South American Fights and Fighters, and Other Tales of Adventure Read online

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  PART II

  OTHER TALES OF ADVENTURE

  I

  The Yarn of the _Essex_, Whaler

  Among marine disasters there is none more extraordinary in character ormore appalling in consequence, than the loss of the whaleship _Essex_.

  The _Essex_ was a well-found whaler of two hundred and thirty-eighttons. James Pollard was her captain, with Owen Chase and Matthew Joyas mates. Six of her complement of twenty were Negroes. Thoroughlyoverhauled and provisioned for two and one-half years, on the 17th ofAugust, 1819, she took her departure from Nantucket. On the 17th ofJanuary, 1820, she reached St. Mary's Island, off the coast of Chili,near Conception, a noted whaling ground.

  They cruised off these coasts for some time, being lucky enough to takeseveral large whales, and finally, the season being over, having aboutone thousand barrels of oil in the hold, they struck boldly westward.On the 16th of November, being a few minutes south of the line in Long.118 degrees W., a school of sperm whales was sighted, and three boatswere lowered in chase.

  Chase, the mate--the first mate is always the mate _parexcellence_--soon got fast to a huge bull-whale who, when he felt thedeadly harpoon in his vitals, swiftly turned and struck the whale-boata terrific blow with his tail, smashing it into kindling wood andhurling the men in every direction. After that {232} splendidexhibition of power, he got away scot-free save for the rankling ironand the dangling line which he took with him. The boat's crew werepicked up, no one being much the worse for the encounter, strange tosay, and were brought back to the ship by the other boats.

  On the 20th of November, being then just about 40 minutes south of theequator, and in Long. 119 degrees W., at eight o'clock in the morningthe lookout at the masthead shouted the welcome signal:

  "There she blows!"

  It was evident that they were in the presence of a large school. Theship was headed toward them, and when within half a mile the mainyardwas backed, and three boats, under the charge of the captain and thefirst and second mates, respectively, were lowered. Their only otherboat was a spare one, lashed amidships on chocks.

  Arriving at the spot where they had been sighted at the ship, the mendiscovered that the whales had sounded and vanished. The boats,thereupon, separated widely, and the men lay on their oars and waited.Presently a great bull rose lazily, spouting in front of the mate'sboat, and lay idly wallowing in the tumbling sea. Approachingcautiously, the harpooneer drove in the terrible weapon.

  In his agony, the great cetacean, instead of sounding, threw himselfblindly toward the boat. So close were they, and so unexpected was thewhale's movement in spite of his vast bulk, that, although the order,"Stern all!" had been promptly given, they were unable to win clear ofhim. The tip of his massive tail, as he thrashed about in his rage,struck the side of the light, clinker-built boat and smashed a hole init. Then the whale started to run, towing the boat, which {233}immediately began to fill with water under the terrible drag to whichit was subjected. There was nothing to do but cut the line. Two orthree jackets were stuffed into the aperture, and while some bailed,the others rowed back to the ship. The captain's and second mate'sboats, meanwhile, were seeking the school, which had risen and wasswimming away from the ship.

  As soon as the wrecked boat was run up to the davits, the mate swungthe mainyard and got under way, following the other boats. He firstdetermined to break out the spare boat, but after investigating thedamaged boat, he concluded that he could save time by nailing a patchof canvas over the broken place, which would serve temporarily to keepout the water, in case they went in search of another whale in her.While he was about this, an immense sperm-whale, about eighty-five feetlong, "breached"--that is, coming from a great depth, he shot out ofthe water his whole length and then fell back with a tremendoussplash--about fifty fathoms from the ship. After he fell back, hespouted three or four times, sounded, and once more appeared, this timeabout a ship's length off the weather bow of the Essex. Evidently, itwas the whale they had just struck. He was angry, and he meantbusiness, for as soon as he came to the surface he started for the ship.

  Under the light air the vessel was making about three knots. The whalewas going at the same speed. The mate saw at once that if he did notchange his course, the whale would strike his ship. Dropping thehammer, he shouted to the boy at the helm to put it hard up, andhimself sprang across the deck to reenforce his order. The unwieldyship paid off slowly, {234} and before her head had been fairly turnedto leeward the whale deliberately rammed her right under the forechains.

  The concussion was terrible. The ship came to a dead stop, as if shehad run upon a rock, while the whale bumped along under the keel. Someof those aboard were thrown to the deck. The masts quivered andbuckled under the shock, but fortunately nothing was carried away. Theonset was so unexpected that the men were dazed for a moment. When themate recovered his wits, he immediately sounded the well, and foundthat the ship was leaking badly. He then ordered the men to the pumps,and set signals for the recall of the boats, each of which had got fastto a whale.

  "The Ship Came to a Dead Stop"]

  In spite of all they could do, the ship began settling rapidly by thehead. She was badly stove in, and making water fast. While some ofthe men toiled at the pumps, others cleared away the extra boat. Therewas no longer time to repair the other. At this juncture one of themen discovered the same whale about two hundred and fifty fathoms toleeward. He was in a fit of convulsive rage terrible to look upon;leaping, turning, writhing, threshing about in the water, beating itwith his mighty tail and great flukes, thundering upon it with all hisforce, and all the while opening and shutting his enormous jaws,"smiting them together," in the words of the mate, as if distractedwith wrath and fury.

  There was no time to watch the whale in the exigency of their peril,and observing him start out with great velocity to cross the bows ofthe ship to leeward, the men turned their attention to the more seriousduty at the pumps and the boat. But a few moments had {235} elapsed,when another man forward observed the whale again.

  "The Killing of Alexander Hamilton by Aaron Burr, atWeehawken, New Jersey, July 11, 1804"]

  "Here he is!" he shouted. "He's making for us again."

  The great cachalot was now directly ahead, about two hundred fathomsaway, and coming down upon them with twice his ordinary speed. Thesurf flew in all directions about him. "His course was marked by awhite foam a rod in width which he made with the continual thrashing ofthis tail." His huge head, boneless but almost as solid and as hard asthe inside of a horse's hoof, most admirably designed for abattering-ram, was almost half out of the water. The mate made onedesperate attempt to get out of his way. Again the helm was put up andthe men ran to the braces, but the water-laden ship, already well downby the head, and more sluggish than ever, had fallen off only one pointwhen the whale leaped upon her with demoniac energy, and--so itappeared to the seamen--rammed her with maleficent passion.

  This time he struck the ship just under the weather cathead. He wasgoing not less than six knots an hour to the ship's three, and theforce of the blow completely stove in the bows of the _Essex_. Thoseon board could feel the huge bulk scraping along beneath the keel asecond time, and then, having done all the damage he could, he wenthurtling off to windward. He had exacted a complete revenge for theirattack upon him.

  Working with the energy of despair, for the ship seemed literallysinking under their feet, the men succeeded in clearing away the spareboat and launching it. The steward saved two quadrants, two Bowditch's"Practical Navigators," the captain's chest and that {236} of the firstmate, with two compasses which the mate had snatched from the binnacle.They shoved off, but had scarcely made two lengths from the ship whenshe fell over to windward and settled low in the water on herbeam-ends, a total wreck.

  The captain and second mate, seeing the signal for the recall of theboats flying, had cut loose from their whales and were rowing towardthe ship. They knew somethin
g had happened, but what it was, theycould not tell. The captain's boat was the first to reach the mate's.He stopped close by, so completely overpowered that for a space hecould not utter a syllable.

  "My God! Mr. Chase," he gasped out at last; "what is the matter?"

  "We have been stove in by a whale, sir," said the mate, telling thewhole appalling story.

  By the captain's direction, the boats rowed to the sinking ship, andwith their hatchets the men managed to cut away the masts, whereuponshe rose two-thirds of the way to an even keel. They scuttled thedeck--chopped holes through her, that is--and succeeded in coming atsome six hundred pounds of unspoiled hard bread, which they dividedamong the three boats, and sufficient fresh water to give each boatsixty-five gallons in small breakers--being all they dared to take ineach one. They also procured a musket, two pistols, some powder andbullets, some tools and six live turtles. From the light spars of theship they rigged two masts for each boat and with the light canvasprovided each one with two spritsails and a jib. They also got somelight cedar planking used to repair the boats, and with it built thegunwales up six inches all around.

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  On the 22nd of November, being then in 120 W. Long., and just north ofthe equator, the officers took counsel together as to what to do. Thenearest lands were the Marquesas Islands, fifteen hundred miles away;the Society Islands, twenty-four hundred miles away, and the SandwichIslands, three thousand miles away. They knew little about the firsttwo groups, save that they were inhabited by fierce and treacheroussavages from whom they had as much to fear as from the perils of thesea. The Sandwich Islands were too far away, and they would be apt tomeet hurricanes, prevalent at that season, should they attempt to reachthem. After a long deliberation they decided to take advantage of thesoutheast trades by sailing by the wind until they reached thetwenty-fifth parallel of south latitude. Then falling in with westerlyand variable winds, they could turn east and run for the coast of Chilior Peru. This course involved the longest voyage, but it also promisedthe greatest chance for success.

  Sometimes they made good progress with favorable winds. At other timesthey lay immobile in the blazing tropic sunlight which was almostunbearable. Often they were buffeted by fierce squalls or wild storms,especially as they left the equator. Only the important incidents oftheir unparalleled voyage can be dwelt upon. Most of the eventsmentioned happened in the mate's boat, but the experience of the boatepitomes that of the others.

  The mate's boat was the smallest. He was allotted five men. The othertwo boats each contained one more man. The men were put on anallowance of one sea-biscuit, weighing about one pound and a quarter,and a pint of water a day. In the mate's boat the provisions were keptin his chest, which he {238} locked. The men behaved in the mostexemplary manner. In only one instance did any one ever attempt tosteal provisions. They ran into a storm on the 24th, which wet some oftheir biscuit, and as it was necessary to get rid of the damaged breadas soon as possible, the daily allowance was taken from the spoiledportion exclusively. The soaked biscuit were very salt and greatlyincreased their thirst.

  During the long and exhausting voyage, a plank started in the mate'sboat, and it was with difficulty that they heeled it over in the water,at the risk of their lives, to get to the place and nail it up. Onenight the captain's boat was attacked by a species of fish known as a"killer" (Orca), and its bows were stove in. This also they managed topatch up. On December 3rd, they ate the last of the spoiled saltbread, and their relief when they began on the other was amazing.Their thirst was terrible, especially as it became necessary to cut theallowance of food and water in half. They tried from time to time tocatch rain water by means of the sails, but the canvas had been sooften drenched by the spray that the water they caught was as salt asthe sea.

  One day they caught half a dozen flying fish, which they ate raw. Mr.Chase remarks on the delicacy and daintiness of the mouthfuls whichthese little fish afforded the starving mariners. They fished fordolphins and porpoises, but they never caught any, perhaps because theyhad nothing with which to bait the hooks. One day, seeking toalleviate the pangs of thirst by wetting their bodies, three of the mendropped into the water alongside and clung to the gunwale. One of themdiscovered that the boat's bottom was covered with barnacles. Theywere {239} ravenously devoured, but proved of little value as food.The men in the water were so weak that had it not been for the effortsof three who had remained in the boat, sceptical as to the utility ofthe bath, they would never have been able to regain their positions.During all these experiences, discipline was maintained--indeed, it wasmaintained to the very last.

  On the 15th of December, they reached Ducie Island, in Long. 124degrees 40 minutes W., Lat. 24 degrees 40 minutes S., having come someseventeen hundred miles in twenty-three days in these open boats. Theylanded on the island and found a few shell-fish, birds, and a speciesof pepper-grass, but no water. The famished men soon consumedeverything eatable they could come at on the island. They hunted highand low, but it was not until the 22nd that they found a spring ofwater. The island was almost desolate. Nothing was to be gained byremaining there, so the majority concluded to sail for Easter Island,some nine hundred miles southward. Three men decided to stay on theisland. They all spent a melancholy Christmas there, repairing theirboats and filling their water-breakers, and on the 27th the others tooktheir departure.

  On the 14th of January, 1821, they found that they had been driven tothe south of Easter Island, and that it was not practicable to beat upto it. They therefore determined to head for Juan Fernandez--RobinsonCrusoe's Island--some two thousand miles southeastward. On the 10th,the second mate, Matthew Joy, died from exposure, and was buried thenext morning. On the 12th in the midst of a terrible storm, the boatsseparated.

  First we will follow the course of the mate's boat. {240} On the 20th,Peterson, a black man, died and was buried. On the 8th of February,Isaac Cole, a white seaman, died. The men on the boat were by thistime in a frightful condition, weak and emaciated to the last degree.Their provisions were almost gone. But two biscuit to a man remained.They were still over a thousand miles from land. They came to afearful determination. The body of Cole was not buried. They lived onhim from the 9th to the 14th. On the 15th and 16th, they consumed thelast vestige of their biscuit.

  On the 17th, driving along at the mercy of wind and wave, for there wasnot a man strong enough to do anything, they caught sight of the Islandof Massafuera. They were helpless to bring the boat near to theIsland. Whale-boats were steered by an oar. There was not a singleman able to lift an oar. In addition to starvation, thirst, weakness,mental anguish, their legs began to swell with a sort of scurvy, givingthem excessive pain. Their condition can scarcely be imagined. Thebreath of life was there, nothing more.

  However, they had at last reached the end of their sufferings, for onthe morning of the 19th of February, 1821, in Lat. 35 degrees 45minutes S., Long. 81 degrees 03 minutes W., the three surviving menwere picked up by the brig _Indian_, of London, Captain WilliamCrozier. On the 25th of February, they arrived at Valparaiso,ninety-six days and nearly four thousand miles from the sinking of theship!

  The other two boats managed to keep together for a little while afterthey lost sight of the mate's boat. On the 14th of February,provisions in the second mate's boat gave out entirely. On the 15th,Lawson Thomas, a black man, died in that boat and was eaten. {241} Thecaptain's boat ran out of provisions on the 21st. On the 23rd CharlesShorter, another Negro, died in the second mate's boat and was sharedbetween the two boats. On the 27th another black man died from thesame boat, furnishing a further meal for the survivors. On the 28th,Samuel Reed, the last black man, died in the captain's boat and waseaten like the rest. Singular that all the Negroes died first!

  On the 29th, in a storm, these two boats separated. When they partedthe second mate's boat had three living white men in her. Nothing wasever heard of her.

  It might be inferred from the fact that th
e surviving men had hadsomething to eat, that they were in fair physical condition. That isfar from the truth. The men who had died were nothing but skin andbone, and all that the survivors got from their ghastly meals was thebare prolongation of a life which sank steadily to a lower and lowerebb. We may not judge these people too harshly. Hunger and thirstmake men mad. They scarcely realized what they did.

  There was worse to come. On the 1st of February, 1821, being withoutfood or drink of any sort, the four men in the captain's boat cast lotsas to which should die for the others. There is something significantof a spirit of fair play and discipline, not without its admirablequality, that under such circumstances, the weaker were not overpoweredby the stronger, but that each man had an equal chance for life. Thelot fell upon Owen Coffin,[1] the captain's nephew. He did not repine.He expressed his willingness to abide {242} by the decision. No mandesired to be his executioner. They cast lots, as before, to determinewho should kill him, and the lot fell upon Charles Ramsdale. By himCoffin was shot.

  Thus they eked out a miserable existence until the 11th of February,when Barzilla Ray died. On the 23rd of February, the two remainingmen, the captain and Ramsdale, just on the point of casting lots as towhich should have the last poor chance for life, were picked up by theNantucket whaler, _Dauphin_, Captain Zimri Coffin. They had almostreached St. Mary's Island, ten miles from the coast of Chili. On the17th of March, these two survivors joined the three from the mate'sboat in Valparaiso.

  In the harbor was the United States frigate, _Constellation_, CaptainCharles G. Ridgeley, U. S. N. As soon as her commander heard of thethree left on Ducie Island, he arranged with Captain Thomas Raines, ofthe British merchant ship, _Surrey_, to touch at the island on hisvoyage to Australia and take off the men. Captain Raines found themstill alive, but reduced to the last gasp.

  Thus of the twenty men, five reached Valparaiso; three were saved onthe island, three were lost in the second mate's boat, two died andwere buried; six died and were eaten, and one was shot and eaten.

  So ends this strange tragedy of the sea.

  [1] A tradition still current in Nantucket has it that the lot fell tothe captain, whereupon his nephew, already near death, feeling that hecould not survive the afternoon, offered and insisted upon taking hisuncle's place. I doubt this.