Tales From The Little, Illustrated, Golden Library - Tales of the Sea - The Whaler - Emilio Salgari - Sixth Story

 The Whaler

MEMO

The following text may present outdated depictions that are in no way or form shared by the translator themself, and neither are they shared by the original author of these stories.

Please understand that these stories' depictions are a depiction of their time.

A good translator strives to transfer the originality, tone, and idea of a text from its language of birth to its guest language, all the while respecting the intent and style of the original author. 

These translated texts do not intend to bring offense, but just to share the adventures 

written by Captain Emilio Salgari. 

Adventures inspired by his love for traveling around the world, especially to far, foreign lands, his passion for ships and sailing in general, as well as his endless curiosity about other cultures and what's out there, beyond the horizon line.

VOCABULARY

crosstree = two horizontal pole of woods called spars present at the upper ends of the topmasts of sailing ships. (Source. 17.10.2025)

mainmast = the tallest mast* of a sailing ship that has more than one mast. (Source. 30.10.2025).

Note: alternative spelling: main-mast. 

*mast = a tall, slim post or tower, usually tapering upward, used to support, for example, sails or observation platforms on a ship. (Source. 02.12.2025)

mast = a tall spar or an arrangement of spars* erected vertically or near vertically on the median line of a ship or boat. (Source 1. 17.10.2025). The masts of traditional sailing ships were not single spars, as we've just mentioned that they could also be an arrangement of spars, each one with its own system of ropes, cables and chains (this is called rigging** (Source 2. 17.10.2025), and the topmast was one part of this sort of arrangement. (Source 3. 17.10.2025).

*spar = a pole of wood or metal used in the rigging of a sailing vessel to carry or support its sail. (Source. 28.10.2025).

**rigging = term used for the system of ropes, cables, and chains, which support and control the sailing ship's masts and sails. (Source. 28.10. 2025).

deck = the floorlike covering of the horizontal sections, or compartments, of a ship or boat. Small vessels have only one deck; larger ships have two or three decks. (Source. 15.01.2026)

promontory = raised mass of land that projects into a lowland or body of water. (Source. 17.10.2025).

dinghy ( dinghies is the plural form) = small rowing boat, used by larger ships for service or as support to them. They are also called ship's tender or just tender. (Source 1. 17.10.2025) (Source 2. 17.10.2025).

davit = any kind of crane-like device used on a ship to support, raise, lower, equipment such as boats and anchors. (Source. 17.10.2025).

prow = may be used as a synonym for the more commonly used term, bow*, but it can also mean the most forward part of the bow that is above the waterline (the waterline is where the body of a ship meets the water). (Source. 17.10.2025).

*bow = the most forward point of a boat or ship. (Source. 17.10.2025).

🐳🚢🐳

Whales! How much wonder has the sight of the skeleton of such a giant of the sea awoken in you, my dear, young readers? Skeletons that can be seen and visited in many zoological museums all around Italy?

I imagine that more than once, you have asked yourselves, while standing in front of those skeletons, equipped with gigantic ribs, and mandibles that are several metres long, what kind of an effect must those colossal mammals have on one when they are covered in skin, flesh, and while still swimming inside the boundless ocean.

Thus, today I want to talk to you about these giants of the sea and narrate to you some of the amazing adventures lived by the whalers.

Surely, you are not surprised to hear me speak about whalers, because you certainly have read in many books about how there are men so daring that they take on, and kill, those beasts.

Whales, I'll tell you right now, aren't as numerous now as they used to be two or three hundred years ago or so. Even so, even in this day and age can they be often encountered, especially in the icy seas of the Arctic* and Antarctic** Pole.

They are all huge in size, frequently exceeding twenty metres in length, and their weight varying between sixty and eighty thousand kilograms.

Their shape is that of a spindle that on one side ends with a very large head equipped with a mouth that is three metres long and four metres wide, the upper jaw covered by some type of teeth that are five metres long, a bit curved, mostly variegated, all of those being seven hundred in number.

These are what you call whalebones*** and that are used in the making of corsets and luxury umbrellas.

The other end of the spindle ends instead in a tail with two fins of an immeasurable power, three metres long and two metres wide, that give the whale such a speed that it could travel around the globe in fifteen or twenty days.

These giants are hunt down for their fat, which is then transformed in oil. From some whales, one can obtain as much as two hundred drums**** with the value of eight or ten thousand lire.

At the beginning of the good season, in May and June, that is, when the Arctic Ocean starts to remove the ice that covers it during the winter months, the whaling ships set out from the ports of Norway and go looking for those great, big, mammals on the coasts of Spitzbergen*****, or on those of Novaya Zemlya******. 

These ships aren't big, having a tonnage of two hundred fifty or three hundred tons; they are, though, mounted by very brave men, long used to the extremely dangerous hunts and to the terrible tempests that frequently disturb the Arctic Ocean.

Now that you know what the whales and who the whalers are, I want to tell you about a few exciting hunts that were told to me by a friend of mine, a captain, whom I had met during one of my trips to Norway.

***

Beyond the North Cape, the Northernmost point of Europe*******, along the coasts of Lapland, a very deep strait opens up, or, rather, a fiord********* as the Norwegians call it, which today has become extremely famous because of the whales present in that place.

On a small island that appears almost at the entrance of that twisting gulf, for a few years now, the most famous whalers gathered under the command of a famous captain called Fayn.

On that piece of land that a few years ago or so it didn't have even as much as ten residents, now can be found grand establishments, a multitude of workers and hundreds of seafarers. Puffing machines, that either whistle or snore from morning until night as they move enormous pillars, while several extremely high funnels spew big clouds of smoke.

Along the coasts, many ships come and go as they haul enormous masses that are nothing else than the whales killed in the Arctic Ocean and then towed in that strait.

On that island, the giants of the sea are dismembered.

The fat that is torn off of those monstrous backs is liquefied inside gargantuan boilers in order to obtain the oil that later on will be used to lubricate the machines; the bones ground by the pillars result in a lampblack; the meat, interred inside pits becomes excellent fertilizer destined to fatten up the fields of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.

It's from that island that the fleet of whalers sets off every year.

During those days, there's a lot of chaos that goes on all the coasts. Steamers and sailing ships both finish loading their supplies, board their crews, long ago chosen, then leave for an adventure, intent on braving the ice and polar winds, just for the chance to return with some great, big whale in tow.

Not all of those fishermen hunt those giants of the sea in the same way.

The sailing ships still use whaleboats********** and harpoons; the steamers, instead, use a small cannon that shoots either arrows or balls filled with strychnine, a highly poisonous substance that likely has a higher kill rate than even a hand grenade or other martial contraptions.

In 1884, one of those ships had left the gulf in order to scour the waters of Spitzbergen that were said to be often frequented by the whales.

It was under the command of the captain that was my friend, a very experienced man when it came to fishing and that had repeatedly faced the ice of the Arctic Ocean and the giants of the sea.

That ship was a small skooner that weighed three hundred tons, mounted by twenty men and armed with three whaleboats.

He had ten months worth of supplies, so he could venture deeper into North while searching for whales, the latter by now having retreated in the colder climates.

The voyage had been very cheerful, despite the the extremely cold winds and the ice encountered in the vicinity of the North Cape.

Mid-June, the ship was arriving in sight of Spitzbergen, a group of islands of a remarklable extension that can be found in the middle of the Arctic Ocean and inhabited only by polar bears, seals, walruses and seabirds.

Captain Svatt - this is my friend's name - had already been in those places several times before and knew the coasts of those lands by heart, so the first thing he did was make sure they headed into a rather spacious bay that he supposed was frequented by whales.

The hope in his heart hadn't let him down.

Right at the entrance of the bay, his sailors had immediately taken notice of some large, oily spots, that were indicating that one of those large cetaceans had just recently passed by; then they had noticed large fishing banks consisting of small crabs, one of the whales' favourite meals.

"Guys", he addressed his crew, "we'll shortly become extremely busy."

The head harpooner, a cabin boy as sturdy as Hercules, that had harpooned several cetaceans, came forward:

"Captain, if my eyes don't deceive me, I have already caught sight of a whale and I think there's a whale calf together with her, as well."

"You've already found one, Klass?", the captain inquired, amazed.

"I just now climbed down from the crosstree of the mainmast. The cetacean hid herself behind the northern promontory and we'll waste no time in finding her."

"If a whale calf is together with her, things are going to be difficult.", grumbled the captain. "When it comes to defending their offspring, whales become nasty to deal with."

He climbed up on the crow's nest of the mainmast where there was a strong telescope and before giving the command of arming the whaleboats, scanned the horizon for a very long time.

North of the bay, there was a pointed promontory, that was ending in series of rocky islets all still covered in fragments of ice.

Precisely between the first reef and the most extreme point of the promontory, there was an outline of a large, dark spot that would alternate between appearing just slighty above the surface of the water and then submerging itself.

"It's a whale, undoubtedly.", grumbled the captain. "It chose an unsuitable place for it to be hunt down, full of dangers, but Klass is a marvelous harpooner and won't let her get away."

He climbed back down on the deck and lost no time in giving the order:

"Lower the whaleboats!"

Two long dinghies, of an extraordinary robustness, were immediately lowered from the davits, in each of them six men present, that is one harpooner, one helmsman, and four rowers.

Those dinghies are steered with a long oar, which is by far more effective than one of the usual boat's wheel and they include two harpoons that are some kind of lances, whose external edges are very sharp, while their internal ones are very big. Both of those lances have a flat, rounded blade and several lines that are four hundred yards long each.

Klass, true to his worth as head harpooner, immediately pushed his whaleboat forward, while the other whaleboat took to the open sea in order to prevent the whale from escaping, in case it would have tried seeking refuge in the high seas.

"Guys!", Klass shouted, having already armed himself with a harpoon. "Be careful! When there's a whale calf involved, the fight becomes ten times more dangerous. First and foremost, let's try to take the mother by surprise while she's still having breakfast."

"It might prove difficult to do", replied the helmsman, a gigantic Dane that enjoyed the fame of being one of the best pilots for the Arctic Ocean. "Nonetheless, we will do our best, Klass."

The whaleboat had crossed the bay and was approaching the promontory in order to pull over near the reefs, behind which the whale and the whale calf must have been hiding.

The sailors had slowed their rowing down and advanced slowly, cautiously, careful not to attract the attention of the cetacean that was supposedly busy swallowing down clamworms*********** and small crabs in the company of its little one.

Klass, standing up on the prow, harpoon ready in his hand, was trying to catch sight of her, with no success for the time being.

When the whaleboat reached its first reef, he gave a short, cutting command:

"Stop!"

Between the promontory and the reef, the chased whale had suddenly come into view, followed, at a short distance, by its calf, a little baby that was no less than seven metres long.

The body of the mostrous cetacean was only semi-submerged; its mass, wrapped in a shiny and oily skin, caressed by the sun, shone like an immense steel spindle.

Every now and then, from its blowholes situated on its large head, two columns of off white steam would shoot out with a great, deep racket, that, after rising for a few metres, would dissolve, breaking up in small, oily drops.

The whale hadn't yet noticed the presence of its enemies.

It was slowly swimming, incessantly opening its huge mouth and swallowing its soup, because those fishing banks full of crabs are indeed called whales' soup.

The whale calf, already sated, was playing near its mother, tumbling, and raising waves with its already very sturdy tail, waves that would crash, bellowing, against the promontory and the reefs.

"What do you think, helmsman?", Klass asked the huge Dane.

"I think it won't be hard to take her by surprise."

"It's the calf that worries me. As soon as he'll notice us, he'll sound off the alarm and then the mother will take us on."

"If she won't escape to the high seas."

"Our companions are already advancing towards the reef and they will be ready to cut her off."

"Then let's keep going, Klass.", said the pilot. "Are you ready?"

"The harpooner in my hand is itching for action."

"Throw it right now and don't miss."

"I'm sure of my aim and I have faith in my arm."

The whaleboat resumed its movements, advancing in silence, while the other one, having already arrived at its first reefs, was hiding behind a rock, ready to show itself the moment the battle started.

Klass, with his right leg firmly caught inside a groove that is present inside all whaleboats, had raised the harpoon and was swinging it back and forth to build momentum for a greater leap.

He had already instructed to have the four hundred and fifty yards line of the harpoon attached to the boat's mast************.

The whaleboat rapidly arrived as far as thirty steps of distance from the whale, without the latter taking notice of it, being engrossed in having her breakfast.

In that moment, the calf had distanced itself from the mother, playing around near a reef. 

It was the right moment.

Klass raised the harpoon and hurled it with all his might.

The heavy lance set off hissing and went on to sink in the right side of the cetacean, in a place full of tendons and muscles, a little more ahead of the fins.

A moment after, the poor giant of the sea emitted a metallic, booming cry, madly shook her tail, raising two immense waves in the process, and suddenly dove deeper, creating on the surface a large vortex.

"Got her?", shouted the sailors.

"Silence", said the pilot. "Watch out for the waves!"

The whaleboat had immediately retreated in order to prevent being flipped over by the waves raised by the powerful tail of the whale, seeking refuge among the reefs.

A deep anxiety took over everyone, although those sailors had been hardened by the ugliest of surprises.

Especially Klass had become extremely pale.

"None of you a word.", he said, arming himself with a second harpoon. 

Seeing its mother submerging itself under water, the calf followed suit. He had understood that he was in grave danger.

The second whaleboat, meanwhile, was slowly advancing, in order to offer support to the first one.

Still, it didn't leave the high seas, being unsure of where the cetacean would next appear.

"Look out!", Klass suddenly shouted. "The whale is about to re-emerge!"

A few moments later, at about fifty metres of distance from the whaleboat, appeared a blackish dot, the extremity of its face, then the blowholes, then the whole mass emerged in one fell swoop, raising a huge, circular wave.

The whale was returning to the resurface, furious about the wound she had just received. The previous harpoon that Klass had so dexteriously thrown was still stuck in her side, the wound bleeding profusely, turning the waters red.

Seeing the whaleboat, with a single flick of the tail she pushed the calf away, with that brutal caress advising him to save himself, and then charged at the whaleboat as she sent out formidable war cries.

The helmsman immediately shouted:

"We need to get out of here! Pick up the oars and don't spare a single moment!"

The whaleboat, with a lightning quick speed, was able to move out of the giant's way, dodging its attack as it went to hide behind another reef.

The cetacean, blind with rage and pain, madly raced, disturbing the sea with her terrible tail.

She would lift herself up, getting half out of the water, sink back down with a great crash, and then come back to the surface as she would roll herself up, trying to get rid of the harpoon, the latter instead going deeper and deeper in her flesh.

"Let's try cutting off the sinews of her tail.", Klass suggested, seeing that the giant wasn't showing any signs of growing weaker. 

He had armed himself with the harpoon with the sharp ball, and had motioned to the pilot to get closer to the whale.

Despite the waves, the whaleboat had left its hiding place and was headed towards the promontory, intent on approaching the giant.

The endeavour, however, wasn't easy, as the whale wasn't intent on letting itself be taken by surprise a second time, nor did it seem to grow weaker after all that blood loss. Quite the contrary, it seemed as if all pain gave her even more energy and intensified her rage.

She continued sinking with a crash as loud as thunder, then it would come back to the surface launching from her blowholes dense columns of steam, and would hurl herself in every direction in the hopes of bumping into the whaleboat and shattering it.

The sailors had their work cut out for them, dodging and withstanding the blows of the sea.

After ten minutes, though, it seemed as if the cetacean was giving off signs of tiredness. She was no longer hurling herself with that same force she first had and was decreasing her immersions.

"Get her!", Klass shouted. "If all goes well, in a few moments the whale will be ours."

So, raising his voice, shouted to the men of the second whaleboat.

"Move forward and prepare the lines!"

The whale, in that moment, had submerged herself after sending out a last and more tremendous cry.

Klass let the whaleboat approach and awaited the whale with his harpoon raised.

Once he saw the monster re-emerging and raising her tail, he hurled his weapon, hitting her under the last of her vertebrae.

As the hit landed, creating a new wound, a frightful cry came from the ill-fated whale, who then abruptly turned around and charged at the second whaleboat that in that moment had just completed its second lap around the promontory.

Shattering it with the wave of a fin, then tossing men and scraps up into the air with the wave of a tail, was just a matter of moments.

The seven sailors, killed instantly, had fallen back into the sea without so much as a single scream.

Klass, as pale as a washed up rag, hurled a third harpoon, hoping to bring on himself the fury of the giant of the sea, but he had not made it in time to prevent the catastrophe.

"Let's avenge them!", he shouted, his voice choked with sobs.

He had barely finished shouting that he saw the enormous mass charge at him.

The cetacean had noticed the other whaleboat and was furiously charging at it in order to subject it to the same horrible fate as the previous one.

"Back away!", yelled the pilot.

Too late! The giant, for the second time, had abruptly turned around at incredible speed, and had hurled its tail in a formidable attack.

Luckily, the moment the tail attack was launched, the whaleboat had been run over by a wave, sinking it, so the tail landed only on the water of the sea.

In a second, all the men found themselves in the water. The four sailors, a lot luckier, could grab and hold on to the reef, quickly climbing back on it, while Klass and the pilot had been pushed out to open sea by the counter-wave.

The two of them had managed to grab on to the line of the first harpoon, grabbing onto it with an intensely desperate energy.

"Don't let go of it, Klass!", the pilot shouted.

"We'll be dragged away!", replied the harpooner.

"Don't worry about that now, Klass!"

The whale, having freed herself of her adversaries, started searching for her calf, rapidly heading towards the exit of the bay.

Klass and the Dane let themselves be dragged away by her, alternating between going under and over the water. 

"Klass!", the Dane suddenly spoke up, fearing being killed by a wave of the fin of the gigantic cetacean. "Let's try climbing on the whale's body. Are you hurt?"

"No.", the harpooner replied.

"Do you have enough strength left to pull yourself up on her?"

"I hope so."

"Then let's climb up and try delivering the final blow to the cetacean. The ship has only just now resumed sailing and won't be reaching us for many hours."

"All the better, since this damn cetacean doesn't seem to give any sign of growing weak.", replied the harpooner.

Using the strength of their arms, the two sailors, little by little, reached the harpoon, without the latter breaking under their weight and, what was even more strange, without the whale having noticed their bold climbing.

Holding on to the harpoon, the two sailors, still amazed by their luck, fixed their gaze, both of their gazes a mix of surprise and terror, on the cetacean as they watched her continue her mad race towards the high seas, jumping over the waves.

With hoarse cries, that were becoming fainter and fainter, the poor mother was calling for her calf. It was obvious that she was starting to lose her strength. The blood was pouring profusely from her wounds, reddening the waters, and the entire mass, every now and then, shivering intensely.

The water from her blowholes, as well, was becoming less and less abundant and more torbid.

Meanwhile, the ship had set sail, following her. Its crew had seen the two whaleboats disappear and was intent on avenging its companions. Unfortunately, the wind was weak and the ship couldn't compete with the speed of that fast monster.

Klass and the pilot anxiously watched as the ship grew more and more distant behind them. What would have become of them, had the whale sunk after her death, as it often happened?

"I think it's over for us.", Klass said. "We'll sink together with the whale and the sharks will eat us."

"As will do the gladiator dolphins*************.", the pilot confirmed. "There are a lot of them in these waters, and they are incredibly voracious."

In that moment, the whale let out a hoarse cry and two gushes of red water gushed out from its blowholes.

A formidable tremor came over her, raised her head, hit the water with her tail about two or three times, then stretched out on the water.

She had died!

Night was then falling and with the darkness came the fog.

The two sailors, holding on to the harpoon, crouched down in one of the many gibbosities that disfigure the back of those giants of the sea.

The ship had disappeared in the fog and the sea was starting to swell up.

The enormous body of the whale was slowly rolling, and the water that was entering in her huge mouth that had been left open was bellowing gravely.

Every moment, the sailors were under the impression that the whale's body had suddenly disappeared from under them, leaving them in the middle of the sea.

When dawn came, however, the whale's body was still floating, and the ship, that had incessantly searched for them despite the fog, could be spotted.

The captain, before the night fell, had spotted them on the back of the cetacean with the help of a telescope and, after having rescued the rowers of the whaleboats, had resumed his search for them, heading to the open sea.

His good luck had led him on the whale's trail, reaching her just when the two sailors thought themselves irrevocably doomed. As you can imagine, the cetacean wasn't abandoned there. She was towed until inside the fiord and her entire skeleton can today be seen at the museum present in Hammerfest**************.

🐳🚢🐳 

Source of the tale (16.10.2025).

___________________________________________________________________________________

*Arctic Pole = North Pole.

**Antarctic Pole = South Pole.

*** Whalebone is a historical term referring to the stiffening of corsets. You can read more about them here.(16.10.2025).

**** Here, it means "barrel", but the proper term for a great, cylindric, container that contains oil is "drum".

***** Spitzbergen is the only populated island of the Svalbard Archipelago in Northern Norway in the Arctic Ocean. (Source. 16.10.2025).

****** Novaya Zemlya is an archipelago in Northern Russia, situated in the Arctic Ocean, in the extreme Northeast of Europe. (Source. 16.10.2025).

******** The Northernmost point is Ross Island, Svalbard, Norway. However, during Captain Salgari's time, it was probably considered the North Cape. (Source. 16.10.2025)

********* The proper term is fjord, which defines a long, narrow, sea inlet with steep sides or cliffs, created by a glacier. Fiord is what we would call Salgarian penmanship. (Source. 16.10.2025)

********** A whaleboat is a type of open boat that was used to chase and harpoon whales. The whaleship would keep watch as the events would unfold. The whaleship is a term used for both steamers and sailing ships that were used from the early 16th century to the early 20th century, even though they had different methods of hunting whales.

The whale catcher, which is a different ship than the previous two, was also developed in the early 20th century, but it ran solely on steam, and later on switched to running on diesel, not to mention it was designed with a harpoon gun mounted at its bow and was fast enough to chase and catch rorquals such as the fin whale. (Source. 17.10.2025)

*********** Clamworms, also known as ragworms, is a more name for the  Nereididae family, which include 500 (most of them marine) species of worms. Some whales, like the beluga whales, eat sandworms, which are a type of clamworms that belong to the Nereididae family. (Source. 17.10.2025).

************ Whaleboats had a single, removable mast. (Source. 17.10.2025).

*************Gladiator dolphins, or orcas or killer whales, used to be feared in the West, considered dangerous predators, but attacks on humans tend to be rare and mostly by mistake, with none of them resulting in fatalities. If you'd like to learn more about orcas (and whales in general), I suggest you watch this video. (Source. 21.10.2025)

************** Hammerfest is a city in Norway. The only two museums I have been able to find out about are the Royal and Ancient Polar Bear Society (founded in 1963) and the Museum of Reconstruction for Finnmark and North Troms (founded in 1998). Since history says that the city was razed to the ground by the retreating German military forces at the end of World War II, it is likely that the museum Captain Salgari mentions no longer exists. (Source 1. 21.10.2025) (Source 2. 21.10.2025)

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Personal Notes:

It is said that the stories written by Emilio Salgari are stories he would hear from sailors, when he would go to visit the dock.

His best and most known work, "Sandokan, The Tiger of Malaysia" has been proven to bear resemblance to true historical facts, starting with the firstly-thought-of-as-fictional island, Mompracem (currently known as Kuraman Island), and with the strong impression that Sandokan is no other than a fictional representation of Syarif Osman, who ruled Marudu (north of Borneo) (I recommend you go here for more information about Sandokan or Syarif Osman. Miss Bianca has done a marvelous job in finding, gathering, and translating information about Salgari and his works, especially those concerning the character of Sandokan).

Going by this, I strongly suspect that all of Emilio Salgari's stories are based on true, historical happenings and people, the sands of time mercilessly erasing most of their traces.

Emilio Salgari's stories feature places from all around the world; many of them feature places as far as possible from Europe itself. It is not far fetched that a story from your own hometown might be present in one of his writings, regardless of how remote or unknown you might think it might be to others.

If you know how to find the original, historical, sources of any of the stories present on this blog or if you even recognize one of them here as a local, known story (or legend) to you, please feel free to contact me.

I would love to put both the story written by Salgari and the historical one side by side and not let these names become forgotten.

Thank you very much for your assistance.