# Loss of the Essex, Destroyed by a Whale: with an Account of the Sufferings of the Crew, Who Were Driven to Extreme Measures to Sustain Life

LOSS OF THE ESSEX,
DESTROYED BY A WHALE,
WITH AN ACCOUNT OF
THE SUFFERINGS OF THE CREW, WHO WERE DRIVEN TO EXTREME MEASURES TO SUSTAIN LIFE.
By R. B. FORBES.
CAMBRIDGE:
JOHN WILSON AND SON. University Press. 1884.
THE LOSS OF THE WHALE-SHIP ESSEX.
Now that the word "cannibalism" is forced upon our notice so unnecessarily, it seems a good time to make a few notes on the fate of the crew of the Essex.
She sailed from Nantucket on the 12th of August, 1819, under command of George Pollard, Jr. We gather from a little time-worn pamphlet written by Owen Chase, the first mate, the following facts regarding the loss of the ship and the fate of her crew,—twenty all told.
After an uneventful passage round Cape Horn, touching at the Galapagos Islands and on the coast of Chili, she was in latitude 40′ south and longitude 119° west, when a school of whales hove in sight, at about 8 A.M., on the 20th of November. All the boats were sent in pursuit. Owen Chase fastened to a large whale, which in his struggles smashed his boat. By stuffing clothes into the hole he was able to reach the ship, which was hove to not very far away. The captain and the second mate continued in pursuit, and struck another whale. They being to leeward, Mr. Chase bore down to them, and went to work to patch up the hole in his boat. While so occupied, he saw a large sperm whale lying quietly on the ship's weather bow. As in my time I have seen many who doubted the possibility of a ship being stove by a whale, I shall give the exact words of Mr. Chase's narrative.
​"He spouted two or three times, and disappeared. In a few seconds he came up again about a length of the ship off, and made directly for us at the rate of about three knots. The ship was going at about the same rate. His appearance and attitude gave us at first no alarm; but while I stood watching his movements, he came down for us with great celerity. I ordered the boy at the helm to put it hard up, intending to sheer off and avoid him. The words were scarcely out of my mouth before he came at full speed and struck the ship with his head just forward of the fore chains. He gave us such an appalling jar as nearly to throw us off of our feet. The ship brought up as if she had struck a rock, and trembled like a leaf. We looked at each other with amazement, deprived almost of speech. Many minutes elapsed before we realized the dreadful accident, during which time he passed under the ship, grazing the keel, and came up to leeward, and lay apparently stunned for the space of a minute; he then started off to leeward. After recovering in a measure from the consternation that had seized us, I concluded that he had stove a hole in the ship and I must set the pumps at work; but they had not long been at work when I discovered that the ship was settling by the head, when I ordered the recall signal for the boats. I had scarcely done this, when I saw the whale apparently in convulsions about a hundred rods to leeward. He was continually thrashing round and smiting his jaws together, as if in anger. Remaining thus for a short time, he then started off to windward across our bows. By this time the ship had settled down, and I gave her up as lost; but I kept the pumps going. I turned my attention to clearing away the boats and getting ready to embark in them, and while thus engaged I was aroused by the cry that he was coming for us again. He was about one hundred rods ahead, coming for us at full speed, and again struck the ship directly under the cathead, and completely stove in the ​bow. He passed under the ship to leeward, and was seen no more."
This occurred in mid-ocean, more than a thousand miles from the nearest land; the mate cut the spare boat adrift, and prepared to launch her; the steward had been sent into the cabin, and saved two quadrants, two navigators and two trunks belonging to the captain and mate, and two compasses were snatched from the binnacle. The steward was prevented from doing more by the filling of the ship; the boat was launched with her precious cargo, when the ship fell over on her beam ends, full of water. The boats of the captain and second mate had now come to the melancholy scene. Nothing had been saved but the articles mentioned and the crew. The masts were now cut away, when she partially righted; a hole was cut in the deck above where some casks of bread were stowed, and from them about six hundred pounds of dry bread were obtained; water was obtained by scuttling other parts of the deck, so that each boat had about sixty-five gallons. They also procured a musket, some powder, files, rasps, some nails, and some turtle taken from Galapagos Islands. It came on to blow fresh, and the boats were moored to the wreck. On the 21st of November the wreck was visited, and materials for rigging the boats were procured, and also some cedar boards to fit for washboards to the deeply laden boats. On the 22d, consultations were had as to the course to be pursued, and it was concluded to made the best of their way to the southeast, get clear of the trade winds, and make for the coast of America. They left the ship at noon on the 22d, and made all sail to the south-southeast. This was in latitude 13′ north, longitude 120° west. It was agreed that they should keep company; the allowance of food was one biscuit and half a pint of water a day for each man.
In Mr. Chase's chest many useful things were found; among them, some writing-paper and pencils, fish-hooks, a ​knife, and a whetstone. In the captain's chest were found a pair of pistols and ammunition. On the 25th of November, Chase's boat sprung a bad leak; after lightening her with the help of the other boats, the leak was stopped in a degree, so that one man constantly bailing would keep her free. The weather was rough; the deeply laden boats shipped water, and some of the bread was spoiled. During the night of the 27th, the captain's boat was struck by some unknown fish, and seriously injured. By lightening her, the leak was got at, and partially stopped. In consequence of eating some of the water-soaked bread, the men were overcome with intense thirst.
At this time their extreme sufferings commenced, and in the midst of these, they were tantalized by schools of dolphins playing near them; but all efforts to catch one failed. On the 30th, they killed one of the Galapagos turtles, and had a feast. They had now got to nearly 8° south latitude. Longitude could only be guessed at. It was on the 3d of December that they finished the bread that had been wet, and dried in the sun, and had been the cause of so much suffering from thirst. During the dark night the boat of the second mate was lost sight of, but she was soon found. Several times the boats were separated, but were reunited after delay and firing of guns. This brought up thoughts and discussions as to whether it would not be best to separate. On the 8th of December they had a sharp gale, and were compelled to unship the masts and abandon all control of the course of the boats.
By the 9th of December they had got to 17° 40′ south, and had become very much exhausted. Mr. Chase had locked in his chest the small supply of bread, and guarded it with care; and good fortune had sent some flying-fish against the sails, which, dropping into the boats, were quickly devoured, bones, scales, and all.
About the 16th of December, the allowance of bread and ​water was reduced one half. The wind had died out, and the sun was intensely hot. Some relief was found by bathing in the sea; this led to the discovery of barnacles on the boat's bottom, and they were scraped off and eaten with relish. Mr. Chase's boat was so leaky that it became necessary to put on a patch. In order to do this effectually, one of his crew named Benjamin Lawrence went overboard and held a hatchet against the wound, so as to enable the man inside to clinch the nails. They were then in 21° 42′ south. It being now calm, rowing was resorted to; but the extremely enfeebled men made but slight headway, and they became much dispirited.
December 20th, to the great joy of the poor fellows, land was seen. Mr. Chase says, "It is not within the scope of human calculation to divine what were our feelings at this moment." Upon examination of our Bowditch, it was found to be Ducie's Island, latitude 24° 40′ south, longitude 124° 40′ west. After several days of vain search for water, a spring was found which could only be made available at low water. Some fish and some birds were caught, and some shell-fish and birds' eggs were found among the rocks, but nothing like a good meal could be had; everything eatable was devoured uncooked. It was not until the 22d of December that the spring was found; some of the men drank so much as to endanger their lives. The boats were hauled up and made as seaworthy as could be with the limited means at hand. The only thing in the nature of a vegetable found on the island was a sort of pepper-grass in very small quantities.
On the 27th of December they left Ducie's Island, having exhausted all except the water. Notwithstanding the dreary prospect, William Wright and Seth Weeks, of Barnstable, and Thomas Chapple, of Plymouth, England, concluded to remain on the island. At the island they had provided themselves with flat stones to serve as hearths on which to cook anything they might fall in with.
​The only sign of the island having been visited was the name of a ship, the "Elizabeth," cut on a tree. It had been the intention to go for Easter Island; but adverse winds and a scarcity of food induced them to go for Juan Fernandez, somewhere to the east-southeast from the wanderers. On the 7th of January, 1820, they were in latitude 30° 18′ south, longitude 117° 29° west.
On the 10th occurred the first death, M. P. Joy, the second mate; he did not die of starvation, though much exhausted by a meagre diet. On the 12th, a storm set in, and the boats became separated and were never again brought together; this was in latitude 32° 16′ south, longitude 112° 20′ west. The allowance of bread in Chase's boat had been reduced to one ounce and a half per day.
Among the crew of twenty there were six colored men; one of Chase's was caught in the act of stealing bread and was let off on promise of abstaining in future. On the 15th of January a large shark joined company, and made several attacks on the boat, but finally left without doing any damage; on the 16th, they were surrounded by porpoises, but none could be caught for want of a harpoon; and on the 18th, whales were spouting round. On the 20th, one of the colored men named Richard Peterson died, and the next day he was committed to the sea in latitude 35° 07′, longitude 105° 46′ west.
Mr. Chase says, on the 8th of February: "Our sufferings were now drawing to a close; a terrible death appeared to await us; hunger became extreme; our speech and reason seemed to be impaired."
Isaac Cole became mad, and gave up in despair, and soon died. The next day preparations were being made for his burial. Consultation was held, and the terrible verdict rendered was, that he must serve as food to save his companions.
Chase's journal says:—
"We separated his limbs from the body, cut off all the ​flesh, took out the heart, sewed up the remains in canvas, and committed it to the deep; and making a fire, partook of it, and preserved the remainder for future use. In this manner we disposed of our fellow sufferer, the painful recollection of which brings to my mind some of the most revolting ideas that it is capable of conceiving.
"We knew not to whose lot it would fall next, either to die or to be shot. Humanity shudders at the recital. The next morning, 10th February, we found the flesh spoiling, and made a fire to cook it to prevent its being wholly lost. For six or seven days we lived on it, not using of our remnant of bread. On the 15th, our stock of flesh was exhausted, and we were down to the last morsel of our bread, consisting of two cakes. Our limbs had become swelled, and pained us excessively. We were still some three hundred miles from land.
"On the 17th we saw indications of land, which we hoped might be Massafuero. The next morning a boy named Thomas Nicholson lay down to die. I endeavored to convince him that it was wicked to abandon reliance on Providence while the least hope remained; but he felt unwilling to listen to my consolatory suggestions."
At 7 A.M. the next day there was a cry of "Sail ho!" and a vessel was seen about seven miles off. They went for her, were soon picked up, and given small portions of food made from tapioca, and in a few days they were considerably recruited. The vessel proved to be the brig Indian, Captain William Crozier, of London. They were rescued in latitude 33° 45′ south, longitude 81° 03′ west. At noon on that day they saw the island of Massafuero, and on the 25th of February arrived at Valparaiso, where all their wants were promptly relieved.
The captain's boat was found by the whale-ship Dauphin, Captain Zimri Coffin, of Nantucket, and arrived at Valparaiso on the 17th of March. They were taken up in latitude 37° south, off the island of St. Mary's. The third ​boat became separated from the captain's on the 28th of January, and was never heard of more.
The names of the survivors in the two boats are Captain George Pollard, Jr., Charles Ramsdale, Owen Chase, Benjamin Lawrence, and Thomas Nicholson, all of Nantucket.
In the captain's boat there died Brazilla Ray, of Nantucket, Owen Coffin, of the same place, who was shot, and Samuel Reed, a colored man. Captain Pollard stated that, after the separation, he continued to make what progress he could towards Juan Fernandez.
In the boat of the second mate the little stock of food was wholly exhausted, and they resorted to the use of the flesh of a colored man named Lawson Thomas, who had died.
In the captain's boat a like necessity obliged them to sustain life by eating of the body of a colored man named Charles Shorter, who had died. His body was shared between the two boats. Stephen Sheperd, a colored man, died in the boat of the second mate, and another colored man named Samuel Reed died in the Captain's boat, and was used to sustain life. The separation of the two boats was in latitude 35° south, and longitude 100° west. On the 1st of February there was nothing remaining in the captain's boat; the captain and the three remaining men cast lots, and it fell upon Owen Coffin to die, who with great fortitude and submission submitted to his fate. Lots were drawn to see who should be his executioner, and the hard task fell on Charles Ramsdale. On the 11th, Brazilla Ray died, and on these bodies the captain and Ramsdale, the only survivors, subsisted until the morning of the 23d, when they fell in with the Dauphin.
On arrival at Valparaiso, and making known to Captain Downs, of the United States frigate Macedonian, that three men were left on Ducie's Island, he bargained for one thousand dollars with the captain of an English ship bound to ​Australia to stop there and take them off; this he did, and carried them to Sydney, and thence to London. The two Americans, Wright and Weeks, went thence to Boston on the "London Packet," in June, 1822.
These latter facts, and some yet to be stated, are derived from my long-time friend, F. C. Sanford, of Nantucket, who has the history of Nantucket's sons and daughters clearly in his mind.
Captain Pollard on his return to Nantucket took charge of the ship Two Brothers, a whaler, and five months from home struck a reef somewhere to the westward of the Sandwich Islands, and she became a total loss. He never went to sea again, and died in 1870, aged eighty-one.
Owen Chase, on the other hand, was always fortunate. In 1832 a fine ship, the Charles Carrol, was built for him on Brant Point, Nantucket, and he filled her twice, each time with twenty-eight hundred barrels of sperm oil. He died in 1869, aged seventy-three.
There are no survivors remaining of the ill-fated Essex. From the source named I learn that, when a black man died in one of the boats, another one partook of his liver, became mad, and jumped overboard. Benjamin Lawrence died about 1869, then over eighty years of age. Nickerson died in 1882, aged seventy-seven.
More than three months the crew of the Essex were in open boats, and at Ducie's Island. A touching incident of this dreadful tragedy occurred on board of the captain's boat, when it became necessary to draw lots to see who should die to save others. The lot fell on Coffin, who was cousin to Captain Pollard, and, as I infer from Mr. Sanford's statement, Pollard wished to take his place; but Coffin claimed the right to be sacrificed to save his companions. There is something touchingly sublime in this self-sacrifice.
It has often been suggested, and I think with reason, that, on leaving the Essex, Captain Pollard should have put ​away to the westward towards the Society or Navigators' Islands. I suppose, however, that, having no charts and no means of determining their longitude, and in the then uncivilized condition of the Pacific Islands, it was considered best to go for the broadside of America. It seems late to make comments on the course pursued, but I may be pardoned for suggesting that, while the men were in good condition, they should have pulled to the eastward, in the track of whale-ships, not far from the equator.
If any one should doubt the power of a sperm whale to knock a hole in the bluff of the bow of an ordinary ship, let me refer to the case of the United States sloop-of-war Peacock, which ship, about 1826, while on a wind under all sail, going seven or eight knots, ran against a sperm whale, or awakened a sleeping whale, which in its flurry to clear the ship ran against her stem and caused her to leak. The ship was not badly injured, but the stem and cutwater were started.
I have endeavored to procure an account of the sufferings of one Captain Caseneau, who was long on a wreck with part of his crew, and they were driven to the necessity of prolonging life by the "dernier resort";—not cannibalism; to call it so is to insult every survivor of the Greely expedition. Caseneau, if I remember rightly, contrived a machine while on the wreck by which he condensed steam from sea-water, and so made fresh water. One of our oldest merchants, Mr. Thomas Lamb, says the details of the case referred to can be found in an old paper called "The Mariner's Chronicle." If any reader of this sketch should happen to know of such a paper, I desire to be informed of it.
In an old book called "The Book of the Sea" may be found many narratives of wrecks, among them that of Captain W. L. Cazeneau, who sailed on the 12th of Decem​ber, 1811, from Boston for Santa Croix, in the brig Polly, of 139 tons, loaded with lumber and provisions. The crew consisted of the captain, a mate, four seamen, and a cook. There were two passengers,—Mr. I. S. Hunt and a young negro girl. Not many days after sailing they encountered a severe gale from the southeast; the brig sprung a leak, became water-logged, and capsized, when Mr. Hunt was washed overboard. The lanyards of the rigging were cut away, when she righted, full of water. The negro girl soon perished from exposure. After remaining in this situation some twelve days, the cook, who was an Indian, contrived to make a fire by rubbing sticks together, and they cooked some salt pork. Fortunately the camboose did not go overboard. A cask of water lashed on deck gave them drink: this lasted eighteen days. At the end of forty days their meat was all gone, and famine stared them in the face. The mate, Mr. Paddock, died. The vessel being nearly submerged, their sufferings were dreadful. They built a sort of shanty between the windtop and the knightheads which gave them partial protection. The next to die was a young man named Howes, who went mad. They had then been fifty-six days exposed to all the vicissitudes of winter weather. Their sufferings from want of water were excessive. About this time the old adage that "necessity is the mother of invention" was happily illustrated by Captain Cazeneau, who contrived a distilling apparatus by using the teakettle, the boiler (or coppers), and the barrel of a pistol, whereby a very scanty supply of fresh water was obtained. Their food at this time consisted of barnacles taken from the bottom of the brig and some small shell-fish found on the seaweed. When by drifting to the eastward the shell-fish failed, they succeeded in catching a shark, and living on this permitted the barnacles to grow. On the 15th of March the cook died. By adding a second pistol-barrel to the first, they increased the supply of water to eight bottles in ​twenty-four hours. About the middle of April another man, named Johnson, died. They seemed now to have arrived at the end of their food, when it was proposed to use part of Johnson's body for bait to toll up a shark. In this they succeeded, and afterwards had no lack of food.
They had by this time drifted as near as they could estimate to latitude 28° north, and longitude 13° west, when they were rescued by the British ship Fame, of Hull, from Rio Janeiro, bound home. They had been on the wreck one hundred and ninety-one days. On the 9th of July they fell in with the brig Dromo, Captain Perkins, who landed them at Kennebunk. Although during this terrible experience they were not compelled directly to subsist on human flesh, they were fortunate in making it useful to procure subsistence.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse