The Corvette

June 1803 

Drinkwater turned from the stern window and seated himself at the table. He drew the opened journal towards him. The brilliant sunlight that reflected from the sea onto the deckhead of the cabin was again reflected onto his desk and the page before him. He picked up his pen and began to write.

The ships favouring the Spitzbergen grounds left us in latitude 72 ° North and 8° Easily longitude. Among those left under my convoy are Faithful, Capt. Sawyers, and Narwhal, Capt. Harvey. Their appearance much changed as they disdain to shave north of the Arctic Circle. It fell calm the next morning and the air had a crystal purity. Towards evening I detected a curious luminosity to the northward, lying low across the horizon. This the whale-fishers denominate 'ice blink'. Towards midnight, if such it can be described with no need to light the binnacle lamps, a steady breeze got up, whereupon the ships crowded on sail and stood to the northwards. At morning the 'ice-blink' was more pronounced and accompanied by a strange viscid appearance of the sea. There was also an eerie and subtle change in the atmosphere that seemed most detectable by the olfactory senses and yet could not be called a smell. By noon the reason for these strange phenomenae was apparent. A line of ice visible to the north and west. I perceived immediately the advantages of a 'crow's nest'. All are well on board…

He was interrupted by a loud and distant howl. It seemed to come from the hold and reminded Drinkwater of the unfortunate and now insane Macpherson.

… except for the surgeon, whose condition by its very nature, disturbs the peace of the ship.

But it was not Macpherson. The knock at the door was peremptory and Quilhampton's eager face filled with excitement. 'Whales, sir, they've lowered boats in chase!'

'Very well, Mr Q. I'll be up directly.'

At a more sedate pace Drinkwater followed him on deck. He saw the whales almost immediately, three dark humps, moving slowly through the water towards the Melusine. In the calm sea they left a gentle wake trailing astern of their bluff heads, only a few whirls visible from the effort of their mighty tails. One of them humped its back and seemed to accelerate. A fine jet of steamy spray spouted from its spiracle. They crossed Melusine's stern not one hundred feet away, their backs marked by some form of wart-like growths. From the rail Drinkwater could clearly see the sphinctal contractions of the blow-hole as the mighty creature spouted.

The watch, scattered at the rails and in the lower rigging were silent. There was something profoundly awe- inspiring in the progress of the three great humps, as they moved with a ponderous innocence through the plankton-rich water. But then the boats passed in energetic pursuit and Melusine's people began to cheer. Drinkwater marked Sawyers Junior, pulling the bow oar of Faithful's number two boat. He wore a sleeveless jerkin and a small brimmed hat. In the stern stood the boat-steerer, leaning on the long steering oar, the coloured flag attached to a staff with which they signalled their ship fluttered like an ensign.

Drinkwater also noticed Elijah Pucill sweep past in Faithful's number one boat. There were more than a dozen boats engaged in the pursuit now, their crews pulling at their oar looms until they bent, springing from the water to whip back ready for the next stroke. Already the whalers were swinging their yards, to catch what breeze there was and work up in support of their boats.

'Don't impede the whalers, Mr Hill, let them pass before you trim the yards to follow.'

'Aye, aye, sir.'

He looked again at the whales and saw they had disappeared. The boats slowed and Drinkwater watched a few kittiwakes wheel to the south and wondered if they could see the whales. Within a few minutes the boats were under way again, following the kittiwakes. But two boats had veered away at a right angle and Drinkwater noticed with sudden interest that they were from Faithful. He hauled himself up on the rail and, leaning against the mizen backstays, pulled out his Dollond glass.

There was a flurry of activity among the boats to the south. One had struck and its flag was up as the whale began to tow it. The other boats set off in pursuit. Drinkwater swung his glass back towards Sawyers and Pucill. They were no more than eight cables away and Drinkwater could see both men standing up in the bows of their boats while the crews did no more than paddle them steadily forward.

Then there was a faint shout and Drinkwater saw the whale. He saw a harpoon fly and Sawyers's boat steerer throw up the flag. Pucill had dropped his harpoon and jumped back to his oar as Sawyers's boat began to slide forward. A faint cloud of smoke enveloped the harpoon and Drinkwater remembered the bollard and a snaking line. He could see the splash of water from the piggin and then the rushing advance of the whale stopped abruptly and it sounded. Pucill's boat came up alongside Sawyers's and lay on its oars. Through the glass Drinkwater could see Pucill stand up again, both he and Sawyers hefting their lances. They stayed in this position for several minutes, like two sculptures and Drinkwater began to tire of trying to hold the glass steady. He lowered it and rubbed his eye. He was aware now of a cloud of seabirds, gathered as if from nowhere over this spot in the ocean. He could hear their cries and suddenly the whale breached. For a split second he saw its huge, ugly head with its wide, shiny portcullis of a mouth and the splashes of whitened skin beneath the lower lip that curled like a grotesque of a negro's. The lances darted as the boats advanced and there was a splashing of foam and lashing of fins as the head submerged again and the back seemed to roll over. Then the tail emerged, huge, horizontally-fluked and menacing the boats as they back-watered. The crack as it slapped the water sounded like artillery, clearly audible to the watching Melusines. They saw the pale shape of a belly and the brief outline of a fin as the boats closed for the kill. The lances flashed in the sun and the beast seemed to ripple in its death flurry. Then Drinkwater was aware that the sea around the boats was turning red. Mysticetus had given up the ghost.

We passed into open pack ice, Drinkwater wrote, shortly before noon on 13th June 1803, in Latitude 74° 25' North 2° 50' East. We have sighted whales daily and taken many. The masters speak of a good year which pleases me after our previous melancholy expectations. In light winds the watch are much employed in working the ship through the ice. The officers have greatly benefitted from this experience and I have fewer qualms about their abilities than formerly. Mr Q. continues to justify my confidence in him while I find Mr Hill's services as master indispensable. I believe Mr Germaney to be unwell, suffering from some torpor of the spirits. Singleton will say little beyond the fact that he suspects Germaney of suffering from the blue devils, which I conceive to be a piece of nautical conceit upon his part to deceive me as to the real nature of G's complaint.

The people have been exercised at cutlass and small arms drill by Mr Mount and recently, when we had occasion, in the manner of the whale-ships, to moor to a large icefloe, they played a game of football.

There has been a plentiful supply of meat for the table, duck in particular being very fine. Seal and walrus have also been taken. While flensing, the carcases of the whales are frequently attacked by the Greenland Shark, a brown or grey fish some twenty odd feet in length. It is distinguished by a curious appendage from the iris of its eye. It makes good eating.

We have observed some fully developed icebergs. Their shapes are fantastical and almost magical and beggar description. In sunlight their colours range from brilliant white to a blue of…

Drinkwater paused. The strange and awesome sight of his first iceberg had both impressed and disquieted him for some reason that he could not fathom. Then it came to him. That pale ice-cold blue had been the colour of Ellerby's eyes. He shook his head, as though clearing his mind of an unpleasant dream. Ellerby was two hundred and fifty miles to the north-east and could be forgotten. He resumed his journal: …impressive beauty. We have used them as a mark for exercising the guns which delights the people who love to see great lumps of ice flying from their frozen ramparts.

Drinkwater laid down his pen and rubbed his shoulder. Frequent exercise with the foil had undoubtedly eased it, but the cold became penetrating in close promixity to the ice and his shoulder sometimes ached intolerably. Palgrave's decanter beckoned, but he resisted the temptation. Better to divert his mind by a brisk climb to his new- fangled crow's nest. He pulled the greygoe on and stepped out of the cabin. As he came on deck his nostrils quivered to the stimulating effect of the cold air. Swinging himself into the main shrouds he began to ascend the mainmast.

The crow's nest had been built by the carpenter and his mate. It was a deep box, bound with iron and having a trap in its base through which to enter. Inside was a hook for a speaking trumpet and a rest for a long-glass. Turning the seaman on duty out of it from the top gallant mast cross trees, Drinkwater ascended the final few feet