A DYING INDUSTRY 313 



Three years later Captain Benjamin Cleveland, who had 

 brought into New Bedford during his long experience as a whaler 

 two cargoes of oil that earned a profit of $30,000 apiece and had 

 retired at the age of seventy-two, went back to the sea in com- 

 mand of his whaling schooner, the William H. Graber. The 

 art of whaling cannot completely die so long as any of the old 

 captains are left. But that, alas, cannot be long now! 



The old whaling days live in other ways than in stories, too. 

 On board one of our training ships during the World War an 

 officer sent a man forward to throw overboard a bit of rope yarn. 

 As he stooped to pick up the bit of rope yarn, the wind sud- 

 denly filled the jib, which had been hanging empty, and the 

 tightening jib sheet caught the m.an and tossed him overboard. 



Now you can drill a crew of young fellows from dawn to dark, 

 but when an emergency breaks upon you, things are likely to 

 happen in unexpected ways. At the call, **Man overboard!" 

 the boys had been taught to throw over the side such light ob- 

 jects as chicken coops and life preservers to help keep the man 

 afloat. But when the cry actually arose in mid-ocean, they hove 

 after the poor fellow every movable object on deck: one lad 

 threw a brass binnacle lantern. A certain boy had been ap- 

 pointed in the drills to go aloft with a glass and keep his eye on 

 the man in the water, but he, quite overcome with excitement, 

 now missed his footing and fell from the rigging and broke his 

 arm. So the ship ran on far beyond the man in the water 

 before they brought her to, and no one knew just where he was. 



Of all those on deck, it appears that only the captain, an 

 officer, of course, in the navy, had kept his presence of mind. 

 He had thrown a circular life preserver and was convinced that 

 he had seen the man get hold of it. 



In launching the boats, the boys tangled the falls and one 

 boat was all but capsized ; but they finally got safely away, and 

 for three quarters of an hour they hunted. At last they came 

 back and said it was no use to hunt longer. 



The captain turned to the chief officer. "Mr. So-and-so," 

 he said, ''I am morally certain I saw that man catch the life 

 preserver." 



