She Blows! And Sparm at That!

by William John Hopkins

The whale made seventy-three barrels. His deformed jaw was saved and cleaned, and when the Clearchus got home, it was added to the collection of such curiosities. It is now in the Whaling Museum.

The outcome of the other fight was different. The officers were at breakfast when we heard the cry from the masthead, and we all ran on deck at once. There were many spouts, quite a large school, four or five miles to leeward. We ran down for them, getting the boats and their gear ready as we went; and at a distance of about a mile we lowered four boats, all but Captain Coffin’s. His ankle was still giving him some trouble, although he used it. I have no doubt that that was just the reason it troubled him, for he had used it too soon and too much, and he was a great heavy man.

The whales in the school were, most of them, rather small cows; but there were two bulls of good size, about eighty or ninety barrels, Mr. Brown guessed. The boats devoted their attention to them. There was sea enough to make it easy to approach the whales, and they were to leeward, which made it easier still. Mr. Baker and Mr. Macy took one, while Mr. Tilton and Mr. Brown took the other. Mr. Baker struck his whale first, and Mr. Macy did not get fast to him at all, for he immediately ran to windward, not very fast, towing Mr. Baker, with Mr. Macy in pursuit. I did not see much of it, naturally; but Mr. Macy failed to catch him, and when he had taken Mr. Baker five miles to windward of the ship, the whale increased his speed, and the line parted. Starbuck had not been able to get both irons into him, and the second harpoon, skittering along on the top of the water, had cut and frayed the line. I could imagine Mr. Baker’s flow of language at that accident, which is one of the regular risks of the business. There was nothing for the two boats to do but to get back and try to find the rest of the school, but the school had gone. So had we.

Meanwhile we had struck our whale. We approached him from behind. I heard the hoarse bellow of his spout getting nearer—he was the loudest spouter I ever heard; we passed his flukes, which worked slowly and lazily, for he had not seen us, and the sea made too much noise for him to hear us; then we passed his small and his hump. Then Mr. Brown nodded to the Prince, and he stood up, I suppose, although I saw nothing of him. Then Mr. Brown laid the boat around, and we ran spang into the whale’s body just aft of his fin, and the Prince darted both of his irons as Mr. Brown yelled to us, “Stern all!” The whale gave one convulsive leap ahead, his flukes went into the air, and came down again, drenching everybody in the boat, and he sounded instantly and rapidly. He took out line very fast, one tub and half of the other; then he turned, and came up again as fast as he went down. The line went out very nearly as fast when he was coming up as when he went down, but it was held on the loggerhead, so that it did not all go out. He breached a short distance from the boat, almost his whole length out, falling back with a great noise and a splash which filled us half full of water.

A NANTUCKET SLEIGH-RIDE

Mr. Tilton, meanwhile, had been coming up as fast as he could, but he was not yet up with us. The whale obligingly lay still, looking about him with a malevolent eye, while we heaved in the slack of our line. We had it almost in when he caught sight of Mr. Tilton’s boat, and made for it instantly. Mr. Tilton withdrew a little, and the whale changed his mind and sounded again, but not deep. The cows of the school had come up, and were hovering near, but not near enough for Mr. Tilton to get any of them easily, and he had his eye on our bull. The cows seemed to have lost their wits. They reminded me of a flock of hens crossing the road, and they were as hard to get. Our bull came up, and we managed to give Mr. Brown one chance with the lance. The thrust had not reached any vital spot, and that was all we could do, for the whale made up his mind to run.

He ran to leeward, but he ran under water, and we went off on our sleigh-ride, accompanied by the whole school of cows. Now and then he came up to spout, but we were slowly distancing Mr. Tilton. We made several unavailing attempts, to pull up and lance, but the only effect was to increase the speed of the whale. The ship was hull down, and Mr. Tilton soon out of sight. That was early in the forenoon. That whale ran until late in the afternoon before we were able to pull up. As soon as he felt Mr. Brown’s lance, the whale sounded, head first, his flukes grazing the bottom of the boat as he went, and setting her to rolling, but not rolling her over. When he felt her, he turned like a flash, and came up again, obliquely at us, mouth open and belly up, thrusting and striking with his jaw. Most fortunately he did not stove the boat, but rolled it over, merely chipping the gunwale with his teeth.

Then he seemed to think that he had done damage enough—in which matter I agreed with him—probably settled us; and he lay about fifty feet away, snapping his spout hole and snapping his jaws, giving every evidence of extreme irritation, but not attacking. We should have been helpless if he had, and should have had to take to the water, and scatter. He was spouting thin blood, and probably in no great distress. I remember that several of the men, clinging to the bottom of the overturned boat, coolly discussed the color of the spout, and concluded that the whale was not seriously hurt, even with two harpoons in him, and two thrusts of the lance.

We slowly drifted nearer, until we rose and fell side by side, the boat occasionally rubbing against him, but he gave us no attention. The cows had disappeared. He lay there for over an hour, until we saw Mr. Tilton coming up under sail. When the whale caught sight of Mr. Tilton’s boat, he made for it at once, snapping his jaws. Mr. Tilton then had his sail down, and he backed away, evading the rush of the whale, and putting an iron into him. Upon feeling the iron, the whale ran again. He had not gone far, however,—not above a quarter of a mile,—when the line went slack, showing that the iron had drawn. We did not see that whale again, nor our two harpoons and tub of line. It was long after dark when we got aboard the ship, pretty well worn out.