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Published in 1851, Moby Dick was based in part on author Herman Melville’s own experiences on a whaleship. The novel tells the story of Ahab, the captain of a whaling vessel called The Pequod, who has a three-year mission to collect and sell the valuable oil of whales at the behest of the ship’s owners.

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CHAPTER LX. THE LINE

With reference to the whaling scene shortly to be described, as well asfor the better understanding of all similar scenes elsewhere presented,I have here to speak of the magical, sometimes horrible whale-line.
The line originally used in the fishery was of the best hemp, slightlyvapored with tar, not impregnated with it, as in the case of ordinaryropes; for while tar, as ordinarily used, makes the hemp more pliableto the rope-maker, and also renders the rope itself more convenient tothe sailor for common ship use; yet, not only would the ordinaryquantity too much stiffen the whale-line for the close coiling to whichit must be subjected; but as most seamen are beginning to learn, tar ingeneral by no means adds to the rope’s durability or strength, howevermuch it may give it compactness and gloss.
Of late years the Manilla rope has in the American fishery almostentirely superseded hemp as a material for whale-lines; for, though notso durable as hemp, it is stronger, and far more soft and elastic; andI will add (since there is an aesthetics in all things), is much morehandsome and becoming to the boat, than hemp. Hemp is a dusky, darkfellow, a sort of Indian; but Manilla is as a golden-haired Circassianto behold.
The whale line is only two thirds of an inch in thickness. At firstsight, you would not think it so strong as it really is. By experimentits one and fifty yarns will each suspend a weight of one hundred andtwenty pounds; so that the whole rope will bear a strain nearly equalto three tons. In length, the common sperm whale-line measuressomething over two hundred fathoms. Towards the stern of the boat it isspirally coiled away in the tub, not like the worm-pipe of a stillthough, but so as to form one round, cheese-shaped mass of denselybedded “sheaves,” or layers of concentric spiralizations, without anyhollow but the “heart,” or minute vertical tube formed at the axis ofthe cheese. As the least tangle or kink in the coiling would, inrunning out, infallibly take somebody’s arm, leg, or entire body off,the utmost precaution is used in stowing the line in its tub. Someharpooneers will consume almost an entire morning in this business,carrying the line high aloft and then reeving it downwards through ablock towards the tub, so as in the act of coiling to free it from allpossible wrinkles and twists.
In the English boats two tubs are used instead of one; the same linebeing continuously coiled in both tubs. There is some advantage inthis; because these twin-tubs being so small they fit more readily intothe boat, and do not strain it so much; whereas, the American tub,nearly three feet in diameter and of proportionate depth, makes arather bulky freight for a craft whose planks are but one half-inch inthickness; for the bottom of the whale-boat is like critical ice, whichwill bear up a considerable distributed weight, but not very much of aconcentrated one. When the painted canvas cover is clapped on theAmerican line-tub, the boat looks as if it were pulling off with aprodigious great wedding-cake to present to the whales.
Both ends of the line are exposed; the lower end terminating in aneye-splice or loop coming up from the bottom against the side of thetub, and hanging over its edge completely disengaged from everything.This arrangement of the lower end is necessary on two accounts. First:In order to facilitate the fastening to it of an additional line from aneighboring boat, in case the stricken whale should sound so deep as tothreaten to carry off the entire line originally attached to theharpoon. In these instances, the whale of course is shifted like a mugof ale, as it were, from the one boat to the other; though the firstboat always hovers at hand to assist its consort. Second: Thisarrangement is indispensable for common safety’s sake; for were thelower end of the line in any way attached to the boat, and were thewhale then to run the line out to the end almost in a single, smokingminute as he sometimes does, he would not stop there, for the doomedboat would infallibly be dragged down after him into the profundity ofthe sea; and in that case no town-crier would ever find her again.
Before lowering the boat for the chase, the upper end of the line istaken aft from the tub, and passing round the logger-head there, isagain carried forward the entire length of the boat, resting crosswiseupon the loom or handle of every man’s oar, so that it jogs against hiswrist in rowing; and also passing between the men, as they alternatelysit at the opposite gunwales, to the leaded chocks or grooves in theextreme pointed prow of the boat, where a wooden pin or skewer the sizeof a common quill, prevents it from slipping out. From the chocks ithangs in a slight festoon over the bows, and is then passed inside theboat again; and some ten or twenty fathoms (called box-line) beingcoiled upon the box in the bows, it continues its way to the gunwalestill a little further aft, and is then attached to the short-warp—therope which is immediately connected with the harpoon; but previous tothat connexion, the short-warp goes through sundry mystifications tootedious to detail.
Thus the whale-line folds the whole boat in its complicated coils,twisting and writhing around it in almost every direction. All theoarsmen are involved in its perilous contortions; so that to the timideye of the landsman, they seem as Indian jugglers, with the deadliestsnakes sportively festooning their limbs. Nor can any son of mortalwoman, for the first time, seat himself amid those hempen intricacies,and while straining his utmost at the oar, bethink him that at anyunknown instant the harpoon may be darted, and all these horriblecontortions be put in play like ringed lightnings; he cannot be thuscircumstanced without a shudder that makes the very marrow in his bonesto quiver in him like a shaken jelly. Yet habit—strange thing! whatcannot habit accomplish?—Gayer sallies, more merry mirth, better jokes,and brighter repartees, you never heard over your mahogany, than youwill hear over the half-inch white cedar of the whale-boat, when thushung in hangman’s nooses; and, like the six burghers of Calais beforeKing Edward, the six men composing the crew pull into the jaws ofdeath, with a halter around every neck, as you may say.
Perhaps a very little thought will now enable you to account for thoserepeated whaling disasters—some few of which are casually chronicled—ofthis man or that man being taken out of the boat by the line, and lost.For, when the line is darting out, to be seated then in the boat, islike being seated in the midst of the manifold whizzings of asteam-engine in full play, when every flying beam, and shaft, andwheel, is grazing you. It is worse; for you cannot sit motionless inthe heart of these perils, because the boat is rocking like a cradle,and you are pitched one way and the other, without the slightestwarning; and only by a certain self-adjusting buoyancy andsimultaneousness of volition and action, can you escape being made aMazeppa of, and run away with where the all-seeing sun himself couldnever pierce you out.
Again: as the profound calm which only apparently precedes andprophesies of the storm, is perhaps more awful than the storm itself;for, indeed, the calm is but the wrapper and envelope of the storm; andcontains it in itself, as the seemingly harmless rifle holds the fatalpowder, and the ball, and the explosion; so the graceful repose of theline, as it silently serpentines about the oarsmen before being broughtinto actual play—this is a thing which carries more of true terror thanany other aspect of this dangerous affair. But why say more? All menlive enveloped in whale-lines. All are born with halters round theirnecks; but it is only when caught in the swift, sudden turn of death,that mortals realize the silent, subtle, ever-present perils of life.And if you be a philosopher, though seated in the whale-boat, you wouldnot at heart feel one whit more of terror, than though seated beforeyour evening fire with a poker, and not a harpoon, by your side.

CHAPTER LXI. STUBB KILLS A WHALE

If to Starbuck the apparition of the Squid was a thing of portents, toQueequeg it was quite a different object.
“When you see him ’quid,” said the savage, honing his harpoon in thebow of his hoisted boat, “then you quick see him ’parm whale.”
The next day was exceedingly still and sultry, and with nothing specialto engage them, the Pequod’s crew could hardly resist the spell ofsleep induced by such a vacant sea. For this part of the Indian Oceanthrough which we then were voyaging is not what whalemen call a livelyground; that is, it affords fewer glimpses of porpoises, dolphins,flying-fish, and other vivacious denizens of more stirring waters, thanthose off the Rio de la Plata, or the in-shore ground off Peru.
It was my turn to stand at the foremast-head; and with my shouldersleaning against the slackened royal shrouds, to and fro I idly swayedin what seemed an enchanted air. No resolution could withstand it; inthat dreamy mood losing all consciousness, at last my soul went out ofmy body; though my body still continued to sway as a pendulum will,long after the power which first moved it is withdrawn.
Ere forgetfulness altogether came over me, I had noticed that theseamen at the main and mizen mast-heads were already drowsy. So that atlast all three of us lifelessly swung from the spars, and for everyswing that we made there was a nod from below from the slumberinghelmsman. The waves, too, nodded their indolent crests; and across thewide trance of the sea, east nodded to west, and the sun over all.
Suddenly bubbles seemed bursting beneath my closed eyes; like vices myhands grasped the shrouds; some invisible, gracious agency preservedme; with a shock I came back to life. And lo! close under our lee, notforty fathoms off, a gigantic Sperm Whale lay rolling in the water likethe capsized hull of a frigate, his broad, glossy back, of an Ethiopianhue, glistening in the sun’s rays like a mirror. But lazily undulatingin the trough of the sea, and ever and anon tranquilly spouting hisvapory jet, the whale looked like a portly burgher smoking his pipe ofa warm afternoon. But that pipe, poor whale, was thy last. As if struckby some enchanter’s wand, the sleepy ship and every sleeper in it allat once started into wakefulness; and more than a score of voices fromall parts of the vessel, simultaneously with the three notes fromaloft, shouted forth the accustomed cry, as the great fish slowly andregularly spouted the sparkling brine into the air.
“Clear away the boats! Luff!” cried Ahab. And obeying his own order, hedashed the helm down before the helmsman could handle the spokes.
The sudden exclamations of the crew must have alarmed the whale; andere the boats were down, majestically turning, he swam away to theleeward, but with such a steady tranquillity, and making so few ripplesas he swam, that thinking after all he might not as yet be alarmed,Ahab gave orders that not an oar should be used, and no man must speakbut in whispers. So seated like Ontario Indians on the gunwales of theboats, we swiftly but silently paddled along; the calm not admitting ofthe noiseless sails being set. Presently, as we thus glided in chase,the monster perpendicularly flitted his tail forty feet into the air,and then sank out of sight like a tower swallowed up.
“There go flukes!” was the cry, an announcement immediately followed byStubb’s producing his match and igniting his pipe, for now a respitewas granted. After the full interval of his sounding had elapsed, thewhale rose again, and being now in advance of the smoker’s boat, andmuch nearer to it than to any of the others, Stubb counted upon thehonor of the capture. It was obvious, now, that the whale had at lengthbecome aware of his pursuers. All silence of cautiousness was thereforeno longer of use. Paddles were dropped, and oars came loudly into play.And still puffing at his pipe, Stubb cheered on his crew to theassault.
Yes, a mighty change had come over the fish. All alive to his jeopardy,he was going head out; that part obliquely projecting from the madyeast which he brewed.
It will be seen in some other place of what a very light substance the entire interior of the sperm whale’s enormous head consists. Though apparently the most massive, it is by far the most buoyant part about him. So that with ease he elevates it in the air, and invariably does so when going at his utmost speed. Besides, such is the breadth of the upper part of the front of his head, and such the tapering cut-water formation of the lower part, that by obliquely elevating his head, he thereby may be said to transform himself from a bluff-bowed sluggish galliot into a sharp-pointed New York pilot-boat.
“Start her, start her, my men! Don’t hurry yourselves; take plenty oftime—but start her; start her like thunder-claps, that’s all,” criedStubb, spluttering out the smoke as he spoke. “Start her, now; give ’emthe long and strong stroke, Tashtego. Start her, Tash, my boy—starther, all; but keep cool, keep cool—cucumbers is the word—easy,easy—only start her like grim death and grinning devils, and raise theburied dead perpendicular out of their graves, boys—that’s all. Starther!”
“Woo-hoo! Wa-hee!” screamed the Gay-Header in reply, raising some oldwar-whoop to the skies; as every oarsman in the strained boatinvoluntarily bounced forward with the one tremendous leading strokewhich the eager Indian gave.
But his wild screams were answered by others quite as wild. “Kee-hee!Kee-hee!” yelled Daggoo, straining forwards and backwards on his seat,like a pacing tiger in his cage.
“Ka-la! Koo-loo!” howled Queequeg, as if smacking his lips over amouthful of Grenadier’s steak. And thus with oars and yells the keelscut the sea. Meanwhile, Stubb retaining his place in the van, stillencouraged his men to the onset, all the while puffing the smoke fromhis mouth. Like desperadoes they tugged and they strained, till thewelcome cry was heard—“Stand up, Tashtego!—give it to him!” The harpoonwas hurled. “Stern all!” The oarsmen backed water; the same momentsomething went hot and hissing along every one of their wrists. It wasthe magical line. An instant before, Stubb had swiftly caught twoadditional turns with it round the loggerhead, whence, by reason of itsincreased rapid circlings, a hempen blue smoke now jetted up andmingled with the steady fumes from his pipe. As the line passed roundand round the loggerhead; so also, just before reaching that point, itblisteringly passed through and through both of Stubb’s hands, fromwhich the hand-cloths, or squares of quilted canvas sometimes worn atthese times, had accidentally dropped. It was like holding an enemy’ssharp two-edged sword by the blade, and that enemy all the timestriving to wrest it out of your clutch.
“Wet the line! wet the line!” cried Stubb to the tub oarsman (himseated by the tub) who, snatching off his hat, dashed the sea-waterinto it. More turns were taken, so that the line began holding itsplace. The boat now flew through the boiling water like a shark allfins. Stubb and Tashtego here changed places—stem for stern—astaggering business truly in that rocking commotion.
Partly to show the indispensableness of this act, it may here be stated, that, in the old Dutch fishery, a mop was used to dash the running line with water; in many other ships, a wooden piggin, or bailer, is set apart for that purpose. Your hat, however, is the most convenient.
From the vibrating line extending the entire length of the upper partof the boat, and from its now being more tight than a harpstring, youwould have thought the craft had two keels—one cleaving the water, theother the air—as the boat churned on through both opposing elements atonce. A continual cascade played at the bows; a ceaseless whirling eddyin her wake; and, at the slightest motion from within, even but of alittle finger, the vibrating, cracking craft canted over her spasmodicgunwale into the sea. Thus they rushed; each man with might and mainclinging to his seat, to prevent being tossed to the foam; and the tallform of Tashtego at the steering oar crouching almost double, in orderto bring down his centre of gravity. Whole Atlantics and Pacificsseemed passed as they shot on their way, till at length the whalesomewhat slackened his flight.
“Haul in—haul in!” cried Stubb to the bowsman! and, facing roundtowards the whale, all hands began pulling the boat up to him, whileyet the boat was being towed on. Soon ranging up by his flank, Stubb,firmly planting his knee in the clumsy cleat, darted dart after dartinto the flying fish; at the word of command, the boat alternatelysterning out of the way of the whale’s horrible wallow, and thenranging up for another fling.
The red tide now poured from all sides of the monster like brooks downa hill. His tormented body rolled not in brine but in blood, whichbubbled and seethed for furlongs behind in their wake. The slanting sunplaying upon this crimson pond in the sea, sent back its reflectioninto every face, so that they all glowed to each other like red men.And all the while, jet after jet of white smoke was agonizingly shotfrom the spiracle of the whale, and vehement puff after puff from themouth of the excited headsman; as at every dart, hauling in upon hiscrooked lance (by the line attached to it), Stubb straightened it againand again, by a few rapid blows against the gunwale, then again andagain sent it into the whale.
“Pull up—pull up!” he now cried to the bowsman, as the waning whalerelaxed in his wrath. “Pull up!—close to!” and the boat ranged alongthe fish’s flank. When reaching far over the bow, Stubb slowly churnedhis long sharp lance into the fish, and kept it there, carefullychurning and churning, as if cautiously seeking to feel after some goldwatch that the whale might have swallowed, and which he was fearful ofbreaking ere he could hook it out. But that gold watch he sought wasthe innermost life of the fish. And now it is struck; for, startingfrom his trance into that unspeakable thing called his “flurry,” themonster horribly wallowed in his blood, over-wrapped himself inimpenetrable, mad, boiling spray, so that the imperilled craft,instantly dropping astern, had much ado blindly to struggle out fromthat phrensied twilight into the clear air of the day.
And now abating in his flurry, the whale once more rolled out intoview; surging from side to side; spasmodically dilating and contractinghis spout-hole, with sharp, cracking, agonized respirations. At last,gush after gush of clotted red gore, as if it had been the purple leesof red wine, shot into the frighted air; and falling back again, randripping down his motionless flanks into the sea. His heart had burst!
“He’s dead, Mr. Stubb,” said Daggoo.
“Yes; both pipes smoked out!” and withdrawing his own from his mouth,Stubb scattered the dead ashes over the water; and, for a moment, stoodthoughtfully eyeing the vast corpse he had made.

CHAPTER LXII. THE DART

A word concerning an incident in the last chapter.
According to the invariable usage of the fishery, the whale-boat pushesoff from the ship, with the headsman or whale-killer as temporarysteersman, and the harpooneer or whale-fastener pulling the foremostoar, the one known as the harpooneer-oar. Now it needs a strong,nervous arm to strike the first iron into the fish; for often, in whatis called a long dart, the heavy implement has to be flung to thedistance of twenty or thirty feet. But however prolonged and exhaustingthe chase, the harpooneer is expected to pull his oar meanwhile to theuttermost; indeed, he is expected to set an example of superhumanactivity to the rest, not only by incredible rowing, but by repeatedloud and intrepid exclamations; and what it is to keep shouting at thetop of one’s compass, while all the other muscles are strained and halfstarted—what that is none know but those who have tried it. For one, Icannot bawl very heartily and work very recklessly at one and the sametime. In this straining, bawling state, then, with his back to thefish, all at once the exhausted harpooneer hears the excitingcry—“Stand up, and give it to him!” He now has to drop and secure hisoar, turn round on his centre half way, seize his harpoon from thecrotch, and with what little strength may remain, he essays to pitch itsomehow into the whale. No wonder, taking the whole fleet of whalemenin a body, that out of fifty fair chances for a dart, not five aresuccessful; no wonder that so many hapless harpooneers are madly cursedand disrated; no wonder that some of them actually burst theirblood-vessels in the boat; no wonder that some sperm whalemen areabsent four years with four barrels; no wonder that to many shipowners, whaling is but a losing concern; for it is the harpooneer thatmakes the voyage, and if you take the breath out of his body how canyou expect to find it there when most wanted!
Again, if the dart be successful, then at the second critical instant,that is, when the whale starts to run, the boat-header and harpooneerlikewise start to running fore and aft, to the imminent jeopardy ofthemselves and every one else. It is then they change places; and theheadsman, the chief officer of the little craft, takes his properstation in the bows of the boat.
Now, I care not who maintains the contrary, but all this is bothfoolish and unnecessary. The headsman should stay in the bows fromfirst to last; he should both dart the harpoon and the lance, and norowing whatever should be expected of him, except under circumstancesobvious to any fisherman. I know that this would sometimes involve aslight loss of speed in the chase; but long experience in variouswhalemen of more than one nation has convinced me that in the vastmajority of failures in the fishery, it has not by any means been somuch the speed of the whale as the before described exhaustion of theharpooneer that has caused them.
To insure the greatest efficiency in the dart, the harpooneers of thisworld must start to their feet from out of idleness, and not from outof toil.

CHAPTER LXIII. THE CROTCH

Out of the trunk, the branches grow; out of them, the twigs. So, inproductive subjects, grow the chapters.
The crotch alluded to on a previous page deserves independent mention.It is a notched stick of a peculiar form, some two feet in length,which is perpendicularly inserted into the starboard gunwale near thebow, for the purpose of furnishing a rest for the wooden extremity ofthe harpoon, whose other naked, barbed end slopingly projects from theprow. Thereby the weapon is instantly at hand to its hurler, whosnatches it up as readily from its rest as a backwoodsman swings hisrifle from the wall. It is customary to have two harpoons reposing inthe crotch, respectively called the first and second irons.
But these two harpoons, each by its own cord, are both connected withthe line; the object being this: to dart them both, if possible, oneinstantly after the other into the same whale; so that if, in thecoming drag, one should draw out, the other may still retain a hold. Itis a doubling of the chances. But it very often happens that owing tothe instantaneous, violent, convulsive running of the whale uponreceiving the first iron, it becomes impossible for the harpooneer,however lightning-like in his movements, to pitch the second iron intohim. Nevertheless, as the second iron is already connected with theline, and the line is running, hence that weapon must, at all events,be anticipatingly tossed out of the boat, somehow and somewhere; elsethe most terrible jeopardy would involve all hands. Tumbled into thewater, it accordingly is in such cases; the spare coils of box line(mentioned in a preceding chapter) making this feat, in most instances,prudently practicable. But this critical act is not always unattendedwith the saddest and most fatal casualties.
Furthermore: you must know that when the second iron is thrownoverboard, it thenceforth becomes a dangling, sharp-edged terror,skittishly curvetting about both boat and whale, entangling the lines,or cutting them, and making a prodigious sensation in all directions.Nor, in general, is it possible to secure it again until the whale isfairly captured and a corpse.
Consider, now, how it must be in the case of four boats all engagingone unusually strong, active, and knowing whale; when owing to thesequalities in him, as well as to the thousand concurring accidents ofsuch an audacious enterprise, eight or ten loose second irons may besimultaneously dangling about him. For, of course, each boat issupplied with several harpoons to bend on to the line should the firstone be ineffectually darted without recovery. All these particulars arefaithfully narrated here, as they will not fail to elucidate severalmost important, however intricate passages, in scenes hereafter to bepainted.