The Two Whalers; Or, Adventures in the Pacific

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“I keep the ten commandments, Captain Hake,” answered Captain Bland. “The Master who gave them is the greatest of the two, and He will look after the owners’ interests.”

By night on that occasion our boats had brought two whales alongside, but the crews were so weary from having been away all day under a scorching sun that they were unable to commence cutting in till next morning. At that time the boats of the “Lady Alice” were away, and in less than an hour had brought one whale alongside; shortly afterwards another was secured, so that as it turned out both ships commenced trying out at the same time, and the “Lady Alice” had the whole of the oil stowed away by Saturday night. The same sort of thing occurred more than once after this. Captain Bland adhered to his rule, and by the end of the week had stowed as many barrels of oil in his hold as we had.

At length whales becoming scarce, the two captains agreed to proceed westward across the Pacific to the Japan whaling ground. We called off various islands on our way, chiefly to obtain fresh provisions and water. At length we reached the neighbourhood of the Kingsmill group, off which we found so many whales that we remained for several months, during which time we captured a large number. As there is no safe anchorage the ships had to stand off and on while the boats went on shore to obtain water and provisions, but we had to be very careful in our dealings with the natives, who were thorough savages and treacherous in the extreme.

The weather now gave signs of changing, but as every day a whale was seen the captains were tempted to remain on. I had of late frequently gone away in the boats, generally with Medley, who had become a good harpooner. For two days not a whale had been seen, and we were on the point of proceeding further west when about noon a whole school appeared, and scattering sported far and wide over the surface of the deep. All the boats from both ships were lowered, and I went in one with Medley, who was intent on attacking a large whale which we saw to the eastward, in which direction the land lay from us. Just as we had got within a dozen fathoms of the monster up went its flukes and it sounded, leaving us looking very blank at the spot where it had gone down. It might be forty minutes or more before it would come up again. We determined to wait, and as we had had a sharp pull we refreshed ourselves by munching some biscuits and drinking a part of the contents of our water breaker. The whale remained down a much longer time than we had expected, and when it came up appeared far away to the eastward, or much closer to the shore. Again we bent to our oars, eager to get fast before it should once more sound. It was as much as we should do to reach it in time; if we were too late we should scarcely have another chance before dark. Already the sun was hidden by a dark bank of clouds rising above the horizon, and the wind was blowing strong from the westward, but pulling directly before it we did not feel its force, though it was evident that the sea was gradually getting up. I could see both the ships at some distance apart, but none of the boats were visible to us sitting down. I ought to have told Medley, who, having his eye on the whale ahead, did not remark the change in the weather. “If we kill the whale we shall be able to lie made fast under its lee, even should it come on to blow, till the ‘Eagle’ can come and pick us up,” I

thought. The whale, after remaining so long under water, took a proportionate time to spout on the surface. We were close to it. Medley, making a sign to the bow oarsman to take his place, stepped forward and stood up harpoon in hand. We ceased pulling—the next instant a loud thud showed us that the weapon had struck deep into the monster’s side. He followed up the blow by plunging in three lances, and was about to hurl a fourth when he shouted out “Back off all!” while he allowed the line to run rapidly out of the tub over the bollard. We backed our oars with all our might, knowing that our lives might depend on our getting clear of the monster before it commenced the fearful struggles it was probably about to make. Instead of sounding, however, or lashing the water with its flukes, it darted off along the surface at a rapid rate towards the land. Already a considerable portion of the line had run out when Medley secured it round the bollard, and away we flew, towed by the whale, at a furious rate through the water. The second line was secured to the end of the first, in case the whale should suddenly sound; but this it seemed to have no intention of doing. On and on we were dragged farther and farther from the ships, but we had no thoughts of cutting loose from the whale after all our exertions, and we hoped that, in its endeavours to escape, it would wear out its strength, and thus become an easy prey. Medley stood ready all the time to slacken out more line should its speed become so great as to run the risk of its dragging the bows under water, while the man next him sat with axe in hand prepared to cut it in case there was a probability of the boat being swamped. Nearer and nearer we approached the land, till we could distinctly see the surf rising up in a wall of foam, and breaking over the coral reef surrounding it. We expected every moment that the whale would turn to avoid the danger ahead, and that we should be able to haul in the slack of the rope, and get sufficiently close to give it another wound. That it was losing blood, and consequently its strength, we knew by the red tinge of the water in its wake; still it held on. I glanced towards the shore—I could see a gap in the line of surf, beyond which the land rose to a greater height than anywhere near. It formed, I concluded, the entrance to a bay or lagoon, but seemed so narrow that even a boat would run the danger of being swamped by the surging waters on either side. Galled or terror-stricken as the whale evidently was, I could scarcely suppose that it would run itself on shore, yet from the course it was taking it seemed possible that such it was about to do. Suddenly, however, the roar of the surf growing louder and louder, it appeared to perceive its danger, and leaping almost out of the water it turned away to the northward, giving the boat so violent a jerk that she was nearly capsized. Escaping that danger, we were exposed to another, for the sea, now brought on our beam, continually broke over the side, employing two hands in baling, while often it appeared as if she would be turned completely over. At length the monster began to lessen its speed, and we were hauling in the line to get up to it, when suddenly raising its flukes down it went, dragging out the line again at a rate which made the bollard smoke, but the sea breaking over the bows prevented it from catching fire. The first line was soon drawn out—the second went on, and that, too, speedily ran towards the end. It was vain to attempt stopping it. The whale was now, we knew, swimming under water, and heading away from the shore. It must ere long come up again—but could we hold on till then? Already the seas broke fearfully over the bows. In spite of the efforts of the men baling, the boat was half full of water. Medley seized the axe; the bitter end of the last line was reached. A dark sea came rolling on. Nothing could save us from being swamped, it seemed. The axe descended, a loud thud was heard, the line was severed. “Back off all!” cried Medley, taking the bow oar to steer by. We pulled for our lives; the sea broke under the bows. Scarcely till now were we conscious that, after all our toils, the whale was lost. We had not, as we had hoped, its huge body to hang on to, to protect us from the fury of the fast-rising seas. Darkness had now come on; we looked out in vain for either of the ships. The “Eagle,” on finding that we did not return, would burn blue lights to direct us to her. The “Lady Alice” would do the same should any of her boats be absent. We pulled on against the still rising seas. How long our boat would float amid them was doubtful. “There’s alight, boys!” cried Medley at length; but it was away to the northward, and far off, for it only just appeared above the horizon. To reach it we must bring the sea abeam and run a fearful risk of being rolled over or swamped. Still the attempt must be made, unless we were prepared to remain toiling at the oars all night, or to run the risk of trying to reach the shore. We continued to pull on, keeping the boat’s head to the sea, when, looking round, I observed a glimmering bluish light suddenly spring up on the starboard bow. That it was at an immense distance I knew, as I could not distinguish the body from which the rays of light proceeded. Medley saw it also. “She is hull down, and it would take us till morning to reach her, even if we could do it then,” he said in a tone which showed how serious he thought our condition. Still we could more easily reach the vessel from which the distant light proceeded than the one on our beam.

Our situation was sufficient to alarm the stoutest hearts, and we were all young and comparatively inexperienced. The dark sky seemed to have come down close above our heads; the foam-covered seas came rolling on, every instant increasing in size, while astern was the dreadful reef, over which the furious breakers were dashing with a terrific roar. I had given up my oar to another man, and was seated near Medley, when I saw a small bright speck in the sky just above the horizon.

“What is that? Can it come from a ship?” I asked, pointing it out to him. He was silent. Gradually the spot of light expanded into an arch.

“It is the eye of an hurricane,” he said at length. “We shall have it break upon us presently, and if we fail to reach the land, Jack, we shall not live to see another sunrise.”

Calmly telling the men to be prepared for the worst, but not to despair, he put the boat round, and we pulled in for the land. I told him of the opening I had seen. He had observed it also, but was doubtful whether we should discover it in the darkness. Still, unless we could do so, our destruction seemed certain. Earnestly I prayed for deliverance; so did Medley, I know. With fearful rapidity, borne onward by the sea, we approached the raging breakers. For some time in vain we looked along the line of foam for the opening we had seen. The howling tempest astern forbade us attempting to pull off the shore; but should we gain it, if it was inhabited, what sort of treatment were we to expect from the savages? Several boats’ crews had, it was said, lost their lives among this group. I was straining my eyes ahead when I made out against the sky the outline of the high land I had before remarked. Beyond it the clouds appeared to be brighter than in any other part of the heavens. The instant afterwards the pale moon burst forth, and though but for a brief space, it was long enough to enable her to serve as a beacon to us. Directly below her we saw the looked-for opening.