Chapter III (2)

The head of the whale is avoided, because it cannot be penetrated with the harpoon; but any part of the body between the head and the tail will admit of the full length of the instrument, without danger of obstruction. The moment that the wounded whale disappears, or leaves the boat, a jack or flag, elevated on a staff, is displayed, on sight of which those on watch in the ship give the alarm, by stamping on the deck, accompanied by a simultaneous and continuous shout of “a fall.” This word, derived from the Dutch language, is expressive of the conduct of the sailors in jumping, dropping, falling to man the boats on an occasion requiring extreme dispatch. At this sound, the sleeping crew arouse, jump from their beds, rush upon deck, with their clothes tied by a string in their hands, and crowd into the boats. With a temperature of zero, should a “fall” occur, the crew would appear on deck, shielded only by their drawers, stockings, and shirts, or other habiliments in which they sleep. They generally contrive to dress themselves in part, at least, as the boats are lowered down, but sometimes they push off in the state in which they rise from their beds, row away towards the “fast-boat,” and have no opportunity of clothing themselves for a length of time afterwards. The alarm of “a fall” has a singular effect on the feelings of a sleeping person unaccustomed to the whale-fishing business. It has often been mistaken as a cry of distress. A landsman in a Hull ship, seeing the crew on an occasion of a fall rush upon deck, with their clothes in their hands, and leap into the boats, when there was no appearance of danger, thought the men were all mad; but with another individual the effect was totally different. Alarmed with the extraordinary noise, and still more so when he reached the deck with the appearance of all the crew seated in the boats in their shirts, he imagined the ship was sinking. He therefore endeavoured to get into a boat himself; but every one of them being fully manned, he was always repulsed. After several fruitless endeavours to gain a place among his comrades, he cried out, with feelings of evident distress, “What shall I do?—will none of you take me in?”

The first effort of a “fast-fish,” or whale that has been struck, is to escape from the boat by sinking under water. After this, it pursues its course directly downward, or reappears at a little distance, and swims with great celerity near the surface of the water towards any neighbouring ice among which it may obtain an imaginary shelter; or it returns instantly to the surface, and gives evidence of its agony by the most convulsive throes, in which its fins and tail are alternately displayed in the air and dashed into the water with tremendous violence. The former behaviour, however, that is, to dive towards the bottom of the sea, is so frequent in comparison of any other, that it may be considered as the general conduct of a “fast-fish.” A whale, struck near the edge of any large sheet of ice, and passing underneath it, will sometimes run the whole of the line out of one boat in the space of eight or ten minutes of time. To retard, therefore, as much as possible, the flight of the whale, and to secure the lines, it is usual for the harpooner to cast one, two, or more turns of the line round a kind of post, called a _bollard_, which is fixed within ten or twelve inches of the stern of the boat for the purpose. Such is the friction of the line, when running round the bollard, that it frequently envelopes the harpooner in smoke; and if the wood were not repeatedly wetted, would probably set fire to the boat.

During the capture of one whale, a groove is sometimes cut in the bollard, near an inch in depth, and were it not for a plate of brass, iron, or a block of lignum vitæ, which covers the top of the stern, where the line passes over, it is apprehended that the action of the line on the material of the boat would cut it down to the water’s edge in the course of one season of successful fishing. The approaching distress of a boat for want of line is indicated by the elevation of an oar in the way of a mast, to which is added a second, a third, or even a fourth, in proportion to the nature of the exigence. The utmost care and attention are requisite on the part of every person in the boat when the lines are running out, fatal consequences having been sometimes produced by the most trifling neglect. On my first voyage to the whale-fishery, such an accident occurred. A thousand fathoms of line were already out, and the fast-boat was forcibly pressed against the side of a piece of ice. The harpooner, in his anxiety to retard the flight of the whale, applied too many turns of the line round the bollard, which, getting entangled, drew the boat beneath the ice. Another boat providentially was at hand, into which the crew, including myself, who happened to be present, had just time to escape. The whale, with near two miles length of line, was, in consequence of the accident, lost.

When fish have been struck by myself, I have, on different occasions, estimated their rate of descent. For the first 300 fathoms, the average velocity was usually after the rate of eight to ten miles per hour. In one instance, the third line of 120 fathoms was run out in sixty-one seconds, that is, at the rate of 8·16 miles, or 7·18 nautical miles, per hour. The average stay under water of a wounded whale, which steadily descends after being struck, according to the most usual conduct of the animal, is about thirty minutes. The longest stay I ever observed was fifty-six minutes; but in shallow water I have been informed it has sometimes been known to remain an hour and a half at the bottom after being struck, and yet has returned to the surface alive. The greater the velocity, the more considerable the distance to which it descends, and the longer the time it remains under water, so much greater in proportion is the extent of exhaustion, and the consequent facility of accomplishing its capture. Immediately that it reappears, the assisting boats make for the place with their utmost speed, and as they reach it, each harpooner plunges his harpoon into its back, to the amount of three, four, or more, according to the size of the whale and the nature of the situation. Most frequently, however, it descends for a few minutes after receiving the second harpoon, and obliges the other boats to await its return to the surface before any attack can be made. It is afterwards actively plied with lances, which are thrust into its body, aiming at its vitals. At length, when exhausted by numerous wounds and the loss of blood, which flows from the huge animal in copious streams, it indicates the approach of its dissolution by discharging from its “blow-holes” a mixture of blood along with the air and mucus which it usually expires, and finally jets of blood. The sea to a great extent around is dyed with its blood, and the ice-boats and men are sometimes drenched with the same. Its track is likewise marked by a broad pellicle of oil, which exudes from his wounds, and appears on the surface of the sea. Its final capture is sometimes preceded by a convulsive and energetic struggle, in which its tail, reared, whirled, and violently jerked in the air, resounds to the distance of miles. In dying, it turns on its back, or on its side, which joyful circumstance is announced by the capturers with the striking of their flags, accompanied with three lively huzzas.

The remarkable exhaustion observed on the first appearance of a wounded whale at the surface, after a descent of 700 or 800 fathoms perpendicular, does not depend on the nature of the wound it has received, for a hundred superficial wounds received from harpoons could not have the effect of a single lance penetrating the vitals, but is the effect of the almost incredible pressure to which the animal must have been exposed. The surface of the body of a large whale may be considered as comprising an area of 1,540 square feet. This, under the common weight of the atmosphere alone, must sustain a pressure of 3,104,640 lbs., or 1,386 tons. But at the depth of 800 fathoms, where there is a column of water equal in weight to about 154 atmospheres, the pressure on the animal must be equal to 211,200 tons. This is a degree of pressure of which we can have but an imperfect conception. It may assist our comprehension, however, to be informed, that it exceeds in weight sixty of the largest ships of the British navy, when manned, provisioned, and fitted for a six months’ cruise.

By the motions of the fast-boat, the movements of the whale are estimated. Every fast-boat carries a flag, and the ship to which such boats belong also wears a flag, until the whale is either killed or makes its escape. These signals serve to indicate to surrounding ships the exclusive title of the fast-ship to the entangled whale, and to prevent their interference, excepting in the way of assistance in the capture.

With respect to the length of time requisite for capturing a whale, it may be remarked that this greatly depends on the activity of the harpooners, the favourableness of situation and weather, and on the peculiar conduct of the whale attacked. I have myself witnessed the capture of a large whale in twenty-eight minutes, and have also been engaged with another fish, which was lost, after it had been entangled about sixteen hours. Under the most favourable circumstances, the average length of time occupied in the capture of a whale may be stated as not exceeding an hour, and the general average, including all sizes of fish and all circumstances of capture, may probably be two or three hours. The mode described in the preceding pages of conducting the fishery for whales under favourable circumstances, may be considered as the general plan pursued by the fishers of all ports of Britain, as well as of those of other nations who resort to Spitzbergen.

The ease with which some whales are subdued, and the slightness of the entanglement by which they are taken, are truly surprising; but, with others, it is equally astonishing, that neither line nor harpoon, nor any number of each, is sufficiently strong to effect their capture. Whales have even been taken in consequence of the entanglement of a line, without any harpoon at all; though, when such a case has occurred, it has evidently been the result of accident. A harpooner belonging to the Prince of Brazils, of Hull, had struck a small fish. It descended, and remained for some time quiet, and at length appeared to be drowned. The strain on the line being then considerable, it was taken to the ship’s capstern, with a view of heaving the fish up. The force requisite for performing this operation was extremely various; sometimes the line came in with ease, at others, a quantity was withdrawn with great force and rapidity. As such, it appeared evident that the fish was yet alive. The heaving, however, was persisted in, and after the greater part of the lines had been drawn on board, a dead fish appeared at the surface, secured by several turns of the line round its body. It was disentangled with difficulty, and was confidently believed to be the whale that had been struck. But when the line was cleared from the fish, it proved to be merely the “bight,” for the end still hung perpendicularly downward. What was then the surprise to find that it was still pulled away with considerable force! The capstern was again resorted to, and shortly afterwards they hove up, also dead, the fish originally struck, with the harpoon still fast. Hence, it appeared that the fish first drawn up had got accidentally entangled with the line, and, in its struggles to escape, had still further involved itself, by winding the line repeatedly round its body. The fish first entangled, as was suspected, had long been dead, but it was this interloper that occasioned the jerks and other singular effects observed on the line.

The method already described is that which is adopted for the capture of whales under the most favourable circumstances, and is subject to many alterations when the situation or circumstances are peculiar. Hence arise various modes of capturing the whale, which furnish abundant opportunities for the exercise of ingenuity and skill, and are attended by their peculiar dangers. To an enumeration of these various methods, according to local circumstances, we now proceed to direct the reader’s attention.

1. _Pack-fishing._—The borders of close packs of drift-ice are frequently a favourite resort of large whales. To attack them in such a situation subjects the fisher to great risks in his lines and boats, as well as uncertainty in effecting their capture. When a considerable swell prevails on the borders of the ice, the whales, on being struck, will sometimes recede from the pack, and become the prize of their assailers; but most generally they flee to it for shelter, and frequently make their escape. To guard against the loss of lines as much as possible, it is usual either to strike two harpoons from different boats at the same moment, or to bridle the lines of a second boat upon those of the boat from which the fish is struck. This operation consists in fixing other lines to those of the fast-boat, at some distance from the harpoon, so that there is only one harpoon and one line immediately attached to the fish, but the double strength of a line from the place of their junction to the boats. Hence, should the fish flee directly into the ice, and proceed to an inaccessible distance, the two boats bearing an equal strain on each of their lines can at pleasure draw the harpoon, or break the single part of the line immediately connected with it, and in either case secure themselves against any considerable loss.

When a pack, from its closeness, prevents boats from penetrating, the men travel over the ice, leaping from piece to piece, in pursuit of the entangled whale. In this pursuit they carry lances with them, and sometimes harpoons, with which, whenever they can approach the fish, they attack it; and if they succeed in killing it, they drag it towards the exterior margin of the ice, by means of the line fastened to the harpoon with which it was originally struck. In such cases, it is generally an object of importance to sink it beneath the ice; for effecting which purpose, each lobe of the tail is divided from the body, excepting a small portion of the edge, from which it hangs pendulous in the water. If it still floats, bags of sand, kedges, or small cannon, are suspended by a block on the bight of the line, wherewith the buoyancy of the dead whale is usually overcome. It then sinks, and is easily hauled out by the line into the open sea.

To particularize all the variety of pack-fishing, arising from wind and weather, size of the fish, state and peculiarities of the ice, etc., would require more space than the interest of the subject to general readers would justify. I shall therefore only remark, that pack-fishing is, on the whole, the most troublesome and dangerous of all others; that instances have occurred of fish having been entangled during forty or fifty hours, and escaped after all; and that other instances are remembered, of ships having lost the greater part of their stock of lines, several of their boats, and sometimes, though happily less commonly, some individuals of their crews.

2. _Field-fishing._—The fishery for whales, when conducted at the margin of those wonderful sheets of solid ice, called fields, is, when the weather is fine, and the refuge for ships secure, the most agreeable, and sometimes the most productive of all situations which the fishery of Greenland presents. A fish struck at the margin of a large field of ice generally descends obliquely beneath it, takes four or eight lines from the fast-boat, and then returns exhausted to the edge. It is then attacked in the usual way with harpoons and lances, and is easily killed. There is one evident advantage in field-fishing, which is this: when the fast-boat lies at the edge of a firm unbroken field, and the line proceeds in an angle beneath the ice, the fish must necessarily arise somewhere in a semicircle described from the fast-boat as a centre, with a sweep not exceeding the length of the lines out; but most generally it appears in a line extending along the margin of the ice, so that the boats, when dispersed along the edge of the field, are as effectual and as ready for promoting the capture as twice the number of boats or more when fishing in open situations; because, in open situations, the whale may arise anywhere within a circle, instead of a semicircle, described by the length of the lines withdrawn from the fast-boat, whence it frequently happens that all the attendant boats are disposed in a wrong direction, and the fish recovers its breath, breaks loose, and escapes before any of them can secure it with a second harpoon. Hence, when a ship fishes at a field with an ordinary crew and six or seven boats, two of the largest fish may be struck at the same time with every prospect of success; while the same force attempting the capture of two at once in an open situation, will not unfrequently occasion the loss of both. There have, indeed, been many instances of a ship’s crew, with seven boats, striking at a field six fish at the same time, and succeeding in killing the whole; generally speaking, six boats at a field are capable of performing the same execution as near twice that number in open situations. Besides, fields sometimes afford an opportunity of fishing, when in any other situation there can be little or no probability of success, or, indeed, when to fish elsewhere is utterly impracticable. Thus, calms, storms, and fogs, are great annoyances in the fishery in general, and frequently prevent it altogether, but at fields the fishery goes on under any of these disadvantages. As there are several important advantages attending the fishery at fields, so likewise there are some serious disadvantages, chiefly relating to the safety of the ships engaged in the occupation. The motions of fields are rapid, various, and unaccountable, and the power with which they approach each other, and squeeze every resisting object, immense; hence occasionally vast mischief is produced, which it is not always in the power of the most skilful and attentive master to foresee or prevent.

Such are the principal advantages and disadvantages of fields of ice to the whale-fishery. The advantages, however, as above enumerated, though they extend to large floes, do not extend to small floes, or to such fields, how large soever they may be, as contain cracks or holes, or are filled up with thin ice in the interior. Large and firm fields are the most convenient, and likewise the most advantageous for the fishery; the most convenient, because the whales, unable to breathe beneath a close extensive field of ice, are obliged to make their appearance again above water among the boats on the look out; and they are the most advantageous, because not only the most fish commonly resort to them, but a greater number can be killed with less force, and in a shorter space of time, than in any other situation. Thin fields, or fields full of holes, being by no means advantageous to fish by, are usually avoided, because a “fast fish” retreating under such a field, can respire through the holes in the centre as conveniently as on the exterior; and a large fish usually proceeds from one hole to another, and if determined to advance, cannot possibly be stopped. In this case, all that can be done is, to break the line or draw the harpoon out. But when the fish can be observed blowing in any of the holes in a field, the men travel over the ice, and attack it with lances, pricking it over the nose to endeavour to turn it back. This scheme, however, does not always answer the expectations of the fishers, as frequently the fear of his enemies acts so powerfully on the whale that he pushes forward towards the interior to his dying moment. When killed, the same means are used as in pack-fishing to sink it, but they do not always succeed; for the harpoon is frequently drawn out, or the line broken in the effort. If, therefore, no attempt to sink the fish avails, there is scarcely any other practicable method of making a prize of it, (unless when the ice happens to be so thin that it can be broken with a boat, or a channel readily cut in it with an ice-saw,) than cutting the blubber away, and dragging it piece by piece across the ice to the vessel, which requires immense labour, and is attended with vast loss of time. Hence we have a sufficient reason for avoiding such situations, whenever fish can be found elsewhere.

As connected with this subject, I cannot pass over a circumstance which occurred within my own observation, and which excited my highest admiration. On the 8th July, 1813, the ship Esk lay by the edge of a thin sheet of ice, in which were several thin parts and some holes. Here a fish being heard blowing, a harpoon, having a line connected with it, was conveyed across the ice by a boat on guard, and the harpooner succeeded in striking the whale, at the distance of 350 yards from the verge. It dragged out ten lines, (2,400 yards,) and was supposed to be seen blowing in different holes in the ice. After some time, it happened to make its appearance on the exterior, when a harpoon was struck at the moment it was on the point of proceeding again beneath. About a hundred yards from the edge, it broke the ice where it was a foot in thickness with its crown, and respired through the opening. It then determinately pushed forward, breaking the ice as it advanced, in spite of the lances continually directed against it. It reached at length a kind of basin in the field, where it floated on the surface of the water without any encumbrance from ice. Its back being fairly exposed, the harpoon struck from the boat was observed to be so slightly entangled that it was ready to drop out. Some of the officers lamented this circumstance, and expressed a wish that the harpoon were better fast, observing at the same time that if it should slip out, the fish would either be lost, or they would be under the necessity of flensing it where it lay, and of dragging the pieces of blubber over the ice to the ship, a kind and degree of labour every one was anxious to avoid. No sooner was the wish expressed, and its importance made known, than one of the sailors, a smart and enterprising fellow, stepped forward and volunteered his services to strike it better in. Not at all intimidated by the surprise which was manifested in every countenance by such a bold proposal, he pulled out his pocket-knife, leapt upon the back of the living whale, and immediately cut the harpoon out. Stimulated by this courageous example, two of his companions proceeded to his assistance. While one of them hauled upon the line, and held it in his hands, the other set his shoulder against the extremity of the harpoon, and, though it was without a stock, he contrived to strike it again into the fish more effectually than it was at first. The fish was in motion before this was finished. After they got off its back, it advanced a considerable distance, breaking the ice all the way, and survived this uncommon treatment ten or fifteen minutes. This admirable act was an essential benefit. The fish sunk spontaneously after being killed, on which it was hauled out to the edge of the ice by the line, and secured without further trouble. It proved a stout whale, and a very acceptable prize.

When a ship approaches a considerable field of ice, and finds whales, it is usual to moor to the leeward side of it, from which the adjoining ice generally first separates. Boats are then placed on watch on each side of the ship, and stationed at intervals of one hundred or one hundred and fifty yards along the edge of the ice. Hence, if a fish arises anywhere between the extreme boats, it seldom escapes unhurt. It is not uncommon for a great number of ships to moor to the same sheet of ice. When the whale-fishery of the Hollanders was in a flourishing state, above one hundred sail of ships might sometimes be seen moored to the same field of ice, each having two or more boats on watch. The field would in consequence, be so nearly surrounded with boats, that it was almost impossible for a fish to rise near the verge of the ice without being within the limits of a start of some of them.

3. _Fishing in crowded ice or in open packs._—In navigable open drift-ice, or amongst small detached streams and patches, either of which serve in a degree to break the force of the sea, and to prevent any considerable swell from arising, we have a situation which is considered as one of the best possible for conducting the fishery in; consequently, it comes under the same denomination as those favourable situations in which I have first attempted to describe the proceedings of the fishers in killing the whale. But the situation I now mean to refer to is when the ice is crowded and nearly close, so close, indeed, that it scarcely affords room for boats to pass through it, and by no means sufficient space for a ship to be navigated among it. This kind of situation occurs in somewhat open packs, or in large patches of crowded ice, and affords a fair probability of capturing a whale, though it is seldom accomplished without a considerable deal of trouble. When the ice is very crowded, and the ship cannot sail into it with propriety, it is usual, especially with foreigners, to seek out for a mooring to some mass of ice, if such can be found, extending two or three fathoms or more under water. A piece of ice of this kind is capable not only of holding the ship “head to wind,” but also to windward of the smaller ice. The boats then set out in chase of any fish which may be seen, and when one happens to be struck, they proceed in the capture in a similar manner as when under more favourable circumstances, excepting so far as the obstruction which the quality and arrangement of the ice may offer to the regular system of proceeding. Among crowded ice, for instance, the precise direction pursued by the fish is not easily ascertained, nor can the fish itself be readily discovered on its first arrival at the surface after being struck, on account of the elevation of the intervening masses of ice, and the great quantity of line it frequently takes from the fast-boat. Success in such a situation depends on the boats being spread widely abroad, and on a judicious arrangement of each boat; on a keen look out on the part of the harpooners in the boats, and on their occasionally taking the benefit of a hummock of ice, from the elevation of which the fish may sometimes be seen blowing in the interstices of the ice; on pushing or rowing the boats with the greatest imaginable celerity towards the place where the fish may have been seen; and lastly, on the exercise of the highest degree of activity and dispatch in every proceeding.

If these be neglected, the fish will generally have taken breath, recovered its strength, and removed to some other quarter, before the arrival of the boats; and it is often remarked, that if there be one part of the ice more crowded or more difficult of access than another, it commonly retreats thither for refuge. In such cases, the sailors find much difficulty in getting to it with their boats, having to separate many pieces of ice before they can pass through between them. But when it is not practicable to move the pieces, and when they cannot travel over them, they must either drag the boats across the intermediate ice, or perform an extensive circuit before they can reach the opposite side of the close ice, into which the whale has retreated.

A second harpoon in this case, as indeed in all others, is a material point. They proceed to lance whenever the second harpoon is struck, and strike more harpoons as the auxiliary boats progressively arrive at the place. When the fish is killed, it is often at a distance from the ship, and so circumstanced that the ship cannot get near it. In such cases, the fish must be towed by the boats to the ship; an operation which, among crowded ice, is most troublesome and laborious.

4. _Bay-ice fishing._—Bay-ice constitutes a situation which, though not particularly dangerous, is yet, on the whole, one of the most troublesome in which whales are killed. In sheets of bay-ice, the whales find a very effectual shelter; for so long as the ice will not carry a man, they cannot be approached with a boat without producing such a noise as must certainly warn them of the intended assault; and if a whale, by some favourable accident, were struck, the difficulties of completing the capture are always numerous, and sometimes prove insurmountable. The whale having free locomotion beneath the ice, the fishers pursue it under great disadvantage. The fishers cannot push their boats toward it but with extreme difficulty, while the whale, invariably warned by the noise of their approach, possesses every facility for avoiding its enemies.

In the year 1813, I adopted a new plan of fishing in bay-ice, which was attended with the most successful result. The ship under my command, the Esk, of Whitby, was frozen into a sheet of bay-ice, included in a triangular space, formed by several massive fields and floes. Here a number of small whales were seen sporting around us in every little hole or space in the bay-ice, and occasionally they were observed to break through it for the purpose of breathing. In various little openings free of ice near the ship, few of which were twenty yards in diameter, we placed boats, each equipped with a harpoon and lines, and directed by two or three men. They had orders to place themselves in such a situation that if a fish appeared in the same opening they could scarcely fail of striking it. Previous to this, I supplied myself with a pair of ice-shoes, consisting of two pieces of thin deal, six feet in length, and seven inches in breadth. They were made very thin at both ends, and in the centre of each was a hollow place, exactly adapted for the reception of the sole of my boot, with a loop of leather for confining the toes. I was thus enabled to retain the ice-shoes pretty firmly to my feet when required, or, when I wished it, to disengage them in a moment. Where the ice was smooth, it was easy to move in a straight line, but in turning I found a considerable difficulty, and required some practice before I could effect it without falling. I advanced with tolerable speed, where the ice was level on the surface, by sliding the shoes alternately forward, but when I met with rough hilly places I experienced great inconvenience. When, however, the rough places happened to consist of strong ice, which generally was the case, I stept out of my ice-shoes until I reached a weaker part. Equipped with this apparatus, I travelled safely over ice which had not been frozen above twenty-four hours, and which was incapable of supporting the weight of the smallest boy in the ship.

Whenever a fish was struck, I gave orders to the harpooner, in running the line, to use every means of drowning it; the trouble of hauling it up, under the circumstances in which the ship was placed, being a matter of no consideration. This was attempted by holding a steady tight strain on the line, without slacking it or jerking it unnecessarily, and by forbearing to haul the line when the fish stopped. By this measure, one fish, the stoutest of the three which we got, was drowned. When others were struck, and the attempt to drown them failed, I provided myself with a harpoon, and observing the direction of the line, travelled towards the place where I expected the fish to rise. A small boat was launched, more leisurely, in the same direction for my support; and whenever the ice in my track was capable of supporting a man, assistance was afforded me in dragging the line. When the wounded fish appeared, I struck my harpoon through the ice, and then, with some occasional assistance, proceeded to lance it, until it was killed. At different times, the fish rose beneath my feet, and broke the ice on which I stood; on one occasion, where the ice was happily more than usually strong, I was obliged to leave my ice shoes, and skip off. In this way we captured three fish, and took their produce on board, while several ships near us made not the least progress in the fishery. After they were killed, we had much trouble in getting them to the ship, but as we could not employ ourselves to advantage in any other way, we were well satisfied with the issue. This part of the business I could not effect alone, and all hands, who were occasionally employed in it, broke through the ice. Some individuals broke in two or three times, but no serious accident ensued. As a precaution, we extended a rope from man to man, which was held in the hands of each in their progress across the ice, and which served for drawing those out of the water who happened to break through. Sometimes ten or a dozen of them would break in at once, but so far was such an occurrence from exciting distress, that each of their companions indulged a laugh at their expense, notwithstanding they probably shared the same fate a minute or two afterwards.

5. _Fishing in storms._—Excepting in situations sheltered from the ice, it would be alike useless and presumptuous to attempt to kill whales during a storm. Instances, however, occur, wherein fish that were struck during fine weather, or in winds which do not prevent the boats from plying about, remain entangled, but unsubdued, after the commencement of a storm. Sometimes the capture is completed, at others the fishers are under the necessity of cutting the lines, and allowing the whale to escape. Sometimes, when they have succeeded in killing it, and in securing it during the gale with a hawser to the ship, they are enabled to make a prize of it on the return of moderate weather; at others, after having it to appearance secured by means of a sufficient rope, the dangerous proximity of an ice-pack constrains them to cut it adrift and abandon it for the preservation of their vessel. After thus being abandoned, it becomes the prize of the first who gets possession of it, though it be in the face of the original capturers. A storm commencing while the boats are engaged with an entangled fish, sometimes occasions serious disasters. Generally, however, though they suffer the loss of the fish, and perhaps some of their boats and materials, yet the men escape with their lives.

6. _Fishing in foggy weather._—The fishery in storms can never be voluntary; but in foggy weather, though occasionally attended with hazard, the fishery is not altogether impracticable. The fogs which occur in the icy regions in June and July are generally dense and lasting: they are so thick, that objects cannot be distinguished at the distance of 100 or 150 yards, and frequently continue for several days without attenuation. To fish with safety and success, during a thick fog, is, therefore, a matter of difficulty, and of still greater uncertainty. When it happens that a fish conducts itself favourably, that is, descends almost perpendicularly, and, on its return to the surface, remains nearly stationary, or moves round in a small circle, the capture is usually accomplished without hazard or particular difficulty; but when, on the contrary, it proceeds with any considerable velocity in a horizontal direction, or obliquely downwards, it soon drags the boats out of sight of the ship, and shortly so confounds the fishers in the intensity of the mist, that they lose all traces of the situation of their vessel. If the fish, in its flight, draws them beyond the reach of the sound of a bell, or a horn, their personal safety becomes endangered; and if they are removed beyond the sound of cannon, their situation becomes extremely hazardous, especially if no other ships happen to be in the immediate vicinity. Meanwhile, whatever may be their imaginary or real danger, the mind of their commander must be kept in the most anxious suspense until they are found; and whether they may be in safety or near perishing with fatigue, hunger, and cold, so long as he is uncertain of their fate, his anxiety must be the same.

Before entering on the subsequent operations of the whalers, connected with a successful fishery, I shall give a few examples of remarkable strength, activity, or other peculiarity, in the behaviour of whales after they have been struck, being a few of the curious circumstances connected with the fishery which I have myself observed, or have received from unquestionable authority. On the 25th June, 1812, one of the harpooners belonging to the Resolution, of Whitby, under my command, struck a whale by the edge of a small floe of ice; assistance being promptly afforded, a second boat’s lines were attached to those of the fast-boat in a few minutes after the harpoon was discharged; the remainder of the boats proceeded to some distance in the direction which the fish seemed to have taken. In about a quarter of an hour, the fast-boat, to my surprise, again made a signal for lines. As the ship was then within five minutes’ sail, we instantly steered towards the boat, with the view of affording assistance by means of a spare boat we still retained on board. Before we reached the place, however, we observed four oars displayed in signal order, which, by their number, indicated a most urgent necessity for assistance. Two or three men were at the same time seen seated close by the stern, which was considerably elevated, for the purpose of keeping it down, while the bow of the boat, by the force of the line, was drawn down to the level of the sea, and the harpooner, by the friction of the line round the bollard, was enveloped in smoky obscurity. At length, when the ship was scarcely one hundred yards distant, we perceived preparations for quitting the boat. The sailors’ pea jackets were cast upon the adjoining ice; the oars were thrown down; the crew leaped overboard; the bow of the boat was buried in the water; the stern rose perpendicularly, and then majestically disappeared. The harpooner having caused the end of the line to be fastened to the iron ring at the boat’s stern was the means of its loss; and a _tongue_ of the ice, on which was a depth of several feet of water, kept the boat, by the pressure of the line against it, at such a considerable distance as prevented the crew from leaping upon the floe. Some of them were, therefore, put to the necessity of swimming for their preservation, but all of them succeeded in scrambling upon the ice, and were taken on board the ship in a few minutes. It may be here observed, that it is an uncommon circumstance for a fish to require more than two boats’ lines in such a situation; none of our harpooners, therefore, had any scruple in leaving the fast-boat, never suspecting, after it had received the assistance of one boat with six lines, or upward, that it would need any more.

Several ships being about us, there was a possibility that some person might attack and make a prize of the whale, when it had so far escaped us that we no longer retained any hold of it; as such, we set all sail the ship could safely sustain, and worked through several narrow and intricate channels in the ice in the direction I observed the fish had retreated. After a little time, it was descried by the people in the boats at a considerable distance to the eastward; a general chase immediately commenced, and within the space of an hour three harpoons were struck. We now imagined that the fish was secure, but our expectations were premature. The whale resolutely pushed beneath a large floe that had been recently broken to pieces by the swell, and soon drew all the lines out of the second fast-boat, the officer of which, not being able to get any assistance, tied the end of his line to a hummock of ice and broke it. Soon afterwards, the other two boats, still _fast_, were dragged against the broken floe, when one of the harpoons drew out. The lines of only one boat, therefore remained fast to the fish, and this, with six or eight lines out, was dragged forward into the shattered floe with astonishing force; pieces of ice, each of which were sufficiently large to have answered the purpose of a mooring for the ship, were wheeled about by the strength of the whale; and such was the tension and elasticity of the line that, whenever it slipped clear of any mass of ice, after turning it round into the space between any two adjoining pieces, the boat and its crew flew forward through the crack with the velocity of an arrow, and never failed to launch several feet upon the first mass of ice that it encountered.

While we scoured the sea around the broken floe of the ship, and while the ice was attempted in vain by the boats, the whale continued to press forward in an easterly direction towards the sea. At length, when fourteen lines, about 1,680 fathoms, were drawn from the fourth fast-boat, a slight entanglement of the line broke it at the stern. The fish again made its escape, taking along with it a boat and twenty-eight lines. The united length of the lines was 6,720 yards, or upwards of three English miles and three-quarters; value with the boat above £150 sterling. The obstruction of the sunken boat to the progress of the fish must have been immense, and that of the lines likewise considerable, the weight of the lines alone being thirty-five hundred weight. So long as the fourth fast-boat, through the medium of its lines, retained its hold of the fish, we searched the adjoining sea with the ship in vain, but in a short time after the line was divided we got sight of the object of pursuit at the distance of near two miles to the eastward of the ice and boats, in the open sea. One boat only with lines, and two empty boats, were reserved by the ship. Having, however, happily fine weather and a breeze of wind, we immediately gave chase under all sails, though it must be confessed with the insignificant force by us, the distance of the fish, and the rapidity of its flight considered, we had but very small hopes of success. At length, after pursuing it five or six miles, being at least nine miles from the place where it was struck, we came up with it, and it seemed inclined to rest after its extraordinary exertion. The two dismantled or empty boats having been furnished with two lines each, (a very inadequate supply,) they, together with the one in good state of equipment, now made an attack upon the whale. One of the harpooners made a blunder; the fish saw the boat, took the alarm, and again fled. I now supposed it would be seen no more; nevertheless, we chased nearly a mile in the direction I imagined it had taken, and placed the boats to the best of my judgment in the most advantageous situations. In this instance we were extremely successful. The fish rose near one of the boats, and was immediately harpooned. In a few minutes, two more harpoons entered its back, and lances were plied against it with vigour and success. Exhausted by its amazing exertions to escape, it yielded itself at length to its fate, received the piercing wounds of the lances without resistance, and finally died without a struggle. After all, it may seem surprising that it was not a particularly large individual, the largest lamina of whalebone only measuring nine feet six inches, while those affording twelve feet bone are not uncommon. The quantity of line withdrawn from the different boats engaged in the capture was singularly great. It amounted altogether to 10,440 yards, or nearly six English miles. Of these, thirteen new lines were lost, together with the sunken boat, the harpoon connecting them with the fish having dropped out before the whale was killed. Thus terminated with success an attack upon a whale, which exhibited the most uncommon determination to escape from its pursuers, seconded by the most amazing strength, of any individual whose capture I ever witnessed.

When engaged in the pursuit of a large whale, it is a necessary precaution for two boats at all times to proceed in company, that the one may be able to assist the other on any emergency. With this principle in view, two boats from the Esk were sent out in chase of some large whales, on the 13th of June, 1814. No ice was within sight, the boats had proceeded some time together, when they separated in pursuit of two whales, not far distant from each other, when, by a singular coincidence, the harpooners each struck his fish at the same moment. They were a mile from the ship. Urgent signals for assistance were immediately displayed by each boat, and, in a few minutes, one of the harpooners was under the necessity of slipping the end of his line. Happily, the other fish did not descend so deep, and the lines in the boat proved adequate to the occasion. One of the fish being then supposed to be lost, five of the boats, out of seven, attended on the fish which yet remained entangled, and speedily killed it. A short time afterwards, the other fish supposed to be irrecoverably lost, was descried at a little distance from the place where it was struck; three boats proceeded against it; it was immediately struck, and in twenty minutes also killed. Thus were successfully captured two whales, both of which had been despaired of. They produced us near forty tuns of oil, value at that time £1,400. The lines attached to the fish last killed were recovered in a remarkable manner. The harpooners were busily engaged in attempting to secure them, when the harpoon, by which alone they were prevented from sinking, slipped out; but as it descended in the water, it luckily hooked the line belonging to another boat, by which both harpoon and lines were preserved.

It is very generally believed by the whalers, that fish have occasionally been struck, which, by sudden extension or heave of the body, have instantly disengaged themselves from the harpoon. This usually happens when the whale is struck “with a slack back,” as that position of the fish is denominated, in which the back being depressed the flesh is relaxed. A harpoon then struck occasions an uncommon wound. Hence, if the fish suddenly extends itself and elevates its back, the wound appears of twice the size of the harpoon, and consequently the weapon is capable of being thrown out by the jerk of the body. Under such circumstances as these, a large whale was struck by a harpooner belonging to the ship Howe, of Shields. The fish extending and lifting its back with uncommon violence, the harpoon was disengaged and projected high into the air, when, at the same moment, the fish rolled over upon its back, and received the point of the falling weapon in its belly, whereby it was captured and caught. This circumstance, romantic as it may appear, is so well authenticated by the person who struck the fish, together with others who were in the boat at the same time, and were witnesses of the fact, that I have no scruple in introducing it here.

On the 28th of May, 1817, the Royal Bounty, of Leith, captain Drysdale, fell in with a great number of whales, in the lat. 77° 25′ north, and long. 5° or 6° east. Neither ice nor land was in sight, nor was there supposed to be either the one or the other within fifty or sixty miles. A brisk breeze of wind prevailed, and the weather was clear. The boats were, therefore, manned and sent in pursuit. After a chase of about five hours, the harpooner, commanding a boat, who, with another in company, had rowed out of sight of the ship, struck one of the whales. This was about four A.M., of the 29th. The captain, supposing from the long absence of the two most distant boats that a fish had been struck, directed the course of the ship towards the place where he had last seen them, and about eight A.M. he got sight of a boat which displayed the signal for being _fast_. Some time afterwards, he observed the other boat approach the fish, a second harpoon struck, and the usual signal displayed. As, however, the fish dragged the two boats away with considerable speed, it was midday before any assistance could reach them. Two more harpoons were then struck, but such was the vigour of the whale that, although it constantly dragged through the water four to six boats, together with a length of 1,600 fathoms of line which it had drawn out of the different boats, yet it pursued its flight nearly as fast as a boat could row and such was the terror that it manifested on the approach of its enemies, that, whenever a boat passed beyond its tail, it invariably dived. All their endeavours to lance it were, therefore, in vain.

The crews of the loose boats being unable to keep pace with the fish, caught hold of and moored themselves to the fast-boats; and for some hours afterwards, all hands were constrained to sit in idle impatience, waiting for some relaxation in the speed of the whale. Its most general course had hitherto been to windward, but a favourable change taking place, enabled the ship, which had previously been at a great distance, to join the boats at eight P.M. They succeeded in tacking one of the lines to the ship which was fast to the fish, with a view of retarding its flight. They then furled the top-gallant sails, and lowered the top sails; but after supporting the ship a few minutes head to wind, the wither of the harpoon upset or twisted aside, and the instrument was disengaged from its grasp. The whale immediately set off to windward with increased speed, and it required an interval of three hours before the ship could again approach it. Another line was then taken on board, which immediately broke. A fifth harpoon had previously been struck, to replace the one which had been pulled out, but the line attached to it was soon afterwards cut. They then instituted various schemes for arresting the speed of the fish, which occupied their close attention nearly two hours. But its velocity was yet such that the master, who had himself proceeded to the attack, was unable to approach sufficiently near to strike a harpoon. After a long chase, however, he succeeded in getting hold of one of the lines which the fish dragged after it, and in fastening another line to it. The fish then happily turned towards the ship, which was a considerable distance to leeward.