haven, and the passengers quitted the ship to seek their several places of destination. The packet had arrived, but there was no letter for poor Robert, who, with a disappointed heart, was obliged to wait the arrival of another mail. In the meantime, according to the rules of the merchant’s service, he was employed along with the other lads in many little duties aboard the ship, until one fatal Saturday, as he was drawing a bucket of sea-water from over the ship’s side, he overbalanced himself, and fell into the depths beneath. The steward, who was passing, raised an alarm; a boat was lowered, but without success, for he never rose to the surface. At length drags were procured, and (after an ineffectual search of some hours) his body was discovered, but the merciless sharks had made it their prey; the head, legs, and arms were gone, and his mutilated trunk alone reposes in the churchyard at St. John’s. It was an untimely and dreadful death, so far from the land that gave him birth; and the circumstance was rendered more affecting, by the arrival of the packet the next day, bringing a letter for him from his mother, expressing her hope of her darling boy’s quick return.
It is a general custom in St. John’s when a horse dies to have it towed over the bar,[[65]] in order that it may be cast away in deep water. These defunct animals are very often made a bait for shark-fishing; but at times the sharks are so large and so greedy, that these would-be fishers are obliged to let go their bait in order to prevent their boat being overturned, and they themselves become the prey of the monsters. Young sharks are often exposed in the Antiguan markets for sale; and their flesh, stewed down with rice or “sweet potatoes,” forms, among the negroes, a savoury supper.[[66]]
The common attendants upon the shark are the remora, or sucking-fish, and the pilot-fish, the former deriving its name from the firm manner in which it can adhere to any foreign substance. This adhesion is performed by means of a piece of hard thick skin, of an oval form, about five inches long and two broad, and which is attached to the head of the fish. This curious appendage is indented like the roof of a cat’s mouth, and can be drawn up or expanded at pleasure. By these means the remora fixes itself so firmly to the back of the shark that no effort of that animal can dislodge it. Some naturalists are of opinion that the sucking-fish is the friend of the shark in directing its course and warning it of approaching danger, in the same way as the hermit-crab acts towards the pinna-marina. Others think this is a fable, and that, instead of befriending, it in time becomes the destroyer of the shark by draining its body of all moisture. I have heard seamen assert, who are often better observers of nature than is generally supposed, that if by accident a sucking-fish becomes separated from the shark, it is unable to provide for itself, and has not even the sense to swim from approaching danger. A remora was caught by the crew of a small vessel on board of which I was passenger. It was placed upon the deck for a few moments in order that I might be better able to inspect it, but when about to be removed, it was found to have adhered so firmly to the planks, that no effort, save the cruel one of cutting off the part, could disengage it. It belongs to the ray kind, and measures generally from two to five feet in length; but one was captured off Guadaloupe, which had attained the unusual length of thirteen feet from head to tail. Many strange tales have been related of the remora being able to stop a ship when in full sail, as well as performing other prodigies of valour; but in this age of wisdom all such statements are deservedly regarded as fables.
The pilot-fish, the other attendant upon the shark, is a very beautiful fish, of a tapering form; it is represented as encompassed “with chains of pearls, corals, emeralds, and other precious stones;” and really, from the brilliancy of its scales, such an idea might be entertained. It was formerly supposed to precede the shark in order to point out its way, and for this cause it obtained its name of “pilot-fish.” This supposition is, however, exploded by later observations, which point out that it attends the shark at a respectable distance, in hopes of participating in its prey.