Dana, Richard Henry, 1815-1882; Sailors; Seafaring life; Voyages and travels
The calm of the morning reminds me of a scene which I forgot to
describe at the time of its occurrence, but which I remember from its
being the first time that I had heard the near breathing of whales. It
was on the night that we passed between the Falkland Islands and Staten
Land. We had the watch from twelve to four, and coming upon deck,
found the little brig lying perfectly still, surrounded by a thick fog,
and the sea as smooth as though oil had been poured upon it; yet now
and then a long, low swell rolling over its surface, slightly lifting
the vessel, but without breaking the glassy smoothness of the water. We
were surrounded far and near by shoals of sluggish whales and
grampuses; which the fog prevented our seeing, rising slowly to the
surface, or perhaps lying out at length, heaving out those peculiar
lazy, deep, and long-drawn breathings which give such an impression of
supineness and strength. Some of the watch were asleep, and the others
were perfectly still, so that there was nothing to break the illusion,
and I stood leaning over the bulwarks, listening to the slow breathing
of the mighty creatures--now one breaking the water just alongside,
whose black body I almost fancied that I could see through the fog; and
again another, which I could just hear in the distance--until the low
and regular swell seemed like the heaving of the ocean's mighty bosom
to the sound of its heavy and long-drawn respirations.
Towards the evening of this day, (Friday 7th,) the fog cleared off, and
we had every appearance of a cold blow; and soon after sun-down it came
on. Again it was clew up and haul down, reef and furl, until we had
got her down to close-reefed topsails, double-reefed trysail, and
reefed forespenser. Snow, hail, and sleet were driving upon us most of
the night, and the sea was breaking over the bows and covering the
forward part of the little vessel; but as she would lay her course the
captain refused to heave her to.
Saturday, Nov. 8th. This day commenced with calm and thick fog, and
ended with hail, snow, a violent wind, and close-reefed topsails.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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