She Blows! And Sparm at That!

by William John Hopkins

CUTTING-IN

Strangely enough, Mr. Wallet was the most skilful cutter we had, and he put his heart into his work, and took great interest in doing it well and quickly. He kept the others on the jump to keep up with him, and nothing put him out more than to see that any other man did not have to hurry. He was not at all of that temper in any other work that he did. In fact, he was pretty nearly a flat failure as an officer, and I often wondered whether it was not his great skill with the spade that held his position.

The order of the different operations in cutting-in is always necessarily about the same, but some slight variation in them is found in different ships, in accordance with the ideas of the men who do the cutting. It is usual to begin with cutting off the head at the same time that the blanket strip of blubber is unrolled. Mr. Wallet varied this practice by cutting out the tongue first, which, in the sperm whale, is moderately large, thick, and soft; then he cut off the jaw, and then severed the head from the body.

Before any cutting was done, the whale was hauled forward until his eye was opposite the gangway. Then Mr. Wallet stepped proudly out on the cutting-stage, and fastened his monkey-rope loosely to the railing of the stage. The monkey-rope is about a man’s waist, the other end fast to any convenient thing, or held by another man on the ship. Its purpose is to prevent a man’s falling into the sea. After Mr. Wallet came Mr. Brown, who disdained the use of the monkey-rope, as did almost all of those for whose benefit it was intended. Mr. Wallet and Mr. Brown were to be engaged in cutting the head, tongue and jaw. Mr. Tilton and Mr. Snow, the fifth mate, the little man of prodigious energy, then went on. Mr. Baker did no cutting on this whale, probably thinking that enough was enough.

The body of a dead whale, as I have said, floats on its side, with one fin uppermost. Mr. Tilton and Mr. Snow went to work at once, cutting a hole clear through the blubber, just above the fin; in fact, this hole was so near the head that it was partly through the “white horse,” which they call the extremely tough layer of integuments surrounding the eye and most of the head. They worked together, and the spades rose and fell in alternation, one driving his spade down on one side, then the other driving down his spade on the other side, as two axemen cut a scarf in a tree. Thus, at every stroke, there was a V-shaped piece cut out. The heavy spade is almost thrown at the place where the cut is to be made, with great accuracy, and the scarf progresses with surprising speed.

Meanwhile Mr. Wallet and Mr. Brown were busy, cutting out the tongue. Mr. Wallet found, for the first time in his career, I guessed, that he had a working partner whom he was unable to hurry. Mr. Brown matched stroke for stroke, however fast Mr. Wallet worked; and his strokes were delivered with as great accuracy as Mr. Wallet’s, and with greater force. Remember that this was the first chance there had been on that voyage to match powers. I saw Mr. Wallet glance up with annoyance, and put on more speed. Mr. Brown met the increase in speed without turning a hair. Mr. Wallet nearly doubled his speed, and Mr. Brown again met it, driving his spade in with greater force than before. I had never, up to that time, seen a stamp mill, but I saw one at the Centennial, after my return from that voyage, and it reminded me so exactly of Mr. Wallet and Mr. Brown, cutting out that tongue, that I stood before it, and laughed aloud, much to the astonishment of the others who stood there. Both the men labored and sweated, but Mr. Wallet sweated more, while there was the flicker of a smile on Mr. Brown’s lips.

“Too fast for you?” Mr. Wallet asked.

“Go as fast as you like,” said Mr. Brown.

It was a great waste of energy, and too much of a strain for Mr. Wallet, who was then delivering strokes of his spade at the rate of fifty or more a minute, while the greatest normal rate is twelve to fifteen. Mr. Tilton and Mr. Snow were almost convulsed with laughter, so that their blows fell to eight or less, and there was no strength in them. I heard a snicker from one of the crew, and I could not forbear a snicker of my own. Mr. Wallet may not have heard the snickers; he affected not to, but he lowered his rate at once to fifteen a minute.