Such a scene of wild confusion
and uproarious merriment ensued as I never saw before in my life.
The skipper, true to his traditions, got fast to four, all
running different ways at once, and making the calm sea boil
again with their frantic gyrations. Each of the other boats got
hold of three; but, the mate getting too near me, our fish got so
inextricably tangled up that it was hopeless to try and
distinguish between each other's prizes. However, when we got
the lances to work among them, the hubbub calmed down greatly,
and the big bodies one by one ceased their gambols, floating
supine.
So far, all had been gay; but the unlucky second mate must needs
go and do a thing that spoiled a day's fun entirely. The line
runs through a deep groove in the boat's stem, over a brass
roller so fitted that when the line is running out it remains
fixed, but when hauling in it revolves freely, assisting the work
a great deal. The second mate had three fish fast, like the rest
of us--the first one on the end of the main line, the other two
on "short warps," or pieces of whale-line some eight or ten
fathoms long fastened to harpoons, with the other ends running on
the main line by means of bowlines round it.
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