“We were just off Kinka-san at half-past six, and by seven were blowing the whistle at the entrance to the bay.”
“We’ll go sou’-sou’ west tomorrow; that’s a whale cruise. But I’m afraid there is going to be a big sea on, for the wind has shifted and we always get heavy weather when it’s blowing offshore.”
The news was not very encouraging, for although I have spent many days on whaling ships I have never learned to appreciate perfectly the charm of the deep when the little cork-like vessels are tossing and throwing themselves about as though possessed of an evil spirit. Each time, I make a solemn vow that if ever I am fortunate enough once more to get on solid ground my days of whaling will be ended.
CHAPTER VIII
CHARGED BY A WILD SEI WHALE
“We hunted them for two hours, trying first one and then the other—they had separated—without once getting near enough even for pictures.”
The ship got under way at two o’clock the next morning, and within half an hour was pitching badly in a heavy sea. At five Andersen and I turned out and climbed to the bridge, both wearing oilskins and sou’westers to protect ourselves from the driving spray. The sun was up in a clear sky, but the wind was awful. The man in the top shouted down that he had seen no whales, but that many birds were about, showing that food must be plentiful and near the surface. Captain Andersen turned to me with a smile:
“Don’t you worry! We’ll see one before long. I’m always lucky before breakfast.”
Almost while he was speaking the man aloft sang out, “Kujira!” The kujira proved to be two sei whales a long way off. When we were close enough to see, it became evident that it would only be a chance if we got a shot. They were not spouting well and remained below a long time.
