On the 25th we were informed of the probable loss of the ship Twilight, of New Bedford: it being supposed that she had foundered at sea. The report was originated by the captain of the barque Draco. It appears that the two vessels sailed from King George’s Sound in company; and, experiencing an exceedingly heavy gale, they agreed to lie by each other during the night, either party, if desirous of running before the gale, agreeing to fire a rocket or show a light. No such signal was seen from the Draco; and next morning, on the Twilight’s not being discernible, the conclusion was arrived at that she was lost. We were agreeably surprised, a few weeks after, by a sight of the missing ship. Her captain had before been informed of the report; and, on our running across his stern, to our captain’s hail he replied, that his ship was the Nonsuch of New Bedford.
About this time, I was much amused by an original method, which our captain instituted, to stop pugilistic encounters between the boys. On the evening previous, a Portuguese boy and a New Bedford youngster engaged in a game of fisticuffs, resulting in black eyes and skinned noses to both the participants. The captain, on making inquiry the next morning, discovered enough to justify him in punishing them. For this purpose he tied their left hands firmly together, and placed reef-points in their right hands. (These points are manilla ropes, three feet long, whipped at both ends, and about three-fourths of an inch in diameter—a formidable weapon in a strong hand.) Then, after getting them in position, he instructed them to lay their points on each other’s backs. The Bedford boy refusing to do this, the captain took the point in his own hand, and gave him a cut, which operated like fire amidst dry wood. At it they went; and, both being game, they continued the infliction of the points for half an hour, when they were stopped by the old man. One of them was then sent to sit astride the extreme end of the flying jib-boom, and the other to occupy a similar position on the spanker-boom. The other ships’ officers said, merrily, that old Sherman was trimming ship to beat them.
On the same day, by the ship Alexander, belonging to the same owners as our own barque, I received letters from home; and although nine months old, they were heartily welcome. None but the wanderer from home and friends knows, or can imagine, the joy and comfort imparted by good news from home. Such events are the oases in our desert. Newspapers were also sent to me; and I read them completely through, advertisements and all, with a degree of attention I had never before bestowed on a printed sheet. Others were not so fortunate as myself, and gave vent to their disappointment in bitter terms.
The Alexander had been whaling in higher latitudes than we were—she having visited Desolation and New Zealand. Her present captain came out as first officer; for, the original captain being taken sick, had returned to the United States from one of the Cape De Verde Islands, and his mate succeeded him in command. Her crew described their first captain as having been a trump; relating, with great glee, that on the cook’s serving them up beans badly cooked, they complained to him; and, discovering their complaint to be well founded, he forced the cook to eat the whole mess—giving him nothing else to eat until he had completed the task. Ever afterwards, they said, their victuals were nicely prepared. Off the western coast of New Zealand they had seen sperm whales more than sixty times; but, for some reason or other, they had not been very successful in capturing them—having taken but five hundred barrels of oil from the time they left home. This ship then purposed returning, and was anxious for us to accompany her.
Whilst we were in the Bight, the barque Australasian Packet captured a sperm whale. The weather was boisterous, and they did not succeed in getting him alongside until after dark. The boat that was running the line to the ship was struck by the vessel, and stoven: two of her crew clung to the boat, and escaped; the others were drowned. The whale was allowed to go adrift, and was picked up on the following day by the ship Hunter, of New Bedford. By this sad disaster the crew of the Packet were intimidated, and refused to do any more whaling; therefore the captain was forced to return with her to Hobartown.
On the 10th of October we gammoned the barque Rodman, of New Bedford, twelve months out, with twelve hundred barrels of oil. She was by far the most successful ship we encountered. Much of her oil was taken off Desolation; and her crew, like that of the Stephania, represented that whaling-ground as a perfect purgatory. They said that the weather was so intensely cold, that it was necessary to envelop the person in three or four thicknesses of warm woolen clothing when going in the boats. This practice cost one of their crew his life; for the boat in which he was being stoven, from the heaviness of his clothing when saturated he was unable to swim, though he knew how, and he perished—his boatmates having as much as they could do to save themselves. They had also been into Shark’s Bay, in pursuit of humpbacks, and lost an anchor there; the captain had also there rigged a bomb-gun, so as to discharge a harpoon, but on putting it into operation shattered his hand.
Doing nothing in the Bight, and being assured of the scarcity of sperm whales on its grounds, we took our departure for the westward. We had counted largely on this season’s operations—forgetting the old maxim of not reckoning chickens before they are hatched. We saw sperm whales but once during the season, and then failed to make a capture. We were, without palliation, skunked: our whole additions being a porpoise and cowfish. The latter fish is of the same species as the porpoise, only differing from it in size, it being considerably larger; its flesh is coarser and not so good eating.
During our cruise we were continually in sight of some one or more islands of the Récherché Archipelago. These islands are uninhabited and almost barren—the only green appearance being a stunted brushwood. Around these islands the seal is found in great numbers, and small craft resort to them for the purpose of capturing these sea-dogs. Several of the ships lowered their boats, which went in, and stated that they caught numbers of fine fish.
Steering to the westward we sighted Bald Island and Baldhead, and cruised in their neighborhood for several weeks, seeing sperm whales once, but, after a hard day’s chase, giving up the pursuit as futile. One Sunday, at daybreak, the order was passed forward to loose the flying-jib. One of the hands laying out on the boom for the purpose, the foot rope parted, and he was precipitated into the sea. We had had blustering weather for a few days previous, and a heavy swell was on at the time of the catastrophe. No one saw him fall; but one of the crew, imagining, as he thought, that he heard a gurgling sound in the water, looked over the bow, and saw at a glance what had happened. The alarm being instantly given, the cry of “Man overboard,” resounded throughout the ship; and, without waiting to dress, the whole crew, fore and aft, made their appearance on deck. In a moment the wheel was put hard down, and the mainyard hauled aback. The first officer sprang into the larboard boat, in his nightdress, and cut the gripes; the tackles were let go by the run, and the moment she touched the water she was manned by a crew, who, with strong arms and brave hearts, lustily pulled for their hapless companion. Fortunately, he was a strong swimmer, and, although the weather was cold and he enveloped in the heaviest of sea clothing, with his coat on, also, he found but little difficulty in keeping afloat. In a short time the fourth mate, who was in the head of the boat, grasped him and hauled him aboard. The word was instantly given that he was saved. No cheers followed this agreeable announcement; but a deep-drawn sigh of satisfaction expressed the relief such intelligence afforded. In eight minutes from the time the order was given to loose the sail, we had him safe and snug aboard the ship. He was so weak as to be unable to clamber from the boat up the side. On stepping from the rail to the deck, he was welcomed as one restored from the dead, and, after many assurances that he was all right, except a slight weakness, the excitement began to subside. None but those who have experienced it, can imagine the effect produced by the cry of “Man overboard,” on every hearer; and to us, who had lived for more than a year together, seeing and conversing with each other every hour in the day, all depending on the same fabric for shelter against the storm and wave, it came with a ten-fold force—as none knew whose turn it next might be. Nothing serious resulted from the ducking; a slight cold, that soon yielded to simple treatment, being the only affection.
On the 20th we stood in with a fair wind, passed Baldhead, entered Frenchman’s Bay, and came to anchor at 7 o’clock in the evening; having taken a pilot when opposite to Baldhead. A few hours after the James Allen made her appearance. We found at anchor the barque Wavelett, of New Bedford. The ensuing morning all three ships weighed their anchors and passed through a narrow passage which connects the bay with the sound. The Wavelett and our barque came to anchor in good shape, but the James Allen, in trying to imitate us, ran aground. After a few hours she floated clear. At anchor in King George’s Sound, we found an old hulk, with only her lower masts standing, was moored stem and stern, and used for the reception of coals for the steamships that every month touch there. This harbor is beautiful and safe, it being protected from almost all winds. About a mile from where we lay is the town of Albany, a settlement containing about one hundred houses, and five hundred inhabitants. The tenements are principally of frame, with thatched roofs. Their occupants are of the same class as those of Vasse. At times, it is said, this place presents quite a business-like appearance; but when we visited it, everything like trade seemed stagnant. This was represented to be caused by the non-arrival of the steamers; the government having withdrawn them to use as transports for troops to the Crimea.