For the next three days the crew of the Resolution worked at clearing away the blubber and storing it in casks, a process known as “making off”. On Saturday, they were also busy “gumming” which, Jackson explains in a footnote, involves the removal of the gum from the whalebone, “the first step in preparation of the whalebone for commercial uses”. Scoresby writes about the process in his Account of the Arctic Regions Vol 2, on pages 416 and 458.
There had been so many whales over the past week or so that the ship was in danger from the weight of blubber temporarily stowed in the main hold amidships. The work also involved emptying casks of water–the ship’s ballast–and coals to make way for the blubber:
At 9AM began to clear away the Blubber in mid ships of the main hold to make off being alarmed lest the Iron stantions supporting the Beams and Blubber on each side of the main Hatch way and twin decks from coming into mid ships should break the stress on them being very heavy and they bending very much altho’ we had supported them with pieces of wood between each stantion had not been long begun ere one of them actually broke.
This process of loading and adjusting the cargo mid-voyage was a characteristic of the whaling trade, and one in which the skill of the captain was significant. Scoresby was adept at balancing, and rebalancing the ship as the cargo changed, but even he had difficulty with the quantity of blubber in the way. On Sunday there was a heavy sea, but the work continued throughout Monday, when “At 1PM made sail tacked ship and steered by the wind SW or WSW on the edge of the Pack [ice] which labout ENE and WSW.
On Thursday blubber finally replaced the ballast in the casks in the fore hold, the Resolution made sail in constant snow. Scoresby notes that they passed the Henrietta and the Margaret, which had 20 and 26 whales respectively. Although they saw no whales, Scoresby became fascinated with the colour of the water, which he describes as:
very deep green. The Ice all around at the edges tinged of a deep yellow colour from the deposit of some substance in the water which gives it the deep green colour. This colour is evidently permanent not changing in fine weather or foul. Clear or Cloudy, fair or Snowy. Calm or Stormy. I preserve a bottle of it for future analysis.
Soon a gale sprang up, and the sea became high: “Plying to Windward tacking or wearing at the Ice every 4 hours” with four or five ships in sight: “Lively of Whitby 4 Fish Experiment of London 8″.
The slaughter of whales continued apace. On Wednesday they “without much trouble struck and killed two fine whales” and took them both alongside. The ship by now was “much by the head in draught of water”–bow lower than the stern–and was, as Scoresby says “unhandy”. He takes time to remark on one of the whales:
One of the whales we last got is a handsome animal his party coloured coat of black and white being somewhat uncommon in the mixture and his fine bright black back shews him to be a gentleman whale, perhaps one of their brightest beaus. Having flinched the whale notwithstanding we had yet room to take in 20* more cleared the Fore hold started [emptied] water and began to make off.
This adjustment in the ballast made the ship temporarily unstable, and the “waist” boats–those amidships–were lowered to prevent the ship “falling over”. Once again, large numbers of ships were nearby:
Captn. Johnstone** came on board and took Breakfast with us they got 3 fish within 24 hours last have now about 70 tons of oil.
*Jackson speculates that this probably means 20 tons.
**Presumably Captain Johnson, of the Aimwell.
For several days now the Resolution had been taking at least one whale each day, and by Tuesday the crew was tiring. They took a whale in the morning, and another at 4pm, both of which had to be ‘flinched’ and the blubber brought on board. The Aimwell was enjoying similar success, having taken seven whales, two of which Scoresby describes as “of size,” and therefore yielding 30-40 tons of oil. Jackson reminds us that “‘size’ meant a whale with whalebone six feet in length or greater”. Scoresby sent all but one boat’s crew to bed for six hours, before setting off to the Northeast in pursuit once more: “I having seen with a Telescope from the masthead several Fish in that direction.
The 1811 season had started badly for the ships in the Greenland Sea, but by the end of May the number of whales caught was rising fast. However, as the returns at the end of the season showed, many of these whales were young and small. In the Davis Strait, to the west of Greenland, the 1811 season was hampered by a great deal of ice, but the number of ships–around two thirds of the British whaling fleet–fishing there, is indicative of the decline in whale numbers around Spitzbergen. The number of small whales caught by Scoresby, and other captains, and the near absence of large ones, hints at a future sharp decline in whale numbers in the Greenland Sea, a decline which all but put an end to whaling there by 1830.
While the whales were generally small, several Greenland ships caught significant numbers, and Scoresby at least caught some of larger size. On Monday Scoresby reported seeing many whales, but despite 10 attempts to get one fast, they all escaped. Scoresby blamed the clarity of the water, which was of a “transparent blue colour” allowing the whales to see their pursuers in plenty of time.
Two incidents on June 3rd help create a picture of life on board a whaler. The first tells us how well adapted whale ships were to their unique trade. Here Scoresby takes sole control of the ship himself, even managing to tack on his own:
In the absence of the Boats I worked and steered the Ship by myself alone tacked once. Several Sips to the Wd or NWd have got fish lately[.] The Aimwell [was amongst] those which were successful in their pursuits they all lay at the edge of Floes or frozen Packs[.] They had small whales here middle sized or larger.
The other incident illustrates the risks involved in going after whales. With large numbers of whales all around the ship, Scoresby sent out six boats. In one of them the “Spicksoneer” or chief harpooner, John Hall struck a large whale which:
with her tail struck so forcibly at the boat the Boatsteerer Wm Welburn was thrown overboard. The stroke was repeated when the Spicksoneer and Linemanager shared the same fate. Welburn recovered the Boat the two latter were not so fortunate. The Boat by the lines was instantly drawn from the spot and the two men left swimming …
Neither of these men was badly hurt, though they spent a few minutes in the water, and suffered “fright”. Remarkably, the Linemanager managed to stay afloat long enough for another boat to reach him despite being “unacquainted with the art of swimming”.
The large whale was finally killed, along with another later in the day.
On Sunday, Scoresby rewarded his men with a pint of Fishburn’s fine ale, a cask having been donated to the voyage as a reward for catching whales. Beer was a common drink on board whale ships, but this was better beer than the usual:
Having now five Whales, broached a cask given us by Mr Fishburn filled with fine ale[.] I delivered to each of the sailors a glass containing about a pint being at Mrs F’s request (to be repeated should we be fortunate enough to get five more whales.)
Later in his career Scoresby eschewed fishing on Sundays, but on this day a whale was stuck “by a heave”, which is to say, by a harpoon thrown from the ship itself. The water here was a “deep green colour favourable to fishing” and having flinched the whale, they struck two more, one of which was killed “and flinched the Ship under sails”.
On Saturday another whale was killed, this time with some difficulty, and was flinched with the ship made fast to an “aggregation of floes”. Captain Kearsley, of the Henrietta paid a visit, and gave Scoresby an account of his season so far: 20 or 21 fish, about 90-100 tons of oil. The Henrietta had escaped from the ice on May 16th, along with two other ships, the Aurora, and the Old Manchester, the latter of which, according to Jackson, was built in New York, in 1762.
Things were looking up for Scoresby and the Resolution. At midnight they struck another whale, and in the morning they set off again, with 14 ships in sight.
By now the Resolution had reached Lat 78 N, 26, Long. 5, 40E, and Scoresby aniticpated the wind dropping. There was almost no ice, and he observed “many sporting animals suppose they were Bottlenoses.” Scoresby also made observations of the sky, noting that while some clouds travelled with the wind, others appeared to be going against it:
The upper region of light fleecy cloud seemed to move fast in the direction of the wind the lower regions of pieces of heavy Masses which divided from dense horizontal clouds as they arose above the Sea had a similar motion whilst a middle region of cloud plain to be seen and somewhat similar in appearance to that of the higher region … was either stationary or had a motion to Windward the latter appeared to be the case however from the nature of the motion of the others might be a deception[.]
Scoresby also took the opportunity to establish their latitude by the sun’s altitude below the Pole Star. Jackson notes:
… determining the latitude by the sun’s altitude at midnight is a reversal of the normal calculation based on the sun’s altitude at noon that is not mentioned in the standard textbooks of nautical navigation. It is, of course, a method only available to ships in high latitudes.
Finally they encountered some small whales, killed one within about two hours, and, after clearing some casks from the main hold, to make space for the blubber (a space known as a ‘flinch gut’), preceeded to ‘flinch’ the whale, alongside the ship, bringing the blubber on deck.
On Friday May 31st, with the Vigilant and Bernie nearby, another whale was killed, and as with the one killed the day before, it was flinched with the ship still under sail, rather than coming to a stop. Scoresby notes that despite having a whale attached to the side “we worked to Windward nearly as well as at other times”. At 9am they killed yet another whale, and again, continued underway as the whale was flinched, the men working on the carcass and the ship “made sail”. The prospects for the season were looking up: Scoresby notes that there were 13 ships nearby, “several of which have got fish this Morning”.
On Monday, the wind increased to a hard gale, but the Resolution was able to make progress against the wind. Scoresby is especially proud that while the other ships neaby had to wear to the South with the wind, he was able to tack normally, and that the ship “never missed stays”:
Notwithstanding the Sea became high yet the Ship never missed stays — we had frequently to tack to Windward between streams of Ice and amongst scattered heavy washed pieces which were very dangerous[.] Most of the Ships about us were obliged to wear. At noon had passed the Aimwell, Mary and Elizabeth, James of Liverpool, Augusta, Guilder* etc.
On Wednesday the 29th, having seen just one whale, and with the rest of the fleet to windward–the wind continued to blow North by East–the Resolution kept pushing forward with light ice no closer than 12 miles away, and land–the island of Prins Karls Forland–“at NNE Distance 15 miles[.] Stood off found nothing but clear water during many hours sail except a few disseminated pieces of Ice.”
*Actually the Gilder.
On Saturday evening, the Resolution followed the ‘Burnie’ and another ship to the ENE, as they made progress through the ice. The rest of the fleet followed, and by the morning of the 26th, they had made it into “slacker Ice”:
The James of Liverpool opened a apassage we followed when we reached this water we were from two to 8 or 10 miles a head of several of the Ships which started with us. The Aimwell came up to use soon afterwards. No Ice is here to be seen between us and the land and none to the North except disseminated pieces … Saw no Whales …
Letters to Elizabeth 