On approaching the island, we found it a rock-bound precipice, almost inaccessible, with a scanty vegetation dispersed over its summit. It has a desolate appearance, is uninhabited, and only visited by whalemen and those unfortunates whom Neptune, in his furious mood, casts upon its desolate shore. On the cliffs a few goats were to be seen, set ashore some time since by the humane captain of a whaler, who opined that they would increase, and afford sustenance to any shipwrecked mariners who might be cast away here.
We went close to the rocks, over which huge breakers gambolled, and made our boats fast to the kelp. Then out lines, and on the instant were busily engaged in hauling in noble fish, varying in weight from five to twenty pounds, of all varieties and colors: cod, trumpeter, and many species unknown to us, white, black, blue, yellow, and red. In the course of a few hours we had secured as many as we wanted; the other boats experiencing like success, the fish biting with the greatest avidity; it only being necessary to bait, heave the line overboard, and haul up, and, ten chances to one, before it reached the surface, a fish was attached to it. On an eminence on the island, a royal mast is erected, it having been the signal pole of the crew of the whale-ship Tuscany, of Sag Harbor, which went ashore on this island.
It appears that the English ship Meridian, returning from Australia, was cast away here. The principal part of the passengers and crew reached the island, and scaled the cliff; here they remained for several days, existing on a wild cabbage that is indigenous to the island. They were much depressed, until one morning they descried a ship beating up for the island. She proved to be the whaling barque Monmouth, of Cold Springs; her captain, all honor to him, and no less to his faithful messenger, sent one of his crew across the island to communicate with the distressed ones. He directed them to cross the island, as at the side they then were it would be impossible to land a boat. This, although comparatively a short distance, they were all one day and part of the next accomplishing—the rugged, steep way, their enfeebled condition, and the presence of ladies and children, delaying them. The Monmouth’s boats, as soon as possible, conveyed them aboard their vessel, where they received every attention their condition required, and were conveyed to the Mauritius, where they were disembarked. Now for the romantic part of the story. It appears that in the general confusion, several bags of English sovereigns, that were carried from the wrecked ship ashore, were deposited, as it was supposed, in a secure place, and left on the island. This was communicated to the captain of the Tuscany, and, as the report goes, he had run close in with his ship, landed, and found the money; but at the moment of his grasping it, he discovered his ship in a perilous position. The second officer, who was left in charge, from incapacity or ignorance, had run her ashore. Circumstances occurred, during his stay on the island, that rendered it impossible to bring away the gold, the existence of which, whether chimerical or otherwise, is still a favorite theme amongst the whalemen who frequent this latitude; and in January, 1856, a whale-ship that then lay at the Vasse, had engaged one of the Tuscany’s former crew, and anticipated having a search for it.
Our second mate went ashore, near the spot where the Tuscany was stranded, captured a right whale bird, and procured a number of eggs. On examining the bird, we found that the substance composing its jaws exactly resembled right whalebone, and its tongue was precisely similar in shape to that of the right whale. These peculiarities I had often heard attributed to the bird, but considered them fabulous, as did most of our ship’s company; although many of them had been engaged in whaling for years, but never previously had an opportunity of making an examination. Having procured as many fish as we could take care of for the nonce, at eleven o’clock we returned to the barque and commenced cleaning and salting them. In the afternoon we sent another boat in, and when all were taken care of we found that we had seven barrels, and visions of good fare rose before us; but alas, for the uncertainty of human expectations—three months afterward the whole of them spoiled, and we were forced to consign them to Davy Jones’ locker.
The next morning after our fishing excursion we saw right whales and the Island of St. Paul’s. The whales we lowered away for and chased, without success. The Island of St. Paul’s lies in the same longitude as Amsterdam, but is a degree farther north. Like Amsterdam, it is barren, but is occupied by a French company, whose agents reside here for the purpose of fishing. They cure their catchings, and at periodical seasons a vessel visits them, bringing them supplies and carrying away their accumulations of fish. From the quantity and quality of their prey in the vicinity, I should think the business must be lucrative, and, indeed, it ought to be, to compensate for the isolation men must feel in this out of the way spot. This island being only sixty miles distant from Amsterdam, is easily distinguished on a clear day.
Nothing occurred from this time until Christmas day, when, of course, we who were brought up to the southward of the New England States, expected some observance of the time-honored customs of the day; but what was our surprise to see the work going on as usual; no difference being made, except breaking out a cheese, and distributing it amongst the crew, fore and aft. This humble fare, being so long deprived of, we hailed with acclamation, and partook of with avidity. This method of observing Christmas was persisted in during the voyage; on one, however, nothing either in the fare, or relaxation of discipline, served to mark the anniversary; on another we were agreeably surprised by the steward’s making mince pies for the whole ship’s company. New England men pay very little heed to the coming of Christmas day, they having been accustomed from childhood to regard Thanksgiving as a much more important holiday; and as they cannot tell at sea when Thanksgiving day comes, the only holiday left is the Fourth of July; and two out of the three recurrences of this glorious day, whilst I was aboard the ship, were unmarked by a single circumstance to note it; I well remember the mate’s answer to one of the crew, who in reply to his order to get up the spun yarn machine, laughingly said that it was Fourth of July. The curt answer was, “Yes! it is Fourth of July at home, but not here.” In the evening, after the quarter watch was set, the accordeon, drum, fife, tamborine, fiddle, and triangle, were pressed into service, and all the national airs performed thereon with great glee.
The New Year found us on the coast of New Holland in sight of Cape Leuwin. This portion of Australia presents rather an indifferent appearance, viewed from the ocean; it being barren, apparently, over a great part of its extent, and where vegetation does appear, it is low and scanty. Off this cape is a great resort for sperm whales, and at almost all seasons of the year American whalers are to be seen, standing off and on, patiently awaiting the appearance of the cachalot. At the time that we reached this ground, the ships were just resorting here from the coast of Africa and Island of Madagascar, we spoke and gammoned a number, varying from eight to thirty months from home, and having from one hundred to two thousand barrels of oil aboard. On the fifth, a gale of wind having but just abated, leaving a heavy swell on the surface of the ocean, we saw sperm whales. We lowered for them at 7¹⁄₂ o’clock A. M.; at 8 the starboard boat fastened to a large one, and a moment afterward we followed with the waist boat. The larboard boat, in trying to imitate us, was struck by the whale’s flukes and stove. She filled, and her crew were obliged to swim for their lives to the bow boat, in which they were conveyed to the ship. They had managed to get one iron into the whale before being stoven; but the boatsteerer, undaunted, when up to his waist in water, darted his second iron at the animated target, striking his mark, but not with sufficient force to fasten solid. Their line entwining around ours, prevented us hauling on to and despatching him; and whilst we were dallying, away he went to windward, towing us faster than a steamboat, the water breaking completely over us. Our boat was one-third full all the time, and it was only by unremitting bailing, by two of our number, that we kept her afloat. This continued for hours, until the ship was only seen as a speck in the horizon. The whales were darting here, there, and everywhere—ahead, astern, and under us—and the officer only prevented their getting afoul of us by repeated lancings; whilst our boats were tossed to and fro. The boatsteerer of the starboard boat was pitched out, but he caught the gunwale and soon recovered his position. Immediately after the line ran foul, our boat capsized and was taken down. I jumped, as soon as I found that she was going over, kicked off my shoes, and swam for the other boat, the line of which had been cut as soon as they discovered our mishap. On getting into the boat, I found that three others were all right, and directly our second mate made his appearance and was assisted in. He stated that the line had become twisted around his ankle, but, fortunately, he had the sheath-knife in his hand when he went down, and cut himself loose. The tub oarsman got in with his hand seriously cut, evidently by a lance which he must have come in contact with under water. As soon as we counted those in the boat, the amidship oarsman was found to be missing, and as we knew that he could not swim, we were apprehensive that he was drowned; but on the instant his head made its appearance, and I shoved him an oar, with which he supported himself until picked up. After finding all safe, we laughed at the accident, and looking around for the whale, discovered him apparently taking a view of us—his profuse bleeding rendering it impossible for him to sound. On our approach he gradually receded from us stern foremost. We were twelve in a boat, almost out of sight of the ship, and had anything happened to our boat at this stage of the operation, some, if not all of us, would have lost the numbers of our mess; but Providence protected us, and we came off harmless. On going on to the whale to lance him, the monster would roll on his side, display his enormous jaw, and attempt to seize the boat with it. This was repeated a number of times, when those in the ship, which had been gradually nearing us, discovering only one boat, and that full of men, they lowered away two boats. One went in pursuit of the capsized boat, while the other came to our assistance, and fastened to the whale, discharging three-bomb lances into him. These caused him to roll and groan, but not producing a fatal effect, our boat returned to the ship for more, which were likewise deposited in his carcass; but it was not until sundown that he rolled fin out, and was brought alongside. We secured him for the night, and the next morning proceeded to cut him in. This is a very different operation from cutting-in a right whale; the two species being totally dissimilar. The first move with the sperm whale is to separate the head from the body, and when the jaw is loose, heave it in. Cutting off the head consumes, if a large whale is the subject, from two to four hours, according to the dexterity of the manipulator; if a proficient handles the spade, it is a work of but little trouble, but if a bungler, he wearies everybody’s patience out beside his own. The head, when completely clear, is made fast to the ship’s quarter by a strong chain, and the body then hove in. When the small is cleared away, the head is hooked on to and hove out of the water, then separated into two portions, known as the case and junk, and separately hove in. If the whale is very large the case is bailed overboard, so as not to endanger the ship’s spars by so heavy a heave—in this case we hove it in. Whilst heaving in our last body piece, to which the flukes were attached, they swung around and knocked the second mate and a boatsteerer overboard, with spades in their hands. They soon were recovered and on deck safe again.
We now had him all aboard. The jaw was dragged forward and secured, and several employed in cutting the blubber from the pans; it measured twenty feet in length and had in it forty-eight ivory teeth, many of them weighing a pound or more. The case was then opened, and a boatsteerer jumped into and prepared to dip out the unctuous matter, which in this part of the head is fluid; for what purpose designed I know not, but no doubt it is a provision of Providence that has its uses, although we cannot discern them. From this vast receptacle for oil we bailed some twelve barrels of the pure spermaceti. The junk was then cut into horse pieces, and these, with the other blubber from around the head and jaw, were rendered out and stowed in casks marked “head;” it being by far the most valuable portion of the whale, and commanding a better price. The head of the sperm whale generally yields about two-fifths of the oil procured from the entire fish. After finishing with the head matter, we proceeded with the residue the same as with the right whale formerly mentioned. On boiling the body blubber, we found it exceedingly poor, and were not at all surprised at the whole yield being only seventy-two barrels—his size auguring at least a hundred. He was seventy-five feet long.
In appearance, this whale does not bear the slightest resemblance to the right whale—its massive head differing from the latter; neither has it the bonnet, as the right whale, infested by barnacles and vermin; its body is not so thick; it is longer, and on the back, near the small, a ridge rises which is known as the bump; the flukes, too, are smaller; and the skin, instead of being black as ebony, is of a slate color, frequently mottled with white—around the head presenting an appearance like marbling; beneath the skin, on the head, is found short, stiff, hair, and between the hair and skin an alkaline substance which is a solvent for oil—it is used for washing clothing and the paint work.
After our whale was stowed below and finished with, we remained off the Leuwin for a few weeks, seeing whales but once, and then just at nightfall. So the captain said, one fine morning, that he thought he had waited long enough for the whales, and that now they might wait for him. He ordered the helm hard up, and we went bowling away before a ten knot breeze toward Vasse—a settlement situated in Geographe Bay, a short distance to the northward of Cape Leuwin. Soon we could see the breakers dashing and surging over the inhospitable coast, and at 7 o’clock P. M. let go our port anchor in three and a half fathoms of water, about three miles distant from the shore. We found several other whalers at anchor, and two more came in the same evening. From the ship the country looked low, sandy, and bushy. The next day we went ashore for the purpose of procuring fresh water, and found that we had an onerous task; as the casks were towed ashore and rolled about a quarter of a mile to the wells, over a sandy, uneven road, into which the pedestrian sank knee deep at every step. On arriving at the wells, the water had to be dipped up by bucketsful from a depth of twelve feet; nor was the water very good, it being produced from the sea by filtration through the sand, which deprived it of its saline matter. On filling our casks, finding it impossible to roll them through the sand, we took our raft rope and laid it in a continuous line, rolled a cask upon it, brought the end of the rope over it, and thus, all hands taking hold, we succeeded in parbuckling them, one by one, to the beach. I had often heard it sung that Jordan was a hard road to travel, and whilst engaged in this occupation, beneath a burning sun and over the scorching sand, I thought that it would not have been inappropriate to substitute Geographe for Jordan; as a harder road to travel I defy any one to point out. Thus we toiled, day after day, until we had four hundred barrels of water in our ship’s hold, when liberty commenced. This is always a season of rejoicing amongst sailors, but it would be impossible to give a perfect description of the manner in which they enjoy themselves, and the mad pranks they cut whilst their liberty lasts. Imagine, if you can, a school of the most mischievous urchins let loose, with perfect freedom to enact all the mischief they are capable of, and you can form a faint idea of Jack ashore in a foreign port. Some have hired horses and are riding double, one facing forward, the other in the opposite direction, kicking, spurring, and urging the nag onward, occasionally getting a fall which is productive of nothing but a hearty laugh, the loose sand protecting the dismounted cavalier from injury; and ten chances to one, after recovering his feet, the unseated one would grasp the animal’s tail to mount again. I remember a case of one of our crew, who, burning to distinguish himself, went ashore, hired a horse, and rode off into the bush at full speed. The beast, being better accustomed to bush ranging than his rider, in the course of an hour made his appearance alone; and, on search being instituted, the gay horseman was discovered hanging in the forked branch of a tree, in such a position that he could not extricate himself without assistance, and even then his garments were rather the worse for wear.