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
The "case" having been stripped of its oleaginous treasures, was cut
adrift, and the Arethusa, with the yards again trimmed to the breeze,
stood on her course to the southward. The "junk" was then cut up and
thrown into casks, to save all the oil that was continually oozing from
it, and the fires were started for boiling. "Try-watches" were set at
night, by dividing the time into two equal portions, each watch taking
the whole five or six hours on one stretch. The Portuguese Manoel and
myself were appointed to work in the blubber-room, which is, perhaps,
the best station in trying out, as the fortunate incumbent has but one
department to attend to, and being under deck, is not exposed to the
weather. Besides, he is much of the time "out of sight out of mind,"
and, by cutting fast for an hour or two, may gain upon his work so as
to find time for "slants" of sleep or "catnaps," so termed, till roused
again by the cry of "horsepieces!" at the hatchway. Now and then,
Father Grafton, in going the rounds, would stoop over the hatchway, and
peer in between decks, with a call to the sleepers:
"Halloo, Blacksmith! Manoel, what are you doing away in there?"
"_Leaning_, sir!" would be the ready reply of the Portuguese; which was
strictly true. He was "leaning" against a cask, sound asleep.
A whaleship trying out at night presents one of the most weird and
striking pictures that can well be imagined. But to enjoy it in full,
the observer must take his station near the mainmast, looking forward,
and this during his watch below, as his duties would otherwise subject
him to certain interruptions which sadly mar the poetry of the thing.
Alone, on the face of the waters, rides your floating home; the
darkness around her intensified and rendered more opaque by the glare
of light from the try-fires, and utterly impervious on the lee-beam
and quarter from the thick clouds of smoke continually floating off
in that direction. The brawny forms of the boatsteerers, thrown into
strong relief in the centre group, as they tend the fires and the
seething caldrons, which require their constant care and attention to
ensure a fine quality of oil; the "mincer" on the left, industriously
flourishing his broad, keen knife in the firelight; the cooper, fudging
at a leaky cask, half hidden in darkness under the lee of the "cooler;"
the deckhands flitting about at their various duties, appearing and
vanishing in gloom, like spirits dancing in an ever-changing light,
now livid, now lurid; now dying away till the smoke pall seems almost
to envelop the whole picture, then suddenly bursting forth again
with startling brightness, as the boatsteerer throws a fresh greasy
scrap on the "back arches," and runs his long pike under the fires
to stir up "Old Hallett;" the brilliant glare upon the rigging and
sails of the foremast, seeming to reveal each lay of the cordage,
each thread of the canvas, with a fidelity and minuteness of detail
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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