Among the vessels that ran down to us was the ship Gœthe, of Bremen, Captain Austin. This was the first German whaler that we had seen during our voyage. She had been cruising for right whales off the islands of St. Paul and Desolation, and had taken nine hundred barrels of oil—two hundred of which she disposed of in Hobartown. In that port, which she had recently left, she lost a number of her men by desertion. Her captain, officers, and three-fourths of her boatsteerers, were Americans; and, although most of her foremastmen were Germans, all duty was carried on in English. She is a Bremen-built ship, of about six hundred tons, and well-looking—originally a packet between Bremen and New York, from which line of trade she was not removed any too soon, for she is the dullest sailer I ever saw. She carried (independent of her whaling-tackle, which was American,) an assorted cargo of German fancy-goods—accordeons, flutinas, drums, violins, flutes, &c.—also tobacco and schnapps; which she disposed of, either in the various ports she touched at, or to the ships she met with in want of such articles; and as there is no duty on the high seas upon these goods, I have no doubt that a considerable amount will be realized by her owners.
From this date until the 11th of July we experienced a succession of heavy gales, with a very slight proportion of moderate weather; and we observed that the squid was floating on the surface in great quantities. The entire absence of whales and blackfish caused us to conclude that some disease had affected the squid, causing it to die and appear on the surface, and also rendering it unpalatable to the fish. Deeming it of little use to remain longer, we bade adieu to New Zealand; and, with square yards and a fair, though light wind, we stood away from it. Its high cliffs were discernable the next day, when by computation we were one hundred and twenty miles distant. And now, that we had left its snow-capped mountains, its heavy gales, dense fogs, and cold, inhospitable climate, behind us, we rejoiced in the prospect of warmer and pleasanter cruising-grounds; leaving no regrets, but all glad to get away: the four months we had passed off its shores being a series of unpleasant days, that would have dissatisfied less mercurial persons than sailors.
On account of the prevalent westerly winds, we were forced to run several degrees to the northward. On our passage to Hobartown we crossed the middle ground (which is midway between New Zealand and New Holland). This is a famous ground for sperm whales, and did not, in this case, belie its reputation—we seeing a school, whilst crossing it. We lowered for, but scared them, much to our discontent. We made no stay here, but steered directly for Van Dieman’s Land; and on the 21st were becalmed in sight of it. The next evening we took a pilot aboard, and the following morning passed the Iron Pot light, and entered the Derwent river. This is a noble stream, two and a half miles wide, and navigable for one hundred. The country on both sides of the river appeared fertile, and it being the proper season of the year, in this latitude, for the husbandman to break the ground and plant his seeds, the agriculturists of the section were to be seen intent on such employment. Some of our crew, whilst closely watching these busy laborers, thought of their earlier youth, when, like them, they followed a kind father or elder brother in their occupations around their farms at home, and on contrasting their present rough and boisterous calling with the more peaceful and quiet one they were formerly engaged in, they were rather disposed to think the farmer had the best of it; and several expressed a willingness to exchange conditions with them. They may have been sincere, but I doubt it; as those who have been employed in agricultural pursuits, after once becoming identified with whaling by the performance of a voyage, although they may inveigh against its hardships and discomforts, rarely fail to go again. Why this is, is easily deduced. In the first place, in their old calling, there is too much work for them after leading the lazy, rollicking sailor’s life aboard a whaleship, where the regulations of the service allow him four or five hours sleep (without whales are in sight) in the daytime. A man has little inclination to labor from sun to sun. Again, in rural localities, there is a degree of wonder and interest attaching to a sailor, that makes him feel flattered by the special attention displayed towards him; and, after spinning all his marvellous yarns to an admiring audience, he feels it incumbent upon him to keep up the character by again embarking, with the prospect of returning in the possession of new stories and songs.
Going up the Derwent we saw many fine farms, with neat and commodious tenements upon them. The river itself was studded by small craft, engaged in carrying produce to the city of Hobartown. A part of them possess the curious cognomen of “she oakers;” these are a distinctive class from the others, and are employed in the conveyance of the she oak, prepared for fuel, to market. On nearing the town, we discovered the James Allen at anchor, and found, beside her, twenty or thirty vessels—all sailing under the English flag, except a Dutch brig, and we two Yankees. At 8 o’clock P. M. we came to anchor within a short distance of the town, or rather the city.
No sooner was our ground-tackle down than boats were alongside containing prostitutes, who here, as elsewhere, claim Jack Tar as their especial property. They boarded us, extended invitations to all, when they came ashore, to call upon them; and with the most unblushing assurance, indulged in libidinous promises of the advantages possessed by their establishments over all others, and vaunting their superiority over anything of the kind in the city. Some of these frail ones delighted in most euphonious names, one was Double-Jointed Polly, another, Slippery Liz, another, Polly, the Jumper, and other equally select and high-sounding appellations, which they seemed proud enough of.
Directly we were secure, the mate of the James Allen boarded us, and informed us of the total loss of the barque Henry H. Crapo, of Dartmouth, Massachusetts, with the destruction of all the crew, fore and aft, excepting the captain and a Sandwich Islander, who were picked up by an English steamship, after thirty-six hours immersion in the ocean. It appears that whilst off the Cape of Good Hope, she was struck aback by a heavy squall that tripped her up. The two persons saved sprang to cut away the rigging, to save her and give her opportunity to right again, when they were washed overboard. Coming in contact with part of a whale-boat, and a cutting-stage with lanyards attached, they constructed a raft, on which they were saved. At the time of the accident one watch was aloft furling the foretopsail. This craft previously bore the reputation of being tricky, having, according to the account of those who had been in her, several times before been on her beam ends. All her crew were known to us, and we had seen them, but a few months previous, rejoicing in the prospect of a speedy arrival at home.
On the 23d and 24th we were busily occupied in breaking out and getting ashore our right whale oil. After getting it all in casks, we launched it overboard, and, with four boats fully manned, the crews of all joining in a rattling, heaving song, we towed the casks along before the city front, attracting hundreds of the citizens to the wharves to witness the method of the Yankees at work. They seemed to be satisfied by their scrutiny, that we were the smartest nation in all creation. I heard one of them say, “They are a bloody smart set of young fellows, and no bloody mistake;” and, indeed, to judge from the appearance of the specimens of the two races here exhibited, the denizens of the city presented a worn, dissipated aspect, whilst our boys, fresh from the sea, with cheerful countenances and sprightly motion, looked capable of any amount of exertion. Directly opposite where we lay was the Government barracks, and the presence of the red-coated sentries, with their periodical cry of “All’s well” resounding through the air, strangely jarred on an American ear. Speaking in terms easily understood of monarchical governments and their hirelings, this town is indeed little else but a collection of people under martial subjection; the character of the inhabitants, and their antecedents, rendering them subjects of peculiar care to the British government; and to ensure their good behavior, a regiment of these scarlet-coated gentry, who have seen actual service, are permanently stationed here. By their presence, rather than any work they are called upon to perform, these people are intimidated into decorum. Sentries are stationed before the governor’s house and the various public buildings, and a nightly patrol is placed near the water. They are continually to be seen walking about the streets accompanied by the handsomest females in the place. This seems a peculiar privilege of the soldier—no matter where you go, you will always see him with a pretty girl; his continual presence on one station giving him an immense advantage over the sailor; and then, too, the color of his coat is so much more gay than the modest blue, that, in the eyes of the lass that loves display, Jack stands no chance against his hereditary rival.
Just above the town there is an eminence, mounted with heavy artillery, which commands the harbor. It is laid out with taste; but, being little versed in military science, I can neither vouch for, nor detract from its effectiveness. It is a favorite resort for the citizens, and is often the theatre of prize-fights, which take place, not only between the male, but also the female part of creation. During our stay, two courtezans fought for a pound a side, and battled away for some fifteen or twenty rounds, when the police arrived at the scene of combat, and conveyed the participators and a number of the spectators to the lock-up. The police force is well organized and effective, and patrol the streets night and day. In conjunction with the soldiers, they are the guardians of the public peace; and one would think that, being coadjutors, friendly relations existed between them; but, on the contrary, many and bloody battles occur. The soldier hates the policeman, and the policeman fears the soldier. If the policeman detects the soldier in any little peccadillo, he without more ado arrests him, if he be alone, and there is no prospect of falling in with any of his captive’s comrades; but, woe betide him! if in an unguarded moment he has counted without his host—they flock around him with wondrous alacrity, take off their belts, and with these effective weapons soon beat off the police with their staves, and decamp in triumph.
During the three days we lay here, before going ashore on liberty, numbers of young women visited both ships, professedly for the purpose of obtaining washing; but, no matter how respectable or tidy they looked, their vulgar breeding would display itself before they left. Two of them got into a fracas on board the James Allen; and, after indulging in every expletive in and out of the Billingsgate vocabulary, were about settling their difficulty pugilistically, but were restrained by the mate’s peremptorily ordering them into their boat. On their showing some reluctance at starting, he threatened them that they should never again come aboard, unless they obeyed. This had the desired effect, and they went away, to settle the matter ashore.
A short time previous to our arrival, the water-police for the suppression of smuggling had been abolished; and, scarcely was our anchor down, when the watermen came aboard, to bargain for tobacco and other contraband articles.