This vessel, commanded by Capt. Pollard, sailed from Nantucket in 1820, for the Pacific Ocean. On her arrival at the place of her destination, the crew began to fish for whales, and for a time went on prosperously. One day, the seamen harpooned a young whale. In this species of fish, the affection of the mother for her young is very strong; and, on this occasion, that affection was exhibited in a striking manner.
Having discovered that her child—if we may so denominate it—was killed, she withdrew to some distance from the ship, and then, rushing through the water with great violence, drove furiously against the stern of the vessel. Such was the force of the shock, that several of the timbers were loosened, and the vessel pitched and reeled, as if struck by a whirlwind.
Not satisfied with this exhibition of her displeasure, she retired again, to the distance perhaps of a mile, and then, shooting through the waves with incredible swiftness, came like a thunderbolt upon the bow of the vessel. The timbers were instantly beaten in, and the ship began to fill with water. Scarcely had the crew sufficient warning to throw themselves into the boat, before she went down.
This transition, to the seamen, was as distressing as unexpected. Just before, they were all animation; but in a moment, as it were, a dark prospect spread before them. A wide, heaving and perilous ocean lay all around them. An open boat was their only hope, and hundreds of miles separated them from land.
In such a situation, what could they do? For some time, they momently expected the return of their exasperated foe; and in such an event, the “dark unfathomed caves of ocean,” they were sure, would be their grave.
But a merciful providence protected them from the anticipated danger. They saw no more of the wrathful monster. But, nevertheless, they suffered much, for many days, from boisterous weather, but more from the want of both food and water.
At length, one day, their weary eyes caught the sight of a distant ship. They instantly made sail towards her, and, fortunately, were descried by her crew. They were taken on board, where they were kindly treated; and after other vicissitudes, which we have no time to relate, reached their respective homes in safety. Surely they that go upon the wide ocean see great wonders, and often experience wonderful preservation!
NO. II.—DEATH OF A HARPOONER BY A WHALE-LINE.
In the year 1822, two boats, belonging to the ship Baffin, went in pursuit of a whale.
Of one of these boats, a seaman by the name of John Carr was harpooner and commander.