Chapter XCIII: THE CASTAWAY
It was but some few days after encountering the Frenchman, that a most
significant event befell the most insignificant of the Pequod's crew;
an event most lamentable; and which ended in providing the sometimes
madly merry and predestinated craft with a living and ever
accompanying prophecy of whatever shattered sequel might prove her
own. Now, in the whale ship, it is not every one that goes in the
boats. Some few hands are reserved called ship-keepers, whose
province it is to work the vessel while the boats are pursuing the
whale. As a general thing, these ship-keepers are as hardy fellows as
the men comprising the boats' crews. But if there happen to be an
unduly slender, clumsy, or timorous wight in the ship, that wight is
certain to be made a ship-keeper. It was so in the Pequod with the
little negro Pippin by nick-name, Pip by abbreviation. Poor Pip! ye
have heard of him before; ye must remember his tambourine on that
dramatic midnight, so gloomy-jolly. In outer aspect, Pip and
Dough-Boy made a match, like a black pony and a white one, of equal
developments, though of dissimilar color, driven in one eccentric
span. But while hapless Dough-Boy was by nature dull and torpid in
his intellects, Pip, though over tender-hearted, was at bottom very
bright, with that pleasant, genial, jolly brightness peculiar to his
tribe; a tribe, which ever enjoy all holidays and festivities with
finer, freer relish than any other race. For blacks, the year's
calendar should show naught but three hundred and sixty-five Fourth of
Julys and New Year's Days. Nor smile so, while I write that this
little black was brilliant, for even blackness has its brilliancy;
behold yon lustrous ebony, panelled in king's cabinets. But Pip loved
life, and all life's peaceable securities; so that the panic-striking
business in which he had somehow unaccountably become entrapped, had
most sadly blurred his brightness; though, as ere long will be seen,
what was thus temporarily subdued in him, in the end was destined to
be luridly illumined by strange wild fires, that fictitiously showed
him off to ten times the natural lustre with which in his native
Tolland County in Connecticut, he had once enlivened many a fiddler's
frolic on the green; and at melodious even-tide, with his gay ha-ha!
had turned the round horizon into one star-belled tambourine. So,
though in the clear air of day, suspended against a blue-veined neck,
the pure-watered diamond drop will healthful glow; yet, when the
cunning jeweller would show you the diamond in its most impressive
lustre, he lays it against a gloomy ground, and then lights it up, not
by the sun, but by some unnatural gases. Then come out those fiery
effulgences, infernally superb; then the evil-blazing diamond, once
the divinest symbol of the crystal skies, looks like some crown-jewel
stolen from the King of Hell. But let us to the story. It came to
pass, that in the ambergris affair Stubb's after-oarsman chanced so to
sprain his hand, as for a time to become quite maimed; and,
temporarily, Pip was put into his place. The first time Stubb lowered
with him, Pip evinced much nervousness; but happily, for that time,
escaped close contact with the whale; and therefore came off not
altogether discreditably; though Stubb observing him, took care,
afterwards, to exhort him to cherish his courageousness to the utmost,
for he might often find it needful. Now upon the second lowering, the
boat paddled upon the whale; and as the fish received the darted iron,
it gave its customary rap, which happened, in this instance, to be
right under poor Pip's seat. The involuntary consternation of the
moment caused him to leap, paddle in hand, out of the boat; and in
such a way, that part of the slack whale line coming against his
chest, he breasted it overboard with him, so as to become entangled in
it, when at last plumping into the water. That instant the stricken
whale started on a fierce run, the line swiftly straightened; and
presto! poor Pip came all foaming up to the chocks of the boat,
remorselessly dragged there by the line, which had taken several turns
around his chest and neck. Tashtego stood in the bows. He was full
of the fire of the hunt. He hated Pip for a poltroon. Snatching the
boat-knife from its sheath, he suspended its sharp edge over the line,
and turning towards Stubb, exclaimed interrogatively, cut? meantime
pip's blue, choked face plainly looked, Do, for God's sake! All
passed in a flash. In less than half a minute, this entire thing
happened. Damn him, cut! roared Stubb; and so the whale was lost and
Pip was saved. So soon as he recovered himself, the poor little negro
was assailed by yells and execrations from the crew. Tranquilly
permitting these irregular cursings to evaporate, Stubb then in a
plain, business-like, but still half humorous manner, cursed Pip
officially; and that done, unofficially gave him much wholesome
advice. The substance was, Never jump from a boat, Pip, except --but
all the rest was indefinite, as the soundest advice ever is. Now, in
general, Stick to the boat, is your true motto in whaling; but cases
will sometimes happen when Leap from the boat, is still better.
Moreover, as if perceiving at last that if he should give undiluted
conscientious advice to Pip, he would be leaving him too wide a margin
to jump in for the future; Stubb suddenly dropped all advice, and
concluded with a peremptory command, Stick to the boat, Pip, or by the
Lord, I wont pick you up if you jump; mind that. We can't afford to
lose whales by the likes of you; a whale would sell for thirty times
what you would, Pip, in Alabama. Bear that in mind, and don't jump
any more. Hereby perhaps Stubb indirectly hinted, that though man
loved his fellow, yet man is a money-making animal, which propensity
too often interferes with his benevolence. But we are all in the
hands of the Gods; and Pip jumped again. It was under very similar
circumstances to the first performance; but this time he did not
breast out the line; and hence, when the whale started to run, Pip was
left behind on the sea, like a hurried traveller's trunk. Alas!
Stubb was but too true to his word. It was a beautiful, bounteous,
blue day; the spangled sea calm and cool, and flatly stretching away,
all round, to the horizon, like gold-beater's skin hammered out to the
extremest. Bobbing up and down in that sea, Pip's ebon head showed
like a head of cloves.
No boat-knife was lifted when he fell so rapidly astern. Stubb's
inexorable back was turned upon him; and the whale was winged. In
three minutes, a whole mile of shoreless ocean was between Pip and
Stubb. Out from the centre of the sea, poor Pip turned his crisp,
curling, black head to the sun, another lonely castaway, though the
loftiest and the brightest. Now, in calm weather, to swim in the open
ocean is as easy to the practised swimmer as to ride in a
spring-carriage ashore. But the awful lonesomeness is
intolerable. The intense concentration of self in the middle of such a
heartless immensity, my God! who can tell it? Mark, how when sailors
in a dead calm bathe in the open sea --mark how closely they hug their
ship and only coast along her sides. But had Stubb really abandoned
the poor little negro to his fate? No; he did not mean to, at least.
Because there were two boats in his wake, and he supposed, no doubt,
that they would of course come up to Pip very quickly, and pick him
up; though, indeed, such considerations towards oarsmen jeopardized
through their own timidity, is not always manifested by the hunters in
all similar instances; and such instances not unfrequently occur;
almost invariably in the fishery, a coward, so called, is marked with
the same ruthless detestation peculiar to military navies and armies.
But it so happened, that those boats, without seeing Pip, suddenly
spying whales close to them on one side, turned, and gave chase; and
Stubb's boat was now so far away, and he and all his crew so intent
upon his fish, that Pip's ringed horizon began to expand around him
miserably. By the merest chance the ship itself at last rescued him;
but from that hour the little negro went about the deck an idiot;
such, at least, they said he was. The sea had jeeringly kept his
finite body up, but drowned the infinite of his soul. Not drowned
entirely, though. Rather carried down alive to wondrous depths, where
strange shapes of the unwarped primal world glided to and fro before
his passive eyes; and the miser-merman, Wisdom, revealed his hoarded
heaps; and among the joyous, heartless, ever-juvenile eternities, Pip
saw the multitudinous, God-omnipresent, coral insects, that out of the
firmament of waters heaved the colossal orbs. He saw God's foot upon
the treadle of the loom, and spoke it; and therefore his shipmates
called him mad. So man's insanity is heaven's sense; and wandering
from all mortal reason, man comes at last to that celestial thought,
which, to reason, is absurd and frantic; and weal or woe, feels then
uncompromised, indifferent as his God. For the rest, blame not Stubb
too hardly. The thing is common in that fishery; and in the sequel of
the narrative, it will then be seen what like abandonment befell
myself.