AT SEA: ON THE WHALING GROUNDS 155 



as stowed down." ^ The "sum affixed" was two cents per 

 barrel for an able seaman, one and one-half cents for an ordi- 

 nary seaman, and one cent for a green hand. That is, if a 

 certain hand raised a whale which yielded sixty barrels of oil, 

 he was to receive one dollar and twenty cents from every able 

 seaman who had signed the agreement, ninety cents from 

 every ordinary seaman, and sixty cents from every green hand. 

 This arrangement, if continued for any length of time, gave 

 rise to a rather complicated system of mutual debts which 

 largely offset each other. In the long run, however, the more 

 vigilant and more fortunate hands would gain, while those 

 who were less keen-sighted or less fortunate would lose. 



Allowing for differences in men and in weather, "standing 

 mastheads" might involve hardship, monotony, or pleasure. 

 In good weather a thoughtful or imaginative man might enjoy 

 to the full this opportunity to escape from the roistering, foul- 

 smelling forecastle J while in bad weather an empty-minded 

 seaman who craved companionship would find his trick of two 

 hours running into several eternities. Always, however, there 

 was the insistent call for vigilance and the cramped discomfort 

 of such an exposed position. 



But Herman Melville has devoted a chapter of "Moby 

 Dick" to a portrayal of the everlastingness, the spiritual possi- 

 bilities, and the physical discomforts of "The Masthead." 



In most American whalemen the mastheads are manned almost 

 simultaneously with the vessel's leaving her port; even though she 

 may have fifteen thousand miles, and more, to sail ere reaching her 

 proper cruising ground. And if, after a three, four, or five year's 

 voyage she is drawing nigh home with anything empty in her — say, an 

 empty vial even — then, her mastheads are kept manned to the last; 

 and not till her skysail-poles sail in among the spires of the port, does 

 she altogether relinquish the hope of capturing one whale more . . . 



The three masts are kept manned from sunrise to sunset; the sea- 

 men taking their regular turns, as at the helm, and relieving each 

 other every two hours. In the serene weather of the tropics it is 

 exceedingly pleasant — the masthead; nay, to a dreamy meditative man 

 it is delightful. There you stand, a hundred feet above the silent 

 decks, striding along the deep, as if the masts were gigantic stilts, while 

 beneath you and between your legs, as it were, swim the hugest mon- 



6 Browne, J. R., "Etchings of a Whaling Cruise," pp. i6i f. 



