The Needle

Next morning the not-yet-subsided sea rolled in long slow billows of mighty bulk, and striving in the Pequod’s gurgling track, pushed her on like giants’ palms outspread. The strong, unstaggering breeze abounded so, that sky and air seemed vast outbellying sails; the whole world boomed before the wind. Muffled in the full morning light, the invisible sun was only known by the spread intensity of his place; where his bayonet rays moved on in stacks. Emblazonings, as of crowned Babylonian kings and queens, reigned over everything. The sea was as a crucible of molten gold, that bubblingly leaps with light and heat.

The next morning, the sea had not yet settled. Huge waves rolled in long, slow swells, surging along the Pequod’s gurgling wake. They pushed the ship forward like the outspread palms of giants. The strong, steady wind was so plentiful that the sky and air seemed like vast, billowing sails. The whole world boomed before the wind. Veiled by the full morning light, the sun was invisible. Only the intense glow spreading from its place revealed it, as its bayonet-like rays moved forward in ranks. Splendor like that of crowned Babylonian kings and queens reigned over everything. The sea was like a crucible of molten gold, bubbling and leaping with light and heat.

Long maintaining an enchanted silence, Ahab stood apart; and every time the tetering ship loweringly pitched down her bowsprit, he turned to eye the bright sun’s rays produced ahead; and when she profoundly settled by the stern, he turned behind, and saw the sun’s rearward place, and how the same yellow rays were blending with his undeviating wake.

Ahab stood apart in a long, enchanted silence. Each time the swaying ship dipped its bowsprit, he turned to watch the bright sun’s rays stretch out ahead. When the stern sank deep, he turned and looked behind him. He saw the sun’s position behind the ship and its yellow rays blending with the ship’s straight wake.

“Ha, ha, my ship! thou mightest well be taken now for the sea-chariot of the sun. Ho, ho! all ye nations before my prow, I bring the sun to ye! Yoke on the further billows; hallo! a tandem, I drive the sea!”

“Ha, ha, my ship! You could be mistaken now for the sun’s chariot on the sea. Ho, ho! All you nations before my bow, I bring you the sun! Harness the waves farther out. Hallo! With waves in tandem, I drive the sea!”

But suddenly reined back by some counter thought, he hurried towards the helm, huskily demanding how the ship was heading.

But suddenly, another thought made him stop. He hurried to the helm and demanded in a hoarse voice to know which way the ship was heading.

“East-sou-east, sir,” said the frightened steersman.

“East-southeast, sir,” said the frightened helmsman.

“Thou liest!” smiting him with his clenched fist. “Heading East at this hour in the morning, and the sun astern?”

“You’re lying!” He struck him with his clenched fist. “Heading east at this hour in the morning, with the sun behind us?”

Upon this every soul was confounded; for the phenomenon just then observed by Ahab had unaccountably escaped every one else; but its very blinding palpableness must have been the cause.

At this, everyone was confused. For some unexplained reason, everyone else had missed the phenomenon Ahab had just noticed. But its blinding obviousness must have been the reason.

Thrusting his head half way into the binnacle, Ahab caught one glimpse of the compasses; his uplifted arm slowly fell; for a moment he almost seemed to stagger. Standing behind him Starbuck looked, and lo! the two compasses pointed East, and the Pequod was as infallibly going West.

Ahab pushed his head halfway into the binnacle and glanced at the compasses. His raised arm slowly fell. For a moment, he almost seemed to stagger. Starbuck looked from behind him and saw that both compasses pointed east, while the Pequod was unquestionably sailing west.

But ere the first wild alarm could get out abroad among the crew, the old man with a rigid laugh exclaimed, “I have it! It has happened before. Mr. Starbuck, last night’s thunder turned our compasses—that’s all. Thou hast before now heard of such a thing, I take it.”

But before the first wild alarm could spread among the crew, the old man gave a stiff laugh and exclaimed, “I have it! It has happened before. Mr. Starbuck, last night’s thunder turned our compasses. That’s all. I suppose you’ve heard of such a thing before.”

“Aye; but never before has it happened to me, sir,” said the pale mate, gloomily.

“Yes, but it has never happened to me before, sir,” said the pale mate gloomily.

Here, it must needs be said, that accidents like this have in more than one case occurred to ships in violent storms. The magnetic energy, as developed in the mariner’s needle, is, as all know, essentially one with the electricity beheld in heaven; hence it is not to be much marvelled at, that such things should be. Instances where the lightning has actually struck the vessel, so as to smite down some of the spars and rigging, the effect upon the needle has at times been still more fatal; all its loadstone virtue being annihilated, so that the before magnetic steel was of no more use than an old wife’s knitting needle. But in either case, the needle never again, of itself, recovers the original virtue thus marred or lost; and if the binnacle compasses be affected, the same fate reaches all the others that may be in the ship; even were the lowermost one inserted into the kelson.

Here, it must be said that accidents like this have happened to ships in violent storms more than once. As everyone knows, the magnetism in a mariner’s compass needle is essentially the same as the electricity seen in the sky. So it is not very surprising that such things happen. In some cases, lightning has actually struck a ship, knocking down spars and rigging. At times, the effect on the needle has been even more fatal. Its magnetic power has been completely destroyed, leaving the once-magnetic steel no more useful than an old woman’s knitting needle. But in either case, the needle never regains its damaged or lost power on its own. If the compasses in the binnacle are affected, the same fate reaches every other compass on the ship, even one set into the keelson at the very bottom.

Deliberately standing before the binnacle, and eyeing the transpointed compasses, the old man, with the sharp of his extended hand, now took the precise bearing of the sun, and satisfied that the needles were exactly inverted, shouted out his orders for the ship’s course to be changed accordingly. The yards were hard up; and once more the Pequod thrust her undaunted bows into the opposing wind, for the supposed fair one had only been juggling her.

The old man stood deliberately before the binnacle and studied the compasses, whose points had been shifted. Using the edge of his outstretched hand, he took the sun’s exact bearing. Satisfied that the needles pointed exactly opposite their true direction, he shouted orders to change the ship’s course accordingly. The yards were hauled hard up, and once again the Pequod thrust her fearless bows into the opposing wind. The wind that had seemed favorable had only been playing tricks on her.

Meanwhile, whatever were his own secret thoughts, Starbuck said nothing, but quietly he issued all requisite orders; while Stubb and Flask—who in some small degree seemed then to be sharing his feelings—likewise unmurmuringly acquiesced. As for the men, though some of them lowly rumbled, their fear of Ahab was greater than their fear of Fate. But as ever before, the pagan harpooneers remained almost wholly unimpressed; or if impressed, it was only with a certain magnetism shot into their congenial hearts from inflexible Ahab’s.

Meanwhile, whatever his private thoughts, Starbuck said nothing and quietly gave all the necessary orders. Stubb and Flask seemed to share his feelings to some small degree. They too went along without complaint. Some of the men grumbled quietly, but they feared Ahab more than Fate. As always, the pagan harpooneers remained almost entirely unmoved. If they were moved, it was only by a certain magnetism that passed from Ahab’s unyielding heart into their kindred hearts.

For a space the old man walked the deck in rolling reveries. But chancing to slip with his ivory heel, he saw the crushed copper sight-tubes of the quadrant he had the day before dashed to the deck.

For a while, the old man walked the deck, lost in rolling thoughts. But when his ivory heel slipped, he saw the crushed copper sight tubes of his quadrant. He had smashed the quadrant against the deck the day before.

“Thou poor, proud heaven-gazer and sun’s pilot! yesterday I wrecked thee, and to-day the compasses would fain have wrecked me. So, so. But Ahab is lord over the level loadstone yet. Mr. Starbuck—a lance without a pole; a top-maul, and the smallest of the sail-maker’s needles. Quick!”

“Poor, proud sky-gazer and guide of the sun! Yesterday I wrecked you, and today the compasses would have wrecked me. So, so. But Ahab is still master of the compass. Mr. Starbuck, a lance without a shaft, a top-maul, and the smallest sailmaker’s needle. Quick!”

Accessory, perhaps, to the impulse dictating the thing he was now about to do, were certain prudential motives, whose object might have been to revive the spirits of his crew by a stroke of his subtile skill, in a matter so wondrous as that of the inverted compasses. Besides, the old man well knew that to steer by transpointed needles, though clumsily practicable, was not a thing to be passed over by superstitious sailors, without some shudderings and evil portents.

Practical concerns may also have contributed to the impulse behind what he was about to do. He may have hoped to lift his crew’s spirits by showing his subtle skill in dealing with the astonishing inverted compasses. Besides, the old man knew well that steering by reversed compass needles, though awkwardly possible, would trouble superstitious sailors. They would shudder and see the reversed needles as evil omens.

“Men,” said he, steadily turning upon the crew, as the mate handed him the things he had demanded, “my men, the thunder turned old Ahab’s needles; but out of this bit of steel Ahab can make one of his own, that will point as true as any.”

“Men,” he said, turning steadily toward the crew as the mate handed him what he had asked for. “My men, the thunder turned old Ahab’s needles. But Ahab can make a needle of his own from this bit of steel, and it will point as true as any.”

Abashed glances of servile wonder were exchanged by the sailors, as this was said; and with fascinated eyes they awaited whatever magic might follow. But Starbuck looked away.

As these words were spoken, the sailors exchanged timid, awestruck glances. They waited, fascinated, to see what magic might follow. But Starbuck looked away.

With a blow from the top-maul Ahab knocked off the steel head of the lance, and then handing to the mate the long iron rod remaining, bade him hold it upright, without its touching the deck. Then, with the maul, after repeatedly smiting the upper end of this iron rod, he placed the blunted needle endwise on the top of it, and less strongly hammered that, several times, the mate still holding the rod as before. Then going through some small strange motions with it—whether indispensable to the magnetizing of the steel, or merely intended to augment the awe of the crew, is uncertain—he called for linen thread; and moving to the binnacle, slipped out the two reversed needles there, and horizontally suspended the sail-needle by its middle, over one of the compass-cards. At first, the steel went round and round, quivering and vibrating at either end; but at last it settled to its place, when Ahab, who had been intently watching for this result, stepped frankly back from the binnacle, and pointing his stretched arm towards it, exclaimed,—“Look ye, for yourselves, if Ahab be not lord of the level loadstone! The sun is East, and that compass swears it!”

With a blow from the top-maul, Ahab knocked the steel head off the lance. He handed the remaining long iron rod to the mate and told him to hold it upright without touching the deck. Ahab then struck the upper end of the rod repeatedly with the maul. He placed the blunted needle lengthwise on top of the rod and tapped it several times, more lightly. The mate continued to hold the rod as before. Ahab then made some small, strange motions with the needle. It is uncertain whether these were essential to magnetizing the steel or merely meant to increase the crew’s awe. He called for linen thread and moved to the binnacle. There he slipped out the two reversed needles and hung the sail-needle horizontally by its middle over one of the compass cards. At first, the steel needle spun around, quivering and vibrating at both ends. But at last it settled into place. Ahab had been watching intently for this result. He stepped openly back from the binnacle, pointed toward it with his arm outstretched, and exclaimed, “Look for yourselves, and see if Ahab is not lord of the level loadstone! The sun is East, and that compass swears it!”

One after another they peered in, for nothing but their own eyes could persuade such ignorance as theirs, and one after another they slunk away.

One by one, they peered in. In their ignorance, they would believe only what they saw with their own eyes. One by one, they slunk away.

In his fiery eyes of scorn and triumph, you then saw Ahab in all his fatal pride.

In his fiery eyes, filled with contempt and triumph, you could see Ahab in all his doomed pride.