William H. Macy  Source  Whalesite

Leaves from the Arethusa's Log.
No. 12

W. H. Macy

Flag of our Union.
Vol. 23, No. 36 (Sep  5, 1868)
p. 574.

Leaves from the Arethusa's Log.

No. 12.

FISHING AT JUAN FERNANDEZ. — FIGHT WITH AN UGLY WHALE.

      "Blacksmith, how long is it since you read Robinson Crusoe?" asked the mate, as he stopped in his walk near the mainmast, and leaned against the top-sail-sheet bitts. "Some years, I suppose?"

      "No, sir," said I. "The last time I read it was less than one year ago, and I found it as fresh and entertaining as ever."

      "No doubt of it," replied Father Grafton. "Nothing connected with my schoolboy days has so firmly stamped itself on my memory as the appearance of the old copy of Crusoe, that I owned for many years; indeed, I carried it to sea with me on my first voyage, and it was accidentally lost overboard. I can see the brown paper and the quaint old type with its f and long s so dangerously alike, and its horrible woodcuts! for it was a copy of a very old edition, and had, no doubt, delighted two or three generations of boys before it fell into my hands. But what reminded me of it to-night is the fact that we shall probably make Juan Fernandez to-morrow."

      "Yet this island is not mentioned in the story, I believe," said I.

      "No, the scene of the romance lies on the Atlantic side, somewhere near the mouth of the Orinoco; but it is probable that De Foe got the idea from the story of a Scotchman who lived three years on this island."

      "O yes," said I, "I remember the soliloquy of this Selkirk that I used to read and declaim at the country school,

      Then I suppose this Selkirk story is really true, is it?"

      "Yes, there is no good reason to doubt it. He was taken off the island by the English circumnavigator, Rogers, in 1709, if I remember right."

      "Is there any one living on it now?" I asked.

      "I don't know. There was no one there the last visit I made to it. But I have heard since that the Chilian government made use of it as a penal settlement, or something of the kind. But we shall not probably land there. What we want is a good haul of fresh fish, and this is just the place to find it. We must muster all the fishing-lines in the ship; the old man has got plenty of hooks; and, by the way, I want you in the morning to get an iron hoop from the cooper and net it across with ropeyarn ('Cooper' will know just what I want), to catch some crawfish."

      "What sort of fish are they?" asked I.

      "Why, they are a species of the lobster family, and fully equal to any of our lobsters in flavor."

      "Juan Fernandez," resumed the mate, "is a name that more correctly belongs to both islands, some seventy or eighty miles apart. The Spaniards called them Mas a tierra and Mas a fuera, from their relative positions, 'more inshore,' and 'more off-shore.' The westernmost is still known by its name of Masa fuera, but this one seems to have taken 'Juan Fernandez' as its distinctive title."

      We stood in near this beautiful island, which is invested with a sort of romantic interest from the circumstances to which the mate alluded; and certainly, I thought, if a man must load a solitary life for a series of years, this would not be the last place he would select for his hermitage. The larboard and waist-boats were equipped and lowered for the fishing excursion, and we shoved off in high feather. We were provided with convenient anchors which we dropped within a short distance of the rocks, where the water was alive with fish of various kinds, which could be plainly seen darting and winding below us. The lines were hardly down among them when some one hauled a fish into the boat; some one else followed with another; and the sport was fairly begun. Pieces of pork furnished bait to start with; then the fish supplied tempting morsels of their own flesh for the hook, to allure their cannibalic brethren to share their captivity. O ye amateur anglers who sit with a rod and fly, tempting little innocent fish to nibble and thinking it not bad sport if you get two or three nibbles an hour, come to Juan Fernandez and find good, hearty, muscular sport, that you will not fall asleep at.

      "Halloo!" shouted Obed B., as he recoiled from the haul he had made, staring with disgust, "what the deuce have I got on my hook now?"

      "Conger eel!" said the mate, with a roar of laughter. "That's not the kind you used to spear in Nantucket docks, or stay all night for at Maddaket ditch. Let's see you get clear of him, now you've caught him," for the eel had wriggled and twisted himself into a hopeless snarl with the line, after swallowing the hook firmly; and defied all his attempts to release him, for, as Hoeg expressed it, he "wouldn't be handled."

      Manoel, the Portuguese, being better acquainted with eels of that sort, soon got him clear. He said they were good eating; but Hoeg slung him overboard again with, "Who in thunder do you suppose wants to eat that flat-headed snake?"

      And now every one began to haul more or less of these eels, which created much merriment and boisterous laughter, while it consumed much time in clearing lines and getting rid of them.

      The first haul of my impromptu net brought up one crustaceous monster of the kind I wanted, among a snarl of eels who had writhed and squirmed into and through the meshes of the net, with their teeth fastened among the rope-yarns, and clinging with a pertinacity and muscular power of jaw, which plainly said, "nought but death shall part us." Over it went again, eels and all; and I caught several more crawfish, great, ugly-looking fellows, who added greatly to the confusion under our feet by flinging their claws and feelers about among the fish at the bottom of the boat.

      A loud hail from Mr. Dunham, whose boat was anchored at some distance from us, suddenly interrupted the sport upon which we had been so intent; and looking up with one accord, we saw that his crew were hauling in their lines for a start, while he himself was gesticulating with his arm extended in the direction of the ship. The ensign was flying at the gaff; a signal of recall.

      "He sees whales!" said Mr. Grafton. "In lines, boys! Make them up at once. Haul in your net, Blacksmith, or cut it adrift, and set the sail, as soon as you can get the anchor aweigh!" The orders were obeyed with all speed, and the two boats were soon nearing the ship as fast as the sails and oars would carry us. The small flag was already up at the main; and the extended "pointer" (a light pole with a black ball on the end of it, to be used at the masthead, when the boats are down) told us that the whale was off the ship's lee bow.

      "There he hauls aback!" said Father Grafton, "and I declare, there goes the starboard boat down. The whale must be in range of the ship from us, and pretty near the ship too, for the old man can't wait for us, and is going to try him alone — Look! Here's another ship hove in sight round that point, and coming under all sail. Spring hard men, and get alongside! If we only had our line tub in, I wouldn't go to the ship at all, I'd take the fish with me, or else throw them overboard."

      The second mate was but little ahead of us in getting alongside the ship, and we both strove to outdo each other in getting the lumber out of the boat and the lines in. Fish flew in on deck with the fury of a bombardment; fishing-lines and boat anchors were bundled in among them; we sung out for our line at the same moment Mr. Dunham was shouting for his, and the cooper in the maintopgallant-crosstrees excited us to still greater exertions, by the cry "The old man's most on! If he spouts twice more, he'll have him!"

      "Bear a hand with that tub!" said Father Grafton. "Be careful to keep it upright, and don't break the coil! So; lower handsomely now! Let go! Shove off, and get your oars out as fast as you can!"

      As we swung out by the stern of the ship, the cooper roared again:

      "There's white wate-e-er! The old man's fast!"

      "Bend on your craft, Blacksmith, as fast as you can," said the mate, "and be sure you have everything clear. Pull ahead, the rest of you."

      The two boats were pretty equally matched for a pull; for, though ours was a little the fastest when under sail, Mr. Dunham's crew were rather heavier than ours, and the excess of muscular power counterbalanced the slight difference in the models of the two boats. We diverged a little so as to give each other full swing, and then "hooked down" to our work; for the whale was spinning off to leeward at a smart pace, and a stern chase is proverbially a long one.

      "He stays up well," said the mate, who kept his clear eye fixed upon the fast whale; "he hasn't sounded yet, but he runs so that the old man can't haul up to him. There he 'mills!' he's headed along on a wind now," said he, rapidly altering the boat's course with the steering oar, so as to forereach on him. "Stretch hard men! he's milling more yet! coming to windward! right at us now! All right, we'll take him 'head and head!'"

      The two boats now converged again, both aiming for the same point of attack, and steering for the nib-end of the whale. The general reader may be surprised at this mode of approaching him, unless informed that the sperm whale cannot see directly ahead of him, but if a boat pulls for his broadside, he is much more liable to take the alarm.

      "Stand up, Blacksmith, and get your craft ready," said the mate, quietly. "See that everything is clear. Be sure and keep cool, and don't dart too soon. Ease pulling, all! He's coming quick enough; there's no need to pull, but stand by your oars, all ready at the word."

      He was indeed coming, with a vengeance! As I stood up, he was just in the act of rounding his immense back above the water, after blowing, and the white water was flying from his sides in clouds, as he forced himself to windward. The muscular power of an animal like this is fearful to think of; and I must confess to anxious feelings, nay, to a feeling of dread, even, at the novel position in which I had been so suddenly placed. I remembered Father Grafton's injunction to keep cool, and then thought of the old man's expressive and characteristic words, "Get a good scote, and grit the ends of your front teeth off." I had not time to think of much more, for as his spout-hole made its next appearance above the surface, I saw that he had lessened the distance between us fully one half. He blew off his spout, clear and strong, and as his back rose again, I saw that the captain's boat was but slightly fast by one iron. He had his second iron in the crotch, having hauled it in, but had not yet been able to haul near to the whale, so as to use it.

      "Look out next time," said Mr. Grafton in a low, anxious tone. "Don't be in a hurry to dart till you are past his head."

      I glanced round; the other boat was waiting the crisis like ourselves, on the other side, just giving room for the whale to pass handsomely between us. Fisher stood balancing his first iron, all eagerness for the fray.

      A roar saluted my ears, and a cloud of spray was blown into the air like very fine rain, so near as to envelop me in its cool shower. I grasped my iron; all feelings of fear or dread had vanished. Not so the feeling of anxiety, but it was only anxiety lest the prey might yet escape me.

      "Steady, my boy!" said the mate again, "Hold your hand!"

      His massive head drew swiftly towards me; the boat rocked in the swell forced off from his glossy side: and his broad back lay temptingly before me. It was a sure thing.

      "Now Blacksmith!" said the mate, throwing the boat's head off as he spoke.

      I needed no second bidding; my first iron went in to the socket, and the second followed it, though not quite so deeply.

      "Good!" said Father Grafton. "Heave your box-line overboard!"

      With his shout was mingled a cry of "Stern! Stern hard!" from the other boat; I saw Fisher's iron cleave its way through the shining blackskin opposite my own, there was a convulsive heaving and rocking of everything about us, then a loud crash and splintering sound. The waist-boat's crew were all swimming amid the chaotic wreck of their frail craft. Her broadside was crushed in clear fore and aft. The whale had thrown himself over towards her, and we had escaped without injury.

      The monster had disappeared instantly, but was evidently not far beneath us, as all the lines hung slack. The second mate had, of course, cut his, as soon as he could get at it. We sterned off out of the slick where the whale had gone down, and lay just at the outer rim of the bloody water.

      "You are well fast, Mr. Grafton, with both irons; you hold on!" said the old man. "I'll cut off and pick up the crew. Never mind, we'll divide 'em. Take three men into your boat, and we'll both hold on. Never mind the stoven boat; we can't bother about her now."

      The dripping crew were all rescued; for, by a good fortune which seems almost miraculous in hundreds of similar cases, no one was hurt; and we now prepared for a fresh attack with nine men in each boat; though reinforcements of this kind were not at all desirable as the boats were overloaded, and every one was in every one else's way. But the ship had run down, and was close by us, in case of further accident; we had yet three hours to sundown, and the strange ship was also near, watching our movements, and had hoisted her private or owner's signal, by which we knew her to be the Fortitude; which lay at the "Bar" when we sailed and had shortly followed us.

      "Where is the whale?" said the old man. "Our line is all slack." Then suddenly he roared, "Look out! Stern all! stern, out of the way!"

      The ponderous head of the whale was standing erect above the water like a milestone; it swayed for a moment, and then seeming to fall over backwards, the lower jaw, with its ugly display of ivory, was thrust up, nearly at right angles with the upper.

      "Stern! Stern hard, and give him room! He'll bear watching, Mr. Grafton. We shall have to look out for slants. I would like to get my second iron in, but I'm afraid he wont give me a chance soon."

      But he did, however; for after impotently gnashing his jaw two or three times, he rolled over and straightened out, spouting, apparently, as strong as ever. It was plain that he had plenty of fight in him yet, and was fairly brought to bay. He did not intend to run any more.

      The starboard boat pulled up carefully within dart, and as she did so, leviathan rolled up sidewise to meet her. Captain Upton was not to be daunted, however, but crying "Stern all!" he pitched his second iron in near the fin, and as the whale continued rolling, followed it up with his lance in the breast, between the fins. Quick as lightning, down settled the monstrous body, and the whale again stood on end with his jaw out. He flung the jaw over with a desperate sweep, which would have dealt destruction to the boat and all hands had the range been a little shorter. The starboard boat fell back to her former position with the loss of her midship oar and the gunwale split, but that was a trifle. The whale had received two more severe wounds, at any rate; and it was our turn to take the next round with him, when he should straighten again, which he immediately did, still spouting clear, though not so strong as before.

      In the language of the ring, Mr. Grafton "was on hand at the call of time;" but the whale "played the drop game on us," and with partial success. He went down like a stone; sinking so quickly that he received the mate's lance much higher in the body than was hoped or intended.

      "He's an ugly customer, Mr. Grafton," said the captain as we sheered off again. "Keep your eyes peeled! there's no telling where he'll come next."

      But I soon had reason to know where he was. There was a light rippling under the stern of our boat, then a rise of the sea, lifting her a little; and that fatal lower jaw stood like a small tower on one side of the boat, with its double tier of ivory cones towards me, while the tremendous head, full of scars, overshadowed me on the other. I did not stop to investigate their beauties; but, while the tub and stroke oarsmen vanished over the gunwales, one each side, I vaulted a sort of back somersault over the steering strap, just as the monster "shut pan" upon her, crushing her stern up like an egg-shell. This "steel-trap" manœuvre had proved a perfect success, and nine men were swimming for their lives while the captain's boat was already overloaded with the other nine!

      But reinforcements were not far off. As I looked about me when I rose, the captain's waif was set for help, and the Fortitude's three boats were already splashing into the water. The old man had cut adrift from the whale, and had already thirteen men in his boat formed in close column, the other five clinging to the wreck of the larboard boat, when the three boats of our consort, all abreast, got within hail.

      "Pick up, my men, Wyer, and let some of your boats strike the whale!" said the old man. "You shall have half of him, and welcome, if we can manage to muckle him out before night. But work shy with him, or you will lose some of your boats, too."

      "All right!" answered Captain Wyer. "Come, Grafton, light into my boat here. Jump in, my boys, all of you. Look out for the whale, Mr. Swain," to his own mate, "and if you get a chance, pitch in. Be a little careful, though, and you too, Mr. Russell, don't go harem-scarem! Where is the whale, Upton?"

      "Somewhere under us," returned the old man, as coolly as if he had said he was two miles off. "There he is!" he continued, as the whale broke water within a ship's length of the Fortitude's waist-boat, and Russell's boatsteerer jumped up and down in the excitement of the moment.      A few strokes sent the boat alongside of him, going on "quartering," but both Russell and his boatsteerer were a little too eager, or "harem-scarem" as his captain termed it. A blow from the monster's immense "fan" swept the two oars from the port side of his boat, ripping out the peak-cleets and splitting his gunwale, while his bowman was considerably hurt by one of the oars striking him in the head. His boat was still tight, however, and the injured man was transferred to Captain Wyer's boat, and I took his place to "bow on" if a chance offered.

      "Never mind, Mr. Russell, try him again!" said our captain. "Here's spare oars, if you want, pick 'em up, all round here. Hold on a bit, though; let Swain have a try, he's got the chance now."

      The mate of the Fortitude was one of those long-limbed, powerful men, who seemed to have been built expressly to "straighten ten fathom of lance-wrap and do execution." He was wary too, in his approach, and waited for what he thought was a "good time in." He hurled his iron when four fathoms distant, and put it well in, calling, "Stern, stern hard!" As he drew back his lance for a long dart, it seemed to me impossible that he could reach him, as he poised it in his hands, still backing with his oars. When he judged himself at a safe distance, it sped for its mark with a momentum that was positively fearful. He drew it back; a quiver was perceptible in the sides of the vast body of the monster who had fought so valiantly for his life; and thirty-six voices greeted the thick clots of blood now faintly gushing from his spout-hole, with glad shouts of victory.

      "He's throwing up the sponge," said Mr. Swain, quietly. "A child can take care of him now."

      We picked up and secured the wrecks of our boats and gear, while the whale was hauled alongside the Fortitude. It was agreed that Captain Wyer should cut and boil him, and we would divide the oil in Talcahuana, as we both expected to be there soon. We bought a boat of the Fortitude, rigged the spare one overhead, and thus were enabled to lower the complement of three. We stretched across to Massafuera and back, cruising between the two islands, till one more large whale rewarded our efforts; and bore away for the rendezvous, our consort having left the ground the day before. The cooper had added one to his stock of yarns which would require but little embellishment to make it marvellous. Mr. Grafton and Fisher were converts to the "eating whale" theory; and "the doctor" listened with delight as we rehearsed the incidents of the capture of "the Juan Fernandez whale;" displaying, as he listened, an array of ivory almost as formidable as that of the redoubtable whale himself.

Source:

W. H. Macy.
"Leaves from the Arethusa's Log - No. 12."
      Flag of Our Union.
Vol. 23, No. 36 (Sep  5, 1868)
p. 574.

William H. Macy  Source  Whalesite