22 A YEAR WITH A WHALER 



her main-mast, a big mainsail with a gaff -topsail 

 above it. Three whale boats — starboard, lar- 

 board, and waist boats — hung at her davits. 

 Amidships stood the brick try-works equipped 

 with furnaces and cauldrons for rendering blub- 

 ber into oil. 



As soon as I arrived on board I was taken in 

 charge by the ship keeper and conducted to the 

 forecastle. It was a dark, malodorous, trian- 

 gular hole below the deck in the bows. At the 

 foot of the ladder-like stairs, leading down 

 through the scuttle, I stepped on something soft 

 and yielding. Was it possible, I wondered in 

 an instant's flash of surprise, that the forecastle 

 was laid with a velvet carpet? No, it was not. 

 It was only a Kanaka sailor lying on the floor 

 dead drunk. The bunks were ranged round the 

 walls in a double tier. I selected one for my- 

 self, arranged my mattress and blankets, and 

 threw my bag inside. I was glad to get back to 

 fresh air on deck as quickly as possible. 



Members of the crew kept coming aboard in 

 charge of runners and boarding bosses. They 

 were a hard looking lot ; several were staggering 



