A HARANGUE FROM THE CAPTAIN
The watches and boats’ crews chosen, the captain called for attention and delivered himself of a speech. The gist of his message did not vary much from that of all other whaling skippers and his delivery was more or less colourful according to his ability as an orator.
Running his eye from man to man, so that none escaped the implied meaning behind the glance, he would voice his thoughts substantially as follows:—“This ship is a whaler and we’re out to kill whales. I tell you that now in case you might think you’re aboard a yacht and came along for a picnic. I’m captain and these are my officers, and when an order is given I want to see some jumping. I don’t want any loafers or grumblers. Loafers and grumblers only make trouble for themselves, and if any of you want trouble I’ll see that you damned well get it. You’ll get good food and all you need—so I don’t want to hear any growling about that. I won’t have any fighting or swearing. The sooner you fill the ship the sooner you’ll get home:—and remember; there’s only one captain aboard here and that’s me. If anyone wants to dispute that I’ll damned soon show him. That’ll do——”