Mountain had a whale of a time...

November 20^th – Would you allow me to give you the definition of poetic justice…? You would! Excellent. Kick back and enjoy.

Mountain was an interesting 70’s band that put together some excellent albums of music. Using intelligent research and apocryphal tales from their region they layered out a selection of poetic and stimulating work, none more so than Nantucket Sleighride. A track off’f their second album of the same name released in 1971, it gained popularity through its use as credit music for the British political programme, Weekend World aired in the 70’s/80’s on London Weekend Television (LWT). I’ve had a liking for the track since then. There’s a story-line trajectory to the music that conjures up the fast movement like an out-of-control ride on a tin-tray down a very snowy slope, or a big dipper that’s decided to go by its own rules and it wasn’t until I discovered what a Nantucket Sleighride was that I connected with the route the music takes and how accurate it was.

Now, I should say here and now that the following can be a little upsetting for those of a nervous disposition all I can ask is that you remember the opening line of this missive and just stick with it. Trust me, I’d never take you on a journey that was hurtful to you, honest, but what follows is a true tale that I’ve tried to make a little less heavy. However if you are at all squeamish then best not read further. OK? Right. On with it.

You’ll all know this so forgive me for being a little slow on the uptake, OK?

A Nantucket Sleighride was the euphemism used by 19^th Century whalers to describe what took place once the harpooned leviathan made to distance itself from the longboat. The harpoon was attached to the boat by a rope and the whale dragged the boat and the men along at sometimes terrifying speeds until it became exhausted and could be hauled along side, made fast and dispatched. This was the whaling industry of the 19^th Century, a cruel and bloody business. What one has to remember is that the uses these whales were put to were part of commerce and at that time no substitute was available…not like now where there is, in 99.999999% of cases, perfectly serviceable replacements for the continuing slaughter of whales and dolphins; it’s only the meat that has no replacement and it’s only in the far east there seems to be no desire to stop consuming this luxury item. But that’s not what this blurb is all about. Once I’d discovered what the title of the track meant, I researched the background…and here’s the pay-off.

It turns out that Nantucket Sleighride was inspired by a true event that took place on this day in 1820. Whilst out whaling in the southern Pacific Ocean, thousands of miles from land, the whaling ship, Essex out of Nantucket, was rammed and sunk by a sperm whale. As a by product of this event, Herman Melville wrote Moby Dick but that’s by-the-by, it’s what happened after that collision that intrigues, and here I’ll précis as much as possible.

The crew scrambled into the poorly equipped harpoon boats and eventually made it to one of the nearby islands. Had they gone a relatively short distance (100+km) in a SW direction they would have reached Pitcairn Island where there were a few survivors of HMS Bounty still living and things would have turned very differently. As it was they went the other way and lolled up on the uninhabited island of Henderson. They gorged on what wild creatures they could find, quickly exhausting what the island had to offer by way of gourmet dining and, realising they would starve if they stayed, set off toward the Easter Islands…but drifted way off course and decided to head for Mas e Tierra Island some 2,926 km east. Then the three boats became separated as delirium and tide took its toll on directional abilities. With no food, no fresh water and little room in the first boat, one by one the men began to die. The first couple were stitched into their clothes and buried at sea, as is the custom. The next man, Albert Cole, was stashed aside as it was realised that here was the men’s salvation; a ready source of protein. They didn’t take much persuading to indulge in cannibalism and the men in this boat had finished up Mr. Cole and were on the verge of starvation again when, 90 days after parting company, they were rescued by another whaling vessel, Indian.

The other two whaleboats, one with the captain, Mr. Pollard, on board with three others, also ran out of food very quickly and, as with the first whaleboat, cannibalism ensued. These two boats stayed in contact for a while but eventually drifted apart, the one boat and its men never being seen again. On the third boat the men weren’t dying fast enough to satisfy the hunger of the remainder so lots were drawn as to who would be sacrificed to save the crew. A 17 year-old lad (aptly named Owen Coffin) drew the black spot, was shot and a hearty feast ensued. Reduced to such a diet and drinking their own urine it was a sure-fire thing that there would be further casualties and a second seaman died, mercifully of something other than a bullet. Now only two men remained and they only survived by gnawing on the bones of the deceased until they were rescued, 95 days after the sinking of the Essex, by that pesky whale, by  yet another whaleship, Dauphin.

In all, seven corpses had been devoured and although the remaining 8 survivors all returned to sea they suffered much in the way nightmares of their ordeal, some ending their days in mental institutions such was their trauma.

So, what can we say?

Well, how about;

Whaleship Essex 0 – Sperm Whale 7?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KqWqCuHR0Og