56 A YEAR WITH A WHALER 



side fins like the wings of a bird, sometimes rising 

 fifteen to twenty feet above the water, and curv- 

 ing and zigzagging in their flight. JNIore than 

 once they flew directly across the ship and sev- 

 eral fell on deck. I was talking with Kaiuli, the 

 Kanaka, one night when we heard a soft little 

 thud on deck. I should have paid no attention 

 but Kaiuli was alert on the instant. " Flying 

 feesh," he cried zestfully and rushed off to search 

 the deck. He found the fish and ate it raw. 

 smacking his lips over it with great gusto. The 

 Hawaiian islanders, he told me, esteem raw fly- 

 ing fish a great delicacy. 



I never saw water so " darkly, deeply, beauti- 

 fully blue " as in the middle of the Pacific where 

 we had some four miles of water under us. It 

 was as blue as indigo. At night, the sea seemed 

 afire with riotous phosphorescence. White 

 flames leaped about the bows where the brig cut 

 the water before a fresh breeze; the wake was a 

 broad, glowing path. When white caps were 

 running every wave broke in sparks and tongues 

 of flame, and the ocean presented the appearance 

 of a prairie swept by fire. A big shark came 



