I’ve hunted whale and fished for cod,
But these were empty charms
‘Til I met a woman sent from God
And held her in my arms.
But whatever Power sent her forth
Grew jealous of her light
And required the life of this good wife
Who left me on this night.
Again I walk a moving deck
Watching for the whale
To throw my spear in angry fear
Into the savage gale.
I cried out to this massive foe
To rise above the rail.
In this ship’s hold I’d have its soul
And wrap it in a sail.
But I’ve searched the waves of Naples’s caves
Watching for a spray.
I’ve wandered round the Puget Sound
To San Francisco Bay.
I sailed the seas of gentle breeze
And those that drowned my crew,
But not a sign of any kind
Came into my view.
I’ve moved through worlds of silent ice
And down to the China Sea,
But all was dead as molten lead.
There was nothing there to see.
My cabin boy said, “Captain, sir,
It’s never been this bad!
We’ve spotted greys on the worst of days.”
And I thought: “My dear lad,
“There’s nothing underneath us, boy,
As there’s Nothing overhead
But stars whirlin’ round without a sound
To bear away our dead.”
But on our second Easter eve
A monster showed its tail
Of such a size no human eyes
could comprehend the scale.
A hundred yards, a thousand tons
Broke before the dawn.
With brutish moans and hellish tones
She bellowed out her song.
Harpooners all took one step back
Before finding their lost nerve
And rowing out to greet the Beast
Upon her own preserve.
Two boats capsized with all hands lost--
A third made the monster pay,
Pay the cost for our dear loss--
Dying red a sea once grey.
This last crew broke into cheers
So great was their relief.
Across the miles we felt their smiles
In triumph so sadly brief.
The whale emerged in her funeral dirge
Looking for sailors to drown.
Filled with wrath at the loss of her calf
She was intent to murder a town.
Mates and common seamen--all
Met their death that day.
They were killed for sport--starboard and port.
These brave hands were carried away.
*
Having finished her feast, this vile sea beast
Charged my ship, the San Tel.
In our concern at taking water astern
We failed to kill this black whale.
The San Tel’s breech was below our reach--
Her bow ribs buckled like bread.
The masts collapsed, the men were trapped.
The boy was already dead.
In rage and fear I seized a spear
And stopped the whale’s evil dance.
As the twisted plank of my ship sank,
I clung to the rope of my lance.
How many waves, how many days
Lay I on this mother of death--
Blinded by light brutally bright
Fighting for life, for breath?
Repelled at first--'til convinced by thirst--
I suckled dead breasts like a child,
A child whose mother was slain by another,
Another mad beast of the wild.
And there was nothing underneath me then
As there was Nothing overhead
But a sun whirlin’ round without a sound
To blind me as one dead.
But on the moon of a century's bloom
We beached upon a shore,
The shore of an island well below Thailand
Whose natives were fond of lore.
I was “brave on my grave”; I was “strong” in their song--
Though they pitied my sightless eyes.
But they loved this song, written so wrong,
As they loved me for telling them lies.
And so I stumbled on a beach
In a world so much more wide
With nothing there within my reach
But sand and sand and tide.
*
There was nothing underneath me then
As there was Nothing overhead
But stars whirlin’ round without a sound
To one day see me dead.
But in the June of 1901
Light touched the starboard eye.
And I saw the prize of my brown wives:
They nursed a blue-eyed son.
I had thought the sea had taken all,
All I had to give:
My crew, my rank, my ship so tall--
And for spite had let me live.
But I was yet to understand
Her waves were not half done.
They had worn away my heart’s decay
And exposed my soul to sun.
They had washed the marrow of my mind
After hunting it through hell
And breaking shrines of many kinds--
They broke my Despair as well.
