The weather being fine, with a steady N.E. wind blowing, so that the sails required no attention, work proceeded steadily all the morning.  The oars were sorted, examined for flaws, and placed in the boats; the whale-line, manilla rope like yellow silk, 1 1/2 inch round, was brought on deck, stretched and coiled down with the greatest care into tubs, holding, some 200 fathoms, and others 100 fathoms each.  New harpoons were fitted to poles of rough but heavy wood, without any attempt at neatness, but every attention to strength.  The shape of these weapons was not, as is generally thought, that of an arrow, but rather like an arrow with one huge barb, the upper part of which curved out from the shaft.  The whole of the barb turned on a stout pivot of steel, but was kept in line with the shaft by a tiny wooden peg which passed through barb and shaft, being then cut off smoothly on both sides.  The point of the harpoon had at one side a wedge-shaped edge, ground to razor keenness, the other side was flat.  The shaft, about thirty inches long, was of the best malleable iron, so soft that it would tie into a knot and straighten out again without fracture.  Three harpoons, or “irons” as they were always called, were placed in each boat, fitted one above the other in the starboard bow, the first for use being always one unused before, Opposite to them in the boat were fitted three lances for the purpose of killing whales, the harpoons being only the means by which the boat was attached to a fish, and quite useless to inflict a fatal wound.  These lances were slender spears of malleable iron about four feet long, with oval or heart-shaped points of fine steel about two inches broad, their edges kept keen as a surgeon’s lancet.  By means of a socket at the other end they were attached to neat handles, or “lance-poles,” about as long again, the whole weapon being thus about eight feet in length, and furnished with a light line, or “lance-warp,” for the purpose of drawing it back again when it had been darted at a whale.

Each boat was fitted with a centre-board, or sliding keel, which was drawn up, when not in use, into a case standing in the boat’s middle, very much in the way.  But the American whalemen regard these clumsy contrivances as indispensable, so there’s an end on’t.  The other furniture of a boat comprised five oars of varying lengths from sixteen to nine feet, one great steering oar of nineteen feet, a mast and two sails of great area for so small a craft, spritsail shape; two tubs of whale-line containing together 1800 feet, a keg of drinking water, and another long narrow one with a few biscuits, a lantern, candles and matches therein; a bucket and “piggin” for baling, a small spade, a flag or “wheft,” a shoulder bomb-gun and ammunition, two knives and two small axes.  A rudder hung outside by the stern.

With all this gear, although snugly stowed, a boat looked so loaded that I could not help wondering how six men would be able to work in her; but like most “deep-water” sailors, I knew very little about boating.  I was going to learn.