In the Heart of the Sea

ship headfirst (p. 23).
    In his History, Obed Macy provides a step-by-step description of cutting up (including the removal of the head) and boiling a whale (pp. 220-24). According to Clifford Ashley, early cutting stages were “short fore-and-aft planks hung overside, one forward and one aft of the gangway” ( The Yankee Whaler, p. 97). Just how greasy the deck of a whale-ship could become is indicated by Charles Nordhoff: “The oil washes from one side to the other, as the ship lazily rolls in the seaway, and the safest mode of locomotion is sliding from place to place, on the seat of your pantaloons” (p. 129) ; Nordhoff also describes the stench of the tryworks smoke. Davis et al. speak of ambergris ( In Pursuit of Leviathan, pp. 29-30). According to Obed Macy, “The ambergris is generally discovered by probing the intestines with a long pole” (p. 224). Although whalemen would soon be pioneering the folk art of scrimshaw by carving designs on the teeth of sperm whales, it is highly unlikely that the crew of the Essex in 1819 were saving their whales’ teeth (Stuart Frank, personal communication, July 1999). J. Ross Browne recounts the “murderous appearance” of a whaleship at night (p. 63). William H. Macy gives the description of appropriate “trying-out clothes” (p. 80).
    Richard Henry Dana tells of how a crew’s morale can deteriorate in Two Years Before the Mast (p. 94). For a discussion of the differences in shipboard fare served to those in the cabin and the forecastle, see Sandra Oliver’s Saltwater Foodways (pp. 97-99, 113). Oliver provides the information concerning the average caloric intake of a sailor in the nineteenth century (p. 94). Moses Morrell was the green hand who lamented his gradual starvation aboard a Nantucket whaleship; his journal is at the NHA. If Pollard appears to have overreacted to his men’s complaints about food, it was nothing compared to the response of Captain Worth aboard the Globe: “When any man complained to Captain Worth that he was suffering with hunger, he would tell him to eat iron hoops; and several times gagged the complainants’ mouths with pump-bolts” ( Life of Samuel Comstock, p. 73).

CHAPTER FOUR : The Lees of Fire
    Captain Bligh abandoned his attempt to round Cape Horn after thirty days (the time it took the whaleship Essex to double the Horn); that the decision was made under extreme duress is made clear by Sir John Barrow: “[T]he ship began to complain, and required pumping every hour; the decks became so leaky that the commander was obliged to allot the great cabin to those who had wet berths” (p. 41). David Porter tells of rounding the Horn in his Journal (p. 84). Although the Beaver was the first Nantucket whaleship to enter the Pacific, the Emilia, a British ship captained by James Shield, was the first whaler to round the Horn in 1788 (Slevin, p. 52).
    Captain Swain’s words about the scarcity of whales are cited in Edouard Stackpole’s The Sea-Hunters (p. 266). Obed Macy’s mention of the need for a new whaling ground was recorded on September 28, 1819; his journal also reveals that he followed the political situation in South America closely.
    Robert McNally characterizes the whalemen’s attitude toward whales as a “tub of lard” in So Remorseless a Havoc (p. 172). Charles Nordhoff refers to the old whalemen’s delight in trying out (p. 131), while William H. Macy speaks of how “boiling” inspired thoughts of home (p. 87). The events that occurred on Nantucket in December 1819 are from Obed Macy’s journal. William H. Macy testified to how long it took for mail to reach the Pacific: “[N]ews from home even a year old was heartily welcomed; while the advent of a whaler five or six months out was a perfect windfall” (p. 154). For an account of the discovery of the Offshore Ground, see Stackpole (pp. 266-67).
    Francis Olmsted’s description of the delights of Atacames (pp. 161- 63) includes an interesting account of a chapel: “Down the sides of the altar, the drippings of sperm candles used in the service, had run like the stalactites of some subterranean cavern” (p. 171).
    As far as I know, this is the first time that the name of the deserter, Henry De Witt, has appeared in print. The name is recorded in a crew list that seems to have been written down soon after Pollard left on his subsequent voyage in the fall of 1821 (Pollard is listed as “Capt. Two Brothers”). The list includes all twenty of the