Rich Man's Coffin by K Martin Gardner Read Free Book Online

and rain slowly ceased, the seas stilled and the ship once again slipped smoothly through the water.   The Captain assessed the damage. The crew began unfurling and fitting new sheets. The situation returned to normal.   The ship had successfully made the turn and survived its worst!   The crew began to let out bouts of cheers as they slapped one another on the back.   The Captain ordered a head count. No one was visible in the side nets; and the word of all accounted for came back to the Captain. He looked skyward.  
    There was Arthur in the crow's nest against the backdrop of a clearing night sky.   As he hung the net straps to one side and stretched his arms, he heard a fluttering sound in the rigging above him.   He looked around in the darkness for a shred of tattered sail, but saw nothing.   Exhausted from the ordeal, he decided that all inspection work could wait for the morrow and daylight.   He was happy simply to have lived through such a turbulent and terrifying display of nature.   He started to exit the crow's nest and climb down.   Suddenly, he was startled by another rustling sound near his right shoulder.   He felt something brushing his face, and he turned his head just as the bird clenched his drenched shirt.
    The parrot said, "Por Favor Señor Arthur."
     
    VII
    Two months is a long time to go without seeing land or women. Men in these conditions commit unspeakable acts against one another, and so the account of these acts will remain unspoken.   One time, Arthur thought he saw a man in the distance walking on the water, but he couldn't be sure.
              He named the Captain’s bird Mary .

 
    Chapter 6
     
              The view lying before the advancing dinghy that morning was foretelling of the coming night’s events and the fate of those souls rowing toward the shore. A dark and foreboding scene waited before them.   Some described the forsaken inlet as the Golgotha of the Whale because it had become the ungodly resting place for the strewn remains of countless hapless and unfortunate leviathan.  
    Arthur Alesworth, a crewman of The Elizabeth, cut the water hard with anticipation from his seat third back from the bow, as he cast his eye eagerly toward shore.   Arthur had embarked with The Elizabeth, one of the very few British whalers to set out from Philadelphia, to the reportedly bountiful coasts of New Zealand. The four-month journey during 1828 had taken its toll, even on this strong young man.  
              He yearned for land, and the fresh scent of this strange new world was just what he needed to revive.   What struck him first, though, was the sharp stench of the rotting sea giants that littered the beach. His heart plummeted into his churning stomach.   He looked around wildly, searching the beach for an open space that might be free of the carrion-clad bones of the offending beasts. His panic only increased as he found no relief from the hellish smell of boiling flesh and putrid oil.   His acute suffering was punctuated by the stinging crop of the First Mate, seated astern, who cried sharply, “Row harder, Harper, or swim with the sharks!”
              Arthur flinched on the gunwale while on the shore they flensed the whale.

 
Chapter 7
     
    May 30th, 1828.   Te Awaiti Bay, New Zealand’s first whaling station:
     
              Arthur had barely gotten his land legs back before he was called to attention for the work detail.   Standing in a line across the beach, arms stiffly held to his side and chin out, Arthur felt the resurgence of the nausea that he had fought with and conquered just outside of Philadelphia harbor .   Could there be such a thing as land sickness? He wondered.   The wild smell of charring whale flesh made it worse. His inspection did not seem fitting for the lurid tasks he saw being performed on the gargantuan fish lying about the beach before him.
    A large burly man with a bushy, black beard walked