Chapters

22 Merry Christmas CHAPTER 22 MERRY CHRISTMAS. At length, towards noon, upon the final dismissal of the ship’s riggers, and after the Pequod had been hauled outhauled out: Typically, to get under way, a ship was pulled away from the dock by a rowboat, or even a steam tugboat in this era, far enough to catch a breeze; it then dropped anchor to make final preparations, raised her anchor, set sail, and departed. The text compresses the time needed for these activities and omits some details. Although Melville would have participated in this procedure when he left Fairhaven on his first whaling vessel, the Acushnet, he did not visit Nantucket until 1852, and seems not to have known, at the time of writing, that a ship could not have been loaded at the Nantucket wharf as described in Moby-Dick. Because a shallow sandbar had built up across the mouth of Nantucket’s harbor, unloaded vessels had to be towed over the bar, anchored, and then loaded there. from the wharf, and after the ever-thoughtful Charity had come off in a whaleboat, with her last gifther last gift: Both American and British editions print “gift,” even though the subsequent list indicates Charity comes bearing several gifts. The editors of the NN Moby-Dick revised the text by pluralizing gift; MEL retains the singular.—a night-cap for Stubb, the second mate, her brother-in-law, and a spare Bible for the steward—after all this, the two captains, Peleg and Bildad, issued from the cabin, and turning to the chief mate, Peleg said: “Now, Mr. Starbuck, are you sure everything is right? Captain Ahab is all ready—just spoke to him—nothing more to be got from shore, eh? Well, call all hands, then. Muster ’em aft here—blast ’em!” “No need of profane words, however great the hurry, Peleg,” said Bildad, “but away with thee, friend Starbuck, and do our bidding.” How now! Here upon the very point of starting for the voyage, Captain Peleg and Captain Bildad were going it with a high hand on the quarter-deck, just as if they were to be joint-commanders at sea, as well as to all appearances in port. And, as for Captain Ahab, no sign of him was yet to be seen; only, they said he was in the cabin. But then, the idea was, that his presence was by no means necessary in getting the ship under weighgetting the ship under weigh: raising (weighing) the anchor, and steering her well out to sea. Indeed, as that was not at all his proper business, but the pilot’s; and as he was not yet completely recovered—so they said—therefore, Captain Ahab stayed below. And all this seemed natural enough; especially as in the merchant service many captains never show themselves on deck for a considerable time after heaving up the anchor, but remain over the cabin table, having a farewell merry-making with their shore friends, before they quit the ship for good with the pilot. But there was not much chance to think over the matter, for Captain Peleg was now all alive. He seemed to do most of the talking and commanding, and not Bildad. “Aft here, ye sons of bachelors,” he cried, as the sailors lingered at the main-mast. “Mr. Starbuck, drive ’em aft.” “Strike the tent there!”—was the next order. As I hinted before, this whalebone marqueemarquee: tent for someone of high rank. was never pitched except in port; and on board the Pequod, for thirty years, the order to strike the tent was well known to be the next thing to heaving up the anchor. “Man the capstancapstan: upright cylindrical device turned with spoke-like wooden bars, and used for heavy tasks; it becomes a windlass in the next paragraph.! Blood and thunder!—jump!”—was the next command, and the crew sprang for the handspikes. Now, in getting under weigh, the station generally occupied by the pilot is the forward part of the ship. And here Bildad, who, with Peleg, be it known, in addition to his other offices, was one of the licensed pilots of the port—he being suspected to have got himself made a pilot in order to save the Nantucket pilot-fee to all the ships he was concerned in, for he never piloted any other craft—Bildad, I say, might now be seen ac-tively engaged in looking over the bows for the approaching anchor, and at intervals singing what seemed a dismal stave of psalmody, to cheer the hands at the windlasswindlass: horizontal cylindrical machine near the bow, turned with levers (“handspikes”); not to be confused with a capstan, although Melville uses both almost interchangeably., who roared forth some sort of a chorus about the girls in Booble Alleysome sort of a chorus about the girls in Booble Alley: In contrast to Bildad's "dismal" New England Church version of a biblical psalm, this "profane" song is probably the shanty "Haul Away Joe," with its line, "The gals o' Booble Alley." While docked in Liverpool during the summer of 1839, Melville took his meals close by the red-light district street by this name, which also appears in Redburn. (See Stuart M. Frank, "'Cheer'ly Man,'" New England Quarterly 58.), with hearty good will. Nevertheless, not three days previous, Bildad had told them that no profane songs would be allowed on board the Pequod, particularly in getting under weigh; and Charity, his sister, had placed a small choice copy of WattsWatts: popular hymnist Isaac Watts (1674–1748) composed rhymed versions of biblical psalms. in each seaman’s berth. Meantime, overseeing the other part of the ship, Captain Peleg ripped and swore astern in the most frightful manner. I almost thought he would sink the ship before the anchor could be got up; involuntarily I paused on my handspike, and told Queequeg to do the same, thinking of the perils we both ran, in starting on the voyage with such a devil for a pilot. I was comforting myself, however, with the thought that in pious Bildad might be found some salvation, spite of his seven hundred and seventy-seventh lay; when I felt a sudden sharp poke in my rear, and turning round, was horrified at the apparition of Captain Peleg in the act of withdrawing his leg from my immediate vicinity. That was my first kick. “Is that the way they heave in the marchant service?” he roared. “Spring, thou sheep-head; spring, and break thy backbone! Why don’t ye spring, I say, all of ye—spring! Quohag!REVISION NARRATIVE: spring I say, all of ye—spring! Quohag! // “Quohag” may be another of Peleg’s comic variations on Queequeg’s name (including Quohog and Hedgehog), or a misspelling of his favorite nickname, Quohog. The British edition gives “Quohog,” which may be a correction by either Melville or an editor, or itself a typo. The editors of the NN Moby-Dick adopt the British version, and it also revises the first exclamation point to a comma, thus making the second “spring” refer to Queequeg and thereby bringing the command in parallel to the following similar commands. MEL makes no change. To compare American and British pages, click the thumbnails in the right margin. spring, thou chap with the red whiskers; spring there, Scotch-capScotch-cap: referring to a sailor wearing a brimless cap with two streamers.; spring, thou green pants. Spring, I say, all of ye, and spring your eyes out!” And so saying, he moved along the windlass, here and there using his leg very freely, while imperturbable Bildad kept leading off with his psalmody. Thinks I, Captain Peleg must have been drinking something to-day. At last the anchor was up, the sails were set, and off we glided. It was a short, cold Christmas; and as the short northern day merged into night, we found ourselves almost broad upon the wintry ocean, whose freezing spray cased us in ice, as in polished armor. The long rows of teeth on the bulwarks glistened in the moonlight; and like the white ivory tusks of some huge elephant, vast curving icicles depended from the bows. Lank Bildad, as pilot, headed the first watch, and ever and anon, as the old craft deep dived into the green seas, and sent the shivering frost all over her, and the winds howled, and the cordage rang, his steady notes were heard,— Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood,“Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood . . . While Jordan rolled between.”: Stanza 3 of Watts’s “A Prospect of Heaven Makes Death Easy,” also known as “There is a Land of Pure Delight.” Stand dressed in living green. So to the Jews old Canaan stood, While Jordan rolled between.” Never did those sweet words sound more sweetly to me than then. They were full of hope and fruition. Spite of this frigid winter night in the boisterous Atlantic, spite of my wet feet and wetter jacket, there was yet, it then seemed to me, many a pleasant haven in store; and meads and glades so eternally vernal, that the grass shot up by the spring, untrodden, unwilted, remains at midsummer. At last we gained such an offing, that the two pilots were needed no longer. The stout sail-boat that had accompanied us began ranging alongside. It was curious and not unpleasing, how Peleg and Bildad were affected at this juncture, especially Captain Bildad. For loath to depart, yet; very loath to leave, for good, a ship bound on so long and perilous a voyage—beyond both stormy Capesboth stormy Capes: Cape Horn and the Cape of Good Hope.; a ship in which some thousands of his hard earned dollars were invested; a ship, in which an old shipmate sailed as captain; a man almost as old as he, once more starting to encounter all the terrors of the pitiless jaw; loath to say good-bye to a thing so every way brimful of every interest to him,—poor old Bildad lingered long; paced the deck with anxious strides; ran down into the cabin to speak another farewell word there; again came on deck, and looked to windward; looked towards the wide and endless waters, only bounded by the far-off unseen Eastern Continents; looked towards the land; looked aloft; looked right and left; looked everywhere and nowhere; and at last, mechanically coiling a rope upon its pinpin: belaying pin. , convulsively grasped stout Peleg by the hand, and holding up a lantern, for a moment stood gazing heroically in his face, as much as to say, “Nevertheless, friend Peleg, I can stand it; yes, I can.” As for Peleg himself, he took it more like a philosopher; but for all his philosophy, there was a tear twinkling in his eye, when the lantern came too near. And he, too, did not a little run from cabin to deck—now a word below, and now a word with Starbuck, the chief mate. But, at last, he turned to his comrade, with a final sort of look about him,—“Captain Bildad—come, old shipmate, we must go. Back the main-yardback the main-yard: turn the mainsail so the wind strikes the front of the sail (and slows the ship).  there! Boat ahoy! Stand by to come close alongside, now! Careful, careful!—come, Bildad, boy—say your last. Luck to ye, Starbuck—luck to ye, Mr. Stubb—luck to ye, Mr. Flask—good-bye, and good luck to ye all—and this day three years I’ll have a hot supper smoking for ye in old Nantucket. Hurrah and away!” “God bless ye, and have ye in His holy keeping, men,” murmured old Bildad, almost incoherently. “I hope ye’ll have fine weather now, so that Captain Ahab may soon be moving among ye—a pleasant sun is all he needs, and ye’ll have plenty of them in the tropic voyage ye go. Be careful in the hunt, ye mates. Don’t stavestave: smash; past tense is stove. the boats needlessly, ye harpooneers; good white cedar plank is raised full three per cent. within the year. Don’t forget your prayers, either. Mr. Starbuck, mind that cooper don’t waste the spare staves. Oh! the sail-needles are in the green locker! Don’t whale it too much a’ Lord’s days, men; but don’t miss a fair chance either, that’s rejecting Heaven’s good gifts. Have an eye to the molasses tiercetierce: 42-gallon barrel., Mr. Stubb; it was a little leaky, I thought. If ye touch at the islands, Mr. Flask, beware of fornicationREVISION NARRATIVE: If ye touch at the islands, Mr. Flask, beware of fornication // The British edition expurgated this sentence. To compare American and British pages, click the thumbnails in the right margin.. Good-bye, good-bye! Don’t keep that cheese too long down in the hold, Mr. Starbuck; it’ll spoil. Be careful with the butter—twenty cents the pound it was, and mind ye, if—” “Come, come, Captain Bildad; stop palavering,—away!” and with that, Peleg hurried him over the side, and both dropt into the boat. Ship and boat diverged; the cold, damp night breeze blew between; a screaming gull flew overhead; the two hulls wildly rolled; we gave three heavy-hearted cheers, and blindly plunged like fate into the lone Atlantic.