CHAPTER XII 



HAVING put down these recent experiences of modern 

 whaling, which, though not exciting, may at least 

 be instructive, let us return to follow the fortunes 

 of our patient whalers on the St Ebba. 



It is September now, and a Wednesday, and early and 

 clear and cold, with no gale, with just a ripple down Lerwick 

 Bay ; one or two people are lighting their peat fires and the 

 scent comes off to us on the pure, almost wintry air, and we 

 hoist the Union Jack astern though no one may see it, and 

 let steam into the steam donkey-engine, and up comes the 

 port anchor, then the starboard and there is a pause and a 

 bell rings for stand-by, then half-speed and clash goes the 

 air pressure ; then full speed, and the motor settles down 

 to its steady musical beat and hum. We are becoming 

 more easy in our minds now about our air compressor start- 

 ing the engine, but have not quite forgotten that failure 

 down south-west of Norway, in the heavy weather, and 

 the subsequent twenty-four hours of hand-pumping for air 

 pressure to start the engine. 



Now we swing round and head south and east out of 

 Lerwick Bay, past the Bressay Light on our left, and then 

 turn northwards towards Whalsey and the Outer Skerries, 

 making for Yell Sound and the west of Shetland for whales, 

 finners, rorquals or big cetaceans of any kind. I found on 

 my visit to the west coast of Shetland on Sunday, to our 

 whaling station there, that our steam-whalers had left for 

 Norway a week previously. Owing to the rough weather 

 they said the season was over ; but they left word that there 

 were still whales about the coast as close as five miles. Now 

 we have lovely weather to-day, though so cold it feels as if 

 we were at the start of the spring fishing rather than arriving 

 at the end of the season. It will be rather rich if we capture 

 a few whales when the others have fled. At any rate we 

 G 97 



