Covert wished his blubber piled in our coal bunkers; the artist sketched him, and the draughtsman thought of putting him on a Mercator's projection.

For my part I have written the little I know of his life and experiences, but it is very little.

I cannot even say where he lodges, whose hats he wears, when his notes fall due, or whether he ever took a cobbler or the whooping cough.

Of course this incident led to stories concerning whales.

Captain Patterson told about the destruction of the ship Essex by a sperm whale thirty or more years ago.