The Crotch

Out of the trunk, the branches grow; out of them, the twigs. So, in productive subjects, grow the chapters.

Branches grow from the trunk, and twigs grow from the branches. In the same way, chapters grow from fruitful subjects.

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 the bow, for the purpose of furnishing a rest for the wooden extremity of the harpoon, whose other naked, barbed end slopingly projects from the prow. Thereby the weapon is instantly at hand to its hurler, who snatches it up as readily from its rest as a backwoodsman swings his rifle from the wall. It is customary to have two harpoons reposing in the crotch, respectively called the first and second irons.

The crotch mentioned on a previous page deserves a description of its own. It is a specially shaped, notched stick, about two feet long. It stands upright in the starboard gunwale near the bow. It serves as a rest for the wooden end of the harpoon. The other end is bare and barbed, and slopes out from the prow. This keeps the weapon ready for the person who throws it. He can snatch it from the rest as easily as a backwoodsman takes his rifle from the wall. Two harpoons usually rest in the crotch. They are called the first and second irons.

But these two harpoons, each by its own cord, are both connected with the line; the object being this: to dart them both, if possible, one instantly after the other into the same whale; so that if, in the coming drag, one should draw out, the other may still retain a hold. It is a doubling of the chances. But it very often happens that owing to the instantaneous, violent, convulsive running of the whale upon receiving the first iron, it becomes impossible for the harpooneer, however lightning-like in his movements, to pitch the second iron into him. Nevertheless, as the second iron is already connected with the line, and the line is running, hence that weapon must, at all events, be anticipatingly tossed out of the boat, somehow and somewhere; else the most terrible jeopardy would involve all hands. Tumbled into the water, 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 unattended with the saddest and most fatal casualties.

But both harpoons are connected to the line, each by its own cord. The aim is to throw them both, if possible, one immediately after the other, into the same whale. Then, if one pulls out during the chase, the other may still hold. This doubles the chances. But very often, as soon as the first harpoon strikes, the whale bolts with such sudden, violent, convulsive force that the harpooneer cannot throw the second harpoon into it, however lightning-fast his movements. Nevertheless, the second harpoon is already connected to the line, and the line is running out. So the harpoon must be tossed out of the boat beforehand, somehow and somewhere. Otherwise, everyone aboard would be in terrible danger. In such cases, it is tossed into the water. The spare coils of box line, mentioned in a preceding chapter, make this reasonably safe in most cases. But this critical act is not always free from the saddest and most fatal accidents.

Furthermore: you must know that when the second iron is thrown overboard, 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 is fairly captured and a corpse.

Furthermore, you should know what happens when the second harpoon is thrown overboard. It becomes a dangling, sharp-edged terror, bouncing wildly around both the boat and the whale. It tangles or cuts the lines and causes tremendous commotion in all directions. Generally, the harpoon cannot be secured again until the whale has been fully captured and is dead.

Consider, now, how it must be in the case of four boats all engaging one unusually strong, active, and knowing whale; when owing to these qualities in him, as well as to the thousand concurring accidents of such an audacious enterprise, eight or ten loose second irons may be simultaneously dangling about him. For, of course, each boat is supplied with several harpoons to bend on to the line should the first one be ineffectually darted without recovery. All these particulars are faithfully narrated here, as they will not fail to elucidate several most important, however intricate passages, in scenes hereafter to be painted.

Now consider four boats all attacking one unusually strong, active, and clever whale. Because of these qualities, and the countless accidents that accompany such a daring enterprise, eight or ten loose second harpoons may be dangling around him at once. Of course, each boat carries several harpoons to attach to the line if the first is thrown unsuccessfully and cannot be recovered. All these details are faithfully recorded here because they will help explain several very important, though complicated, passages in the scenes to come.