Part 1
[Illustration]
[Illustration: _UNDER SAIL_
A Yankee whaling barque of the fifties]
GREASY LUCK
[Illustration: Sailor holding harpoon]
A WHALING SKETCH BOOK
by GORDON GRANT
WILLIAM FARQUHAR PAYSON NEW YORK
CARAVAN MARITIME BOOKS JAMAICA, NEW YORK _1970_
COPYRIGHT, 1932 WILLIAM FARQUHAR PAYSON NEW YORK
CARAVAN MARITIME BOOKS JAMAICA, NEW YORK
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA _by_ SENTRY PRESS, NEW YORK, N. Y. 10019
[Illustration: Sea gull]
TO MY WIFE _a lover of ships_
[Illustration: Whale]
The author gratefully acknowledges his debt to FRANK WOOD and WILLIAM H. TRIPP of the Whaling Museum of New Bedford, for their splendid cooperation--and to CLIFFORD W. ASHLEY and his most admirable book “_The Yankee Whaler_”
_FOREWORD_
Turning the pages of Gordon Grant’s pictured story of whaling, it suddenly struck me that the task of writing an introduction had certain unusual features. Acting as a liaison officer between Captain Ahab of the whaling ship _Pequod_ and the sheltered generation of 1932, it is necessary to bear in mind that most members of this generation are unaware that whaling is still an industry. They imagine it as part of the closed book of New England maritime history. They regard it romantically, and the ancient masthead shout, “Thar she blows!” is familiar to the ladies and gentlemen who patronize the fast Atlantic ferries. Whaling, in short, has become an antique interest, and visitors to New Bedford may study the whole business in the collection of the Old Dartmouth Historical Society.
The difference between this adventurous and romantic calling and the modern whaleship is precisely the difference between pig-sticking as practised by army officers in India and the stock-yards of Chicago and Argentina. Making all allowance for the New Englander’s passion for gain, there had to be some sporting instinct to send men out on “lays” instead of wages, and to make them follow, year after year, so dangerous a trade. It was only when another sporting chance came along, the chance of the golden west, of striking further and further beyond the ranges, that the New Englanders abandoned the whaling to foreigners. The interest our antiquarians have in whaling is therefore a sound one. It was a manifestation of the pioneer mentality; and when that mentality was directed into other channels, whaling lost prestige and became as prosaic as cod-fishing in modern times.
It might be mentioned here that the two instincts of civilized man--to make a sport of his necessities, and then by quantity production in factories to divorce all sport from his necessities--have been spectacularly illustrated in the evolution of whaling from a sport for heroes into a humdrum manifestation of big business. Efficiency has never been so swiftly or so deplorably justified. At one end of the scale we have Captain Ahab devoting all his life to the pursuit of a mythological cetacean, the White Whale. At the other, in 1932, we have British and Scandinavian whaling factories, twin screw, oil-burning vessels of 14,000 tons, capable of pursuing whales of all species in high speed motor whaleboats fitted with guns and bombs, with air pumps which inflate the dead whale so that it will float until needed. These ships have a specially designed stern slipway, up which the entire carcase of a 100 ton whale can be hauled from the water to the blubber deck. When the blubber has been removed the carcase is sawn by machinery into sections and lowered to the meat deck. Nothing of the animal is wasted. A packing factory on board cans and packs the products ready for discharging at a convenient port into freight steamers. Fuel-oil and water, which is distilled on board, supplies a whole fleet of auxiliary whaling vessels.
Here we behold the modern commercial and mechanical genius at its peak. It is so efficient that unless some legislative action is taken, whales will become extinct. In two years these vessels have obtained more oil and have killed more whales than the old American whalers took from the sea in half a century.
It is true, as a recent author contends, that whaling is not properly described as fishing. The whale is an animal, and his pursuit is a form of hunting. In Gordon Grant’s drawings the whole art and craft of catching whales is most lucidly and dramatically set forth. It is sport because the hunters risked their lives when the harpoon left the boatsteerer’s hands to plunge into the whale’s carcase. They were in the most dire peril of a “stove” or a “chawed” boat until the animal’s terrific struggles were ended by the thrust of a lance through his vitals. In modern whaling the operatives are in no more danger than the person who slits the jugular veins of the hogs suspended by their hind legs on a moving chain in a Chicago abattoir. I doubt exceedingly whether these modern whalers will ever have any songs or traditions. All too soon they will, as I understand it, have no more whales. They will have become history themselves without ever having become known to the public. If by chance the captain of the _Vikingen_, of the Viking Whaling Company, Limited, of London, ever meets Moby Dick, he will order full speed ahead on his 4300 horsepower and overhaul the White Whale in a few hours. A few days later he will be in sealed cans.
Ships, and especially sailing craft, are the unhappy victims of artists who know more about pretty pictures than ships. They take quite felonious liberties with the craft and the men they depict. In “Greasy Luck” however, you will find the most austere fidelity to the truth combined with what to me is a most satisfying vivacity of presentation. I commend to your notice the lowered whaleboat on page 59 as an example of what I mean. Such a boat was an instrument to which men entrusted their lives and fortunes. It was the product of deep thought and shrewd designing for a century. It was, as one writer says, “sharp and clean-cut as a dolphin” with “a duck-like capacity to top the oncoming waves, so that it will dryly ride where ordinary boats would fill.... Here we have a boat that two men may lift, and which will make ten miles an hour in dead chase by the oars alone.” Such a craft has a beauty of its own, not to be found in pleasure craft. The same boat is shown at a dramatic moment of “A Nantucket Sleigh Ride” on page 75.
It appears to me that Mr. Grant has made a definitive and conclusive contribution to Whaliana. If the whales go the way of the buffalo of North America, we shall depend on this book for a lively conception of the ancient sport. Ships and wild animals, it has been remarked, have a hard and tragic ending. This book will preserve for posterity the spiritual as well as the material glories of the whaler’s life.
[Illustration: William McFee’s signature]
_LIST OF PLATES_
Under Sail _Frontispiece_
Fitting Out _Facing Page_ 2
Hoisting Topsails 4
Choosing Boats’ Crews 6
A Harangue from the Captain 8
Getting in the Mainsail 10
Stowing the Outer Jib 12
A Typical Bow 14
A Typical Stern 16
The Deck 18
The Whaleboat 20
A Boat on the Cranes 22
Spare Boats 24
Harpoons 26
The Wheel 28
The Foc’s’le 30
The Windlass 32
The Galley 34
Types 36
The Blacksmith 38
The Cooper 40
Grinding Spades 42
Coiling Line Tubs 44
Ten Dollars Reward 46
Grub 48
Fresh Fish for the Cook to Spoil 50
Whales 52
Whales 54
The Masthead 56
Lowering 58
A Race Under Sail 60
Waifing 62
“Going On” 64
“Give it to him!” 66
Sounding 68
A Breach 70
A “Chawed” Boat 72
“A Nantucket Sleigh Ride” 74
Lancing 76
Towing to the Ship 78
Cutting-in Diagram 80
Removing the Lower Jaw 82
The Junk 84
Cutting In 86
The Blanket Piece Coming Aboard 88
Lowering into the Hold 90
Mincing 92
Trying Out 94
Bailing the Case 96
Cleaning Ship 98
Main Hatch Surgery 100
Boat Surgery 102
Ashore for Water 104
Having it Out 106
Recruiting on the Beach 108
A “Gam” 110
Song and Dance 112
Bumboats 114
Arctic Whaling 116
Whalebone 118
Cleaning Whalebone 120
Dead Man’s Chest 122
Homeward Bound 124
“Scrimshaw” 126
_SKETCHES_
_FITTING OUT_
The last few days prior to a ship’s departure on a whaling voyage witnessed great activity along the wharves of all whaling ports: New Bedford, Fairhaven, Nantucket, Sag Harbor, Salem, and New London, to note but a few in New England; in Dundee, Scotland, and Bergen in Norway.
With the prospect of a voyage lasting perhaps three years, no item of gear for the ship or provision for the crew was overlooked.
On sailing day, with everything checked off and stowed below, the crew came aboard, the owners, their wives, and the townspeople crowded the wharf to cheer them on their way and wish them “Greasy Luck.”
[Illustration]
_HOISTING TOPSAILS_
The work of the merchant ship sailor had but one object; to take the ship by the shortest route from port to port. The whaleman, on the other hand, in addition to his seamanship, was expert in the highly technical work of killing whales.
While the whaling skippers lacked the smartness of the clipper captains they were able, keen, and resourceful in emergencies that the merchant ship masters seldom, if ever, were called upon to face.
[Illustration]
_CHOOSING BOATS’ CREWS_
Soon after the ship was on her course the crew was mustered and divided into two watches--starboard and larboard--(the word “port” was not used in whaleships). This done, the boats’ crews were chosen, consisting of an officer, harpooneer, and four men. The mates in turn took their pick of the men for their respective boats, subjected their choice to questions regarding former ships and experience, and an inspection of hands, feet, and muscular development--much like farmers at a cattle show.
The harpooneers were called “boatsteerers,” which, to the landsman, is somewhat misleading.
The mate steered the boat until the harpooneer struck the whale. They thereupon changed places and the latter became “boatsteerer.”
The boatsteerers ranked next to the officers,--were quartered aft, and had a separate mess.
[Illustration]
_A HARANGUE FROM THE CAPTAIN_
The watches and boats’ crews chosen, the captain called for attention and delivered himself of a speech. The gist of his message did not vary much from that of all other whaling skippers and his delivery was more or less colourful according to his ability as an orator.
Running his eye from man to man, so that none escaped the implied meaning behind the glance, he would voice his thoughts substantially as follows:--“This ship is a whaler and we’re out to kill whales. I tell you that now in case you might think you’re aboard a yacht and came along for a picnic. I’m captain and these are my officers, and when an order is given I want to see some jumping. I don’t want any loafers or grumblers. Loafers and grumblers only make trouble for themselves, and if any of you want trouble I’ll see that you damned well get it. You’ll get good food and all you need--so I don’t want to hear any growling about that. I won’t have any fighting or swearing. The sooner you fill the ship the sooner you’ll get home:--and remember; there’s only one captain aboard here and that’s me. If anyone wants to dispute that I’ll damned soon show him. That’ll do----”
[Illustration]
_GETTING IN THE MAINSAIL_
To the watch, bending over the yard with nought between them and oblivion but a slender foot rope, this was no easy task even in a moderate wind. In a gale, with wet or frozen sails, the stowing of this huge expanse of thrashing canvas can be better imagined than described.
[Illustration]
_STOWING THE OUTER JIB_
[Illustration]
_A TYPICAL BOW_
Here we have the bows of the barque “California” of New Bedford, built in the early eighteen forties.
Square-rigged whaling craft varied in size from two hundred and fifty to four hundred tons, seldom exceeding the latter figure.
Many were painted “frigate fashion” with black ports along the side--a relic of the days when merchant ships used this device to deceive pirates into the belief that they were heavily armed.
The whaler had a beauty peculiarly her own. She was rather a tubby little thing, but with much grace notwithstanding. She was held in supreme contempt by the officers and crews of her contemporaneous big sisters the flash clippers, who referred to her as “spouter” and “butcher shop.”
[Illustration]
_A TYPICAL STERN_
Unlike merchant ships, whalers had to keep their forward deck clear so that all space could be devoted to the “cutting in” and “trying out” of blubber.
The forward deck-house, characteristic of cargo carriers, which contained the gallery and crew’s quarters, was moved far aft--half to starboard--half to larboard--with a deck overhead from which the quarter-boats were lowered.
The stern shown is that of “Lagoda,” a half size model of which has been installed in the Whaling Museum in New Bedford.
[Illustration]
_THE DECK_
This diagram shows the deck arrangement of “Lagoda” of New Bedford and was characteristic of all square-rigged whalers.
A--B--C--D--E--Boats hanging on the davits. Many ships did not swing a boat in the position of “B.”
In their order the boats were named as follows:--“Bow”--“Starboard Bow”--“Waist”--“Larboard”--“Starboard.” The latter was known as the captain’s boat, though in later years the captain did not leave the ship.
The first mate had the larboard boat--second mate the waist--third mate the bow.
The senior boatsteerer took the starboard bow boat unless the ship carried a fourth mate.
F--Spare boats on the skids--or boat bridge.
G--The main hatch.
H--The try works.
J--The steering wheel.--To left of the wheel, the companion stairs to captain’s quarters.
K--The galley.
L--The “cutting-in” stage. At this point a section of the bulwarks was removed during cutting in.
M--The foc’s’le hatch leading to crew’s quarters below.
N--The windlass.
[Illustration]
_The Whaleboat_
Boats varied from 28 to 30 feet in length, with a beam of 5-1/2 to 6 feet.
A--Bow showing the “chocks,” a channel in the stem through which the whale line ran. This was fitted with a bronze roller--or lined with sheet lead.
Through a hole across the chocks a slender spindle of wood was inserted--to be easily broken should necessity arise.
This “chock pin” kept the line from jumping out of its groove,--and was, moreover, when worn in the buttonhole ashore, the badge of the whaleman who had killed his whale.
B--Main line tub--containing 225 fathoms of whale line.
C--Reserve tub--holding from 75 to 125 fathoms.
D--Loggerhead--a heavy snubbing post around which the whale line ran from the tub and thence forward to the bow.
E--Mast step.
F--Padded notch in the edge of the forward box into which the harpooneer braced his thigh when darting his irons.
L--Centreboard.
Except when under sail the boat was propelled by five oars, and in order to balance the power from this unequal number, oars of different lengths were used.
G--Harpoon oar 16 feet long
H--Bow oar 17 “ “
I--Midship oar 18 “ “
J--Tub oar 17 “ “
K--After or stroke oar 16 “ “
Except when under sail the boat was steered by means of an oar over twenty feet long.
The complete equipment of a boat included paddles, harpoons, lances, spades, mast and sail, water and bread kegs, lantern, flares and waifs, and other small gear.
[Illustration]
_A BOAT ON THE CRANES_
The whaleboat was so lightly constructed that had it been allowed to hang by the hoisting tackle or “falls,” there was danger of it “hogging” or breaking its back.
To obviate this “supporters” were provided to sustain part of the weight. These “cranes” were hinged and were swung in when the boats were lowered.
After a boat was hoisted, the tubs were removed in order to further lighten her.
The tubs were kept on a rack abreast of the boat, inboard, and the preparatory order before lowering was “Get your tubs aboard.”
[Illustration]
_SPARE BOATS_
Two spare boats were carried thus on the skids, and were brought into use when one or more of the others were “stove” or destroyed.
Under these spares were racks on which cutting spades and such gear were stowed.
This view is looking forward from the deck over the wheel.
[Illustration]
_HARPOONS_
The purpose of the harpoon was not to kill the whale but to be a means of “getting fast” with the whale line.
The killing was done with the lance--a long shanked instrument with a small razor-sharp tip.
From earliest times the whaleman had endeavoured to fashion a harpoon that would not “draw” or pull out. Many variations had been tried of the solid head type of “iron,” but they all gave way before the “toggle” iron, invented by a Negro named Lewis Temple in 1848.
The sketch shows only the principal types--and the large variety of bombs and bomb guns has been omitted; they savour too much of modern methods and wholesale slaughter.
A--Two flued iron.
B--Single flued iron.
C--Temple’s toggle iron.
D--Modern toggle iron.
In the toggles a wooden match-like pin was inserted through the head of the harpoon to hold it straight. This broke as soon as pull was exerted on the line and the head turned as shown in fig. E.
F--An effective darting gun used against Right and Bowhead whales. A short gun barrel was mounted on the end of the pole. On one side of this was inserted a harpoon attached to the line. Reaching half way to the point was a rod, which on coming in contact with the skin of the whale, exploded the charge in the chamber and discharged a bomb. The whole instrument was thrown in the same manner as a harpoon, the gun-pole being retrieved by a line attached to the boat, the iron remaining in the whale.
Except in the case of lone bulls, guns were of no use among sperm whales; the discharge scared the herd--or as the whaleman said, “gallied the pod.”
G--An English double flued iron with “stop withers.”
H--The Greener gun--used by Dundee whalers in the Arctic.
J--The harpoon--with slot and travelling ring--fired from the Greener gun.
[Illustration]
_THE WHEEL_
This type of steering wheel known as “shin cracker” was peculiar to the Yankee whaleships. The wheel was mounted on the tiller and the helm was moved by means of tackle which ran around the drum, through sheaves and blocks to the bulwarks. Consequently, when the steersman turned the wheel he walked back and forward with it across the deck.
In the deck over him there was a small hatch through which he could watch the sails.
[Illustration]
_THE FOC’S’LE_
The foc’s’le was reached by a hatch, forward of the mainmast, which also served as the only inlet for daylight and fresh air.
In some cases the ceiling was so low that any man above average height could not stand upright. In heavy weather the deck was never dry, due to leaky hawse pipes and dripping oilskins, and in the tropics it was a furnace. Altogether, the combined odours of unwashed bodies, unwashed clothes, bilge water, tobacco and oil lanterns, made it a noisome habitation.
The men’s bunks were ranged in a double tier along the sides and their sea chests, lashed to the deck, served as benches.
[Illustration]
_THE WINDLASS_
This ancient contrivance known as a log windlass was only a slight improvement over its predecessor in which the barrel was laboriously turned by wooden bars or “handspikes” inserted in holes.
In the one shown a ratchet mechanism was added, and when weighing anchor or cutting in a whale, four or five men on each side pumped the brake handles up and down.
One has but to compare this heartbreaking relic to the modern steam or electric winch to appreciate the truth of the captain’s allusion to a yachting cruise.
[Illustration]
_THE GALLEY_
Here the cook, or “doctor” as he was called, prepared the food for officers and crew. The galley was located aft on the starboard side, abreast of the wheel, where the steersman might get an occasional cup of coffee from the cook to ease his trick at the wheel.
How different to the case of the man at the wheel in merchant ships, stamping his feet and blowing on his fingers in the roaring forties, and looking with wistful eyes towards the galley at the far end of the deck.
[Illustration]
_TYPES_
The crews of Yankee whalers up to, and including, the fifties were made up mostly of Americans drawn from the neighbourhood of the ships’ home port.
As the great West opened up, the movement overland diverted the native American from the sea, and in the declining years of the industry crews were composed mainly of Portuguese, Negroes, and Bravas from the Cape Verde Islands.
Whaling crews were not paid wages but were given a “lay,” or share in the profits at the end of the voyage.
The lay scale was graded down from 1/16th for the captain to 1/200th for a green hand--and even less to the cabin boy.
At the end of a long voyage, when the ship was credited with oil valued at $250,000, or more, the sailors’ share was quite worth while.
[Illustration]
_THE BLACKSMITH_
The blacksmith’s duties lay in the care of all the harpoons, spades, lances, boarding and mincing knives, and kindred gear.
When whales were being killed and brought alongside he was a busy man, straightening and repairing irons, and keeping the cutting-in stage supplied with keen-edged spades.
[Illustration]
_THE COOPER_
When a whaleship set out on a voyage she was loaded from keel to deck with casks of various sizes, from the largest, of fourteen barrel capacity, to long, narrow ones, known as “ryers,” used to fill empty spaces and odd corners. Many of them were filled with fresh water to serve as ballast, and all the spare sails, food, clothing (slops) and other reserve articles were headed up in casks.
In due course they were emptied and filled with oil, and the cooper’s task was to keep them in good condition, and, if need arose, to construct new ones from the staves, heads and hoops which he had in reserve.
The term “barrel” was only used as a unit of measure:--a cask was spoken of as an eight barrel cask or a whale’s size was reckoned in so many barrels.
An average whaler carried in the neighbourhood of five hundred casks of all sizes, and the keeping of them in serviceable condition involved constant watchfulness and work on the cooper’s part.
[Illustration]
_GRINDING SPADES_
No one was busier than the ship’s boy. Helping the steward in the pantry, turning the grindstone, peeling potatoes for the cook, or running aloft to tie stops in the buntlines, he was kept hopping from one job to another.
He doubtless found ere long that whaling was not as romantic a pursuit as he had dreamed it to be, and cried himself to sleep in homesickness many times before the end of the voyage.
[Illustration]
_COILING LINE TUBS_
The coiling of the whale line in the boats’ tubs was a matter demanding extreme care, as not only did the catching of whales depend on the line, but improper coiling might produce sudden kinks and fouling, to result in the maiming or killing of one or more of the crew, or even the loss of the boat itself.
Whale line was made of “long manila fibre” and was three quarters of an inch in diameter. Even when new it was as pliable as an old shoe lace and capable of sustaining a weight of three tons.