The Potato Factory (74 page)

'That be my story, Ikey,' Sperm Whale Sally concluded. 'Sad, but no sadder than most and not as sad as many a poor wretch.' She chuckled and placed her boot on the stomach of an unconscious tar under the table at her feet. 'It were pretty bad at first, ain't too much call for an 'arf crown Judy. I grow'd most skinny them first months. Not every whale man likes a four 'undred pound cuddle!' Sperm Whale Sally hooted with laughter. 'It's the 'Mericans what most favoured me, but they ain't always in port. But then, three year ago. I come up with this Blue Sally lark, and now I eats well with a bit to spare for when the whalin' ships be out to sea.' She nudged the man at her feet with the toe of her boot. 'I loves these whalemen, Ikey. They come in from the cruel, cold sea proper starvin' for a bit o' love and cuddlin'.' She started to positively wobble with laughter, 'and I 'as a lot of lovin' to give 'em if they got the stamina to win it!' She lifted her tankard of Bitter Rosie and swallowed half of it in one great gulp. 'Ikey Solomon, we goes back a long ways, it be most lovely to see you again!'

The Blue Sally Challenge was a grand contest known to the crew of every whaling ship that sailed the Pacific Ocean. The Blue Sally was treasured among whalemen above anything else they took to sea, and some of the more superstitious considered it a matter of life or death that the vessel they sailed in carried it flying from the topmast, even though it was nothing more than a modest piece of bunting, a white flag with the outline in blue of a sperm whale stitched upon it. It was common enough in whaling ports around the world for a ship's master or agent recruiting whalemen for the season to be asked two questions: the crewman's share of the catch and, 'Capt'n, do she sail under a Blue Sally?' So important had the flying of the Blue Sally become that a whaling ship sailing into a Pacific port without the blue and white bunting flying from her masthead was the subject of more than a little raucous innuendo as to the masculine nature of the men aboard her.

How this peculiar and unique contest first came about is a story best told by Sperm Whale Sally herself. She recounted it to Ikey early one morning when she was sufficiently sober, having eliminated that night's Blue Sally challenger with such a degree of ease that she was still happily tucking into a leg of pork alone at the challenge table, her opponent stretched out unconscious under it, both arms folded across his chest.

'As you knows, lovey, eatin' is me passion, and drinkin' is me Gawd given gift! So I decides to combine both in a grand competition. If them fuckers won't pay 'arf a crown for me body, they'll do so for me north and south, for me great cake 'ole.' Sperm Whale Sally laughed.

'I needs a story, whalemen being most superstitious and given to legends and the like. So I invents me own. It be a real beauty, lots of adventure and a grand opportunity for me voice, me bein' an actress an' all. I even invents a song what goes with it. That done the trick, the song, the sea shanty what o' course you've heard a hundred times or more.'

Sperm Whale Sally began to sing in the clear, sweet voice the whalemen loved.

Come gather around me, you jack tars and doxies

I'll sing you the glorious whaleman's tale

Let me tell you the story, of death and the glory

of Rackham ... who rode on the tail of a Whale

So take up your doxy and drink down your ale

And dance a fine jig to a fine fishy tale

We'll fly the Blue Sally wherever we sail

and drink to the health o' the great sperm whale!

It started at dawn on a bright Sabbath morning

When Lord Nelson's body came 'ome pickled in rum

Every jack tar mourned the great British sailor

And drank to their hero as church bells were rung

I be born to the sound o' the bells of St Paul's

Where they buried the sealord all solemn and proper

That very same day harpooner John Rackham

Rode the tail of a whale around Davey Jones' locker

The watch up the mainmast gave out a great shout,

'A six pod to starboard all swimming in strong!'

So they lowered a whale boat, harpoon gun and line

Three cheers for the crew then the whale hunt was on

John Rackham, he stood to his harpoon and line

'Row the boat close, lads, 'til we see its great chest

Steady she goes now, keep the bow straight

Or this great fearless fish will bring all to their rest!'

The boat's bow, on a crest, held still for a moment

Sufficient for Rackham to make good his aim

Then the harpoon flew screaming to carry the line

And buried its head in a great crimson stain

'Steady now, lads, let the fish make his dive

Then he'll turn for the top and the fight'll begin

Ship your oars, boys, take the ride as he runs

For the sperm has a courage that comes from within'

Ten fathoms down the fish turned from its dive

As the harpoon worked in, on the way to his heart

Then he spied the boat's belly directly above him

And he knew they'd pay for this terrible dart!

Fifty tons rose as the fish drove like thunder

Like a cork in a whirlpool the boat spun around

The jaws of the whale smashed through its planking

And the sharks made a meal o' the pieces they found!

John Rackham was saved as the fish drove him upwards

he found himself up on the nose of the whale

With a snort he was tossed sky high and then backwards

and landed most neatly on the great creature's tail

'Let me live! Master Whale, I've a child to be born!

Spare my life and I promise to name it for you!'

'That's a fanciful tale,' cried the furious whale

'But how can I know what you say will be true?'

John Rackham he pondered then started to smile

'Not only its name, but its soul to you too!

And we'll make a white flag with your picture upon it

A great sperm whale emblazoned in blue!'

The great fish turned and swam straight to the ship

With a flick of his tail threw him safe in a sail

Then the deadly dart finally pierced his great heart

Now we fly the Blue Sally to honour the whale!

So take up your doxy and drink down your ale

And dance a fine jig to a fine fishy tale

We'll fly the Blue Sally wherever we sail

and drink to the health o' the great sperm whale!

Sperm Whale Sally started to laugh. 'It were the song and the story. Some likes the song and others the story. Whalemen loves to dance a jig and sing a shanty and they loves a good story too, and so I made 'em two o' the very best I could!'

Sperm Whale Sally always told the story with the utmost sincerity so that the whalemen, anxious for a new sea legend, wanted to believe it and many of them did. Sperm Whale Sally never told the story without singing the song about her dearest papa, whaleman John Rackham, and how he had been nearly killed and then saved by a great sperm whale while hunting in Antarctic waters on the same day that she had been born and Lord Nelson was brought back to England from Cape Trafalgar in Spain, his body pickled in rum to preserve it.

Though Sperm Whale Sally had been born a normal size  baby, she immediately started to grow at an alarming rate, and she needed the breasts of four wet nurses to keep her satisfied. Her concerned mother took her to see a Romany woman who told her that she saw death and life in the form of a great fish. That the fish was her child's birth sign and it had stolen her spirit and exchanged it for its own, so she had a whale as a child, which would continue to grow, and nothing could stop her.

The gypsy prophesied that one day 'the child of the Great Fish' would return to the hunting grounds where the nearest of all fish were to be found. That her fish spirit, looking to find its natural home so that her own human spirit might return to her, would guide the hunters in their quest for the whale. But this only if there was one among them who could match the strength and endurance of the great female fish, and consummate this by entering her. This man would earn for his crew a talisman in the form of the fish flag. Those who flew it would be protected at sea and have bountiful luck in hunting the great sperm whale.

'Ah, Ikey, lovey! It were a feeble enough legend and a not very good song, both most contrived to begin with, but you know 'ow these things grow with a little bit added 'ere and a bit more there. The first season I were dead lucky, the ships o' Black Boss Cape Town and Tomahawk were the only two that 'ad earned a Blue Sally, though thank Gawd there were a great many others who tried and met with the greatest o' good luck. They took the biggest catches o' the season and not a jack tar among them were lost overboard or killed in a whale boat.'

Sperm Whale Sally laughed uproariously. 'That were all it took! When the
Sturmvogel
and the
Merryweather
come into port flyin' the Blue Sally, the legend were truly born. Suddenly I were the reincarnation o' the great fishy, the talisman, the good luck a whaleman takes to sea.' Sperm Whale Sally's great carcass wobbled again as she laughed. 'Blimey, it were on for one an' all!' She paused and wiped the sweat from her brow and sighed. 'Thank Gawd it ain't stopped since and I eats like a queen, and when the whalin' ships are in I earns sufficient to live well after they be gorn orf again to 'unt.'

The rules of the contest had formed over the years Sperm Whale Sally had been playing it, though, for all this, it remained much the same. The crew of a whaling ship would issue their challenge and nominate their man as challenger. They would pay their dues, half a crown per man on board the vessel, and the master would sign a statement that his crew, or the vessel itself, would meet the costs of the food and the drink consumed by Sperm Whale Sally and her challenger.

It was not unusual for a ship's master to be present at such a contest and it was often claimed that the Blue Sally meant so much to the crew of a whaling ship that some captains would advertise in their ports of origin for a crew member of sufficient size and drinking reputation to join, with an extra bonus promised if he should win a coveted Blue Sally for his vessel.

With the challenge formally made and payment guaranteed, the crew would choose pork or mutton, and the nature of the challenger's drink, this being a choice of rum, brandy, whisky or gin. Sperm Whale Sally's nomination was always ale. The rules required that her drink be matched with a strong spirit and that each contestant drink one kind of drink followed by the other. Thus a pint of ale, followed by a tot of rum, was matched by both contestants drink for drink.

In addition, a roasted sheep or pig was placed on the table together with a barrel of ale and one of the challenger's nominated spirit. The publican, or the ship's master if he'd agreed to be present, would act as the meat carver, drink dispenser and master of the ceremony. His task was to pour the drinks openly so all might see they were not spiked to the disadvantage of the challenger. He would also carve equal amounts from the carcass and add the same number of roasted potatoes from a dish of one hundred equally sized.

Precisely two hours was allowed for the contest and if, after this time, the challenger was not 'under the table', that is to say unconscious, then he was led by Sperm Whale Sally to the beach some fifty yards from the Whale Fishery. This final ceremony was known as 'the Beaching of the Whale' where the victor was invited to mount and consummate his 'taking of the flag'.

Only in this way could a Blue Sally be won for a whaling ship and when the fleet was in, no night passed without a challenger. But when the fleet put back to sea there were very few 'who newly flew the Sally Blue', and many who swore they would return to try again.

There were also a few greatly envied ships who flew a 'Two Sally Blue', a flag which sported upon it two sperm whales, indicating successful challenges on two separate occasions.

And then there were the two vessels, the
Sturmvogel
and the
Merryweather,
who flew the 'True Blue', a Blue Sally which carried stitched against its white background three great sperm whales. Each one had been won by the ship by the two giant men, the negro, Black Boss Cape Town, who claimed to come from a tribe deep in the African wilderness somewhere north of the Cape of Good Hope, and Tomahawk, the Red Indian, a Cheyenne from the American wilderness. Both men stood six feet and seven inches tall and could not walk frontways through the door of the Whale Fishery without touching the posts on either side.

In the manner of sailors there were some men, big men too, who when drunk enough would challenge the 'nigger' or the 'injun savage', but none were known who had remained on their feet beyond a blow delivered from the giant fist of either man. As winners of the True Blue they were occasioned the favours of Sperm Whale Sally without payment whenever they were in port. Although this had never occurred simultaneously, there was much speculation among whalemen as to what would be the consequence if this should happen, as everyone agreed, sooner or later, the two men must meet in combat.