Moby Dick; Or, The Whale

Beer and Beef Allowance

The narrator calculates the beer consumption: with 180 sail of Dutch whalemen, 30 men per ship totaling 5,400 seamen, and only about twelve weeks for a summer cruise to Spitzbergen and back, this yields precisely two barrels of beer per man for a twelve weeks’ allowance, plus a fair proportion of the 550 ankers of gin. The narrator ponders whether these gin-and-beer-fuddled harpooneers were the right sort to stand in a boat’s head and aim at flying whales—seemingly improbable, yet they succeeded. This was in very far North where beer agrees with constitutions; on the Equator in southern fisheries, beer would make harpooneers sleepy at the mast-head and boozy in their boats, causing grievous loss.

The Decanter

The old Dutch whalers of two or three centuries ago were high livers, and the English whalers have not neglected so excellent an example. The Dutch sailors believed that when cruising in an empty ship, if you can get nothing better out of the world, you should get a good dinner out of it, at least. This philosophy of provisioning empties the decanter—drinking heartily from the ship’s liquor supply. The chapter title refers metaphorically to this tradition of Dutch-influenced whaling hospitality and abundance.

CAPÍTULO 102. A Bower in the Arsacides.

This chapter presents Ishmael’s comprehensive examination of the sperm whale’s skeleton, which he describes as the whale’s “unconditional skeleton.” Having previously focused on the outer aspects and interior structural features of the sperm whale, Ishmael now determines to present the complete framework of leviathan’s bones.

Sperm Whale Skeleton Examination

Ishmael employs metaphorical language about unbuttoning, unbuckling, and loosening the whale to reveal its innermost bones. He aims to display the complete skeletal framework of leviathan, including what he terms the “tallow-vats, dairy-rooms, butteries, and cheeseries in his bowels.”

Ishmael’s Authority on Whale Anatomy

Ishmael anticipates challenges to his authority, questioning how a mere oarsman in the fishery could possess knowledge of the whale’s subterranean parts. He wonders whether erudite Stubb delivered lectures on Cetacea anatomy using specimen ribs hoisted by windlass. He acknowledges that since Jonah, few whalemen have penetrated beneath the skin of the adult whale, yet he claims privileged knowledge through a unique opportunity.

Juvenile Sperm Whale Dissection

Ishmael recounts dissecting a small cub Sperm Whale that was bodily hoisted to the deck to make sheaths for harpoon barbs and lance heads. Using his boat-hatchet and jack-knife, he claims to have examined all the contents of that young cub, gaining detailed anatomical knowledge.

Knowledge from King Tranquo of the Arsacides

For knowledge of the full-grown whale’s bones in their gigantic development, Ishmael credits his late royal friend Tranquo, king of Tranque in the Arsacides. He was invited to spend part of the Arsacidean holidays at Tranquo’s palm villa at Pupella, a sea-side glen near Bamboo-Town, while attached to the trading-ship Dey of Algiers.

Pupella’s Stranded Sperm Whale Skeleton

King Tranquo, devoted to barbarian vertu, collected rare carved woods, chiselled shells, inlaid spears, costly paddles, and aromatic canos. Among his treasures was a great Sperm Whale found dead and stranded after a long raging gale, its head against a cocoa-nut tree. After the body was stripped and bones dried in the sun, the skeleton was transported to a grand palm temple. The ribs hung with trophies, vertebrae bore Arsacidean hieroglyphics, an aromatic flame burned in the skull recreating the jet, and the terrifying lower jaw vibrated from a bough like Damocles’ sword.

Arsacidean Wood and Verdant Loom Metaphor

The scene is described as a wondrous display where green wood, tall trees, and earth as a weaver’s loom create a living carpet. The sun appears as a flying shuttle weaving verdure, leading Ishmael into an extended philosophical meditation on the cosmic weaver-god who weaves yet remains deaf to mortal voices. He suggests that in the din of the great world’s loom, subtlest thoughts may be overheard afar, and mortals must be heedful. Within this verdant loom, the great white skeleton lounges—Life folds Death, Death trellises Life, and the grim god weds with youthful Life.