Barney Blake, the Boy Privateer; or, The Cruise of the Queer Fish

by Herrick Johnstone

  CHAPTER XI.

  AMONG THE WHALERS.

  One interesting point which we visited on our way westward was theIsland of Juan Fernandez, which has been made so famous by the fabulousadventures of Robinson Crusoe.

  The island is quite small and girt with a thin line of reefs throughwhose intricacies it is almost impossible for a vessel larger than along-boat to make a channel. The island itself is surpassinglybeautiful. It is one of these little heavens of the summer sea whichforcibly recalls the beautiful description of Tennyson:--

  "Oh to burst all links of habit, and to wander far away, On from island unto island, at the gateways of the day. Larger constellations burning, mellow moons and happy skies, Breadths of tropic shade, and palms in cluster, knots of Paradise. Never comes the trader, never floats an European flag. Slides the bird o'er lustrous woodland, swings the trailer from the crag; Droops the heavy-blossomed bower, hangs the heavy fruited tree-- Summer isles of Eden lying in the dark-purple spheres of sea. There, methinks, would be enjoyment more than in this march of mind. In the steamship, in the railway, in the thoughts that shake mankind. There the passions, cramped no longer, shall have scope and breathing space: I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my dusky race. Iron-jointed, supple-sinewed, they shall dive and they shall run. Catch the wild goat by the hair, and hurl their lances in the sun; Whistle back the parrot's call, and leap the rainbows of the brooks. Not with blinded eyesight poring over miserable books."

  We left this delightful isle astern and drove to the westward, capturingmany whalers by the way. We had succeeded in filling up our ship'scompany to more than repletion at Valparaiso, and now had prize-crews inabundance. When we had been short of men Captain Joker, in as many asthree cases, had allowed valuable vessels of the enemy to go on theircourse on account of not having sufficient men to put prize-crewsaboard.

  It had been frequently urged by the first mate to destroy such vessels(after the manner of Captain Semmes) but Captain Joker invariablyrefused to do anything of the kind, swearing, in his rough, manlyfashion, that he would sooner let the vessels go free than give them tothe flames.

  There was not much adventure in the capture of these vessels. It wasmerely a firing of a few shots across the bows of the blunt-bowed,heavily-laden craft, which seldom failed to bring her to, and then apeaceable taking possession of her. There was one instance in whichthere was a difference.

  We one day (in the latter part of October, I think,) brought a vessel tosomewhere within two degrees southward of the Sandwich Islands. She wasa whaler from Hull, England, and as we came up to capture her wasengaged in the capture of a whale. All her boats were out in pursuit.When we boarded her (her name was the Jenny Hollins) and the captainlearned our true character, he immediately signaled his boats toreturn--or was about to do so, when Captain Joker stopped him with:

  "Let them alone, my dear captain, they're very creditably engaged."

  "But, sir," exclaimed the English skipper, "I have surrendered to you. Ido not care to have my men employed to enrich your Government."

  "My dear captain, pray let them alone. Boatswain," (turning to TonyTrybrace) "just take the long-boat with a complement of men, follow theboats of the Jenny Hollins and see that they do their work well, andthen order them to the ship. We cannot afford to lose a good whale inthese times."

  So, in spite of the mortified pride of the skipper of the Jenny Hollins,Tony set out in the long-boat, wherein myself and most of my chums wererowers. The whale-boats were busily engaged in tackling a huge whale,probably thinking our craft to be nothing more than a brother whaler,stopped to take pot-luck.

  They had harpooned their prey several times, and he had come up tobreathe for the last time, and to die, when we rowed up. Now, a spermwhale in his death-flurry, as it is called, is not to be approachedincautiously, without danger. But we were by no means experiencedwhalers, and rowed in, regardless of expense or peril, when, suddenly,we caught his tail squarely under our keel, and were lifted up skywardabout forty feet, the boat capsizing in the air and tumbling everybodyand everything out in the shake of a sheep's tail. Well, we all camedown with a rush, as you may be sure. I am sorry to state that I,instead of coming down in the water, alit, head-first, on the back ofthe Leviathan, stunning me, and leaving me floating around in the waterlike a dead man. But, fortunately, our boat had fallen bottom downward,old Bluefish had regained her, and we were all picked up, one afteranother, more dripping than hurt. I remember coming to slowly, andhearing old Bluefish murmuring in my ears, with as much of tenderness ascould inform his rude voice:

  "Wake up! wake up! There's a dear fellow! I know'd as how a son of asea-cook was never born to be drownded in salt water!"

  Well, the whale breathed his last soon after our mishap, and we helpedthe men tow her to the ship; though they were, of course, somewhatcrestfallen to learn that they had been in the employ of Uncle Sam forthe last hour or two.

  Nevertheless, we had a gay time in trying out and cutting up themonster. There was a singular mishap occurred at about the close of thisoperation.

  It is the custom to have the carcass of the whale lashed to the side ofthe ship while the work of cutting up is going on. I may as wellmention, by way of parenthesis, that this operation of cutting upallures a great number of sharks to the side of the ship, for the sakeof the worthless blubber and other _d?bris_. And, at this time, any manmay venture among the black-fins with perfect impunity--so much more iswhale-meat esteemed above human flesh by epicurean sharks. As soon asthe flesh that is triable is taken from the whale, the carcass becomes adead weight in the water, descending through the waves with a rush assoon as the stays are cut.

  It happened that, in the case of our whale, when all but the lastlashing were cut, one of the crew of the whaler, who was standing on thecarcass, got his feet entangled in some of the cordage remaining on it.Just as the last stay was severed, he was discovered, and was rapidlybeing drawn to the bottom of the sea, when Old Nick threw a rope abouthis shoulders, and this served to hold him up. But, in the interim, theentire weight of the enormous skeleton was sustained by the body of theunfortunate seaman, who thereupon began to shriek out in mortal agony.The poor fellow would very probably have been dismembered, had not ourheroic and shark-defying Snollygoster jumped overboard, with a knife,and severed the lashings by which he was held to the carcass. The latterimmediately disappeared, followed by a great whirlpool of brine. Had theman not been caught, he would have been dragged down many fathoms belowthe sea; had his feet not been released from the weight of the carcassin time, he would very probably have been disjointed and slain withhorrible agonies. As it was, he was more scared than hurt, andSnollygoster added another plume to his cap.

  Before I quit our whaling experience, I must recur to another strikingevent of a more truly tragic character than the one just described.

  We had captured a whaler from Southampton under very similarcircumstances with the foregoing. Her boats were out--all but one--and Igot permission from the captain to accompany this one, as I was anxiousto see a whale capture through, from its inception to its close.

  There were six boats in all, and ours the hindmost, but the whale--avery large one--dove and came up nearest us, so that we got in the firstharpoon. Our harpooner, an athletic Yorkshireman, stood up in the bow ofthe boat, and struck home in the broad back of the whale as it roseabove the water. The whale went down like lightning at the first prickof the harpoon. The lines connected with the harpoon are carefullycoiled around in the middle of large tubs, with grooves at the bow forthem to slip over. When a whale dives, these lines run out withindescribable swiftness. The groove fairly smokes, and several bucketsof water are always dashed upon it to prevent the boat from taking fire.At the same time, a leg or an arm, caught in one of the coils, would bealmost certain death to the owner.

  On the occasion of which I speak, one of the oarsmen, with his back tothe bow of th
e boat, had carelessly stepped into one of these tubs whenthe whale was struck. Down went the whale with a flash and a whirlpool.The man saw his danger, but too late, and just had time to sing out,"Clear away the line!" when he was whipped overboard and was never seenagain.

  We played havoc among the whalers for a long time, capturing as many asthirty valuable vessels, and sending them home.

  We met with a terrible squall when a few leagues north of Otaheite, andweathered it with much difficulty. As it was, we sustained such damagesthat it was imperative to make for some port for repairs. It wouldn't doto enter Otaheite (Tahiti, it is sometimes called--probably the mostbeautiful spot in the world in all respects) on account of Britishinfluence prevailing there, so we set sail for the SandwichIslands--intending, if unable to procure the necessary repairs there, toproceed to some port on the coast of California.