There She Blows! Or, The Log of the Arethusa

by William Hussey Macy

"Here comes the camels round Brant Point!" cries the mate, running with the spyglass to look at the clumsy, floating dock which is creeping slowly at us, without any visible means of propulsion, so far as we can see, for the propellers are under the stern. It looks like nothing in the way of naval architecture that we have ever seen, but might serve as an immense floating battery, to be moored for the defence of a harbor. As it draws nearer, we can see that it is built in two parts, being divided lengthwise. The inside of each section or half is built concave to receive the hull of the ship, and to fit round her sides, and under her bilge and floor, as nearly as possible to its general form. The two parts are connected by several heavy chains, which are secured on the deck of one "camel," passing down through it under the keel of the ship, and up through the other, where they are hove taut with windlasses.

The camels having taken up their position near the ship, the plugs are drawn, allowing them to fill with water and sink. Being now ready to receive the ship, our anchor is hove up, lines streamed, and she is hauled in between them. The connecting chains are then hove taut by the windlasses, and thus the ship is completely docked, her bottom resting fairly on the concave inner surfaces of the camels, and the chains passing under her keel. She is now ready to be raised, and as soon as the steamboat heaves in sight, returning from her regular trip to New Bedford the steam pumps are set in operation throwing out the water from the camels. The steamer passes within hail, and goes on into the harbor to land her mails and passengers, the captain promising to return at once and hook on to us. Meanwhile the steampumps work steadily on, throwing out the water, and the whole fabric is seen gradually to rise, inch by inch, till the water is all out, and the ship is lifted out of the water, the camels themselves being flat and the draft very light. We are just in time for the returning steamboat, hawsers are run to us, she takes us in tow, and after a short struggle to overcome the vis inertiæ of the immense arklike contrivance, we move along under good headway. We round Brant Point and steam up nearly to the end of the wharf, when the steamer leaves us, the camels are filled and sink down again, the ship is dropped out from between them, lines run to the pier, and, in a few minutes, she is tied up head and stern alongside her wharf, and ready to discharge her oil. "Hurrah for the camels!" is the sentiment of every man on board, and of nearly every one on shore, too, except the lightermen whose "occupation is gone."

Our old landlord is on hand to furnish us board and lodging at the old rates; Messrs. Brooks & Co. are in the same place, the same business operations are going on now as three years ago, and the same knots of seafaring men, or, at least, their very counterparts, pervade "the store," and pass their time in much the same manner. No one seems to have changed or grown any older. There is nothing new under the sun but the camels and the steamer "Massachusetts."

Of course, we could not be paid off until the oil was discharged on the wharf, gauged, and filled up, so that our "lays" could be calculated exactly. This detained me several days; for, although I might have drawn money from the owners, or from Brooks & Co., yet I preferred to settle up the whole matter before going home to my friends, rather than to be under the necessity of returning to Nantucket. I, of course, took my place among the veteran whalemen, now. I had earned the right to wear a fine, blue roundabout, and morocco pumps, with long streamers of ribbon, to roll and swagger as becomes the "ancient mariner," and to patronize the green hands who formed the last cargo of the Lydia Ann, for that gallant craft is still running as good as new.

The newly-arrived seaman, if he be man enough to keep himself sober, finds the time hang heavily on his hands. A restless activity is observable in all his movements, and some sort of excitement must be found to drive away the blues. It is found, at least so long as the money lasts. We patronized the livery stables extensively; for every day a string of carriages might be seen bound at racing speed to or from Siasconset, or "South Shore," the occupants urging the smoking horses to their greatest efforts, in desperate rivalry to "outsail" each other; and the cruise is a dull one, and wanting in interest, unless there is either a capsize, a breakdown, a runaway, or a collision. Jack is no horseman, though he is prone to think himself an excellent one. His courage and coolness in emergencies, perhaps, stand him in as good stead as would a better acquaintance with the management of the animal, for he never becomes excited after the danger arrives, and never loses his self-possession at the very moment it is needed. It is owing perhaps to this fact, that he never gets hurt in these little equestrian diversions, though he often has heavy bills to pay for repairs, to the livery-stable proprietors.

The bowling-alley is another of the seaman's favorite resorts, where he can strip to his shirt sleeves, select the heaviest balls, and sling them at the pins with a perfect abandon or "looseness," as he would term it. The game is muscular and boisterous, and these are its recommendations; for, it is notable that the whaleman, or at least, the young whaleman, never affects billiards. Gentle exercise, such as can be taken with the coat buttoned, is not to his taste, until after he arrives at the rank of chief mate, and has more sedateness, and more dignity to maintain.

But few days are allowed me to participate in the rough sports of my brother Cape Horners, for the stevedore's gang, and the laborers, with the gauger on the wharf have not been idle, and the "figurer," as he is called here (and who, by the way, is not one of the owners of the ship, but a disinterested party), is ready to settle up and pay us off. The next morning sees a goodly number of us on board the steamer, bound for our respective homes. We take our last look at the ship that has borne us in safety over so many thousand miles of ocean, as she now lies at the next wharf, high out of water, and in process of being stripped to a girtline, for she is to be fitted out again as fast as possible under command of Mr. Grafton. He has offered me a good berth in her, but I have not committed myself yet by any decided answer. Kelly and Hoeg are both going with him, as boatsteerers, of course, and perhaps some of the others. But I must visit my home in the country, and look about me a little before I make up my mind for another whaling cruise. In the meantime, I bid them a hearty farewell, as to all others who have accompanied me, either in the good ship herself, or in these sketches, through the pleasures and perils, the lights and shades of my checkered cruise in the Arethusa.

THE END.

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