Moby Dick

At noon on Christmas Day, Peleg and Bildad confer with Starbuck and Stubb, the ship’s second mate, on final preparations. Ahab stays below decks, unseen. The captain’s lack of visibility before setting sail is not entirely unheard of, and besides, says Ishmael, preparations for sail keep all hands too busy to notice. The deck tent is struck, and the anchor raised. Bildad and Peleg see to the off-deck piloting, spurring the men to lower sails and sing songs. Soon, however, the two owners are no longer needed, and prepare to exit the ship by way of a small sailboat. They leave the ship reluctantly and are visibly emotional, blessing each man on their way off the ship. With a cheer, the crew and ship “blindly plunged like fate into the lone Atlantic” (115).

To his surprise, Ishmael spies Bulkington, the tall, rough-looking man from the Spouter Inn, on the Pequod. He is amazed at the man’s eagerness to set sail again so soon after leaving a four-year’s journey on the Grampus.

In Bulkington, Ishmael recognizes a truth: that the safety of shore is stifling and that the “open independence” of the sea, though treacherous and always pushing humankind back to the safety of shore, represents the bravery and seeking nature of the human soul. He dedicates Chapter 23 as an epitaph to Bulkington, hinting at Bulkington’s death, and of worse disasters to come.

Ishmael intends to act as an advocate for the whaling profession, especially in as much it is frowned upon by other professions as a “butchering sort of business” (118). To this, Ishmael points out that many soldiers and generals are butchers of men and are awarded medals. As an additional practical matter, Ishmael says, the whaler provides light and heat to people across the globe, while fueling a sizable and rewarding industry.

Additionally. Ishmael says, whaling has contributed considerable knowledge about the oceans and seas by exploring them for commercial gain. Whalers open up diplomatic lines through trade negotiation, for example by opening channels between the Spanish and English crowns. Alternately, whaling provided economic liberation from the Spanish crown for her American colonies. Ishmael claims that whalers discovered Australia and opened the ports of Japan.

He lists great writers and noble peers connected to the business of whaling. He becomes enraged at the hypothetical devil’s advocate who would impugn the dignity and grandiosity of whaling, noting the constellation of Cetus (a constellation in the shape of a whale that also signifies the sea monster that menaced Andromeda). He disavows the supposed greatness of kings and generals. Ishmael says that whaling is the greatest thing he has ever done, and that “a whale ship was my Yale College and my Harvard” (122).

Should anyone doubt the dignity of whaling or fail to forgive Ishmael for combining facts about his chosen profession with a few speculations, Ishmael counters by describing the practice of using whale oil to anoint the heads of kings at their coronations. “Think of that, ye loyal Britons! we whalemen supply your kings and queens with coronation stuff!” (123).

Starbuck is the chief mate of the Pequod; like the owners of the ship, he is also a Quaker. He is tall, thin, and tough like “a revivified Egyptian [...] prepared to endure for long ages to come” (124).

Starbuck’s chief characteristics, Ishmael says, are his trustworthiness and a hard-won instinct that in less experienced sailors would be called superstition. Knowing how many men have died in pursuit of whaling, and wanting only to earn a living, Starbuck turns away from obvious danger and unwinnable causes; he is thus known to his crew as a careful man. Starbuck says, “I will have no man in my boat [...] who is not afraid of a whale” (125). His own father was killed by whaling.

Ishmael speculates that, though Starbuck was a brave sailor, he, like many worthy and pragmatic men, will not prove brave in the difficult tests of the spirit he will face later in the novel. Ishmael mourns him and concludes by celebrating the dignity of ordinary people, whom he compares favorably to kings and historical heroes.

By contrast to Starbuck, Stubb, the Pequod’s second mate, is a person of good cheer. He’s not an exceptional whaler, but he’s competent and light-hearted. He never takes his pipe out of his mouth, Ishmael claims. Flask, the third mate, has a resentment against whales that makes him belligerent in his duties. He is short and stout and is often called the “King-Post” for his stubbornness. It is the duty of Starbuck, Stubb and Flask to lead the smaller boats in pursuit of sighted whales. They are accompanied by rowers and, most importantly, by harpooneers.

Among these are Queequeg, whose talents assist Starbuck. Tashtego is a Native American from the New England region of Gay Head, a place well known for producing excellent harpooneers. He is Stubb’s “squire,” as Ishmael puts it (131). Finally, Ahasuerus Dagoo, an African-born harpooner, acts as Flask’s second hand. Ishmael points out that Dagoo appears very large standing next to the diminutive Flask.

Ishmael observes that “at the present day, not one in two of the many thousand men before the mast employed in the American whale fishery, are American born, though pretty nearly all the officers are” (131). He notes that many of the best whalemen come from island nations of every hemisphere of the globe. He also notes Pip, a young Black boy from Alabama who plays tambourine. He is doomed like the rest of the crew, Ishmael says.

For several days, Ahab does not show himself. Ishmael gets nervous, peering around for signs of the captain. Nevertheless, he is confident in the three chief officers and in the crew.

Then, while Ishmael is on watch, he sees the unusual figure of Ahab on the quarter-deck. The captain is very lean and hard looking. He has grey hair and a scar running down his face. Most notably, he has an ivory peg-leg carved, according to rumor, from the jawbone of a whale. Throughout the ship, there are bore-holes in which Ahab can steady his improvised leg.

As the Ship travels east towards lucrative waters, the weather becomes warmer. Ahab becomes a common sight on deck, though he says very little.

As the weather warms, Ahab begins to walk the decks at night, his peg leg loud above the heads of his sleeping mates. Stubb confronts Ahab directly about the racket he makes when he paces the deck. Ahab reacts with fury and derision, calling Stubb “ten times a donkey” (138). Stubb mutters to himself that he’s never been so rudely treated by a captain, but that something in Ahab’s demeanor frightens and perplexes him. He retreats back to his bunk.

As Stubb leaves, Ahab puffs on his pipe. Realizing that it no longer soothes him, he throws it into the sea. “What business have I with this pipe?” says Ahab. “This thing that is meant for sereneness, to send up mild white vapors among mild white hairs, not among torn iron-grey locks like mine” (141). The troubled captain continues to pace the deck.

The next morning, Stubb meets Flask and recounts his run-in with Ahab. He then describes a subsequent dream (as in a visitation from “Queen Mab,” a fairy who implants dreams) in which Ahab kicks him with his peg-leg. Then, in the dream, a merman visits him. After a show of power, the merman tells Stubb no longer to dwell on Ahab’s insult, but to “account his kicks honors” (143). Though Flask thinks the dream is foolish, Stubb declares that it’s best to leave Ahab alone. Both think it’s strange that Ahab should be so focused upon a white whale, to which both men hear the captain refer.

Ishmael interrupts the narrative to instruct his readers about cetology—that is, the study of whales. To begin, he notes that cetology is a difficult field, as whales are so infrequently sighted except by those who hunt them. Many experts study whales that have washed up on shore, but few have studied living specimens. The whale’s “is an unwritten life,” says Ishmael (147).

As to the first point, Ishmael declares the whale to be a fish, despite its many mammalian characteristics, such as lungs, live birth, and warm blood. To this, he cites the expertise of an old bunkmate, and of the biblical tale of Jonah, both of which refer to the whale as a fish. Next, he differentiates whales into three “books,” or cetacean families, he names (using bookbinding terminology) them the Folio, the Octavo, and the Decimo.

Of the “Folio” whales he includes the largest examples, such as the sperm, right, hump-back, fin-back, and other large whales. Of these, the sperm whale is particularly valuable to whalers, whereas the right and humpback whales are less so.

Of the “Octavo” whales he lists smaller and more unusual examples, such as narwhals and killer whales. While not generally of interest to whalers, they feature as a part of the fabric of whaler’s stories, such as the supposed medicinal qualities of the narwhal’s horn. Of the “Decimo” whales he includes different species of porpoise, which are distinguished mainly by their relatively small size. Of these, he says that the bottlenose dolphin (or the “Huzza Porpoise”) has bones valuable among jewelers and watchmakers, and that its meat “is good eating” (156).

Ishmael says that he leaves his imperfect draft of whale science for future generations to perfect and complete.

Ishmael describes the role of the harpooner on a whaleship. In earlier days, authority was split between a whaleship’s captain and her specksnyder (a word meaning “Fat-Cutter”, or “Chief Harpooner”). Though the title of chief harpooner has diminished in rank over time, nevertheless it is among the most important jobs on the ship.

This example of reduced rank serves to illustrate the ways in which, on the close quarters of a whaleship, rank, duty, and privilege shift between informal hierarchy to existential necessity, depending on the circumstance. In spite of this looseness, however, it is the custom that the captain of a whaleship sleeps in the aft quarters near the mates and harpooneers, while the rest of the men sleep forward.

In this context, it is unusual that Ahab stays so often hidden in his quarters. This, says Ishmael, neither increases nor decreases Ahab’s unusual source of authority, which seems touched by divine power, as it does with many of the greatest leaders.

As per custom, the ship’s steward, Dough-Boy, announces dinner to Ahab, who then announces it to Starbuck, and Starbuck to Stubb, on down to Flask, who, in spite of all previous insults, joins the other mates at the captain’s table with humble self-deprecation toward the ship’s highest authority. Ahab serves each plate solemnly and eats in silence. Though his mates are not restricted to silence, they are silent, too. By this same informal custom, Flask must always leave the table first, followed by each mate in ascending rank; in this way, Flask often eats less than he’d like. It is a scene of “hardly tolerable restraint” (164).

By contrast, the harpooneer’s table is enthusiastic. They eat with great appetites and loud smacking, often threatening Dough-Boy if they are not fed enough. Between Ahab’s moodiness and the harpooneer’s rowdiness, Dough-Boy is constantly nervous.

The only time the mates and harpooneers spend time near their cabin is during mealtime. The rest of the time they can be seen above-deck doing work or just living out of doors. This, again, is in contrast to Ahab, who mostly stays cooped up in his quarters. Ishmael says that “socially, Ahab was inaccessible” lost in an impenetrable gloominess (166).

From the moment a whaleship leaves port until its hold is full, her masthead is manned by someone who looks out for whales. This is a position that is rotated among the whole crew. Toward spring, it becomes Ishmael’s turn to man the masthead.

Ishmael assumes that the very first people to stand mast were the ancient Egyptians, especially as Ishmael defines anyone who stands at any height to get a better look at something as someone standing on a masthead. By this reasoning, the Pyramids of Giza are masts built to get a better look at the stars. He goes on to recount the stories of Simon Stylites (the early Christian monk who lived much of his life on a pillar), Napoleon Bonaparte, and George Washington.

The first whaling mastheads were towers built on land in Nantucket and New Zealand, Ishmael claims. In the modern day, three mastheads are maintained on ship, each about one hundred feet above the deck, with regular watches circulating every two hours. It is a uniquely romantic job, at once relaxing and a great spur to the imagination. “To a dreamy meditative man it is delightful,” Ishmael says (169). By distinction, a ship’s “crow’s nest” is a luxury, being tented and protected from weather. One such crow’s nest, outfitted for a trip to Greenland, was rumored to be furnished like a house, with a sliding window, a seat, and a small locker.

Ishmael admits that he was poor at the job of standing masthead, as he often daydreamed or fell asleep on the job. He warns all sea-captains against hiring people like Ishmael himself, who harbors literary or poetic dreams at the expense of diligence.

Ahab, on his normal rounds, seems agitated. Soon, he calls everyone to the back of the ship, and demands that they repeat their masthead duties in spotting whales at sea, to which the men enthusiastically respond. Ahab then stokes their enthusiasm for searching for a particular white whale named Moby Dick. As incentive, he nails a 16-dollar Spanish doubloon to the main mast, promising it to the first mast header who spots him.

Only the most experienced men have heard of Moby Dick, including Starbuck and the three harpooners, Queequeg, Tashtego, and Dagoo. Moby Dick is a particularly large whale, with a great spot and several harpoons twisted half-within his body. Ahab acknowledges that it was Moby Dick who took his leg. Building up a head of steam, Ahab yells that he will chase Moby Dick “round perdition’s flames before I give him up” and inform the men that it is now their central duty to find that particular whale (177).

Starbuck reminds Ahab that, after all, Moby Dick is only one whale among many, and that his oil fetches just as much at market as any other’s. Ahab responds by clutching his chest and declaring “that my vengeance will fetch a great premium here” (178). When Starbuck points out that Moby Dick is a senseless animal, Ahab describes a cosmology in which the world of the senses is in fact false and that the purpose of life is to reach beyond the sensible world to wreak revenge for seemingly random afflictions. “I’d strike the sun if it afflicted me,” says Ahab to a horrified Starbuck (178).

Passing around a full measure of grog to all the men of the ship and demanding that the harpooneers all cross their weapons in a ritual ceremony, Ahab demands that the Pequod drink to the capture of Moby Dick, binding themselves in a declared oath to the purpose. All but Starbuck seem hypnotized by Ahab’s magnetic passion.

Ahab observes the waters at sunset, but, despite his nearly hallucinogenic sharpness of perception, he finds he cannot enjoy the play of light on the waves. Instead, he dwells upon Moby Dick, the loss of his leg, and his oath of revenge. “The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails,” thinks Ahab, “whereon my soul is grooved to run” (183).

Starbuck feels cowed by Ahab’s passion and ambition, though he knows Ahab is being reckless. His soul feels heavy as he considers his duty as first mate at war with his duty toward the captain. Standing by the mainmast and looking out over the sea, he imagines that having such passion would drive him to self-destruction.

Below decks, he hears the revelry of the men. He recognizes the spark of life in them, driven forward by the hint of doom represented by Ahab. He wishes he could be driven forward unselfconsciously in the same way. He prays to fate to help him find the strength to face the future.

During the first Night-Watch, Stubb considers the Pequod’s new mission, and has perceptively noted Starbuck’s reluctance. For himself, he has made peace with Ahab’s passion ever since their first run-in and intends to die with as much comfort as he can muster, and with a song on his lips.

As the night proceeds, sailors on watch call to one another to mark the state of the sea and the hour. Below, all the crew and harpooners not currently occupied revel in a shared song. The men are identified by their nationality as French, Maltese, Icelandic, among many others. The narrative perspective shifts from man to man as some spur the crew to dance a jig to the tune of Pip’s tambourine. Still others watch the reverie curiously, wondering why people would want to break a sweat for no reason.

An experienced old Manxman echoes Starbuck’s concern for the future but understands his role in the hierarchy and keeps his doubts to himself. Dagoo and a Spaniard nearly enter a fight until a squall breaks that demands the sailor’s attention. As they scramble to position, Pip considers the fearlessness of the crew and their captain, and his own trepidation about the white whale. He prays to God to “preserve him from all men that have no bowels to feel fear” (193).

Ishmael says that he, too, joined the revelry, translating his dread into enthusiasm. The facts about Moby Dick combine with the legends, says Ishmael, but they form a fearsome impression.

News travels among whaleships sporadically, owing to the great distances they sail, and the length of time it takes to communicate ship-to-ship. Thus, sightings of Moby Dick seem to happen at every corner of the globe without discernible pattern. However, these sightings share two traits; that Moby Dick seems particularly large, intelligent and hateful, and that every captain that sights Moby Dick attempts to kill him and fails.

Whalemen are especially prone to rumor and superstition. Legends about the ferocity of southern versus northern whales, for instance, or of the thirst that sperm whales have for human blood. As the professionalization and efficiency of whale-hunting increased over the years, allowing hunters to move from right whales to more valuable and dangerous sperm whales, ancient superstitions about sperm whales seem to have accrued around the legends concerning Moby Dick rather than around the species in general.

Among these legends is that Moby Dick has been spotted in more than one place at one time. This combines with the knowledge that whales have been known to travel great distances in very short time, owing to mysterious underwater passages that read as supernatural to the Nineteenth Century mind. Another legend is that Moby Dick is immortal and has several fatal-looking harpoons sticking out of his back. Those who have sighted him note his white color, the height of his forehead, his extraordinary size, and a peculiar deformity of his lower jaw. The whale seems driven by human intelligence in these stories, feinting and retreating before doubling back to deliver decisive and deadly blows.

Ahab is a rare firsthand witness and victim to Moby Dick’s destructive power, having lost his leg in an altercation with the whale. To Ahab, the normal confusion, disappointment, and loss embedded within the human experience has become personified in the form of the white whale. In this physical form, such existential doubt and confusion can be defeated with a harpoon. In addition, Ahab is an uncommonly focused and passionate man. These traits combine to form a self-destructive and delusional monomania. Thinks Ahab (in Ishmael’s telling), “all my means are sane, my motive and my object mad” (202).

Ishmael considers it unsettling that the Pequod’s crew could fall in line behind such a doomed and monomaniacal passion.

Ishmael’s fear of Moby Dick is more particular than Ahab’s. “It was the whiteness of the whale that above all things appalled me,” he says (204).

Across cultures, the color white enhances beauty and indicates purity and spirituality. Ishmael cites both western and eastern cultures as incorporating whiteness into ceremonial and aesthetic experiences, referring to white horses and elephants in battle, the white marble of Roman statues, and the white vestments of a variety of priests. He repeats the racist stereotype of white supremacy as another example. However, he says, there is another quality to the color which is more mysterious and unsettling.

Many dangerous animals, which are already prone to cause fear, redouble their impression when their associative colors are removed by nature. White tigers and sharks are more terrifying than their commonly colored ilk, and the white albatross has long been considered a portent of doom. To this, Ishmael includes albino humans, as well as the white robes of assassins, and the bloodless pallor of the recently deceased. The White Tower of London, white fogs, and wintery white-out conditions all strike an indefinable fear in people.

Ishmael counters any argument as to his own cowardice by saying that the fear of whiteness is ancient and mysterious, as when a colt smells the musk of a predator, even when far removed from traditional hunting grounds. In conclusion, Ishmael speculates that what is terrifying about the color white is its absence of color, suggesting the unknowability of the universe. It is “a dumb blankness, full of meaning” (212). Ishmael evokes color theory, and the fact that light itself merely reflects color, containing no color itself. He then evokes, among other things, a pair of blinded eyes staring fruitlessly into the void of a Lapland winter. It is this fear that propels the hunt for Moby Dick.

Two crewmen named Cabaco and Archy watch the deck at night. Archy is alert to what he thinks are sounds of human habitation under the hatches; Cabaco is compelled only by getting his work done. Cabaco accuses his workmate of superstition, but Archy swears there are stowaways aboard.

Since the events of “The Quarter-Deck,” Ahab has studied nightly over a series of oceanographic maps, charting sightings of Moby Dick and correlating them to whale routes. He does so with intense moodiness.

Ishmael admits that it seems like an impossible task, at least to a layperson, to find one whale among all the oceans of the earth. However, experienced sailors like Ahab understand that whales travel in very particular cycles around the earth seeking food. Collating known sightings of Moby Dick with these periodic whaling routes, Ahab can hypothesize his likeliest whereabouts at any given time of year. Though the timing of the Pequod’s voyage means that it will not catch up to the white whale until a year has passed, Ahab charts a route that may account for the areas in which Moby Dick might stray in the meantime.

At night, Ahab sleeps fitfully, leaping and screaming from bed as a result of terrible nightmares. During the day, Ahab is a resolute and sober seaman. At night, he is chased by existential phantoms.