40 barrel sperm whale is average size

"That hundred-barrel whale is on the ground somewhere, and if we look long enough we shall find him,"

We had not seen whales for some ten days, when one evening just at sunset, as the mast-head men were descending for the night from their airy perch, one stopped short in the rigging, and shouted,
    "There blows, by all that's good and bad;  just under our lee!"
    The whale, a lone fish -- evidence that he is old and large -- was in plain sight from the main rigging, not more than half a mile off.

All unnecessary noise was strictly forbidden.  The customary creaking of the yards, as they chafed against the rigging, was a torture to the captain, and several times during the night he had the yard-mats greased to lessen the noise.  Orders were given to make no noise when calling the watch.   The bell was not struck all night.   No lights were allowed upon deck.   

A bed was arranged for him on the break of the poop.

"There he blows!"  he repeated in delighted tones, as at intervals of nearly a minute the bushy spout of a sperm whale appeared above the blue wave.   
    "It must be a large whale, by the length of time between his spouts," said the third mate, who was getting his boat ready.
    The morning was beautiful, but rather bad for whaling.  It was dead calm, and the sea, almost motionless, displayed a surface as smooth an shining as glass.   Such days delight the landsman.   TO the whaleman they forebode unusual care in the approach, usual ill-success, and a long day's chase after gallied whales.
  He sounded and was down for 70 minutes.   He arose and remained on the surface for quite some time.  Upon the cry of "There goes flukes!" announcing his descent into the depths of the ocean below us, we eagerly leaped into the boats and set out for the spot where we expected he would next make his appearance.   The captain took the lead and chose the place he thought most favorable.   Each of the others chose his berth, and there we lay, oars peaked, paddles in hand, ears and eyes strained, to catch the first sound or sight of the expected prize.
   The minutes seemed hours as we lay waiting.  Searching first the waters around us, our gaze gradually extended to waters more distant thinking the whale may have surfaced some distance away.   Faces that had been eager, grew long and sober with hope deferred.   One and another grew weary with looking our, and reclined lazily in the boat, leaving the out-look to the officers.
    "There blows," shouted the boat-steerer, pointing to where, indeed, the faint spray of a whale's spout was just reuniting itself with the sea.   The fish was a full half mile off.
    "It's our chance," said the mate to the third mate, who was the partner-boat for this occasion.   "Let there be no racing.   I will go out and fasten.  You follow close in my wake, to be ready in case of accident."
    The whale lay almost motionless upon the placid surface.   An occasional spout was the only token of life about him.   We dared not use our oars.   Paddles, provided for such occasions as this, were therefor used.  Sitting upon the gunwale of the boat, with our faces to the whale, we paddled on might and main.   The third mate followed grumblingly in our wake.  The other two boats were some distance astern.  In twenty minutes we were within the critical distance of our fish.  All was now a silence as of death.  The scene was most exciting.  There lay the fish, unconscious of approaching danger, now heaving his vast body a little above the surface, now slowly burying his head beneath the wave,  now slowly burying his head beneath the wave, as he lazily forged ahead, and anon emitting a bushy mass of spray, with a loud resonant spout, whose increasing volume of sound struck pleasantly upon our ears, as evidence of our neared approach.   Meantime, we dipped our paddles silently into the water, each man intently viewing the huge fish before us, and with compressed lips, and strained muscles, urging the boat ahead.
    "Pull, you rascals!"  whispered the mate -- then, "O, what a back!"
    "Show your blood, my bully men!"   -- then, "Look, what a head!"
    "Do put me on this time!"  Just see that hump!"
    "Lay out your muscles, you heathens!  What flukes!"
    And now we are almost over the broad flukes.   Still -- so silent has been our approach -- the whale wallows on, in ignorance of our presence.  The boat-steerer has put away his paddle, and now stands, with determined countenance and uplifted iron, firmly balanced in the bow.
    Now the mate, with one or two lusty strokes of his steering-oar, lays the boat around.  We drop our paddles.  The boat still nears him.  No one dares move.  All eyes are riveted upon the whale.  Why don't he dart?  each mentally asks himself.  Now--
    "Give it to him, you, sir!"  and as the iron is darted deep into his side --
    "And the other one, quick!"
    A quick, sharp stroke of the whale's flukes upon the water, covering us with spray, and then he throws those flukes high out of the water, and with the velocity of, it appears, of light, sounds bottomward.
    "Wet line!  Wet line!"  is shouted, as the line flies smoking over the bow.
    "Come here, quick, and bend on you line!"
    The third mate instantly reaches us his line.  It is scarce united to ours, when the last flake is torn out of the tub, and with undiminished speed the line rushes out over the bows of the third mate's boat.   
    Down, down, down, sounded the whale, with a velocity which can scarce be imagined.   Five lines were out, and part of the sixth, before the slackened speed showed that he had ceased from his downward course, and was now ascending toward daylight.   In cased where a whale takes out several lines, it is usual for each boat to haul in its own, and then pass the end to the next boat.  We were, therefore, once more the fast boat, when the line was hauled in.  The others immediately began to work upon the whale.  The skipper fastened to him, putting two irons in solidly, "for fear of accidents."   As he sounded to such a depth, it was thought best that the other two boats should play loose, reserving, their lines to bend on to the others.
    On feeling the captain's irons in his flesh, the whale rolled over on his side, and, open-mouthed, made a dart for the boat.  He missed her and sounded to a little distance.  On rising again, the second mater proceeded to lance him.   Being a loose boat, he pulled up boldly.  The whale, however, had his eye upon him.  As the boat approached, he gave two or three violent blows on the water with his flukes, and then rushed toward the boat, flinging his long, formidable jaw about, and making the white water fly in all directions.
    "Stern off!  Stern! -- back water, Mr._______!"  shouted the captain, who was anxiously watching the actions of the whale.  Too late.   The crew did their best but with a persistence somewhat unusual in a sperm whale, he came on after, and finally struck the boat a blow under the bow, which stove a hole in her.   In the same moment, however, the second mate gave him a lance, which ought, and would, had it been long enough, have reached his life.  On feeling the boat, the whale seemed to grow frantic.   he struck out wildly  in all directions, and for a few moments we, the lookers-on, lost sight of the injured boat, in the spray and white water, and gave her up for lost.  The crew, however, had hastily stuffed their shirts in the hole in the bow, and continued backing astern till they were clear of the whale, who still enveloped himself in a mass of foam, spray, and white water.
    "I wonder if he is not going in his flurry?" was asked more than once.  But that was too good to be true.
    By lashing their oars across the boat, and setting two men to bail, the crew of the disabled boat were soon in condition to paddle away from the immediate scene of combat, toward the ship.  They were force to be unwilling lookers-on at the battle.
    "Let me try him this time," asked the third mate of the skipper.
    "I will engage his attention, and you may lance him if you can.   I will try and put in a lance, too," was the answer.
    Accordingly, the skipper pulled his boat square on the whale, who could, of course, see such an approach.   This time, to our surprise, he lay quite still.   The third mate, meantime, approached from ahead, and unperceived by the fish.  The boats were yet perhaps half a ship's length off, when the whale turned suddenly, and became aware of the presence of one more boat than he had reckoned for.   With fury in every action, he instantly backed toward the captain's boat.  This is one of the ugliest maneuvers a whale has in his power.  He can back very fast, and as he is in such case continually and violently striking out with his flukes, there is scarcely a chance to get out of his way.   in vain the captain's crew backed water;  in vain they tugged at the oars;  in vain the steering oar was wielded to throw the boat clear.   There was no time for anything but speedy backing.  In a moment the boat was struck.  This time no sooner was she struck than the whale sunk beneath the wave.
    "Back water yet! Back water for your lives!"  shouted the captain,  "the whale is right under us."  He continued, as, lance in hand, he peered over the bow of the now fast-filling boat, to discover if possible the precise locality of the whale.
    "Here he comes!  Jump, every one of you!  It's no use to try to get the boat clear!"
    The words were not out of his mouth, when, with a crash, the boat was flung high in air, oars, line-tubs, water-breakers, irons, and lances falling in all directions, as she herself returned to the water a shattered wreck.  Two of the crew were carried up in her, but spi8lled out before she reached the water.  The rest had jumped out, in the moment when she was struck.  The captain was the last on the boat.  He saw the whale, and bravely put a lance into him, at the imminent risk of his own life.
    The whale had come up head-foremost, under the boat, and striking her about amidship, sent her at least ten feet into the air.   She was a complete wreck.
    The captain got into the second mate's boat, and took charge of her.  The rest of the crew were picked up by the already wrecked third mate's boat, which was now pulled to a safer distance from the scene of combat.  
    "Pull up, men," said our skipper, when the whale was once more quiet.  It was a maneuver now performed with considerable caution.   
    "Do you keep in his sight, and engage his attention, and I will try to give him his death," was the order given to our boat.  We pulled down toward the infuriate beast, which no sooner saw us than he "came for us."
    "Stern all!" was the cry again,  nearly too late.  Open-mouthed he rushed toward us, and our fate seemed sealed, when our stroke oarsman, in desperation, lifted his oar, and darted in deep down the whale's gullet.  At that he snapped together his awful-looking jaws, and sank beneath the boat, only, however, to rise again with renewed vigor and fury, and without a moment's hesitation to make for our boat.  We sterned off again.   He seemed to understand our motions perfectly, and gave us no chance to turn the boat away from him.  For full ten minutes he each moment threatened our instant annihilation.
    But, look, the captain comes at last.  "Pull me on, boys!" he shouted -- "I'll kill him, or he shall kill me!"
    To the mate: "Keep him a little longer engaged, and let me rush on him.  Then I'll finish him.  Pull, pull, I tell you -- no hesitation!"
    They pulled him directly on.  The boat's bow struck the side of the furious leviathan with such force as to knock the men from their seats.  Still we were backing off with might and main.  But as the captain's boat struck the whale's side, the skipper plunged a long right whale lance into his life, and with a huge start and quiver, our enemy stopped mid-course.
    "There's blood!" was the joyful cry, when he next shouted.
    "Stern all for your lives!  he's in his flurry!" was now the cry.  We paid out line and lay off while the huge fish struggled with death.
    In a few minutes all was over.   The whale lay on his side, "fins up," and we were victors.
    Three cheers from ship and boats attested our joy.  The whale made one hundred and two barrels.  He measured sixty-seven feet in length.  His flukes covered our main deck.  His teeth would have furnished half a dozen dentists with a life-long supply of ivory.  A noble specimen.