In the Land of the Long White Cloud

quarters, and he knew it would be impossible to sleep outside once they were at sea, when water would be washing over the deck. Once again, the men were laughing at him, though he did not mind so much this time because Copper was obviously on his side.
    “He’s just a polite little lord, our Luke!” he remarked good-naturedly. “He’s just got to get used to it. But just wait till he’s baptized in blubber. He’ll be all right, believe me!”
    Copper commanded great respect from the crew. He was not only a capable ship’s carpenter, but was also considered a first-class whaler.
    His friendship did Lucas good, and the furtive touches Copper seemed to seek on occasion were not unpleasant. Lucas might even have enjoyed them if the hygienic conditions aboard the
Pretty Peg
were not so appalling. There was limited drinking water, and no one even considered wasting it on washing. The men rarely shaved, and they did not own any changes of clothes. After a few nights, the whalers and their lodgings stank worse than the sheep stalls on Kiward Station. Lucas tried washing himself with seawater as a last resort, but it was difficult and drew laughter from the rest of the crew. Though the other men seemed to enjoy the shared company and hardly appeared to notice the stench of their unwashed bodies, Lucas was ashamed of his dirty, flea-bitten condition. He realized it wasn’t necessary, given the state of the others, but he couldn’t help but be bothered by it.
    There was little to do. The ship could have sailed with a much smaller crew, and there would only be work for everyone once the hunt began. As a result, they spent a lot of time in close company. They told stories, exaggerating without compunction, sang dirty songs, and killed time playing cards. Lucas had always disdained poker and blackjack as being ungentlemanly, but he knew the rules, and played to avoid standing out. Unfortunately, he had not inherited his father’stalent for cards. Lucas could not sell a bluff or a poker face. You could look at him and know exactly what he was thinking, which was not an asset when it came to men and gaming. In short order, he had lost what little money he had brought with him from Kiward Station and had to let his losses stand. No doubt there would have been difficulties with the men if Copper had not had his hand on him. The older man fawned over him so explicitly that Lucas was starting to wonder about it. It was not unpleasant, but it was bound to draw attention sooner or later. Lucas still thought with horror of the allusions the shepherds made on Kiward Station when he preferred to be with the younger Dave O’Toole than with the more experienced men. The comments of the whalers on board the
Pretty Peg
stayed within proper limits, however. There were close friendships between other men on the whaler as well, and sometimes at night sounds emanated from the berths that made Lucas blush with embarrassment—but they also aroused feelings of lust and envy within him. Was that what he had dreamed about on Kiward Station and what he had thought about when he tried making love to Gwyneira? Lucas knew that there was a connection, but something within him prevented him from seriously considering love in these surroundings. There was nothing exciting about embracing stinking, unwashed bodies, male or female. The only model he had for his secret yearnings—the Greek ideal of the mentor who took in a handsome boy not only to provide him with love but also to impart wisdom and life experience—had little in common with this scenario.
    If Lucas were honest with himself, he loathed every minute of his stay aboard the
Pretty Peg
. It was impossible for him to imagine spending three years on board, but there was no possibility of dissolving his contract. And the ship would not be docking anywhere for months. Any thought of flight was futile. Lucas could only hope that he would eventually grow accustomed to the cramped quarters, the rough sea, and the stench. The latter proved the easiest. After only a few days, he already felt less revolted by Copper and the others—presumably because he had begun to give off the same odor himself. His seasickness ebbed, and there were days when Lucas retched only once.
    But then came the first hunt, and with that everything changed.

    In an unusual stroke of luck, the
Pretty Peg
’s helmsman spotted a sperm whale just two weeks after setting sail. His excited call awoke the crew, who were still