My name is Ishmael. I earn my living as a school master. Whenever I feel depressed and bored with life I go down to the sea-side. Th sight of the sea restores my spirits and makes me feel refreshed.
I love the sea.
In those days, a sailor's life was the most exciting one even though a lot dangerous. Life on ship was harsh an cruel. But the adventure one would meet on a ship, can not be compared with any thing else. The voyages on a ship opened out sight and vistas of astonishing new worlds\ worlds of mystery and wonder. To top it all, if one enlisted as a sailor, one got paid for the adventures one enjoyed!
What more could I asked for? I loved adventure and I loved the sea, and I was able to see those far away places, of which I had only read earlier.
I had another yearning too- of hunting a whale. I had always been intrested in the whales- those huge, mysterous monsters as tall as mountains whose breaths rose in spouts of mist that were higher than tree tops.
So, when one day, I felt the urge to visit the sea once again, I decided not to waste any tim. For change, I thought I would go on a whaling ship, rather than a merchent vessel. I knew that for this purpose I would have to go the original home of whaling, which has Nantucket, an island just off the coast of Massachusetts.
To arrive at Nantucket, I had to first reach New Bedford.
On a cold, rainy December night, I reached New Bedford. I wasin for some bad news. I was in for some bad news. I was told that, the last boat of the day, had left for Nantucket, and that there wouldn't be another one till Monday morning
I felt bad, I did not have extra money for my stay at New Bedford. But I had no choice. There was still a Saturday, and a Sunday night to consider. I decided to look for a low-cost inn, to stay at.
Leaving at the well-to -do area of New Bedford,had headed for the lesser attractive and cheerful inns, near the water front. The wind was very cold and the rain lashed at me as I hurried through the streets, looking for a suitable place to sleep in.
Finally, I came upon a run-down gabled house. The sign which swing over the ramshackle door had a signed on it which read "The Spouter Inn Peter Caffin' There was a picture o a jet of spray above the words.
I was not very happy but had no choice, so I knocked at the door.
'It's better than spending the night outdoor and frezzing to dealth!' I thought.
As no one answered my knock,I pushed the door open myself. There right infront of me was a picture of a sinking ship and a whale !
'How dismal,' I thought.
Frightening looking weapons of all kinds including clubs, spears, whaling lances and rusty harpoons were hanging on one wall. The bar was shape oddly. It looked like the inside of a whale open mouth, with an old, wrinkled bar-tender, who was serving people from inside it.
I was astonished at what I saw. The landlord came up.
'May, I have a room please?' I asked him.
'I'm sorry youngman, I don't have a room,' he started to say and then paused, as if recalling something.
But wait, yes, there is a bed, which you can share with a harpooner,' he suggested
I did not like the idea at all but considered the situation.
'You know, he's a goodman, a brave harpooner, always pays on time. And yes, I have ever heard that he can lance a whale that's very far in the distance- suchis his skill,' the landlord concluded' with an air of pride, as if he had a hand in harpooner's skill.
'As I have no choice, I will do as you suggest. It's not possible for me to look for anything better, outside, in this kind of weather. So show me the room, please,' I told him
He took me upstairs, to a small room, which was as cold as the air outside. The room hardly had any furniture except a large bed which could easily accomodate four people, an old sea-chest, a roughself and a very old wooden chair. I saw a tall harpoon beside the bed and a sea-man's bag on the floor.
I left my things in the room and went downstairs, with the landlord to have my supper. I kept on nervously loooking at the door, as if expecting the harpooner to come in. But he didn't.
It had grown quite late by then.I went over to landlord.
'Where is he? It is so late and he still has not come in. He will come late and disturb my sleep. Why does he keep such late hours?
'Well usually, he doesnt keep such late hour's but I guess, he must be selling his heads!' said the landlord.
'What? His what did you say?' Where is he? I asked exclaimed.
'Don't get alarmed. He is from South Seas, New Zealand I think, and has just arrived from there with lot of shrunken embalmed heads. He sells them as curios, you know Acually he sold all except one, so his out trying to sell it.'
He sounds dangerous, to me,' I said.
'As I told you, he pays well and in time and that's all I'm concerned about,' said the landlord turning away to get on with his work.
After my meal, I climed up the stairs, to my room. I slipped into huge bed and soon fall asleep.
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