She Blows! And Sparm at That!

by William John Hopkins

“Well, Tim,” he said, with a smile, “she ’s a great vessel—a great ship, and as sweet a sailer as I ever saw.”

I grinned in return, from ear to ear. “That ’s what Captain Marshall says, sir, and he ’s just right. I spent one whole day just watching her sail.”

“I ’d give a leg,” he said, “to command a vessel like that. But there ’s the Annie Battles sailing these seas somewhere. She ’s almost as good, and she ’s mine. Help me below, Tim.”

So I lent him my shoulder until he was deposited on the cabin sofa. A glance showed me the same blue-white pitcher on the cabin table, with three empty glasses, and three empty chairs. The pitcher was empty too, and cold, but it had been neither empty nor cold. I knew.

At Batavia we left poor Mr. Snow in hospital, under the charge of the American consul. Although we were sorry for him, there was no one in the ship who was not glad to have him out of it. Soon after we left, a homeward-bound whaler called whose master was willing to take him. He was already better, and recovered pretty well before they reached New Bedford, but he never went to sea again. I remember that I saw him, more than ten years later. I said a few words to him, but found that he did not know me, and I had no wish to recall myself to him. He was night watchman for one or two of the banks then on Water Street, and was a little “queer,” but not queer enough to prevent his being a good enough night watchman.

We were in Batavia about a week, although I could see no reason for our staying more than a couple of days. The two men that we had picked up at Amsterdam Island with Captain Coffin left us there, and none were shipped in their places, as the old man did not like the looks of any of the candidates. This rejoiced me in particular, for I was practically put back in my boat. It was no cause of rejoicing to the sailmaker, however, for it put him back in his boat too; but Captain Nelson, I believe, expected to pick up a man or two later on. We sailed at last, expecting to look around the Java Sea a bit, and if there were no whales there, which Captain Nelson hardly expected, we would stand up the China Sea, past the Philippines, to the Japan grounds. The captain hoped to do well on the Japan grounds.

In Java Sea we did better than was expected. We saw several small schools, got fast four times, and saved two whales, one of them a big bull. This bull was the cause of an adventure which might have resulted seriously for me. We had got fast to him, and he had run for a while. Then he sounded. He had taken out quite a little line, when the strain on the line eased, although the line did not slack entirely. That was an indication that he had doubled on his course under water, and Mr. Brown kept a sharp lookout for him over the bow, for he might be coming to attack the boat. I could not help giving an occasional glance over the side. I confess that I was nervous. Mr. Brown did not see me, having his back toward me, but the Prince did, and held up his hand in warning, although he said nothing. That was not enough to stop me, and I glanced over again. One glance was enough. There was the whale coming up like a rocket, belly up and jaws open. I dropped my oar, and reached past Kane for the boat spade. As I reached, Mr. Brown gave a yell to stern all. Of course I could not, having no hold on my oar, but it was too late, anyway.

At that instant the lower jaw shot into the air past my head. I had never thought the teeth of a sperm whale looked very dangerous until I saw those teeth, looking like a row of gravestones, flashing by my eyes to twice my height. I did not stop to philosophize on the matter of whales’ teeth, however, but I jammed the boat spade down instantly, with all my strength and all my weight behind it. By pure good luck I hit the jaw muscles on one side, and cut them nearly through. Probably I saved the life of the tub-oarsman, who would have been caught between the jaws; or quite possibly I saved my own life, for I might have been the one to be caught by those jaws. It seemed, at the time, to be an opening for two young men.

The jaws closed partially, but there was no strength in the bite, and, although the planks on one side were stove in, between me and the tub oar, the boat was not bitten in two, which would have happened if the whale had had the full use of his jaw muscles. He made no further attack, but sank again into the sea, leaving us with the water pouring in through the broken planks. In a few minutes we were completely waterlogged, and the men sat in their places with the water up to their waists, and the seas breaking into the boat. Mr. Tilton pulled up and took our line, and killed the whale. All the fight seemed to have been taken out of him. He cut in over eighty-five barrels.

By the time we had that whale and our other one—a thirty-barrel cow, which made no fight—we were about off Macassar, and we held northward through the Strait of Macassar instead of going back and through the China Sea. We had head winds until we had got to the east of the Philippines, but we were in no hurry, and the head winds did not bother us. It was here that we saw a strange and interesting sight.