Rush Oh! by Shirley Barrett

Author:Shirley Barrett [Barrett, Shirley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Macmillan
Published: 2015-07-30T04:00:00+00:00

The Boat-Breaker

As a rule, whales are distinctly bovine in temperament. If they lived in a paddock, they would stand about chewing their cud and staring into the middle distance. If they saw another whale sitting down under a tree, they would think to themselves, ‘Maybe I will sit down under the tree also.’ Then, when they got to the tree, they would think, ‘Why did I come over to the tree again? I can’t remember.’ And they would start to wander off again. And then they would think, ‘Oh, look at that whale sitting under a tree. Maybe I will sit under a tree also.’ (I will desist from this allegory now as I feel it is becoming rather strained.) Suffice to say, whales are placid, dull creatures and mean no harm. But every now and then comes a whale different to other whales, and that whale is known as a boat-breaker.

Such was the whale to whose tail, by means of harpoon, my father’s boat had just attached itself. As mentioned previously, the harpooner Arthur Ashby was an excellent aim, but so fast was this whale and so erratic its movements that on this occasion his harpoon fell short and found purchase on that narrowing section between the whale’s flukes and body. This is perhaps the least desirable part of a whale’s anatomy to which to attach oneself, for it seems to be extremely sensitive, as was demonstrated by such wild thrashings on the part of the whale that my father had no choice but to cut loose for fear of damaging his boat. The second boat, in close attendance, was then ordered to fasten on, and here my brother Harry did himself credit by landing his harpoon just at the back of the whale’s blowholes. So stunned was he at his success that he forgot that it was now necessary to change positions with Salty.

‘Change over, boy, change over!’ cried Salty. ‘Oars up, men! Let’s let the old girl run!’

The men lifted their oars up high out of the water, locked their handles into the peak chocks and braced themselves for the wild ride. Doing their utmost not to become entangled in this lethal line, the two men scrambled over the oarsmen to assume their new positions. Reaching the bow now and jamming his thigh in the clumsy cleat, Salty took a good look at their adversary. ‘Damn it to hell! White spots! Say your prayers, men!’

For sure enough, the monster had two distinct white spots – old harpoon scars – clearly visible on its back. The Killers were doing their utmost to contain the whale’s flight, but the canny whale embarked on a series of sharp zigzags in a bid to throw them off. Finally, in desperation, it dived. The Killers dived as well, and for several frightening moments it appeared that the whale might travel down so deep as to pull the entire whaleboat down with it. But the Killers drove it up again and as it

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