There She Blows! Or, The Log of the ArethusaMacy, William Hussey
General
There She Blows! Or, The Log of the Arethusa
Macy, William Hussey
Sea stories; Whaling -- Fiction
At San Cristoval, one of the Solomon Islands, we drove a smart trade
for yams and fruit, the currency used here being hoop-iron, cut into
pieces a few inches long, like the money of the ancient Spartans in
the days of Lycurgus. Here, for the first time, we met with people
possessing the characteristic of the African, for there are two
great families of races in Polynesia. These Ethiops of the Pacific,
or Oceanic negroes as they are called, are even more repulsive in
appearance than the wearers of the ponderous nasal ornaments at Lord
Howe's group. Their hair, or wool, has the true African kink in it,
both ends seeming to grow into the skull, and is turned a dull reddish
color by the application of lime, or something of that nature, giving
them the appearance of having the head protected by what seamen call
a "thrummed mat." The teeth are colored or discolored by the use of
the betel-nut, till they are darker than their skins; in fact those
of men past middle age are jet black. But they seem well-disposed to
whites, and inoffensive, and our intercourse with them was marked by
no unpleasant occurrence. The canoes used by these people are very
light, and neatly ornamented, giving evidence of considerable taste
and skill in their construction, while the dexterity of the natives in
balancing and managing them seems perfectly miraculous, as they have no
beam to spare and no outriggers; yet they come off several miles to sea
in them, keeping their equilibrium seemingly without difficulty, and
jeered and shouted with true negro delight at our bungling attempts to
manage them.
We pressed through Indispensable Straits, continuing our running cruise
towards the coast of Australia, but without taking any more oil till we
reached the latitude of twenty-two degrees, being about midway between
Booby Shoal and Cato's Bank, when two large sperm whales were raised in
the morning, and down we went in pursuit. The waist boat got the lead
and was soon fast to one of them and her line going out of the tub at a
rate that promised soon to empty it. Seeing this state of things, our
line was cast off from the craft, and I stood ready to throw the end
into the other boat; but the second mate, anxious to "drown him out"
without bending on another line, snubbed him too hard and parted. We
pulled ahead in pursuit of the whale, but when he came up again he was
pushing to the windward much faster than any boat could pull. There was
nothing for us but to return to the ship and take the boats up, very
ill-satisfied with our forenoon's work, for we had lost an iron and
nearly a tubful of line, and had nothing to show for it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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