Speculations

Though, consumed with the hot fire of his purpose, Ahab in all his thoughts and actions ever had in view the ultimate capture of Moby Dick; though he seemed ready to sacrifice all mortal interests to that one passion; nevertheless it may have been that he was by nature and long habituation far too wedded to a fiery whaleman’s ways, altogether to abandon the collateral prosecution of the voyage. Or at least if this were otherwise, there were not wanting other motives much more influential with him. It would be refining too much, perhaps, even considering his monomania, to hint that his vindictiveness towards the White Whale might have possibly extended itself in some degree to all sperm whales, and that the more monsters he slew by so much the more he multiplied the chances that each subsequently encountered whale would prove to be the hated one he hunted. But if such an hypothesis be indeed exceptionable, there were still additional considerations which, though not so strictly according with the wildness of his ruling passion, yet were by no means incapable of swaying him.

Burning with purpose, Ahab always had the ultimate capture of Moby Dick in mind, whatever he thought or did. He seemed ready to sacrifice every earthly interest to that one passion. Nevertheless, by nature and long habit, he may have been too devoted to the fiery ways of a whaleman to abandon the rest of the voyage’s work. Or, if that was not the case, he had other, much stronger motives. Perhaps it would be too far-fetched, even given his obsession, to suggest that his hatred of the White Whale extended somewhat to all sperm whales. It would also be far-fetched to suggest that each monster he killed increased the chances that the next whale he met would be the hated one he hunted. But even if that theory is unsound, other considerations could still have influenced him. They were less in keeping with the wildness of his ruling passion, but they were by no means incapable of swaying him.

To accomplish his object Ahab must use tools; and of all tools used in the shadow of the moon, men are most apt to get out of order. He knew, for example, that however magnetic his ascendency in some respects was over Starbuck, yet that ascendency did not cover the complete spiritual man any more than mere corporeal superiority involves intellectual mastership; for to the purely spiritual, the intellectual but stand in a sort of corporeal relation. Starbuck’s body and Starbuck’s coerced will were Ahab’s, so long as Ahab kept his magnet at Starbuck’s brain; still he knew that for all this the chief mate, in his soul, abhorred his captain’s quest, and could he, would joyfully disintegrate himself from it, or even frustrate it. It might be that a long interval would elapse ere the White Whale was seen. During that long interval Starbuck would ever be apt to fall into open relapses of rebellion against his captain’s leadership, unless some ordinary, prudential, circumstantial influences were brought to bear upon him. Not only that, but the subtle insanity of Ahab respecting Moby Dick was noways more significantly manifested than in his superlative sense and shrewdness in foreseeing that, for the present, the hunt should in some way be stripped of that strange imaginative impiousness which naturally invested it; that the full terror of the voyage must be kept withdrawn into the obscure background (for few men’s courage is proof against protracted meditation unrelieved by action); that when they stood their long night watches, his officers and men must have some nearer things to think of than Moby Dick. For however eagerly and impetuously the savage crew had hailed the announcement of his quest; yet all sailors of all sorts are more or less capricious and unreliable—they live in the varying outer weather, and they inhale its fickleness—and when retained for any object remote and blank in the pursuit, however promissory of life and passion in the end, it is above all things requisite that temporary interests and employments should intervene and hold them healthily suspended for the final dash.

To achieve his goal, Ahab needed tools. And of all the tools used beneath the moon, men are the most likely to go wrong. He knew, for example, that his magnetic hold over Starbuck was strong in some respects. Yet his hold did not reach the whole of Starbuck’s spirit, any more than physical superiority makes one person intellectually superior. For the intellect stands in a kind of physical relation to the purely spiritual. Starbuck’s body and his forced obedience belonged to Ahab, as long as Ahab kept his magnet fixed on Starbuck’s brain. Even so, Ahab knew that the chief mate hated his captain’s quest in his soul. If he could, Starbuck would gladly free himself from it, or even thwart it. A long time might pass before the White Whale was sighted. During that time, Starbuck would be liable to rebel openly against his captain’s leadership again and again. To prevent this, Ahab would have to bring ordinary, practical pressures to bear on him. But there was more. Ahab’s subtle madness concerning Moby Dick showed itself most clearly in his extraordinary good sense and shrewdness. He foresaw that, for the present, he must somehow strip the hunt of its natural aura of strange, imagined wickedness. He must keep the full terror of the voyage hidden in the shadows. Few men have courage enough to dwell on terror for long without action to relieve their thoughts. During their long night watches, his officers and men needed nearer things to think about than Moby Dick. The savage crew had greeted the announcement of his quest eagerly and passionately. Yet sailors of all kinds are more or less changeable and unreliable. They live in the shifting weather and breathe in its fickleness. When they are kept at a pursuit that is remote and empty along the way, temporary interests and work are essential. These must keep them occupied and in good spirits until the final rush, however much life and passion the end promises.

Nor was Ahab unmindful of another thing. In times of strong emotion mankind disdain all base considerations; but such times are evanescent. The permanent constitutional condition of the manufactured man, thought Ahab, is sordidness. Granting that the White Whale fully incites the hearts of this my savage crew, and playing round their savageness even breeds a certain generous knight-errantism in them, still, while for the love of it they give chase to Moby Dick, they must also have food for their more common, daily appetites. For even the high lifted and chivalric Crusaders of old times were not content to traverse two thousand miles of land to fight for their holy sepulchre, without committing burglaries, picking pockets, and gaining other pious perquisites by the way. Had they been strictly held to their one final and romantic object—that final and romantic object, too many would have turned from in disgust. I will not strip these men, thought Ahab, of all hopes of cash—aye, cash. They may scorn cash now; but let some months go by, and no perspective promise of it to them, and then this same quiescent cash all at once mutinying in them, this same cash would soon cashier Ahab.

Ahab had not forgotten another thing. In moments of strong emotion, people scorn all petty concerns. But such moments pass quickly. Ahab thought that the man society makes is sordid by nature. The White Whale might fully stir the hearts of his savage crew. The chase might even awaken a kind of generous, knightly spirit in their savagery. But though they chased Moby Dick for the love of it, they would still need something to satisfy their ordinary, daily appetites. Even the noble and chivalrous Crusaders of old were not content to travel two thousand miles over land to fight for their holy sepulchre. Along the way, they also committed burglaries, picked pockets, and gained other pious rewards. If they had been held strictly to their one final, romantic goal, too many would have turned from it in disgust. I will not deprive these men of all hope of cash, thought Ahab. Yes, cash. They may scorn cash now. But let a few months pass without any prospect of it, and their quiet desire for cash will suddenly rise in mutiny. Cash will soon drive Ahab from command.

Nor was there wanting still another precautionary motive more related to Ahab personally. Having impulsively, it is probable, and perhaps somewhat prematurely revealed the prime but private purpose of the Pequod’s voyage, Ahab was now entirely conscious that, in so doing, he had indirectly laid himself open to the unanswerable charge of usurpation; and with perfect impunity, both moral and legal, his crew if so disposed, and to that end competent, could refuse all further obedience to him, and even violently wrest from him the command. From even the barely hinted imputation of usurpation, and the possible consequences of such a suppressed impression gaining ground, Ahab must of course have been most anxious to protect himself. That protection could only consist in his own predominating brain and heart and hand, backed by a heedful, closely calculating attention to every minute atmospheric influence which it was possible for his crew to be subjected to.

There was still another reason for caution, one more personal to Ahab. He had probably revealed the main but private purpose of the Pequod’s voyage on impulse, and perhaps somewhat too soon. Ahab now fully understood that, by doing so, he had left himself open to an unanswerable charge of seizing power. If his crew chose to do so and had the ability, they could refuse to obey him any longer. They could even take command from him by force, without moral or legal penalty. Ahab must naturally have been most anxious to protect himself from even a hint of that charge. He also had to guard against the possible consequences if such an unspoken suspicion gained ground. His only protection lay in the strength of his own mind, heart, and hand. He also had to pay careful, calculating attention to every small influence that might affect the mood of his crew.

For all these reasons then, and others perhaps too analytic to be verbally developed here, Ahab plainly saw that he must still in a good degree continue true to the natural, nominal purpose of the Pequod’s voyage; observe all customary usages; and not only that, but force himself to evince all his well known passionate interest in the general pursuit of his profession.

For all these reasons, and perhaps others too complicated to explain here, Ahab saw clearly what he had to do. He had to remain largely faithful to the Pequod’s stated and natural purpose and follow all the usual practices. He also had to force himself to show his well-known passionate interest in the general pursuit of his profession.

Be all this as it may, his voice was now often heard hailing the three mast-heads and admonishing them to keep a bright look-out, and not omit reporting even a porpoise. This vigilance was not long without reward.

Whatever the case, his voice was now often heard calling to the lookouts at all three mastheads. He warned them to keep a sharp watch and report even a porpoise. Their vigilance was soon rewarded.