sportsmen of ample means and unlimited leisure often deplore the shrinkage which goes on at an ever-accelerating rate of such free hunting-grounds as still remain. owing to the wonderful facilities for travel allied to increased wealth, they foresee, not, perhaps, the extinction of the great wild animals which alone they consider worthy of their high prowess, but such close preservation of them in the near future that the free delight of the hunter will surely disappear. therefore it may be considered opportune to point out from the vantage ground of personal experience some aspects of sport at sea which will certainly not suffer by comparison with any hunting on land, no matter from what point we regard it. it will readily be conceded that one of the chief drawbacks to the full enjoyment of sport in wild lands is the large amount of personal suffering entailed upon the hunters by evil climates and transport difficulties. it is all very well to say that these things are part of the programme, and that taking the rough with the smooth is of the very essence of true sportsmanship. that need not be disputed while denying that there is anything attractive in the idea of becoming a permanent invalid from malaria or being harassed to the verge of madness by the unceasing[219] oversight of a gang of wily children of nature saturated with the idea that the white maniac is delivered over to them as a prey by “the gods of things as they are.” the fascination of sport consists in the dangers of the chase, the successful use of “shikar,” the elation of conscious superiority over the lords of the brute creation, and not, as some dull souls would assert, in the gratification of primitive instincts of blood-lust, or the exercise of cruelty to animals for its own sake. neither does it consist in wading across fetid swamps, groping through steaming forests, or toiling with leathern tongue and aching bones over glowing sands, a prey to all the plagues of egypt augmented by nearly every other ill that flesh is heir to. no; few of us need persuading that any of these horrors are the unavoidable necessary concomitants of sport, they are endured because to all appearance any hunting worthy the name is not to be obtained apart from them.

from all such miseries sport at sea is free. a well-appointed yacht, built not for speed but for comfort, need not be luxurious to afford as satisfactory a “hunting-box” as any sportsman could reasonably desire. and for the question of cost—it may be high enough to satisfy the craving for squandering felt by the most wealthy spendthrift, or so low as to become far cheaper than a hunting expedition to africa or the rockies. for a successful sporting voyage a sailing vessel, or at most an auxiliary screw-steamer of low power, is best, for the great game of the ocean is full of alarms, and[220] must needs be approached with the utmost silence and circumspection. as for the question of equipment, it seems hardly necessary to say that everything should be of the very best, but not by any means of the most expensive quality procurable. all such abominations as harpoon-guns, bombs, &c., should be strictly barred, the object being sport, not slaughter. given sufficient outlay, with the resources of science now at the purchaser’s disposal, it is quite possible to reduce whaling, for instance, to as tame an affair as a hand-fed pheasant battue or tame-rabbit coursing, neither of which can surely by any stretch of courtesy be called sport. the old-fashioned hand harpoons, the long, slender lances that, except for excellence of workmanship and material, are essentially the same as used by the first followers of the vast sea-mammals, these should be the sportsman’s weapons still if he would taste in its integrity the primitive delight of the noblest of created beings in the assertion of his birthright, “dominion over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth.”

the best type of vessel for a sporting cruise at sea is what is known to seamen as a “barquentine,” a vessel, that is to say, of some 250 tons register, with three masts, square-rigged at the fore—after the style of the well-known sunbeam. in her davits she should carry three whaleboats, such as the americans of new bedford or rhode island know so well how to build, the handsomest and most sea-worthy of all boats ever built. the whaleboats built[221] in scotland, though strong and serviceable, are less elegant and handy, being more fitted for rough handling among ice-floes, into which rough neighbourhoods the sea-sportsman need never go—should not go, in fact, for the best display of his powers. the whale-line, made in the old whaling ports of new england—tow-line as it is locally termed—cannot be beaten. it possesses all the virtues. light, silky, and of amazing strength, it is a perfect example of what rope should be, and is as much superior to the unkind, harsh hemp-line of our own islands as could well be imagined. from the same place should be obtained the services of a few whaling experts, accustomed, as no other seafarers are, to the chase of the sperm-whale, the noblest of all sea-monsters. advice as to fishing-tackle would be out of place, except the general remark that, as in the deep seas the angler will meet with the doughtiest opponent of his skill the ocean contains, he must needs lay in a stock of tackle of the very strongest and best. tarpon fishing is a fairly good test of the trustworthiness of gear, but whoso meets the giant albacore in mid-ocean, and overcomes him, will have vanquished a fish to which the tarpon is but as a seven-pound trout to a lordly salmon. all the appliances known to naturalists for the capture and preservation of the smaller habitants of the deep sea ought to be carried, for, although not strictly sport, this work is deeply interesting and useful, besides affording a pleasant variety of occupation.

but, passing on to the actual conditions of conflict,[222] let us suppose the sportsman cruising in the north atlantic between the cape verde islands and the west indies—a wide range, truly, but no part of it barren of the highest possibilities for pleasure. a school of sperm whales is sighted, the vessel is carefully manœuvred for the weather-gage of them, and this being obtained, the boats are softly lowered, sail is set, and, with the fresh trade-wind, away they go leaping to leeward. the utmost precaution against noise must be taken, because the natural susceptibility of the whale to sound is as delicate as the receiver of a telephone. no amount of oral instruction would here be of any avail without long experience, which, since it can be hired, there is no need to waste time and patience in acquiring. assuming, therefore, that the preliminary difficulty of approach to the sensitive monsters has been overcome, and there remains but a few fathoms of rapidly lessening distance between the boat and the unconscious whale, who could satisfactorily describe the sensations crowded into those few remaining moments of absolute quiet, the tension of expectation, the uncertainty of the result of the approaching conflict? the object of attack is the mightiest of living animals, he is in his own element, to which the assailant is but a visitor on sufferance, and he may retaliate in so fierce and tremendous a fashion that no amount of skill, courage, or energy shall suffice to protect the aggressor from his fury. but there is no thought of drawing back, the swift-gliding boat rushes high up on to the broad bank of flesh, and with a long-pent-up yell the harpoon is hurled. it enters the[223] black mass noiselessly, the weight of its pole bends the soft iron shaft over as the attached line stretches out, and as the boat slowly, so slowly, backs away, the leviathan, amazed and infuriated, thrashes the quiet sea into masses of hissing foam, while the thunder of his blows resounds like the uproar of a distant cannonade. at this time certain necessary rearrangements, such as furling and stowing sail, make it impossible, even if it were wise, to approach the indignant whale, and as a general thing by the time these preparations are complete he has sought the shelter of the depths beneath, taking out flake after flake of the neatly coiled line. with ordinary care, especially where only one boat is engaged, it would seldom happen that all the line would run out, and the game be lost. usually, after an interval of about twenty minutes, during which the line is slacked away as slowly and grudgingly as possible, it is felt to give, and the slack must be hauled in with the utmost smartness, a sharp look-out being kept meanwhile upon the surrounding surface for a sudden white glare beneath—the cavity of the whale’s throat, as he comes bounding to the surface with his vast jaws gaping wider than a barn-door. it is at this time that the true excitement, the joy of battle, begins. for in most cases the huge animal has come to fight, and being in his turn the aggressor, his enemies must exert all their skill in boatsmanship, preserve all their coolness and watchfulness, since a mistake in tactics or loss of presence of mind may mean the instant destruction of the boat, if not the sudden and violent death of some of her crew.[224] as a general rule, however, after a few savage rushes avoided by wary manœuvring on the part of the hunters, the whale starts off to windward at his best speed (from twelve to fourteen knots an hour), towing the boat or boats after him with the greatest ease. this is a most exhilarating experience. for the mighty steed, ploughing his strenuous way through the waves, seems the living embodiment of force, and yet he is, as it were, harnessed to his exulting foes, compelled to take them with him in spite of his evident desire to shake himself free. while he goes at his best speed a near approach to him is manifestly impossible; but, vast as his energies are, the enormous mass of his own body carried along so rapidly soon tires him, and he slows down to five or six knots. then all hands, except the one in charge and the helmsman, “tail on” to the line, and do their best to haul up alongside the whale. the steersman sheers the boat clear of his labouring flukes as she comes close to him, and then allows her to point inward towards his broad flank, while the lance-wielder seeks a vulnerable spot wherein to plunge his long, slender weapon. it is of little use to dart the lance as the harpoon is flung; such an action is far more likely to goad the whale into a new exhibition of energy than to do him any disabling injury. being at such close quarters, it is far more sportsmanlike, as well as effectual, to thrust the lance calmly and steadily into the huge mass of flesh so near at hand. if the aim has been well taken—say, just abaft and below the pectoral fin—more than one home-thrust will[225] hardly be needed, even in a whale of the largest size, and a careful watch must be kept upon the spout-hole for the first sign of blood discolouring the monster’s breath. for that is evidence unmistakable of the beginning of the end. it shows that some vital part has been pierced, and although the whale-fishers always continue their “pumping” with the lance up to the very verge of disaster, once the whale has begun to spout blood it is quite unnecessary to continue the assault. still, at this stage of the proceedings the primitive instincts are usually fully aroused, and nothing seems to satisfy them but persistent fury of attack, until the actual commencement of the tremendous death-agony or “flurry” of the noble beast gives even the most excited hunter warning that it is time to draw off and endeavour to keep clear of the last titanic convulsions of the expiring monster. no other created being ever furnishes such a display of energy. involuntarily one compares it with the awful manifestations of the earthquake, the volcano, or the cyclone. and when at last the great creature yields up the dregs of his once amazing vitality, no one possessing a spark of imagination can fail to be conscious of an under-current of compunction mingling with the swelling triumph of such a victory.

but the seeker after big sea-game should attack the rorqual if he would see sport indeed. for this agile monster has such a reputation for almost supernatural cunning that even if he were as valuable as he really is valueless commercially, it is highly doubtful[226] if he would ever be molested. as it is, all the tribe are chartered libertines, since no whaleman is likely to risk the loss of a boat’s gear for the barren honour of conquest. and not only so, but the rorquals, whether “fin-back,” “sulphur-bottom,” or “blue-back,” as well as the “hump-back” and grampus, make it a point of honour to sink when dead, unlike the “cachalot” or “bowhead,” who float awash at first, but ever more buoyantly as the progress of decay within the immense abdominal cavity generates an accumulating volume of gas. any old whaleman would evolve in the interests of sport no end of dodges for dealing with the wily rorqual, such as a collection of strongly attached bladders affixed to the line to stay his downward rush, short but broad-barbed harpoons, to get a better hold upon the thin coating of blubber, &c. in this kind of whaling there is quite sufficient danger to make the sport exciting in the highest degree. not, however, from the attack of the animal hunted, but because his evolutions in the effort to escape are so marvellously vivacious that only the most expert and cool-headed boatsmanship can prevent a sudden severance of the nexus between boat and crew. a splendid day’s sport can be obtained with a school of blackfish. although seldom exceeding a ton and a half in weight, these small whales are quite vigorous enough to make the chase of them as lively an episode as the most enthusiastic hunter could wish, especially if two or even three are harpooned one after the other on a single line, as the whalers’ custom is. the sensation of being harnessed as it[227] were to a trio of monsters, each about 25 feet long, and 8 feet in girth, every one anxious to flee in a different direction at the highest speed he can muster, and in their united gambols making the sea boil like a pot, is one that, once experienced, is never likely to be forgotten. the mere memory of that mad frolic over the heaving bosom of the bright sea makes the blood leap to the face, makes the nerves twitch, and the heart long to be away from the placid round of everyday life upon the bright free wave again. even a school of porpoises, in default of nobler game, can furnish a lively hour or two, especially if they be of a fair size, say up to three or four hundredweight each. but of a truth there need be no fear of a lack of game. the swift passage from port to port made by passenger vessels is apt to leave the voyager with the impression that the sea is a barren waste, but such an idea is wholly false. even the sailing-ships, bound though they may be to make the shortest possible time between ports, are compelled by failure of wind to see enough of the everyday life of the sea-population to know better than that, and whoso gives himself up to the glamour of sea-study, making no haste to rush from place to place, but leisurely loitering along the wide plains of ocean, shall find each day a new world unfolding itself before his astonished eyes, a world of marvels, infinitely small, as well as wondrous great—from the thousand and one miracles that go to make up the “plankton” to the antediluvian whale.

fishing in its more heroic phases is obtainable[228] in deep-sea cruising as nowhere else. the hungry sailor, perched upon the flying jib-boom end, drops his line, baited with a fluttering fragment of white rag, and watches it with eager eyes as it skips from crest to crest of the foam-tipped wavelets, brushed aside by the advancing hull of his ship. and although his ideas are wholly centred upon dinner—something savoury, to replace the incessant round of salt beef and rancid pork—he cannot help but feel the zest of sport when upward to his clumsy lure come rushing eagerly dolphin, bonito, or skipjack. but if—putting all lesser fish to flight—the mighty albacore leaps majestically at his bait, prudence compels him to withdraw from the unequal contest; he knows that he stands not the remotest chance of hauling such a huge trophy up to his lofty perch, or of holding him there, should he be able to get a grip of him. to the scientific angler, however, equipped with the latest resources of fishing-tackle experts, and able to devote all the manipulation of his vessel to the capture of such a trophy, the fishing of the albacore would be the acme of all angling experiences. good sport can be got out of a school of large dolphin or bonito, their vigorous full-blooded strife being a revelation to those who only know the lordly salmon or skittish trout, but the albacore is the supreme test of the angler’s ability. shark-fishing is very tame after it. for the shark, though powerful, has none of the dash and energy which characterise the albacore, and would soon be an object of scorn to a fisherman who had succeeded in catching the monarch[229] of the mackerel tribe. but if the fisherman, cruising near the confines of the caribbean sea, should come across one of those nightmares known as alligator-guards or devil-fish, a species of ray often one hundred and twenty feet in area, he would find a new sensation in its chase and capture, besides being the possessor of such a marine specimen as is at present lacking to any museum in the world.

and this brings the reflection, which may fittingly draw this article to a close, that not the least of the delights which such a cruise must bring to one fortunate enough to enjoy it would be the incalculable service rendered to marine natural history. this branch of science offers an almost illimitable field to the student. it is nearly a new world awaiting its columbus, and it is not difficult to foresee that before very long it will have found its votaries among men of wealth, leisure, and energy, delighted to enter into the joy of a happy hunting-ground of boundless extent and inexhaustible fecundity.