On the last Sunday we lay in the haven, all hands from each ship went ashore, numbering about one hundred and thirty souls. We provided ourselves from our ship with potatoes, biscuit, a piece of salt pork, and a saucepan filled with molasses. We soon had a rousing fire going; and the Mauriis were immediately on the qui vive for the collecting of mutton-fish, warreners, and limpets, which they quickly detected, although to our unpractised eyes there was no appearance of shellfish. These creatures they detached from the rocks, not without exerting considerable force, as they adhere with tenacity. The mutton-fish is quite large, weighing from four to eight ounces. The warrener is smaller, and inhabits a cone-shaped shell. The shell of the mutton-fish, which is similar in shape to that of the clam, is single, having a number of holes in the anterior part, through which the animal breathes; the lower part of its body presenting the appearance of a large leathern sucker. The limpet has a three-sided shell, and is much smaller than either of the others. All these shells are of an inferior pearl; useless, on account of its frangible construction, for manfacturing any of the various articles for which the true pearl shell is used. These shellfish, after being captured, are torn by the natives from their habitations, and eaten, alive and kicking, with apparent epicurean relish. This practise of devouring the struggling animal, at first, seemed revolting to me; but upon reflection I remembered the cool indifference with which we dispose of the bivalves, which possess feeling equally with the mutton-fish, but have not the same energetic way of displaying it.
One of our party volunteering to act as cook, after sufficient of these fish were procured and deprived of their shells, contrived to make us an excellent dinner—we doing justice to a chowder prepared from these creatures, beside having them raw, roasted, and in the shell. The molasses was converted into candy and handed over to the Mauriis, who, until they had disposed of it within their capacious maws, had neither eyes nor ears for anything else. Our dinner ended, we wended our way up the bay. This was a task of no little difficulty, the beach being covered with huge masses of granite, worn smooth by the percolation of water; these were to be ascended, descended, and occasionally circumnavigated, so that several hours were devoted to perambulating but a short distance. Our object was to collect specimens of the green stone, which is washed down from the mountains, and, by the continual friction of the water, assumes a circular and polished shape. This stone is used for ornamental purposes, in the decoration of their persons, by the Chinese and Mauriis—they using it for ear-rings, necklaces, and nose pendants. Half way up to the summit of the mountain that frowns above our barque, as she lies at anchor, there is a quarry of this substance, which I should venture to call serpentine, but for its extreme obtusity. I said that there was a quarry, but I have only the authority of the Mauriis for my assertion; I went to the spot, and, from observation, decided that if it had been worked, it must have been at some time beyond the recollection of any of my informants. This bay, twenty years ago, was the rendezvous of a sealing party, who successfully operated in their business, living ashore until the rainy season approached, when they boarded their crafts and sailed for home. A whaling company, also, had a try-works ashore, where many a fine jacket of blubber has been converted into oil; as these men might have, occasionally, found time hanging heavy on their hands, to them may be attributed the working of the mountain, carrying such specimens as they pleased to their homes, for gifts or sale to the various tribes along the coast. The seals becoming scarcer every year, and the increase of whale-ships rendering the capture of the fish less a matter of certainty than formerly, the bay fisheries were deserted, and ever since it has been resigned to its original inhabitants, except when some old and barnacled whale-ship touches at it, or the schooners of the Maurii run in for protection from the weather. Nothing illustrated to me the slight influence exerted by man here, more strongly, than the fact of the smaller birds (those, from their size, too insignificant for the attention of the gunner), viewing man without the slightest fear, flying around and around one, and alighting on the person, as if desirous of forming an acquaintance; having had no experience of the refinement of cruelty inherent to man, they do not fear him. I do not wonder at the sealers and whalemen deserting this vicinity when they found that their game had left, as there is nothing either inviting or enticing to induce a stay on these shores. The ground can never be made serviceable for cultivation, as it is broken and uneven to an extreme degree; scarcely a foot square can be found without a variation in the grade of its surface.
We remained in this bay seventeen days, every succeeding twenty-four hours seeing some new creature, or meeting with some novel adventure. One day a gust of wind would come rushing down the mountains, and carry away our stern moorings, from the intense strain thrown upon them by the ship’s swinging. Another day all were interested by the capture of a female shark, from whose body were taken seventeen small sharks. These creatures were put in the deck tub, where they swam around with surprising celerity. They were each about six inches long, without teeth, but betraying their origin by snapping at anything they could reach with their toothless gums.
I cannot take leave of Milford Haven Bay without stating my conviction of its superiority to any port that I had previously visited, with the exception of Balli. This was the opinion of all, and often afterwards, when we were on the eve of making an insignificant port on the Australian coast, have I heard it said, “I wish we were going ashore in Milford Haven; because there you can see something.” You can procure no liquor there, whilst here nothing new is to be seen, and rum stares you in the face at every footstep.
On the 2d of June the Isabella hove up her anchor and stood out of the bay. She soon lost the breeze, and was endangered by her proximity to some reefs at the mouth; but a few hours subsequently she was enabled to resume her course. We, and the rest of the shipping, taking advantage of the same breeze, squared our yards, and were soon merrily bowling out to sea, far from the abode of sand flies, and mosquitoes, which had no mercy on us whilst in the bay.
CHAPTER VIII.
On the 7th, after having, during the preceding week, seen and lowered for whales several times, our masthead’sman sung out that the James Allen’s boats were whaling. She was some distance from us; but we lowered away, and arrived in time to find they had turned up a large whale. This was the fifth she had taken within the past eight weeks, making her three hundred and seventy-five barrels of oil. Our boats returned to the ship empty handed; and, as is usual when another ship has been successful, we all indulged in a regular growl at the hardness of our luck, complaining that we could capture nothing, whilst others were filling their ships. But, to view the matter impartially, we were having returned to us a Roland for the Oliver we presented to them whilst on the Shark’s Bay Ground; in that vicinity the success being all on our side. The next day, as if our bearishness had been productive of good effect, at daylight we sighted sperm whales. We lowered away three boats; the desertion of our men in the bay, rendering it impossible for us to lower four boats and leave a sufficient number aboard to work the ship in case of need. Directly after lowering, the first and third mates struck large whales; after remaining fast for a short time, the irons belonging to the larboard boat drew—the boatsteerer had had a long dart, and struck the fish in his small, where there was not sufficient blubber for the iron to take firm hold. The other fish, to which the starboard boat was attached, was going at the rate of I do not know how many knots an hour, breaching, curvetting—now with his head out of water, and, again, with his flukes reared high in the air, presenting all sorts of resistance that characterize the right or sperm whale—snapping his huge jaws together, and lashing the water, left and right, with his flukes. For a time he kept running along at a rate that deterred the other boats from approaching him; but, finally, the chief mate managed to get a line from the bow boat, which was taken in tow. The whale continued running for some time after; when he halted for a moment, the mate, watching his opportunity, hauled his boat on to him, and, with a well-aimed lance, stopped his running forever. We soon afterwards got him alongside. He was a noble specimen of the cachalot, exceeding in size any one we had previously taken. On account of the heavy weather incident to this coast, we took time by the forelock, and cut him in that same night. It was calm and the moon was at its full, whilst scarcely a ripple disturbed the surface of the ocean, so that we had an excellent time. At midnight nearly all was on deck. The following morning we hove in the junk, and bailed the case—the immense weight of the latter preventing us from hoisting it aboard. This whale yielded us one hundred and ten barrels of oil.
It will be seen that whales are plenty off the coast of New Zealand, and the query may be raised, why are not more captured? But seeing whales is not taking them, and killing them is not securing them; as may be exemplified by the case of the Prince Regent: whilst near us, she captured two large whales, but lost them both from the severity of the weather. The Flying Childers, too, lost the greater part of another. The James Allen, however, was more fortunate. One day, after having by the most strenuous exertions succeeded in getting in a whale which they had taken the previous day, sperm whales came up close to the ship. The mate wanted to lower; but the captain, deeming the weather so boisterous as to make such a proceeding injudicious, refused his consent. The mate then went below, charged his gun, and fired a bomb-lance into the whale with such effect, that on rising again he discharged blood from his spout-holes, appeared bewildered, and attempted to grasp the sides of the ship with his jaws. By this time all hands were thoroughly excited; and on the spur of the moment, although the experiment was a hazardous one, a boat was lowered away, which, though stoven by coming into contact with the fish, yet managed to save him.
I will here take occasion to relate another fish-story, which emanated from the James Allen. Her boats had been down for several hours, and when lying still, awaiting the re-appearance of a school of sperm whales that had sounded, a strange fish, in size between the grampus and whale, rushed by them with open jaws. He kept on for a short distance, then about-ship, and returned. Both jaws were furnished with sharp, wicked-looking grinders. Deeming discretion the better part of valor, they gave his fishship a wide berth. He did not, they said, appear to be in pursuit of them, but kept on his way, unmolesting, and unmolested.
On the 25th we lowered for blackfish, and captured six, which yielded us ten barrels of oil. These fish, like the whales on this coast, are fatter than they are elsewhere, and average larger. Two days afterwards we gammoned with the barque Emily Downing, of Hobartown. She reported, that on the day we were blackfishing she had sighted two schools of sperm whales. Swinging only three boats, the captain and second mate went in pursuit of one school, and the mate of the other. The last seen of the mate’s boat he was close to the whales, and his boatsteerer standing up, preparatory to darting, when a thick fog enveloped everything. The two boats in company proceeded to regain the ship, which they did with much difficulty; and had not those on board kept up a continual ringing of their ship’s bell to guide them, the probabilities are, that they would have fared no better than the mate and his crew, who had neither been seen nor heard of since. Conjectures were rife as to their probable fate: some surmising that the boat had been stoven, and all hands lost; others thought that, as the mate was a prudent man, of much experience, and well knew the locality of the land, he would most likely direct his boat straightway to it, and lose no time in searching for their ship. The latter were right, as was proved on the 30th, when the Downing and we were in company, lying under short sail,—a fresh breeze blowing, with a heavy sea in attendance—our mastheadsman apprised us, that there were several sails off our weather-beam, squared in, and standing directly for us—coming down before the half gale like racehorses. We at first thought that they were whaling; but as they neared us, and we saw that they all had their colors flying, we at once suspected the true reason for their manœuvring. In a short time, the barque Isabella ran across our stern, spoke us, and informed us of the safety of the missing ones; and that all, though weak and exhausted, were as well as circumstances would permit. This was glorious news, and was received with hearty cheers. Later in the afternoon we learned that the poor fellows had been five days in their boat, with nothing to eat, except half-a-dozen biscuits, an albatross that they had killed by darting a lance into it, and a piece of squid that they managed to pick up. The latter, they said, was not very recent; but, in their necessity, it was to them tall eating, and they were disposed to grumble at the quantity, rather than the quality of their food. They said that they had made for the land immediately on finding that they had lost their ship, but had not succeeded in reaching it until Sunday. As they approached it, they fortunately discovered the ship James Allen close-to. They made for her—told their story—were taken on board, and everything that could be afforded for their comfort was plentifully supplied to them. They were much emaciated by their long fast and exposure; but under the genial influence of good victuals and their present position, they were gradually recovering their wonted hardy condition. The James Allen, being in the course of a few days bound off the ground to Hobartown, handed over the missing ones to the barque Isabella, who placed them aboard their own vessel. Their shipmates—as did all the members of the fleet—expressed the greatest joy and satisfaction at the recovery of these poor fellows; for we could all sympathize with them in their forlorn situation, inasmuch as we were at any time liable to meet with a like accident whilst engaged in our present pursuit.