As I eat some disappointing leftovers for dinner, I can take heart that it’s not whaleship fare.
Men wait in line for grub on a whaler, photographed by William H. Tripp. Via the New Bedford Whaling Museum.
Albert Peck, a foremast hand on the Covington in 1856 was so kind as to write down the weekly menu aboard:
“Our daily diet on board ship was as follows: On Mondays, rice for dinner, with beef and a little pork, a barrel of pork having to last as long as two of beef. Tuesday, boiled beans. Wednesdays, peas, and when these failed, rice. Thursdays, boiled flour pudding called Duff. Fridays, beans again. Saturdays, codfish and potatoes and Sundays, duff again. Breakfast, we had either potatoes and meat hashed up together, with coffee, or scouse, a mess made of ship bread soaked overnight and boiled up in the morning with beef cut up, and sliced potatoes. For supper, hard bread and beef with tea and plenty of molasses, each man being allowed a quart a week, which was amply sufficient if not wasted, and besides this we had extra messes such as a sea pie when a hog was killed, soft bread, pickles, +c.”
By way of variety, there wasn’t much to be found on a whaleship menu. Adding to the monotony the food was often in a very poor condition. William Abbe, greenhand on board the Atkins Adams in 1858, can always be relied upon in expanding on the condition of his meals in the most visceral way possible.
“Our duff this noon, heavy + watery was literally filled with dirt and cockroaches. I didn’t eat a morsel of the filthy food—but sat laughing at the discoveries the fellows made as they carefully sliced their duff— ‘Hullo, heres a piece of old Thompson’s [the cook] hat” cried Johnny — “Here’s a big worm! — Look at these cockroaches!” “I’ve bit a cockroach in two—“ “Let’s make Thompson eat em when he comes below,” came from different empty mouths, while all hands roared out as Curly, finding to his disgust he was munching a boiled cockroach dashed to the slop bucket + holding out his joggy duff cried — “Who wants my duff? Does you Tom?” + finding no purchasers flung his duff into the bucket.”
On multiple whaleships the cook drew the ire of all aboard for the condition of the food. Sometimes it was from a lack of care in the cleanliness and preparation of it, largely it was because it was almost impossible to keep vermin out of the kitchen on a whaleship no matter how clean, and at all times the cook’s orders were tied to what the captain supplied him.
J.T. Langdon of the ship St Peter, 1849, was aware of the limitations of the cook based entirely on how those aft managed food, and talked about it at bitter length.
“The “Old Man” had another rough turn with the steward this morning about grub. The [crossed out—bloody miserable] old crone seems to want us to live on nothing. Nearly the same as we have lived on for the past 30 odd months. When we first came out a number of bushels of turnips and a quantity of pumpkins were left to rot rather than give them to the men; and since we have been out here too, recruits of sweet potatoes have been left in the nettings to spoil rather than the men forward should have them to eat. Such men should have their teeth pulled out and fed on slops.”
Fresh fruits, vegetables, and cheeses were picked up at various ports that whaleships would occasionally stop in for provisions. It wasn’t uncommon for whaleships to also have livestock on board such as chickens or pigs who on many instances free-roamed on the deck, sticking their hungry snouts into the pans of men eating there. In the Galapagos, whalers picked up tortoises (and played a significant role in devastating that population, believed to have taken over 100,000 tortoises between the 1780s-1860s). Fish would sometimes be caught as well, such as skipjacks, albacore, and mahi mahi (which whalers referred to in their personal accounts as porpoises or dolphins), as well as actual porpoises or dolphins. However, fish were not considered a reliable food source to serve a whole crew and usually found themselves on the menu just because someone dropped a line down when they were bored and caught/harpooned one.
A whaler aboard the Sunbeam cutting in a porpoise for meat. Photographed by Clifford Ashely. Via NBWM.
J.E. Haviland, of the Baltic , 1857, shared a recipe for porpoise as prepared on his ship:
“We had it for Breakfast this morning. The way it is prepared at sea is to take + hash it up very fine seasoned with sage pepper + salt and then made in small balls + fried or baked in pork + I can say from experience it is proper good.”
But fresh provisions soon ran dry, and it was back to breaking out the dubious casks stored below.
“Found a few bbls of meat that smelled more like carrion than beef, and the “Old Man” told the cook to use that first. I think twill go down rather hard.”
J.T. Langdon wrote, adding to his anger about the condition of the food they had to eat. In the case of the St. Peter the crew refused to eat this spoiled beef, and organized as a collective body to tell the captain such.
“After supper this evening we all went aft to see about eating the beef that was broke out for us on Tuesday. He was not at all surprised at this although he appeared to pull the wool over our eyes we plainly stated to him our grievances and wants in a respectful manner, which made him rowse up a little telling us how he had lived on whale and blackfish meat for a time on the Nor’west; but this would not go down with us and we demanded state’s allowance. He saw we were in good earnest so after while concluded to give us good beef.”
There are a number of instances of shipmates banding together to pressure the captain to improve their fare. Sometimes, like above, that work was successful. Other times it was met with the wrath of the Captain and no change in the food.
Steward’s Pantry on the Charles W. Morgan.
In the after cabin, it was a rather different story as far as what was eaten. Mary Lawrence, whaling wife aboard ship Addison, 1859, wrote about food that was prepared when she was entertaining other whaling officers and their families during a gam on the ship:
“We had for dinner oyster soup, boiled ham, and stewed rabbit with dumplings, a gooseberry pudding and tarts made out of bottled fruits, for tea we had fried ham, fish balls, warm biscuit, preserves, pies, plum cake, and plain cake.”
Greenhand John Perkins, of the Tiger in 1845, voiced his envy after talking with the crew of the Sheffield, who during a gam shared what their fare was like (though to me it sounds more like they were pulling his leg). Perkins felt as though the lack of good food on his ship was in some way attributed to the captain having his wife Mary aboard the Tiger (in addition to being cheap).
“Their cook brings their scoff into the forecastle, carries back the kids & washes the pans. A hogshead of molasses is open for them, pepper, vinegar, & salt are free to them. Butter is also allowed them. They have chickens every Sunday, pancakes three times a week, scouse several times a week & potatoes & onions with limitation. The difference in our manner of living is not owing to the owners, for our ship is well fitted out as it respects provision. But our captain is a part owner & therefore wishes to spare all he can, but he also has his wife aboard & therefore wishes not to get out of potatoes, molasses, sugar, butter &c. He now denies us pork.”
Sometimes whaling wives were met with resentment for the above reasons, with the notion that they were an idle hand who was nevertheless eating better food than the men forward (though as time went on much of the cabin fare was quite similar to what the rest of the crew would have, albeit not laden with filth.) Women aboard would often make dishes of their own, such as pies and gingerbread, fruit preserves, candy, and popcorn. Sometimes it was made for themselves, husband, and other officers, but there are also instances of a number of wives making special dishes and condiments for men forward who were sick, for special occasions like holidays, or—such as in the case of William Abbe—for men who seemed to catch her fancy.
Wives sometimes found it difficult to cook on board, however. Mary Lawrence described some of her challenges, ranging from her daughter getting sad about slaughtered chickens, and not being able to access the galley for propriety’s sake.
“This afternoon we killed two hens; Cynthia and Coopie. It made Minnie feel very sad to have Cynthia killed. I must not allow her to name her chickens for her friends; it makes her feel so badly when they are killed. […] I made our chickens into a pie today. The officers said it seemed like home. It was not baked well; the crust was not done. I should have more courage to make knickknacks if I could attend to the baking of them, but of course it would not do for me to go into the galley.”
It wasn’t all SO bad. William Abbe and his friend Manuel Vieira made boozy lemon preserves to warm them when Cape Horn came around, and included his recipe:
“M + I cut up a pot full of lemons and put them down in white sugar that the “old woman” sent me by Johnny. We crushed the sugar in lemon juice — cut the lemons in thin slices after paring off the yellow rind, halved the slices laid them in layers with sugar til the pan was nearly full, then poured on more sugar then put in some spice from my pickled quince, then some brandy—about six tablespoonsful, then as much more aguardiente—then more sugar to the to the top—then covered the pot—my quince jelly pot—then bound the cover with lamp wicking + this with twine — then tarred this — + then covered all the top with tarred cotton cloth —and our preserves are done. We shall keep the pot for Cape Horn weather.”
He tried them later and “found them capital”.
J.E. Haviland also excitedly shared his own recipe of Vinegar, Molasses, and Bread as a notable treat:
“We have a dish for Lunch that we make + eat ourselves in our watches on deck nights which I am extremely fond of called Blash. I will give you the recipe. Take a pint cup 3/4 full of water mix sufficient molasses to make it agreeable to the taste, then put in a few drops of vinegar, then crumble in hard bread to be eatten with a spoon. I do not think for the past 19th months I have missed one dozen nights without partaking some part of a pot of Blash. I say it is propper good where we can get nothing better.”
It was also tradition on whaleships to fry up a celebratory batch of donuts in the whale oil for every 1000th barrel. Mary Brewser, of the Tiger described the occassion:
“At 7pm boats got fast to a whale. at 9 got him to the ship. Men all singing and bawling ‘Doughnuts Doughnuts tomorrow’ as this will certainly make us 1000 bbls and it is a custom among the whalemen a batch of doughnuts to every thousand.”
Another whaling wife Henrietta Deblois talked about spending the morning making four tubs of them (3 for the focsle, 1 for the officers) with the help of the cabin boy and steward. She said they were “right good” with “not the least taste of oil—they came out of the pots perfectly dry. The skimmer was so large that they would take out ½ of a peck at a time. I enjoyed it mightily.”
A whale oil skimmer. This was used to skim the crispy bits of skin or gristle or ‘cracklings’ out of the oil. This would retain the oil’s purity, and the cracklings would then be used to feed the fires of the tryworks. But also good for donuts!
There were also less celebratory instances where men would just like…toss their hardtack in there sometimes to fry it while they were working. Snack.
Switchel was another reward mixed up for men who successfully took a whale. It was a mix of vinegar, ginger, and molasses, thought to be a refreshing and fortifying beverage after a hard round of labor. In true Cooking Blog fashion, all this preamble will lead to my switchel recipe at the very end.
Ultimately, revolting as the food often was many found themselves growing accustomed to it, whether it was through necessity after nearly fainting one too many times of hunger from their initial inability to eat it, or because of the substantial appetite the hard labor of their job gave them regardless. It feels fitting to conclude with journalist John Ross Browne, in writing of his 4 year voyage on an unnamed whaler in 1842, about the perspective the food on board gave him.
“The life I had led since I had shipped produced such a change in me as made me a mere animal. When I got anything fit to eat, which was very rarely, I devoured it with the avidity of a starving wolf. I seldom dreamed of any thing at night but good Kentucky roast beef, peaches and cream, pumpkin pies, and all the luxuries of western life. […] I had seen the time when my fastidious taste revolted at a piece of good wholesome bread without butter, and many a time I had lost a meal by discovering a fly on my plate. I was now glad enough to get a hard biscuit and a piece of greasy pork; and it did not at all affect my appetite to see the mangled bodies of divers well-fed cockroaches in my molasses; indeed, I sometimes thought they gave it a rich flavor.”
Now, onto the switchel!
My favorite old-timey vinegar drink of sailors & laborers. You need ginger, apple cider vinegar, maple syrup, lemon, and water. You can use molasses instead of maple syrup if you wanna be a bit more Whaler-y…
Peel and slice fresh ginger. This is to taste, but I use 1/3rd of a cup.
Bring the ginger & 2 cups of water to a boil, remove from heat, and let cool 10-15 mins.
Mix 1/2 cup good apple cider vinegar and 1/2 cup maple syrup in a jar. I like dark maple syrup, but it’s whatever you want!
Add the ginger & boiled water to the vinegar-maple syrup mix.
Add the juice of half a lemon.
All done. Stick it in the fridge. It probably keeps for 3-5 days. I wouldn’t know—I drink it within 2 because it’s Tasty. I like mixing 1 part switchel to 1 part seltzer when I drink it, and get about 3 servings out of this that way. If you wanna make it boozy, put a splash of bourbon in there. Enjoy.