Epilogue

The drama’s done. Why then here does any one step forth?—Because one did survive the wreck.

The drama is over. Why, then, does anyone step forward? Because one person survived the wreck.

It so chanced, that after the Parsee’s disappearance, I was he whom the Fates ordained to take the place of Ahab’s bowsman, when that bowsman assumed the vacant post; the same, who, when on the last day the three men were tossed from out of the rocking boat, was dropped astern. So, floating on the margin of the ensuing scene, and in full sight of it, when the halfspent suction of the sunk ship reached me, I was then, but slowly, drawn towards the closing vortex. When I reached it, it had subsided to a creamy pool. Round and round, then, and ever contracting towards the button-like black bubble at the axis of that slowly wheeling circle, like another Ixion I did revolve. Till, gaining that vital centre, the black bubble upward burst; and now, liberated by reason of its cunning spring, and, owing to its great buoyancy, rising with great force, the coffin life-buoy shot lengthwise from the sea, fell over, and floated by my side. Buoyed up by that coffin, for almost one whole day and night, I floated on a soft and dirgelike main. The unharming sharks, they glided by as if with padlocks on their mouths; the savage sea-hawks sailed with sheathed beaks. On the second day, a sail drew near, nearer, and picked me up at last. It was the devious-cruising Rachel, that in her retracing search after her missing children, only found another orphan.

After the Parsee disappeared, Ahab’s bowsman took his vacant place, and the Fates chose me to replace the bowsman. On the last day, three men were thrown from the rocking boat. I was the one left behind it. So I floated at the edge of the scene that followed, with a clear view of it. The suction from the sunken ship reached me, though its force was already half spent. It slowly drew me toward the closing whirlpool. By the time I reached it, the whirlpool had subsided into a creamy pool. Like another Ixion, I spun round and round in the slowly turning circle. I drew ever closer to the buttonlike black bubble at its center. When I reached that vital center, the black bubble burst upward. Freed by its clever spring, the coffin life-buoy rose with great force because it was so buoyant. It shot lengthwise from the sea, fell over, and floated beside me. Held up by that coffin, I floated for almost a whole day and night on a soft, mournful sea. The sharks glided by without harming me, as if their mouths were padlocked. The savage sea-hawks sailed overhead with their beaks sheathed. On the second day, a sail came closer and closer, and at last picked me up. It was the Rachel, cruising far and wide. As she retraced her course in search of her missing children, she found only another orphan.