Pelorus Jack

FEENEY

Copyright © 2016 David William Feeney.

Cover Image: Esson, Melvin Brown, 1874-1966. Pelorus Jack.

Ref: 1/2-003190-F. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand.

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ISBN: 978-1-4834-5265-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-5264-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-5266-1 (e)

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Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 06/12/2020

ALEXANDER TURNBULL LIBRARY, WELLINGTON, NZ

REF: A-052-002

ARMORIAL BEARINGS OF THE DOMINION OF NEW ZEALAND.

ALEXANDER TURNBULL LIBRARY, WELLINGTON, NZ

JOHN HAWKESWORTH, 1715?-1773. AN ACCOUNT OF THE VOYAGES

UNDERTAKEN FOR MAKING DISCOVERIES IN THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE

BY COMMODORE BYRON, CAPTAIN WALLIS, CAPTAIN CARTERET, AND

CAPTAIN COOK, IN THE DOLPHIN, THE SWALLOW, AND THE ENDEAVOR.

PREFACE

THE DOLPHINS AND US

ALEXANDER TURNBULL LIBRARY, WELLINGTON, NZ

SCHOOLTEACHER MRS. GOODSON WITH WILD DOLPHIN OPO.

F ROM MALAYSIA TO THE United States there are human-dolphin histories. A good number of records and time-honored reports cite cooperative fishing between the species; but, the greatest number of write-ups related to dolphins assisting us in life or death situations; particularly during the twentieth century. I found plenty of interesting narratives prior to the twentieth century; almost all of them, however, unconfirmed. The sheer number, though, of the twentieth century chronicles and the similarities in detail of their magnificence lend credence to the oral tradition recitals’ likelihood of being true. I would like to share one interesting documented recounting because of its unique ending. It occurred somewhere in the Pacific, World War II:__

They named it the Pacific Ocean because that’s what it is, as a small group of American navy men found out when the Japanese sank their ship, and they, the lucky ones, ended up in a life raft floating on a dead calm sea. As one day passed to the next and food and fresh water dwindled to nothing and there was nothing in sight, the men despaired more and more regarding their fates. They knew that many a mariner had set sail on the Pacific only to never be seen or heard of again. Shortly before the start of the war, American aviatrix Amelia Earhart went missing over the Pacific and, despite a massive search effort, not a trace of her, her navigator, or her plane was ever found. Then, the unbelievable occurred; some of the men calling it a miracle or, at the very least, the Almighty’s answer to their prayers: A pod of dolphins happened along and began pushing the raft. The men were amazed at how efficiently they worked as a team and directed the bulky air mattress of men. And soon there were hurrahs from the sailors when they sighted the island. Then, one farsighted man was overcome with fear and shouted an alarm, and the maroons promptly began shooing the dolphins away from the raft. The farsighted sailor had spotted a flagpole on the island. The flag on the pole unfurled a rising sun. The dolphins were pushing the American servicemen to a Japanese held island!

Much of what you are going to read is true. George Webber, Tim Donne, Reverend Bates, Charlie Moeller, Charlie Moeller’s dog, George Allpart, Governor Lord Plunkett, the Brindle, the Penguin, the Penguin’s steward, the Norwegian whalers, and references to Mark Twain and Theodore Roosevelt, as well as the articles published in the Christchurch Weekly and the Marlboro Express newspapers, were all either real people or involved in a true incident or encounter with Pelorus Jack.

Prominent people from all around the globe traveled to New Zealand to see Pelorus Jack: President Theodore Roosevelt, Mark Twain, at least two popes, and many kings and queens among them. The world-renowned dolphin had two songs written and a candy bar produced in his honor and was prominently featured on post cards and other memorabilia.

Sadly, a bounty was placed on Jack’s head by European museums and private collectors; and the Norwegian whalers hunted him relentlessly.

But the nation of New Zealand responded, and became …the first nation in history to pass an Act of Parliament to protect a fish. It was not an easy task, however, as there were individuals opposed to the protection of certain animal species. In the end, it came down to a dedicated small group of individuals with very large hearts who persisted and won a right to life for a very special creature.

Some of the finer details are also true: The shooting from the Penguin, Pelorus Jack’s disappearance, the dolphin carcass washed ashore, Pelorus Jack’s return, Pelorus Jack’s avoidance of the Penguin and newspaper commentaries regarding that fact, the steward’s premonition and request for transfer, the sinking of the Penguin, the established need for a species identifying photograph, Bates inadvertently finding a photo at the weather station in Runanga, and the encounter and report by Scott’s Antarctic Expedition – all true. There is also verbatim transcript included in this book.

There are a few facts especially pleasing to me, personally: S.S. Brindle, the first ship to use Pelorus Jack’s services and make an official report of it, hailed from Boston, Massachusetts; the first person to suggest passing a law to protect Pelorus Jack was a writer from Boston; I first read about Pelorus Jack in a Boston newspaper; the Boston Public Library Archives in the Central Library, Copley Square, was of enormous value to me; I am from Boston.

Hats off to those good-hearted citizens of New Zealand; who, long before it became fashionable, fought with dogged determination and unwavering resolve to protect one animal – Pelorus Jack!

Song of Pelorus Jack (ca. 1920’s):

A famous fish there used to be, called Pelorus Jack

He’d always swim far out to sea, when a ship came back

About her bow he’d dive and play, And keep with her right to

the bay

And all on board would cheer and say:-There’s Pelorus Jack

Pelorus, Pelorus, good Pelorus Jack

Pelorus, Pelorus, brave Pelorus Jack

Everyone cheered whenever he appeared

Pelorus, Pelorus, good Pelorus Jack

For years he’d meet the ships like this, good Pelorus Jack

It seemed as though he’d never miss, any vessel’s track

He surely was a jolly sort, and everybody as they ought

Declared he was a real old sport; Good Pelorus Jack

One day a ship came home again, poor Pelorus Jack

The people looked, but looked in vain, for his shining back

And now as day goes after day, the folks all sigh in mournful

way

Old Jack is gone they sadly say; Poor Pelorus Jack

To Mom: Mother, protector, O wonderful friend; how I long for your voice and to hold me again.

CHAPTER ONE

ALEXANDER TURNBULL LIBRARY, WELLINGTON, NZ

REF: B-052-004

TASMAN BAY, NEW ZEALAND, 1886

F IRST MATE DONALD GRAYSON jaunted up the ladder from the main deck and faced his captain: Squall line fast off the port side, Captain Schiggs. Schiggs pivoted and took quick notice of a line of dark billowing clouds. A gust of wind rapped the two men. Turn about, Sir? asked Grayson.

The holds? inquired the captain.

’bout half, returned the first mate.

All right, Grayson. It’s probably just a squirt; but, better to call it now than risk losing what we have.

Grayson descended the ladder to the main deck, deliberated a few words to the crew, then regarded the helmsman, perched at the wheel and awaiting the first mate’s orders, and said, Helmsman; when the boom is secure, tack to port!

Aye Aye, replied the steady wheel man.

The crew began hauling in the last catch. Grayson observed that the left side of the large net sagged, and he hollered to the men on that side: Heave to, you men. Heave to, I say!

Look at ‘em, Bianco, said crewman Eddie Cooney.

Which one, asked Bianco.

Both of ‘em, answered Cooney, with their visored caps and them spiffy marine waist jackets. Not a muscle between ‘em; yet, they dress a good game. I’d love to see those two down here getting their lily hands roughed up.

They wouldn’t last five minutes, said Bianco. Londoners; who needs ‘em!

True enough, regarding Grayson. The son of a wealthy merchant, he had had the best of upbringing and more than adequate opportunities to make something respectable of himself. Yet, he chose to live in the bottle rather than the mansion; and, at an early age, developed a penchant for criminal activities that involved no heavy lifting. In due time, he got nabbed stealing jewelry and money from venerable lodgers at a London boarding house where he worked as a general clerk and floor manager. As punishment for the crime, he received a two-year commission in His Majesty’s Service – the Royal Navy. This new found profession seemed to suit him well, and he continued on in merchant shipping when his military stint ended; eventually landing a first mate’s position on board Schiggs’ vessel, Celeste, a tri-masted fishing schooner.

Schiggs, on the other hand, came up the hard and rope burned way. Shortly prior to his fifteenth birthday, his mother died of some unknown respiratory disease, and his father left the following day never to return; thereby abandoning his four children. Schiggs’ two elder brothers attempted as best they could to hold the family together, but, without good paying jobs and no means to pay the rent, first, one left in the middle of the night, and the other failed to return home two days after that; essentially leaving Alvin in charge of his only other sibling, six-year old Victoria. Schiggs found an aunt living in Gatwick, his mother’s sister Evelyn, who took in Victoria but refused to give him quarters, claiming that he had never won her favor in all of the years that she knew him and that, for sure, his destiny would be that of the vagabond. He spent months drifting from one lackey job to the next until finally obtaining a position as a sea dog drudge on a merchant vessel with a derelict captain who often bloodied the noses of his crew for the least of infractions. Alvin worked his way around the horn and all the way up to San Francisco, where, after a night of drinking, he got Shanghai’d aboard a clipper ship in the China trade. Six months on, Schiggs looked at that as good fortune. Surrounded by similar fellows, he flourished; and, in no time, rose to the rank of first mate. When the captain mysteriously fell overboard in the middle of the Pacific, it was Schiggs who took command and masterfully piloted the ship to port with all of its goods intact. That, of course, earned him patronage with the owners of the shipping company, and they offered him his own captaincy. Schiggs spent close to seventeen years sailing back-and-forth across the Pacific for that company, pinching his money with a mind bent on stewardship of a vessel all his own. Ever the one on the lookout for favorable moments to supplement his income, legally or illegally, Al Schiggs moved from port to more favorable port pursuing that objective. In time, he ended up in the Australian Territories, where he thrived in the pearl trade; albeit by exploitation of indigenous skin divers and frequent breaches of the law. It was one too many of those latter indiscretions that sent him hightailing it to New Zealand. Now, at forty-seven years of age, Schiggs owns Celeste and a small sloop named Nanny. He’s quite comfortable – but he wants more.

The crew hauled in the last catch, and Grayson moved quickly up the ladder to the quarterdeck and Schiggs: All secure, Captain.

Weigh anchor, ordered Schiggs. As he turned towards his cabin, Schiggs’ attention abruptly shifted to the west horizon, and he turned back and said Belay my last, to Grayson.

Sir? arched the first mate.

Prepare to cast the heavy nets! ordered the captain. Grayson stood voiceless and motionless, puzzled. You know what that is? asked Schiggs, pointing.

Grayson screwed his eyes westward and said, You mean the porpoises?

How old are ye’, Grayson?

Twenty seven.

"When you’re a skipper someday, tell ‘em ya’ learned this one from an ol’ cap named Schiggs: When you see that many dolphin movin’ like that, for sure, there’s a school o’ tuna runnin’ ‘neath