We weighed at last, one morning, with a beautiful breeze, and, bidding a long farewell to the lovely isles and their amiable inhabitants, stood at sea, bound for the "line" or equatorial grounds on our legitimate business of sperm whaling.It was now a long while since we had been in contact with a cachalot, the last one having been killed by us on the Coast of Japan some six months before.But we all looked forward to the coming campaign with considerable joy, for we were now a happy family, interested in the work, and, best of all, even if the time was still distant, we were, in a sense, homeward bound.At any rate, we all chose so to think, from the circumstance that we were now working to the southward, towards Cape Horn, the rounding of which dreaded point would mark the final stage of our globe-encircling voyage.
We had, during our stay at Honolulu, obtained a couple of grand boats in addition to our stock, and were now in a position to man and lower five at once, if occasion should arise, still leaving sufficient crew on board to work the vessel.The captain had also engaged an elderly seaman of his acquaintance--out of pure philanthropy, as we all thought, since he was in a state of semi-starvation ashore--to act as a kind of sailing-master, so as to relieve the captain of ship duty at whaling time, allowing him still to head his boat.This was not altogether welcome news to me, for, much as I liked the old man and admired his pluck, Icould not help dreading his utter recklessness when on a whale, which had so often led to a smash-up that might have been easily avoided.Moreover, I reasoned that if he had been foolhardy before, he was likely to be much more so now, having no superior to look black or use language when a disaster occurred.For now I was his harpooner, bound to take as many risks as be chose to incur, and anxious also to earn a reputation among the more seasoned whalemen for smartness sufficient to justify my promotion.
The Kanakas shipped at Honolulu were distributed among the boats, two to each, being already trained whalemen, and a fine lot of fellows they were.My two--Samuela and Polly--were not very big men, but sturdy, nimble as cats, as much at home in the water as on deck, and simply bubbling over with fun and good-humour, From my earliest sea-going, I have always had a strong liking for natives of tropical countries, finding them affectionate and amenable to kindness.Why, I think, white men do not get on with darkies well, as a rule, is, that they seldom make an appeal to the MAN, in them.It is very degrading to find one's self looked down upon as a sort of animal without reason or feelings; and if you degrade a man, you deprive him of any incentive to make himself useful, except the brute one you may feel bound to apply yourself.My experience has been limited to Africans (of sorts), Kanakas, natives of Hindostan, Malagasy, and Chinese; but with all these I have found a little COMARADERIE answer excellently.
True, they are lazy; but what inducement have they to work? The complicated needs of our civilized existence compel US to work, or be run over by the unresting machine; but I take leave to doubt whether any of us with a primitive environment would not be as lazy as any Kanaka that ever dozed under a banana tree through daylight hours.Why, then, make an exalted virtue of the necessity which drives us, and objurgate the poor black man because he prefers present ease to a doubtful prospective retirement on a competency? Australian blackfellows and Malays are said to be impervious to kind treatment by a great number of witnesses, the former appearing incapable of gratitude, and the latter unable to resist the frequent temptation to kill somebody.
Not knowing anything personally of either of these races, I can say nothing for or against them.
All the coloured individuals that I have had to do with have amply repaid any little kindness shown them with fidelity and affection, but especially has this been the case with Kanakas, The soft and melodious language spoken by them is easy to acquire, and is so pleasant to speak that it is well worth learning, to say nothing of the convenience to yourself, although the Kanaka speedily picks up the mutilated jargon which does duty for English on board ship.
What I specially longed for now was a harpooner, or even two, so that I might have my boat to myself, the captain taking his own boat with a settled harpooner.Samuela, the biggest of my two Kanakas, very earnestly informed me that he was no end of a "number one" whale slaughterer; but I judged it best to see how things went before asking to have him promoted.My chance, and his, came very promptly; so nicely arranged, too, that I could not have wished for anything better.The skipper had got a fine, healthy boil on one knee-cap, and another on his wrist, so that he was, as you may say, HORS DE COMBAT.While he was impatiently waiting to get about once more, sperm whales were raised.
Although nearly frantic with annoyance, he was compelled to leave the direction of things to Mr.Cruce, who was quite puffed up with the importance of his opportunity.
Such a nice little school of cow-whales, a lovely breeze, clear sky, warm weather--I felt as gay as a lark at the prospect.As we were reaching to windward, with all boats ready for lowering, the skipper called me aft and said, "Naow, Mr.Bullen, I cain't lower, because of this condemned leg'n arm of mine; but how'r yew goin' ter manage 'thout a harpooneer?" I suggested that if he would allow me to try Samuela, who was suffering for a chance to distinguish himself, we would "come out on top." "All right," he said; "but let the other boats get fast first, 'n doan be in too much of a hurry to tie yerself up till ya see what's doin'.If everythin's goin' bizness-fashion', 'n yew git a chance, sail right in; yew got ter begin some time.But ef thet Kanaka looks skeered goin' on, take the iron frum him ter onct." I promised, and the interview ended.
