Under the name of the “Charles Phelps” she whaled from Stonington, Conn., for a number of years and finally was purchased for the Stone Fleet. She was found to be in such good condition that the government decided not to sink her, and she returned to New Bedford and was sold; and it was this same vessel that took part in the rescue of the twelve hundred and nineteen shipwrecked people ten years later. In 1893 she was fitted out as if for a whaling voyage and towed by way of the St. Lawrence River to Chicago, where she was exhibited at the Fair, and now lies rotting on the sands of the lake at South Chicago. No other whaler ever had so interesting and varied a history.
The year after this Arctic disaster found the fleet again in the Arctic, and the “Minerva,” one of the ships left at Point Belcher, was discovered and found to be in good condition; the others had sunk. One lone person was found who had remained on board his ship for the whole year, and his sufferings had been fearful. The natives had stolen all the whalebone and oil from the sinking vessels, and when some of the same shipwrecked captains arrived the next year the Esquimaux tried to sell them back their own property, and one native was using one of the chronometer cases as a dinner pot in which to boil his blubber. The “Minerva” was manned and sailed to New Bedford and continued in the whaling industry.
New Bedford ships suffered severely during the Rebellion, but later new ones were added to the fleet and business again prospered. Lack of space prevents enumerating the achievements of American whalers during the Civil War. Captain William P. Randall, however, will go down in history as a hero of this war; he was brought up on a whaleship and later served in the navy.
Captain Frederick Fish, father of Frederick P. Fish and Charles H. Fish, of Boston, was one of the best known and most respected of the whaling captains sailing out of New Bedford. He commanded the “Montreal” and the “Columbus” when only twenty-two years old, made nine voyages round the world, and was one of the most successful whalers of his day. Once when near the Sandwich Islands his vessel happened to anchor very close to an English ship, and Captain Fish noticed that every evening at sunset the English commander, while at anchor, set all sails and then furled them again in order to show how quickly this work could be performed. After a few evenings Captain Fish ordered his crew to do the same, and the time consumed was so much less that the next evening the Englishman decided he did not care to go through the performance; in fact, he never tried to show off again in that port.
There is also another amusing story told about Captain Fish. His ship at one port took on a great many chickens, which were used for food, and finally one of the crew rebelled and informed the captain that he had eaten enough hen. He was immediately ordered out on a yard-arm and was made to crow like a rooster for such a long time that when he was again allowed on deck, he had a most excellent appetite for another chicken dinner. Captain Fish delighted in telling of the time when he took a local pilot on board somewhere in the Pacific to conduct his vessel into port. He asked the navigator if he were sure of his course, and received a prompt and decisive answer in the affirmative. Presently, to the disgust of the captain, the vessel touched. The next question put to the pilot was whether or not he could swim, and finding that he could, Captain Fish ordered his crew to throw him overboard. This was done, and, the distance being short, the swimmer made the land, and the captain himself took his vessel in the rest of the way.
New Bedford fifty years ago (1808). (This print is dated 1858.)
Captain Fish was an excellent story teller, and another yarn has been handed down in connection with one of his trips. The voyage had been very unsuccessful, and as he was looking over his chart he tossed his dividers down in a disgruntled manner, and by accident they chanced to stick in the chart. He then conceived the novel idea of sailing to the very place where his instrument happened to land, and curiously enough he was rewarded by a very large catch.
Once when one of his whaleboats had been overturned by a fighting whale he hurried to the assistance of the crew, who were struggling in the water, and to his amazement found two of them squabbling over the ownership of a pair of old shoes, instead of thinking about saving their lives. It is a curious fact that he never learned to swim, and often saved his life when capsized by grabbing some floating débris. His nerve and courage were remarkable, and it is related that even on his death-bed he told the doctor an amusing story.
This picture of New Bedford in 1808 is most interesting. The oil market shed on the right-hand side of the street was built in 1795 by Barnabas Russell for his son Joseph, and the last building shown on the right of the picture was the mansion of William Rotch, Sr., and the first estate in the village at that time. This Rotch was the son of Joseph Rotch, one of New Bedford’s earliest whalers, and he himself is represented in his old chaise, the only private carriage then in the town. He is negotiating for a load of hay, and from all accounts he must have been a keen business man, for he was often seen going to market so early that he had to use a lantern. All the other figures in this picture also are intended to represent well-known citizens of the time. The two men shaking hands are Captain Crocker and Samuel Rodman; the latter, who was the son-in-law of William Rotch, had the reputation of being the best dressed man in New Bedford in his day. One of the boys harnessed to the small cart is the Hon. George Howland, Jr., great-uncle of Llewellyn Howland. H. H. Hathaway, Jr., and Thomas S. Hathaway have three ancestors in the picture.