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    Moby Dick: Level 5
    Moby Dick: Level 5
    Moby Dick: Level 5
    Ebook112 pages1 hour

    Moby Dick: Level 5

    By Herman Melville

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    About this ebook

    Captain Ahab has an unwavering obsession with destroying thegreat white whale, Moby Dick. Can Captain Ahab and his menfind Moby Dick?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCompass Publishing
    Release dateFeb 24, 2009
    ISBN9781599662954

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      Book preview

      Moby Dick - Herman Melville

      Ishmael Stays at the Spouter Inn

      Almost all men dream of going to sea at some time or another. On the island of Manhattan, where all the streets lead to the sea, you will notice the crowds of men who gather there to look at the sea. Water is like a magnet, whether it is the sea, or a lake, or a river, and men have always been drawn to it.

      Call me Ishmael. A few years ago—it doesn’t matter exactly when—I had no money and nothing to interest me on shore, so I decided to go to sea. I find it’s a good way to make yourself feel better about the world.

      I never go to sea as a passenger because that costs money, and besides, passengers don’t seem to enjoy themselves. I never go to sea as a captain, either. You see, I’m not much good at looking after myself, much less a whole ship.

      When I go to sea, it is always as a simple sailor. The captain might order you to sweep the decks or do other unpleasant jobs. But everybody has to do things they don’t like, so that doesn’t bother me. Also, sailors get paid, while passengers don’t. In fact, they have to pay, and nobody likes paying.

      However, I’m not sure why, at this time, I decided to go on a whaling ship. Perhaps it was the whales themselves that drew me to them. Perhaps it was the thought of going to wild, unknown, and dangerous seas. But whatever the reason, that’s the decision I made.

      I put a couple of shirts into my old bag and went to New Bedford. I arrived on Saturday night and had to wait until Monday for the schooner to Nantucket. I know that lots of whaling ships sail from New Bedford, but I had decided to board in Nantucket because this was the first home of American whaling.

      I needed a place to eat and sleep. It was a cold, dark night, and I didn’t know anybody in New Bedford. Nor did I have much money. I walked down the streets, looking at the inns, but they all seemed too expensive.

      I went down to the poorer parts of town. At last, I came to the Spouter Inn, owned by Peter Coffin. It looked cheap, and although I didn’t like the name much, I scraped the ice from my old boots and went in.

      I entered a wide, low entrance hall that was dark and smoky, like the inside of an old ship. On one wall, there was a dark oil painting. It was difficult to see what the painting was about, but finally, I saw that it was a ship being attacked by a huge whale in a storm. On another wall hung a large number of clubs and spears, some of which were broken, and all of which were frightening to see.

      I went through a low archway into the public room, which was even darker and smokier than the entrance hall. I saw a long table on one side and a bar in the shape of a whale’s head. In the bar, there were shelves of dirty and cracked glasses and a little old man who sold drinks to the sailors. I asked for the landlord and told him I wanted a bed for two nights.

      The house is full, he said, "but you can share a bed with a harpooner if you like."

      I didn’t like the idea much, but I didn’t want to go out into the cold night again, so I agreed.

      I’ll get you some supper, he said.

      The dining room was as cold as Iceland, and I asked for a fire, but the landlord told me he couldn’t afford a fire.

      Four or five of us sat down to eat, and I asked the landlord if the harpooner was there.

      He’ll be here soon, was the reply.

      After supper, the crew of a ship that had just returned from a long whaling voyage came to drink at the bar. They were a wild-looking bunch in ragged clothes and had ice in their long beards. One of the men was over six feet tall and had a huge chest. His face was brown, his teeth were white, and there were dark shadows in his eyes. His name, I discovered, was Bulkington, and I mention him now because one day he would become my shipmate.

      The sailors left, but the harpooner had still not arrived. I began to change my mind about sharing a blanket with him. People like to be private when they sleep. Besides, it was late, and I needed to sleep, but I didn’t want to go to bed before I had seen the harpooner.

      Landlord, I’ve changed my mind! I’ll sleep on the bench at the table.

      It’s a bit rough, grinned the landlord, and he fetched a sharp tool and tried to make it smoother, but I told him to stop. The bench was a foot too short, so I put a chair at the end. It was also a foot too narrow. The other bench in the room was four inches higher than mine, so it was no use to put the two benches next to each other. I put my bench against a wall, leaving a space for my back to go into, but that made me very cold. By now, it was almost midnight, and I couldn’t sleep.

      I called out to the landlord. What kind of a man is this harpooner? Is he always this late?

      The landlord grinned. He’s usually early, but tonight he went out to sell his head, so perhaps he can’t find a buyer. I told him it would be difficult! It’s broken, and there are already too many heads in this town!

      Stop talking nonsense and tell me about the harpooner! I demanded. I don’t want to share a bed with a madman!

      Calm down, replied the landlord. The harpooner has just arrived from the South Seas and had a lot of New Zealand heads. People are interested in them, and he has sold them all except one. He has to sell it tonight because tomorrow is Sunday, and good people go to church then.

      He sounds like a dangerous man.

      He always pays on time. Look, it’s late, and the bed is very big, so there’s plenty of room. Come up and see it.

      He lit a candle and led the way upstairs to a small room with a huge bed, which I thought was big enough for four people.

      Make yourself comfortable, said the landlord, and disappeared.

      A Strange Night with a Strange Man

      I was alone in the cold, dark room. What should I do? I looked around the room. There was the bed, a chest that was used as a table, a shelf, and a washstand. There was a large bag in a corner, which I supposed held the harpooner’s clothes. There were bone fishhooks on the shelf and a harpoon stood in a corner. On the chest lay a heavy mat with a hole in it like a poncho.

      I sat on the bed and wondered about the strange harpooner with his heads for sale and his mat poncho. I wasn’t

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