CHAPTER 94
A Squeeze of the Hand
That whale of Stubb’s, so dearly purchased, was duly brought to the
Pequod’s side, where all those cutting and hoisting operations previously
detailed, were regularly gone through, even to the baling of the Heidelburgh
Tun, or Case.
While some were occupied with this latter duty, others were employed in
dragging away the larger tubs, so soon as filled with the sperm; and when
the proper time arrived, this same sperm was carefully manipulated ere
going to the try-works, of which anon.
It had cooled and crystallized to such a degree, that when, with several
others, I sat down before a large Constantine’s bath of it, I found it strangely
concreted into lumps, here and there rolling about in the liquid part. It was
our business to squeeze these lumps back into fluid. A sweet and unctuous
duty! No wonder that in old times this sperm was such a favorite cosmetic.
Such a clearer! such a sweetener! such a softener; such a delicious
mollifier! After having my hands in it for only a few minutes, my fingers
felt like eels, and began, as it were, to serpentine and spiralize.
As I sat there at my ease, cross-legged on the deck; after the bitter
exertion at the windlass; under a blue tranquil sky; the ship under indolent
sail, and gliding so serenely along; as I bathed my hands among those soft,
gentle globules of infiltrated tissues, woven almost within the hour; as they
richly broke to my fingers, and discharged all their opulence, like fully ripe
grapes their wine; as. I snuffed up that uncontaminated aroma,— literally
and truly, like the smell of spring violets; I declare to you, that for the time I
lived as in a musky meadow; I forgot all about our horrible oath; in that
inexpressible sperm, I washed my hands and my heart of it; I almost began
to credit the old Paracelsan superstition that sperm is of rare virtue in
allaying the heat of anger; while bathing in that bath, I felt divinely free
from all ill-will, or petulance, or malice, of any sort whatsoever.
Squeeze! squeeze! squeeze! all the morning long; I squeezed that sperm
till I myself almost melted into it; I squeezed that sperm till a strange sort of
insanity came over me; and I found myself unwittingly squeezing my co-
laborers’ hands in it, mistaking their hands for the gentle globules. Such an
abounding, affectionate, friendly, loving feeling did this avocation beget;
that at last I was continually squeezing their hands, and looking up into
their eyes sentimentally; as much as to say,—Oh! my dear fellow beings,
why should we longer cherish any social acerbities, or know the slightest
ill-humor or envy! Come; let us squeeze hands all round; nay, let us all
squeeze ourselves into each other; let us squeeze ourselves universally into
the very milk and sperm of kindness.
Would that I could keep squeezing that sperm for ever! For now, since by
many prolonged, repeated experiences, I have perceived that in all cases
man must eventually lower, or at least shift, his conceit of attainable
felicity; not placing it anywhere in the intellect or the fancy; but in the wife,
the heart, the bed, the table, the saddle, the fire-side; the country; now that I
have perceived all this, I am ready to squeeze case eternally. In thoughts of
the visions of the night, I saw long rows of angels in paradise, each with his
hands in a jar of spermaceti.
Now, while discoursing of sperm it behooves to speak of other things
akin to it, in the business of preparing the sperm whale for the try-works.
First comes white-horse, so called, which is obtained from the tapering
part of the fish, and also from the thicker portions of his flukes. It is tough
with congealed tendons—a wad of muscle—but still contains some oil.
After being severed from the whale, the white-horse is first cut into portable
oblongs ere going to the mincer. They look much like blocks of Berkshire
marble.
Plum-pudding is the term bestowed upon certain fragmentary parts of the
whale’s flesh, here and there adhering to the blanket of blubber, and often
participating to a considerable degree in its unctuousness. It is a most
refreshing, convivial, beautiful object to behold. As its name imports, it is
of an exceedingly rich, mottled tint, with a bestreaked snowy and golden
ground, dotted with spots of the deepest crimson and purple. It is plums of
rubies, in pictures of citron. Spite of reason, it is hard to keep yourself from
eating it. I confess, that once I stole behind the foremast to try it. It tasted
something as I should conceive a royal cutlet from the thigh of Louis le
Gros might have tasted, supposing him to have been killed the first day
after the venison season, and that particular venison season contemporary
with an unusually fine vintage of the vineyards of Champagne.
There is another substance, and a very singular one, which turns up in the
course of this business, but which I feel it to be very puzzling adequately to
describe. It is called slobgollion; an appellation original with the whalemen,
and even so is the nature of the substance. It is an ineffably oozy, stringy
affair, most frequently found in the tubs of sperm, after a prolonged
squeezing, and subsequent decanting. I hold it to be the wondrously thin,
ruptured membranes of the case, coalescing.
Gurry, so called, is a term properly belonging to right whalemen, but
sometimes incidentally used by the sperm fishermen. It designates the dark,
glutinous substance which is scraped off the back of the Greenland or right
whale, and much of which covers the decks of those inferior souls who hunt
that ignoble Leviathan.
Nippers. Strictly this word is not indigenous to the whale’s vocabulary.
But as applied by whalemen, it becomes so. A whaleman’s nipper is a short
firm strip of tendinous stuff cut from the tapering part of Leviathan’s tail: it
averages an inch in thickness, and for the rest, is about the size of the iron
part of a hoe. Edgewise moved along the oily deck, it operates like a
leathern squilgee; and by nameless blandishments, as of magic, allures
along with it all impurities.
But to learn all about these recondite matters, your best way is at once to
descend into the blubber-room, and have a long talk with its inmates. This
place has previously been mentioned as the receptacle for the blanket-
pieces, when stript and hoisted from the whale. When the proper time
arrives for cutting up its contents, this apartment is a scene of terror to all
tyros, especially by night. On one side, lit by a dull lantern, a space has
been left clear for the workmen. They generally go in pairs,—a pike-and-
gaffman and a spade-man. The whaling-pike is similar to a frigate’s
boarding-weapon of the same name. The gaff is something like a boat-hook.
With his gaff, the gaffman hooks on to a sheet of blubber, and strives to
hold it from slipping, as the ship pitches and lurches about. Meanwhile, the
spade-man stands on the sheet itself, perpendicularly chopping it into the
portable horse-pieces. This spade is sharp as hone can make it; the
spademan’s feet are shoeless; the thing he stands on will sometimes
irresistibly slide away from him, like a sledge. If he cuts off one of his own
toes, or one of his assistants’, would you be very much astonished? Toes are
scarce among veteran blubber-room men.
