HAZARDS AND COMPENSATIONS 193 



scanty supplies of food and water that they were compelled to 

 sail on, after leaving three men who preferred the possibility 

 of starvation on the island to the interminable torture of sus- 

 pense in the boats. In spite of much rough weather, intense 

 heat, and increasing hunger, thirst, and weakness, the three 

 leaky, weather-beaten boats managed to stay together until 

 January 12, 1820, when the mate's craft separated from the 

 others in a storm. On January 28 the two remaining groups 

 parted company under similar circumstances j and thereafter the 

 isolated parties suffered even more excruciatingly than before. 



After two men in the mate's boat had died and had been 

 eaten by the remainder, the three survivors were finally picked 

 up on February 19, 1820, and taken into Valparaiso. In the 

 captain's boat, meantime, two men died and one was shot after 

 drawing lots. Their bodies kept the master and one hand 

 alive until they were sighted by the whaler Dauphiny of Nan- 

 tucket. This was also late in February. The second mate's 

 crew was never heard of again, and undoubtedly perished at 

 sea J while the five emaciated wretches who were rescued had 

 been forced to spend three full months in open boats. 



The loss of the Ann Alexander, though occurring under sim- 

 ilar circumstances, involved far less suffering on the part of 

 the crew. On August 20, 1851, an "ugly" sperm whale, har- 

 pooned on the Off-Shore Ground, turned and crushed two 

 boats in succession. After rescuing the crews, the captain 

 pressed the attack in the vessel itself, barely avoiding several 

 dangerous rushes. Just before sunset, however, the cachalot 

 succeeded in delivering such a heavy blow that the ship became 

 water-logged and the crew was forced to spend the night in the 

 boats. The next day was spent in securing provisions from 

 the wreck and in preparing for a long journey j but fortunately 

 they were picked up within twenty-four hours and taken into 

 Payta. Five months later, by a curious coincidence, the same 

 whale, with two harpoons in its blubber and pieces of the ship's 

 timbers imbedded in its head, was killed by the Rebecca Sims, 

 of New Bedford. 



But not all the hazards of whaling life were due to actual 

 combat. Other dangers, too, there were in abundance. Fire 

 was a significant risk aboard vessels which were compelled to 



