The Beaufort tribune and Port Royal commercial. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1877-1879, 1877-10-25
TAKING A SWORDFISH.
Terrible Struggle with an Air.tisht Barrel
Attached to q Harpo0n.

TAKING A SWORDFISH.
Terrible Struggle with an Air.tiRht Barrel
Attached to q Harpoon.
It was some time before we could dis
tinguish the speck, rising and falling
with the sea, which had attracted the old
whaleman's attention. Soon he pro-
nounced it q " fish," and after putting
us on the other tack to run down partly
to leeward of it, went below to bring up
the irons. When we had worked perhaps
mile before it, we lay ofor our final in.
structions, the skipper took the wheel
to "keep her head on if yer car, and
the one who held the air-tight barrel
was told "When y're sure I've struck
him, over with it.
He was as cool as o cucumber, as he
took the harpoon and cutting spade for
ward, coiling the line Zone end OF which
was fast to the harpoon, the other to the
barreD carefully on deck, with the eau
ton "Ware when it fakes out, and
taking only enough with him to his roost
on the bowsprit end to give him ample
elbow room. His station reached, ne
fixed the shade in the support ready to
receive it, laid the iron in front OF him
across the cage, waved his hand, and we
filled away, close hauled. Never was
mile more slowly sailed by the little
group in the pit of the White Cloud.
Never had our hearts beaten faster
than as We neared the fifteen feet fish,
rolling, asleep, in the trough of the sea.
Now the pilot is almost over him slow
ly he raises the iron, braces himself,
and hurles it with oil the strength OF
sinewy arms. The iron sinks deeply
into the sleeping fish there is mighty
surge, the line flakes overheard as quick
ly as thought, the float splashes as it
disappears beneath the water, then all
is still. We luff and wait. Presently
up bobs the float. The fish finding the
strain of the air-tight barrel too severe
is coming to the surface. Now the water
bubbles and boils just under our lee,
and the swordfish breaches himself
savagely, and swims at lightning speed
for the barrel. He strikes it again and
again with his sword, but it rests so
lightly on top of the water that he can.
not iniure it. Then he stops, looks at
us an instant, and darts toward the boat.
We have not time to bring her head
around, and if he strikes it will be amid
ships. The pilot comes quickly aft,
bringing his long-handled, three
conered spade, and, as the fislr comes
within striking distance, aims one swift,
unerring blow full at his forehead. The
terrible sword drops harmless, the up.
per muscles at it's base are severed, and
he passes under us, iarring the boat
and splashing us with water as he
sounds. =.
Again the float goes under and is out
of sight a longer time than before.
Again the fish throws himself out OF
water, showing his sword down at an
angle of forty-fve degrees. He swims
once or twice around the barrel, then
starts to windward at too furious speed
to last with the float ploughing behind
him. When we beat up he is feebly
fighting it. He sounds for short time,
but comes up exhausted. Once or twice
he rolls over on his side, but recovers
himself and swims on in short tacks.
We press him too closely. and he charges
us again, but we make no effort to avoid
him, knowing that now he is powerless
to iniure us, nor does he try to strike,
apparently realizing that his weapon is
useless, but goes under, coming up the
other side.
And so he sounds and swims, fights
and runs, until at last he succumbs to
exhaustion and lies still. We work up
alongside. and as we luff the pilot puts a
lance into his very life. There is q
shudder along his whole body, his fins
work convulsively moirent, and then
he lies motionless and dead. We rig o
tackle to our mainmast, and after con.
siderable labor get him aboard, where
we can examine at our leisure his pecul.
lar shape, and admire his graceful
"clipper build" Our Nantucketer esti.
mates his weight at between $40 and 6O(
pounds. His sword is over three feet
in length, it's broken point and nickeo
edges proving that its owner was an old
as we'll as fighting fish.
Our fish is on board, and after reser9'
ing a few choice cuts, turned over to oul
pilot, who asks that we run into Martha'f
Vineyard that he may dispose OF him be.
fore he spoils. And 80 We set gaf and
lib topsails, haul off before the wind,
and Law our course northward.-F0res
| and Stream.