Moby Dick Off of Preston.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008 at 9:18pm | Edit Note | Delete
I've been reading a lot of Hemingway these days, in a great book called "By-Line: Ernest Hemingway: Selected Articles and Dispatches of Four Decades"
Spanning the years 1920 to 1956, it shows Hemingway's work as a reporter, from correspondent for the Toronto Star to contributor to Esquire, Colliers, and Look.

I generally do most of my reading in the bathtub. There isn't much in this world that's as good for the soul as reading in the tub.

Tonight in the tub I was reading an article Hemingway wrote titled "There She Breaches! or Moby Dick Off the Morro" It's yet another piece dedicated to fishing for marlin off of the coast of Cuba. This is pre-Castro Cuba, set in 1937. Hemingway was out in a little skiff with 2 Cuban fisherman when they spotted a sperm whale and decided to go after it.

Now before I go on with Hemingway's tale, here's a little of my own. These days I'm working in a salt quarry. We pump a lot of brine water and a lot of it gets on to a man's clothes and skin. So my tub had a particularly salty feel to it tonight, which really added a touch of realism to the article for me as you can well imagine.

So Hemingway and his companions went chasing after this whale, which was substantially larger than their boat. They were madly obsessed of course. Hemingway was all caught up in the adrenaline rush of the hunt, while his Cuban compadres were blinded by the idea of the fortune they'd make and the legendary status they'd achieve if they caught the whale. The trouble was that they had no tackle for whaling. All they had was a weak little harpoon gun that required them to get right alongside of the whale to make their shot count. I won't tell you the whole story, but suffice it to say that a hunter reading this story would have their heart racing. I like whales however, so my heart was racing hoping the whale would get away.

At one point, in the midst of an entire pod of whales, they notice that the water is turning black, and surmise that it must be ink from giant squid that the whales are feeding on below.

Now at this point you're going to be inclined to disbelieve me, which is why I'm including pictures to prove this next part is true.

I was sitting in the bath, reading this, getting wound up, and I shifted my weight to sit up a little straighter. Much like the famous Archimedes this resulted in some water displacement (a little more water displacement than there would have been not too long ago I'm ashamed to say) and a couple of Anderson's toys that were on the side washed into the tub. The 2 toys were a toy sperm whale, and a toy giant squid! Not kidding, not making this up!
Anyway I finished the story and this whale and this squid were all about my nether regions, hunting and evading, and I said to the whale..."Don't worry there little fella, no one's trying to kill you here. There are no Hemingways in this tub