CHAPTER 1 Loomings Call
me 1
Ishmael 1
.
Some years ago -- never mind how long precisely -- having little or no money in
my 1
purse , and nothing particular to interest
me 1
on
shore 2
,
I 1
thought
I 1
would sail about a little and see
the watery part of
the world 4
3 .
It is a way
I 1
have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation .
Whenever
I 1
find
myself 1
growing grim about the mouth ; whenever it is a damp , drizzly November in
; whenever
I 1
find
myself 1
involuntarily pausing before
coffin warehouses 5
, and bringing up
the rear of every funeral
I 1
meet
6 ; and especially whenever
my 1
hypos get such an upper hand of
me 1
, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent
me 1
from deliberately stepping into
the street 7
, and methodically knocking
people 8
's hats off -- then ,
I 1
account it high time to get to
sea 9
as soon as
I 1
can .
This is
my 1
substitute for pistol and ball .
With a philosophical flourish
Cato 10
throws
himself 10
upon
his 10
sword ;
I 1
quietly take to
the ship 11
.
There is nothing surprising in this .
If
they 12
but knew it ,
almost all men in
their 12
degree
12 , some time or other , cherish very nearly the same feelings towards
the ocean 13
with
me 1
.
There now is
your 14
insular city of
the Manhattoes 15
24 , belted round by
wharves 16
as
Indian isles 17
by coral reefs -- commerce surrounds
it 24
with her surf .
Right and left ,
the streets 18
take
you 19
waterward .
Its 24
extreme downtown
20 is
the battery 172
, where
that noble mole 21
is washed by waves , and cooled by breezes , which a few hours previous were out of sight of
land 22
.
Look at
the crowds of water-gazers 23
there 20
.
Circumambulate
the city of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon 24
.
Go from
Corlears Hook 25
to
Coenties Slip 26
, and from thence , by
Whitehall 27
, northward .
What do
you 28
see ?
-- Posted like
silent sentinels 29
all around
the town 30
, stand
thousands upon thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean reveries 31
.
Some 168
leaning against the spiles ;
some 169
seated upon the pier-heads ;
some 170
looking over the bulwarks glasses !
of
;
some 171
high aloft in the rigging , as if striving to get a still better seaward peep .
But these are all
landsmen 31
; of week days pent up in lath and plaster -- tied to counters , nailed to benches , clinched to desks .
How then is this ?
Are
the green fields 33
gone ?
What do
they 31
here ?
But look !
here come
more crowds , pacing straight for the water , and seemingly bound for a dive 34
.
Strange !
Nothing will content
them 34
but
the extremest limit of the land 35
; loitering under
the shady lee of yonder warehouses 36
will not suffice .
No .
They 34
must get just as nigh
the water 37
as
they 34
possibly can without falling in .
And there
they 34
stand --
-- leagues .
Inlanders all 173
,
they 34
come from
lanes 38
and
alleys 39
,
streets 40
and
avenues 41
, -- north , east , south , and west .
Yet here
they 34
all unite .
Tell
me 1
, does the magnetic virtue of the needles of the compasses of all
those ships 42
attract
them 34
thither ?
Once more .
Say
you 43
are in
the country 44
; in
some high land of lakes 45
.
Take
almost any path
you 0
please
46 , and ten to one
it 46
carries
you 47
down in
a dale 48
, and leaves
you 49
there 50
by
a pool in the stream 51
.
There is magic in it .
Let
the most absent-minded of men 52
be plunged in
his 52
deepest reveries -- stand
that man 52
on
his 52
legs , set
his 52
feet a-going , and
he 52
will infallibly lead
you 53
to
water 54
, if
water 55
there be in all
that region 56
.
Should
you 57
ever be athirst in
the great American desert 58
, try this experiment , if
happen to be supplied with
a metaphysical professor 61
.
Yes , as
every one 62
knows , meditation and water are wedded for ever .
But here is
an artist 63
.
He 63
desires to paint
you 64
the dreamiest , shadiest , quietest , most enchanting bit of romantic landscape in all the valley of the Saco 65
.
What is the chief element
he 63
employs ?
There stand
his 63
trees , each with a hollow trunk , as if
a hermit 66
and a crucifix were within ; and
here 67
sleeps
, and there sleep
his 63
cattle ; and up from
yonder cottage 69
goes a sleepy smoke .
Deep into distant woodlands 70
winds a mazy way , reaching to
overlapping spurs of mountains bathed in their hill-side blue 71
.
But though the picture lies thus tranced , and though this pine-tree shakes down its sighs like leaves upon
this shepherd 72
's head , yet all were vain , unless
the shepherd 72
's eye were fixed upon
the magic stream before
him 72
73 .
Go visit
the Prairies 74
in June , when for scores on scores of miles
you 75
wade knee-deep among Tiger-lilies -- what is the one charm wanting ?
-- Water there is not a drop of water there !
Were
Niagara 76
but a cataract of sand , would
you 77
travel
your 78
thousand miles to see
it 76
?
Why did
the poor poet of
Tennessee 80
79 , upon suddenly receiving two handfuls of silver , deliberate whether to buy
him 79
a coat , which
he 79
sadly needed , or invest
his 79
money in a pedestrian trip to
Rockaway Beach 81
?
Why is
almost every robust healthy boy with a robust healthy soul in
him 82
82 , at some time or other crazy to go
to sea 83
?
Why upon
your 84
first voyage as
a passenger 85
, did
you 86
yourself 87
feel such a mystical vibration , when first told that
you 88
and
were now out of sight of
land 22
?
Why did
the old Persians 91
hold
the sea 92
holy ?
Why did
the Greeks 93
give
it 92
a separate deity 94
, and
own brother of
Jove 95
94 ?
Surely all this is not without meaning .
And still deeper the meaning of that story of
Narcissus 96
, who because
he 96
could not grasp the tormenting , mild image
he 96
saw in the fountain , plunged into it and was drowned .
But that same image ,
we 97
ourselves 97
see in
all rivers 98
and
oceans 99
.
It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life ; and this is the key to it all .
Now , when
I 1
say that
I 1
am in the habit of going to
sea 100
whenever
I 1
begin to grow hazy about the eyes , and begin to be over conscious of
my 1
lungs ,
I 1
do not mean to have it inferred that
I 1
ever go to
sea 101
as
a passenger 102
.
For to go as
a passenger 103
you 104
must needs have a purse , and a purse is but a rag unless
you 105
have something in it .
Besides ,
passengers 106
get sea-sick -- grow quarrelsome -- do n't sleep of nights -- do not enjoy
themselves 106
much , as a general thing ; -- no ,
I 1
never go as
a passenger 107
; nor , though
I 1
am something of a salt , do
I 1
ever go to sea as
a Commodore 108
, or
a Captain 109
, or
a Cook 110
.
I 1
abandon the glory and distinction of such offices to
those who like them 111
.
For
my 1
part ,
I 1
abominate all honorable respectable toils , trials , and tribulations of every kind whatsoever .
It is quite as much as
I 1
can do to take care of
myself 1
, without taking care of
ships 112
,
barques 113
,
brigs 114
,
schooners 115
, and what not .
And as for going as
cook 116
, -- though
I 1
confess there is considerable glory in that ,
a cook 117
being
a sort of officer on ship-board 174
-- yet , somehow ,
I 1
never fancied broiling fowls ; -- though once broiled , judiciously buttered , and judgmatically salted and peppered , there is
no one 118
who will speak more respectfully , not to say reverentially , of a broiled fowl than
I 1
will .
It is out of the idolatrous dotings of
the old Egyptians 119
upon broiled ibis and roasted river horse , that
you 120
see the mummies of those creatures in
their 119
huge bakehouses the pyramids
121 .
No , when
I 1
go to
sea 122
,
I 1
go as
a simple sailor 123
, right before the mast , plumb down into the fore-castle , aloft there to the royal mast-head .
True ,
they 124
rather order
me 1
about some , and make
me 1
jump from spar to spar , like a grasshopper in
a May meadow 125
.
And at first , this sort of thing is unpleasant enough .
It touches one 's sense of honor , particularly if
you 126
come of
an old established family in the land 127
,
the Van Rensselaers 128
, or
Randolphs 129
, or
Hardicanutes 130
.
And more than all , if just previous to putting
your 131
hand into the tar-pot ,
you 132
have been lording it as
a country schoolmaster 133
, making
the tallest boys 134
stand in awe of
you 135
.
The transition is a keen one ,
I 1
assure
you 136
, from
a schoolmaster 138
to
a sailor 137
, and requires a strong decoction of
Seneca 139
and
the Stoics 140
to enable
you 141
to grin and bear it .
But even this wears off in time .
What of it , if
some old hunks of a sea-captain 142
orders
me 1
to get a broom and sweep down the decks ?
What does that indignity amount to , weighed ,
I 1
mean , in the scales of the New Testament ?
Do
you 143
think
the archangel 144
Gabriel 144
thinks anything the less of
me 1
, because
I 1
promptly and respectfully obey
that old hunks 142
in that particular instance ?
Who ai n't
a slave 145
?
Tell
me 1
that .
Well , then , however
the old sea-captains 142
may order
me 1
about -- however
they 142
may thump and punch
me 1
about ,
I 1
have the satisfaction of knowing that it is all right ; that
everybody else 146
is one way or other served in much the same way -- either in a physical or metaphysical point of view , that is ; and so the universal thump is passed round , and all hands should rub each other 's shoulder-blades , and be content .
Again ,
I 1
always go to
sea 147
as
a sailor 148
, because
they 142
make a point of paying
me 1
for
my 1
trouble , whereas
they 142
never pay
passengers 149
a single penny that
I 1
ever heard of .
On the contrary ,
passengers
themselves 150
150 must pay .
And there is all the difference in
the world 4
between paying and being paid .
The act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable infliction that
the two orchard thieves entailed upon
us 152
151 .
But being paid , -- what will compare with it ?
The urbane activity with which
a man 153
receives money is really marvellous , considering that
we 154
so earnestly believe money to be the root of all earthly ills , and that on no account can
a monied man 155
enter
heaven 156
.
Ah !
how cheerfully
we 157
consign
ourselves 157
to perdition !
Finally ,
I 1
always go to
sea 158
as
a sailor 159
, because of the wholesome exercise and pure air of the fore-castle deck .
For as in
this world 4
, head winds are far more prevalent than winds from astern ( that is , if
you 160
never violate the Pythagorean maxim ) , so for the most part
the Commodore on the quarter-deck 161
gets
his 161
atmosphere at second hand from
the sailors on the forecastle 162
.
He 161
thinks
he 161
breathes it first ; but not so .
In much the same way do the commonalty lead
in many other things , at the same time that the leaders little suspect it .
But wherefore it was that after having repeatedly smelt
the sea 163
as
a merchant sailor 164
,
I 1
should now take it into
my 1
head to go on a whaling voyage ; this
the invisible police officer of the Fates 165
, who has the constant surveillance of
me 1
, and secretly dogs
me 1
, and influences
me 1
in some unaccountable way --
he 165
can better answer than
any one else 166
.
And , doubtless ,
my 1
going on this whaling voyage , formed part of the grand programme of Providence that was drawn up a long time ago .
It came in as a sort of brief interlude and solo between more extensive performances .
I 1
take it that this part of the bill must have run something like this :