CHAPTER 77
The Great Heidelburgh Tun
Now comes the Baling of the Case. But to comprehend it aright, you
must know something of the curious internal structure of the thing operated
upon.
Regarding the Sperm Whale’s head as a solid oblong, you may, on an
inclined plane, sideways divide it into two quoins,* whereof the lower is the
bony structure, forming the cranium and jaws, and the upper an unctuous
mass wholly free from bones; its broad forward end forming the expanded
vertical apparent forehead of the whale. At the middle of the forehead
horizontally subdivide this upper quoin, and then you have two almost
equal parts, which before were naturally divided by an internal wall of a
thick tendinous substance.
*Quoin is not a Euclidean term. It belongs to the pure nautical
mathematics. I know not that it has been defined before. A quoin is a solid
which differs from a wedge in having its sharp end formed by the steep
inclination of one side, instead of the mutual tapering of both sides.
The lower subdivided part, called the junk, is one immense honeycomb
of oil, formed by the crossing and recrossing, into ten thousand infiltrated
cells, of tough elastic white fibres throughout its whole extent. The upper
part, known as the Case, may be regarded as the great Heidelburgh Tun of
the Sperm Whale. And as that famous great tierce is mystically carved in
front, so the whale’s vast plaited forehead forms innumerable strange
devices for the emblematical adornment of his wondrous tun. Moreover, as
that of Heidelburgh was always replenished with the most excellent of the
wines of the Rhenish valleys, so the tun of the whale contains by far the
most precious of all his oily vintages; namely, the highly-prized spermaceti,
in its absolutely pure, limpid, and odoriferous state. Nor is this precious
substance found unalloyed in any other part of the creature. Though in life it
remains perfectly fluid, yet, upon exposure to the air, after death, it soon
begins to concrete; sending forth beautiful crystalline shoots, as when the
first thin delicate ice is just forming in water. A large whale’s case generally
yields about five hundred gallons of sperm, though from unavoidable
circumstances, considerable of it is spilled, leaks, and dribbles away, or is
otherwise irrevocably lost in the ticklish business of securing what you can.
I know not with what fine and costly material the Heidelburgh Tun was
coated within, but in superlative richness that coating could not possibly
have compared with the silken pearl-colored membrane, like the lining of a
fine pelisse, forming the inner surface of the Sperm Whale’s case.
It will have been seen that the Heidelburgh Tun of the Sperm Whale
embraces the entire length of the entire top of the head; and since—as has
been elsewhere set forth—the head embraces one third of the whole length
of the creature, then setting that length down at eighty feet for a good sized
whale, you have more than twenty-six feet for the depth of the tun, when it
is lengthwise hoisted up and down against a ship’s side.
As in decapitating the whale, the operator’s instrument is brought close to
the spot where an entrance is subsequently forced into the spermaceti
magazine; he has, therefore, to be uncommonly heedful, lest a careless,
untimely stroke should invade the sanctuary and wastingly let out its
invaluable contents. It is this decapitated end of the head, also, which is at
last elevated out of the water, and retained in that position by the enormous
cutting tackles, whose hempen combinations, on one side, make quite a
wilderness of ropes in that quarter.
Thus much being said, attend now, I pray you, to that marvellous and—
in this particular instance—almost fatal operation whereby the Sperm
Whale’s great Heidelburgh Tun is tapped.
