Part 4

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.”

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.

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.

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----”

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.

STOWING THE OUTER JIB

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.”

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.