L'74 HISTORY AND METHODS OP THE FISHERIES. 



'Put a rope around him under his arms, aud haul him up.' I was worked up to that pitch that it 

 seemed to rue I did not care much which way I weut, up or down ; but I said if you take rue up at all I 

 waut to be hoisted in the boat. Captaiu Wing then saw how badly I was hurt. I was carried below 

 to my berth, my clothes were cut oft, and the lower part of my leg bound up iu spliuts. Meanwhile the 

 whale had ' turned up' and the men left me to take it alongside. Mrs. Wing, the captain's wife, was 

 very kind to me, aud did all she could to make me comfortable. I sent the steward for the captain, 

 and told him my leg was broken above the knee, and he said at first 'No;' but I told him it surely 

 was, because I could feel it. He then concluded that it was, and bound up the upper portion of 

 my leg with splints, and kept the bandages wet with ram and salt water. The blood was washed 

 from my head and beard. My head was cut badly and my chin split open. All my wounds were 

 dressed, and, taking it altogether, I thought I was about used up. My bunk was very dismal, and 

 alter lying there for two days Mr. Norton gave me his room ; I found it much lighter and better 

 ventilated than my berth. The cooper made a box for the lower part of my leg, and for eighty days 

 I lay upon my back. Old Tom, my boat-steerer, a Cape Verde Portuguese, came to see me often. 

 During his first visit he said, 'You killed that whale, Mr. Baker; that whale most killed you.' 

 Tom is still alive, aud was afterwards promoted to second mate, as high as he could get. Mr. 

 Fisher, the fourth mate, took my boat's crew while I was sick and killed a right whale. Tom 

 gave the whale two irons to the hitches, and three of the crew jumped overboard just before he 

 darted his first iron; they must have been frightened. We did not make land for seven months 

 after my leg was broken, when we touched at St. Catharine's. I was then walking on crutches, and 

 some of the officers frequently told me that I would never kill another whale. During our home- 

 ward passage, on June 30, 1865, latitude 10 30' north, longitude 39 west, we raised two schools 

 of sperm whales. Captain Wing did not want me to lower, but I insisted upon it. The mate and 

 myself went for one school and the second and fourth mate for the other. A whale came up just 

 right for me to strike him, and I went for him, keeping the hump aud spout-hole in range. I was 

 still on crutches. We were right over his flukes when Tom darted the iron, and the boat was cut 

 iu two about 'midships, and all of us were sent up into the air. I have often wondered how I got 

 clear without breaking my leg again; but it did not happen to strike anything. The boat was 

 stove so badly we did not think she was worth picking up. On my next voyage I went out as 

 second mate of bark Stafford, aud my boat-steerer got his line riding while the first whale I struck 

 was sounding, ad down went the boat. This made three times iu succession that I got a good 

 soaking, and I began to think I was a Jonah; but I had better luck afterwards. When I was 

 before the mast, in the John Dawsoii, we struck a large sperm whale off Madagascar; he smashed 

 up three boats, and even ' shocked' some of the line-tubs. One man was badly hurt." 



In 1879 I met Capt. J. T. Dunham, who was at that time keeper of the light house on the 

 extreme tip of Cape Cod. He lost a leg by a foul line and was carried under water a considerable 

 distance. I am indebted to Mr. E. W. Swift, of Provincetown, who has kindly forwarded Mr. 

 Dunham's account of the accident. When he was boat-steerer on the schooner Clara L. Sparks, 

 of Provincetowu, he struck a whale near the island of Bequia, West Indies. As soon as the whale 

 felt the iron he struck the boat with his flukes, stove it, and half filled it with water. Mr. Dun- 

 ham was precipitated into the, water aud one of his legs was entangled with the line. The whale 

 sounded so suddenly that Captain Sparks, who headed the boat, did not notice Dunham's disap- 

 pearance, but afterwards missing him concluded that he must have been caught in the line, and 

 taken overboard. The crew pulled ahead with the hope that the whale would stop sounding 

 before the line came taut. The whale, on the other hand, continued his downward motions and 

 the line straightened out. In a few moments Mr. Dunham came to the surface more dead than 



