'That matter has already been settled, Captain. Abel Sawyers, here, has been elected to be our commodore.' Harvey's ugly face smiled.
'Then that is most satisfactory…'
'There is one thing, Captain.' Waller's apparent insignificance was enhanced by a thin voice with an insinuating quality.
'What is that, Captain Waller?'
'I do not think you understand the diversity of individual method employed by masters in the whalefishery. We do not expect to be constrained by you in any way. We wish to be free to chase fish wherever we think it to our advantage.'
Drinkwater shrugged, irritated by the man's pedantic manner. Alone among the whale-ship masters Waller seemed the least appropriate to his calling.
'Captain Waller, I have my orders and they are to extend to you the protection of a ship of war. I cannot prevent you from hunting the whale wherever you desire, but I can and have arranged a rendezvous and a distress signal to use if you are attacked.'
'And what do you propose?'
'My gunner is preparing Blue Lights for you. A Blue Light shot into the sky and accompanied by two guns may transmit your distress over a large distance and if this signal is used whenever strange sails are sighted I am sanguine that Melusine may be deployed to cover you.'
'And if we are attacked from two directions simultaneously?' asked Waller.
'I shall deal with hypothetical situations when they become real, sir, you ain't the only people used to active operations with boats, Captain.'
'And you are not the only people fitted with cannon. There have been instances where whale-ships have driven off an enemy…'
'Chiefly, I believe,' snapped Drinkwater, 'when the enemy was one of their own kind disputing the possession of a fish. Frankly, Captain Waller, since you have made it clear that you intend to fish off Spitzbergen I cannot see why you wish to enquire into the methods I intend to employ to protect the trade.'
Waller did not retort but lolled back into his chair. 'Aye, Captain, you will perfectly satisfy me if you do not interfere.'
Angrily Drinkwater looked at Harvey and Sawyers. They were clearly out of sympathy with Waller but said nothing as he equally obviously represented a body of opinion among this curious Arctic democracy. Drinkwater swallowed pride and anger. 'Another glass, gentlemen,' he conciliated. 'I suggest that we remain in company until the seventy-second parallel in eight degrees easterly longitude.' He laid a finger on the chart and the three men bent over the table. 'From here the Spitzbergen ships can detach.'
'I think that would be most agreeable,' said Sawyers.
'Agreed,' added Harvey.
Waller on the left, smoothed the chart out and nodded. 'Aye, 'twill do,' he said thoughtfully. Drinkwater saw his three visitors to their boats. The sun had disappeared behind a bank of cloud as they came on deck.
'I shall hoist the signal to weigh at noon tomorrow then, gentlemen.' They all agreed. Drinkwater looked across the Sound at the whalers. Odd shapes had appeared at their mastheads.
'Crow's nests,' explained Sawyers in answer to Drinkwater's question. 'It is necessary to provide an elevated lookout post both for sighting the fish and for navigating through the ice. I myself have spent many hours aloft there and have a nest of my own devising.'
'I see… Good night, Captain Waller.'
'They are also indispensable for shooting unicorns, Captain,' added Harvey.
'Unicorns? Come sir you haze me…'
'A name given to the Narwhal or Tusked Dolphin, Captain Drinkwater, after which my own ship is named. He may be hit from the masthead where a shot from the deck will be deceived by the refraction of the sea.'
'Ahhh… Your boat, Captain Harvey.'
Harvey's ugly face cracked into a grin and he held out his hand. 'If a King's Officer won't.take offence from an old man, may I suggest that excessive concern will have a bad effect on you. Whatever heated air may have been blown about back in Hull, no-one expects the impossible. While we don't want to be attacked by plaguey Frenchmen we are more anxious to hunt fish.'
'I fear I cut a poor figure.'
'Not at all, man, not at all. You are unfamiliar with our ways and your zeal does you credit.'
'Thank you.'
'And I'll go further and say, speaking plainly as a Yorkshireman, you'm a damned sight better than that bloody Palgrave.' Harvey went over the side still smiling. Drinkwater turned to say farewell to Sawyers. The Quaker was staring aloft.
'Thou woulds't oblige thyself, Captain, by constructing a similar contrivance aloft.'
'Crow's nest? But it would incommode the striking of my t'gallant masts in a gale, Captain Sawyers.'
Sawyers nodded. 'Thou hast a dilemma, Friend; to keep thy lofty spars in order to have the advantage in a chase, or to snug thy rig down and render it practical.'
Drinkwater looked aloft and Sawyers added, 'Come, Friend, visit the Faithful tomorrow forenoon and familiarise yourself with the workings of a whale-ship.'
'I am obliged to you, Captain.' They shook hands and Sawyers clambered down into his boat. Drinkwater watched him pulled away, across the steel-grey waters of the Sound.
Immediately after Lieutenant Germaney had seen the captain over the side the following morning he returned to the gunroom and kicked out those of its occupants who lingered over their breakfasts. He took four glasses of blackstrap in quick succession and sent for the Reverend Obadiah Singleton.
'Take a seat, Mr Singleton. A glass of blackstrap?'
'I do not touch liquor, Mr Germaney. What is it you wish to see me about?'
'You are a physician are you not?'
Singleton nodded. 'Can you cure clap?'
Singleton's astonishment was exceeded by Germaney's sense of relief. The wine now induced a sense of euphoria but he deemed it prudent to restrain Singleton from any moralising. 'I don't want your offices as a damned parson, d'you hear? Well, what d'you say, God damn it?'
'Kindly refrain from blasphemy, Mr Germaney. I had thought of you as a gentleman.'
Germaney looked sharply at Singleton. 'A gentleman may be unfortunate in the matter of his bedfellows, Singleton.'
'I was referring to the intemperance of your language, but no matter. You contracted this in Hull, eh?'
Germaney nodded. 'A God da… a bawdy house.'
'Were you alone?'
'No. I was in company.'
'With whom, Mr Germaney? Please do not trifle with me, I beg you.'
'Captain Sir James Palgrave, the Lord Walmsley and the Honourable Alexander Glencross.'
'All gentlemen,' observed Singleton drily. 'May I ask you whether you have advertised your affliction to these other young men?'
'Good God no!'
'And why have you not consulted Mr Macpherson?'
'Because the man is a drunken gossip in whom I have not the slightest faith.'
'He will have greater experience of this sort of disease than myself, Mr Germaney, that I can assure you.'
Germaney shook his head, the euphoria wearing off and being again replaced by the dread that had been his constant companion since his first intimation of the disease. 'Can you cure me Singleton? I'll endow your mission…'
'Let us leave it to God and your constitution, Germaney. Now what are your symptoms?'
'I have a gleet that stings like the very devil…'
Germaney described his agony and Singleton nodded. 'You appear to be a good diagnostician, Mr Germaney. You are not a married man?'
'Affianced, Singleton, affianced, God damn and blast it!'
The deck of the Faithful presented a curious appearance to the uninitiated. Accompanied by Quilhampton, Gorton and Frey, Drinkwater was welcomed by Sawyers who introduced his son and chief mate. He directed his son to show the younger men the ship and tactfully took Drinkwater on a private tour.
The Faithful gave an immediate impression of strength and utility, carrying five boats in high davits with three more stowed in her hold. Her decks were a mass of lines and breakers as h
er crew attended the final preparations for fishing and the filling of her water casks. The men worked steadily, with little noise and no attention paid to their commander and his guest as they picked their way round the cluttered deck.
Sawyers pointed aloft. 'First, Captain, the rig; it must be weatherly but easily handled. Barque rig with courses, top and t'gallant sails. Thou doubtless noticed the curious narrow-footed cut to our courses, well this clears the davits and allows me to rig the foot to a 'thwartships boom. The boom is secured amidships to those eye-bolts on the deck and thus tacks and sheets are done away with. As thou see'st with course and topsail braces led thus, through that system of euphroes I can handle this ship, of three hundred and fifty tons burthen, with five men.'
'Ingenious.'
'Aye, 'tis indeed, and indispensable when working after my boats in pursuit of fish running into the ice. Now come…' Sawyers clambered up onto the rail and leaned his elbows on the gunwhale of one of the carvel-built whale-boats. Drinkwater admired the lovely sheer and sharp ends of the boat and at his remark a man straightened up from the work of coiling a thin, white hemp line into a series of tubs beneath the thwarts.
'Whale line,' explained Sawyers, 'six tubs per boat, totalling seven hundred and twenty fathoms. The inner end accessible to the boat steerer, so that the lines of another boat may be secured and thus extend the line. This is done in the event of a fish sounding deep or running under ice. The outer end at the bow is secured to the foreganger, a short line attaching it to the harpoon which is kept to hand here, on this rest.' The instrument itself was not in place and Sawyers added, 'This is Elijah Pucill, Captain, speksioneer and chief harpooner; a mighty hunter of mysticetus.' The man grinned and Sawyers pointed to various items in the boat.
'Five oars and a sixth for steering. We prefer the oar for steering as it doth not retard the speed of a boat like a rudder. By it the boat may be turned even when stopped. By sculling, a stealthy approach may be made to a fish caught sleeping or resting upon the surface of the ocean. Of course a whale-boat may, by the same method, be propelled through a narrow ice-lead where, by the lateral extension of her oars, she would otherwise be unable to go.'
Drinkwater nodded. 'The oars,' Sawyer tapped an ash loom, 'are secured by rope grommets to a single thole pin and may thus be trailed without loss, clearing the boat of obstruction and allowing a man two hands to attend to any other task.'
'Who commands the boat?'
'In our fishery the harpooner, although in America they are sufficiently democratic to prohibit the officer from pulling an oar and he combines the duties of mate and steersman. My boats are commanded by the chief and second mates and the speksioneer, here. They pick their boat-steerers and line managers and all are men with whom they have sailed for many seasons.
'Remember, Captain, the harpooner is the man who places the harpoon, who must cut the fish adrift if danger threatens and who, having exhausted the fish, finally comes up with him and attacks with the lance.' Sawyers pointed to half a dozen slim bladed, long shafted weapons like boarding pikes. 'The lance is plied until the vitals of the fish are found and he is deprived of life.'
'It is not against your sensibilities to deprive the fish of life, Captain?'
Sawyers looked surprised. 'Genesis, Captain, Chapter One, verses twenty-six to twenty-eight, "God gave man dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and every living thing that moveth upon the earth." And in the Eighth Psalm "the Almighty madest him to have dominion over the works of Thy hands; thou hast put all things under his feet… the fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea, and whatsoever passeth through the paths of the seas. O, Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth…".'
'Amen.' The speksioneer added fervently and then Sawyers resumed his discourse as though nothing had interrupted it.
'It is ordained thus.' He looked at Drinkwater, 'But I do not hold with the practice used by Jaybez Harvey and others, including thy friend Ellerby, of discharging the harpoon from a gun. It is a method lately introduced and not much in favour among the more feeling masters. Now there,' he said indicating a massive vertical post set near the bow of the whale-boat, 'is the bollard, round which a turn of whale-line may be taken to retard his progress and the more quickly tire him. This is very necessary in the case of a young whale or one which swims under the ice. It is, as you see, deeply scored by the friction of the line and may require water, supplied by this piggin, to prevent it setting fire to the timber.'
'Good heavens, and the line is able to take this strain?'
'Aye. The line is of the very best hemp and the finest manufacture. I have seen a boat pulled under when a fish dives and towed along underwater until the fish surfaced exhausted.'
'And you recovered the boat?'
'Yes. It does not always occur and here is an axe with which the harpooner can, at any time, cut free. But once a boat is fast, the harpooner is reluctant to let it go and he may, as we say, give the fish the boat, to induce fatigue or drown it.'
'Drown it? I do not understand.'
'The fish breathes air, respiring on the surface. He is able, however, to sustain energetic swimming for many minutes before nature compels him to return to the surface for more air. Should he dive too deep, as is often the case with young fish, he may gasp many fathoms down and thus drown.'
'I see,' said Drinkwater wondering. 'It must be of the first importance to ensure that the line is properly coiled and does not foul.' The man in the boat grinned and nodded.
'Aye, Cap'n, for if it fouls and the line-tender or harpooner don't cut it through quick enough, it may capsize the boat and take a man down in its 'tanglement.'
'Thou hast seen that, Elijah, hast thou not?'
'Aye, Cap'n. Once in the Davis Strait and once off Hackluyt's Head.'
Drinkwater shook his head in admiration. 'I do not see a harpoon, Captain Sawyers, and am curious to do so.'
'Ah.' Sawyers regained the deck and led Drinkwater forward. Three men sat upon a hatch, each carefully filing the head of a harpoon. A forge was set up on deck, with bellows and anvil at which a fourth man was fashioning another.
'The harpoon is made of malleable iron allowing it to twist but not to break. Here, Matthew, pray show Captain Drinkwater what I mean.'
A huge man rose from the hatch and grasped the harpoon he was sharpening, holding it at each end of the shank. Drinkwater noted the narrow shank which terminated at one end in the barbed head and at the other in a hollow socket intended to take the wooden stock used by the harpooner to throw the deadly weapon.
The man Matthew walked to the rail and hooked the shank round a belaying pin. With a grunt he bent and then twisted it several times.
'The devil!'
'Old horseshoe nails, Captain, that is what the finest harpoons are made from.'
'And the barbs on the harpoon's head are sufficient to secure it in the flesh of the fish enough to tow a boat?' Drinkwater asked uncertainly.
'Aye, Friend. The mouth, or head as thou calls't it, has withered barbs as you see. The barbs become entangled in the immensely strong ligamentous fibres of the blubber and the very action of the fish in swimming away increases this. The reverse barb, or stop-wither, collects a number of the reticulated sinews which are very numerous near the skin and once well fast, it is unusual to draw it.'
They passed on along the deck. Sawyers pointed out the various instruments used to flens a whale. They were razor sharp and gleaming with oil as each was inspected.
'They are cleaner than my surgeon's catling.'
The two men peered into the hold where, Sawyers explained, the 'whale-bone' and casks of blubber would be stowed, 'If God willed it that they had a good season.'
Drinkwater followed Sawyers into his quarters. It was a plain cabin, well lit by stern lights through which Drinkwater could see Melusine.
'I see you have struck your main topgallant mast, Friend.'
'I took your advice.' Drinkwater took the offe
red glass of fine port, 'To the mortification of several officers, I am amputating the upper twelve feet.'
'You will not regret it.'
'Thank you for your hospitality, Captain Sawyers. I have to admit to being impressed.'
Sawyers smiled with evident pleasure. 'The ship is but a piece of man's ingenuity, Captain Drinkwater. You have yet to see the wonders of the Almighty in the Arctic Seas.'
PART TWO
The Greenland Sea
'Oh Greenland is a cold country,
And seldom is seen the sun;
The keen frost and snow continually blow,
And the daylight never is done,
Brave boys! And the daylight never is done.'
Sea-song, The Man O' War's Man
Chapter Six
The Matter of a Surgeon
June 1803
'You are entirely to blame, Mr Singleton,' shouted Drinkwater above the howl of the wind in the rigging. He stood at the windward rail, holding a backstay and staring down at the missionary who leaned into the gale on the canting deck.
'For what, sir?' Singleton clasped the borrowed tarpaulins tightly, aware that they were billowing dangerously. In an instant they were as wet with rain and spray as the captain's.
'For the gale!'
'The gale? I am to blame?' Singleton made a grab for a rope as Melusine gave a lee lurch. 'But that is preposterous…'
Drinkwater smiled, Singleton's colour was a singular, pallid green. 'Breathe deeply through the nose, you'll find it revivifying.'
Singleton did as he was bid and a little shudder passed through him. 'That is a ridiculous superstition, Captain Drinkwater. Surely you do not encourage superstition?'
'It don't matter what I think, Mr Singleton. The people believe a parson brings bad weather and you cannot deny it's blowing.'
'It is blowing exceedingly hard, sir.' Singleton looked to windward as a wave top reared above the horizon. Melusine dropped into the trough and it seemed to Singleton that the wave crest, rolling over in an avalanche of foam, would descend onto Melusine's exposed side. Singleton's mouth opened as Melusine felt the sudden lift of the advancing sea imparted to her quarter. The horizon disappeared and Singleton's stomach seemed far beneath the soles of his feet. He gasped with surprise as the breaking crest crashed with a judder against Melusine's spirketting and shot a column of spray into the air. As Melusine felt the full force of the wind on the wave-crest she leaned to leeward and dropped into the next trough. Singleton's stomach seemed to pass his eyes as the wind whipped the spray horizontally over the rail with a spiteful patter. Beside him an apparently heartless Captain Drinkwater raised his speaking trumpet.
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