The Loss of the Ship Essex, Sunk by a Whale

by Thomas Nickerson

Brand New Deliver In 6-18 Working Days

256 pages, Paperback

Published January 1, 2000

Reviews

[EuGrace · Rating 4 out of 5]

Avast, ‘tis yet another unnecessarily long and elephantine review from me on a book that nobody but mariner historically-inclined New Englanders have heard about.

Two years ago, I went to the Peabody Essex Museum’s Draw Me Ishmael: The Book Arts of Moby Dick exhibition in Salem even though I hadn’t read Moby Dick in full. DMI was the first exhibition that focused on the book’s many arts and editions since 1851. This spiel is from their website:

“The illustrations, binding designs, typography and even the physical structures. Drawn almost entirely from the Phillips Library collection, this intimate gallery space in the James Duncan Phillips Trust gallery explores decades of creative approaches to interpreting the novel visually in book form. It will shed some light on Melville’s original inspiration and include a contemporary update through recent artists’ books, graphic novels, a translation into emoji and pop-up books. Think untraditionally and independently about Moby Dick, appreciate the variety of approaches to visualizing the novel and explore copies of more than 50 books on display.”

Visiting the exhibit was the highlight of my trip to Massachusetts (well, aside from when I also got to visit the Louisa May Alcott Orchard House estate in Concord). I knew MD was inspired by a real tragedy, but the museum really capitalized on the history, so I really couldn’t resist finding out more. The museum gift shop was selling copies of Melville’s book, as well as In the Heart of the Sea by Nathaniel Philbrick and The Loss of the Ship Essex, Sunk by a Whale. I already knew I wanted to try and read MD in the summer of 2026, but I tend to go overboard when doing supplementary research for classic books. It’s fair to say I had a very ardent fascination with The Essex -- so much so that, at this point, I’ve read more about it than Melville’s actual text (but that will come in time).

Between the two additional books being marketed, I chose this one because I was curious to read the first-hand accounts of survivors like Owen Chase and Thomas Nickerson. While reading it, I resisted the urge to also read Philbrick’s book, but I couldn’t help catching snippets of it as I scoured the internet for more Essex-related trivia. Philbrick says,

"In Moby Dick, Ishmael tells of seeing the skeleton of a sperm whale assembled in a grove of palm trees on a South Pacific island. ‘How vain and foolish," [h]e says, "for timid untraveled man to try to comprehend aright this wondrous whale, by merely poring over his dead attenuated skeleton . . . Only in the heart of quickest perils; only when within the eddyings of his angry flukes; only on the profound unbounded sea can the fully invested whale be truly and livingly found out.’ . . . But, as the survivors of the Essex came to know, once the end has been reached and all hope, passion, and force of will have been expended, the bones may be all that are left.”

I thought this epithet was quite cheeky, so I’m including it here, though I haven’t read the full book. (I most probably will eventually, but I watched the 2015 movie directed by Ron Howard and starring Thor, Spiderman, Menelaus, and Oppenheimer instead lol).

This isn’t a movie review (Lord help me if I ever decide to seriously do movie reviews), but I found the film fun. When Moby showed up, I was ecstatic. (“It’s him! My biggest guy! Best boy out to kill imperial capitalists!”) I liked the movie’s portrayal of the whale's behavior, and, even though I usually don’t like it when animals are given “monstrous” characteristics like being vengeful or full of hate, I appreciate how Howard’s whale was clearly a biological creature aggravated by human assault, hence it was defending itself, not this evil behemoth fueled by spite. Even though the whale only shows up for about 10 minutes total in the movie, it made a great impression.

In ITHOTO, Moby is not only the mightiest in his pod, but he’s also seen what whalers do to his kind. Yet, as evidenced by the many scars and injuries he sustained on his massive body, he knows that he's stronger than them. When he first “attacks” Essex, he tries to ward the sailors off by first capsizing one of their boats, but then they make things personal and harpoon a female sperm whale and endanger her calf. This is the moment where Moby snaps, and it doesn’t feel like cheap demonizing anthropomorphization; his rage as a wronged creature is actually palpable. He demonstrates a vast intelligence and insane strength when he cripples the Essex with a ramming charge, then holds back and starts splashing and thrashing around. To anyone who understands animals, this is clearly an aggressive threat display; an attempt at intimidation rooted in his protective and survival instincts. Moby’s basically giving the whalers a fair warning to leave now, because this is not a fight they can win. The oblivious, overconfident crew, as one of them even states, has never seen a whale do that -- because they've never considered whales as old, experienced, and brutally powerful; they were just prey. Hence, the stupid humans don’t heed Moby’s caution, so he charges the ship again and they harpoon him in the temple, causing searing pain.

I really love how the film illustrated just how pissed off and fed up Moby was; there were amazing close-up shots that showed his body charging up for the deathblow, as well as a shot of his eye -- totally inhuman, but still of this world, and perhaps even closer to God’s rage than anything else. For the final blow, Moby uses the seamen’s own weapons against them and tears the ship apart using the harpoon line, demonstrating once again that he is stronger and the better hunter. Even so, the humans are prideful and unwilling to relent, so he hunts them to ensure they won't threaten his pod again -- which is a very melodramatic cinematic touch that’s definitely a nod to Melville, but I don’t really care, it was vindicating to see the whale essentially stalking these miserable ass men across the sea. Howard did a good job portraying an animal in distress without ascribing petty human morals or intellectualization unto it. Honestly though, ITHOTO wasn’t the best film -- there were a lot of artistic liberties that gave the movie a more unserious, exaggerated tone rather than provided more nuance to Howard’s themes -- but, nevertheless, I enjoyed it.

But before I had watched the movie, I had read this book. As I said, I was curious to read first-hand accounts of the Essex disaster and was lucky enough to have found my copy for $4 at a second-hand bookstore in Boston. The main narrative, and the one Melville got his hands on, is that of first mate Owen Chase. I liked his account best since it initially reads as a swashbuckling adventure story that all too quickly descends into a living hell. His prose, while definitely ghost-written and redundant, was gripping, so I made my way through his narrative quite quickly.

Nickerson's version, however, I found less appealing. It definitely gives more details about the events leading up to the wreck, but it doesn't add too much to Chase's account of their months drifting aimlessly at sea (besides letting us know how the three sailors left on the island were rescued, which Chase didn't detail). Nickerson does go into greater length about the pre-ramming part of the trip, which is a little fun -- he was the youngest crew member, so he's mostly interested in relating awesome stories about pirates and how dazzled he was at the prospect of adventure -- but once the ramming happens, he basically just reiterates everything Chase says, but with more suspiciously flowery language and insistence of his account being “fact,” not a “story.” Nickerson definitely provided more information and extra details, but he tried so hard to present himself as telling the truth that you can’t help but wonder what he was trying to hide. It’s already known that survivors’ accounts aren’t all that reliable -- especially when foul play like mutiny, murder, or cannibalism are involved -- but Nickerson kind of damned himself by never admitting he ate anybody. At least Chase was clear about the cannibalism, albeit in a dismissive, avoidant, and traumatized way.

“Desultory Sketches” ironically convinced me that, yeah, these fuckers aren't telling the whole truth because what do you mean all the black people (except one) died, but trust me bro they consented to be eaten. (Sure, I’ll believe that). There was also a part where Nickerson claims to "not much relish" the "den of infamy and vice" that his fellow crewmen were indulging in when they arrived at the Bay of Concepcion's town of Talachuano. (Yeah right, you're a teenage boy who’s been at sea for weeks amongst stinky, brittle men who may be agreeable but they’re certainly not your friends; of course you're horny and lonely for sexy times ya liar).

This book also contains some notes by Melville, as well as some random other letters and bits that are nowhere near as interesting as one might think they would be, but I liked looking through them anyway. Penguin Classics collects multiple primary and secondary accounts of the Essex, which everyone seems to agree is almost certainly more than you need, but I personally had a whale of a time reading through every account and snippet. I admit, as a companion to read MD, though, it's not as essential as the PEM made me believe. The description of the actual encounter with the whale has clear connections to the novel, but you don’t need to read these accounts or Philbrick’s research to dive into Melville’s classic.

That being said, it was still extremely funny to compare Ishmael’s narrative with “what actually happened.” Some things are just too bizarre for fiction to encapsulate, like the eight random ass skeletons those three men who stayed behind on the island just so happened to find sitting side by side in a cave. There seems to be no explanation as to how they got there, which lends an eerily bad taste to the whole thing since it’s never explained how they got there or who they were (at least as far as I can tell). Yes, this sort of macabre discovery must’ve been normal back then for stranded sailors, but if I had stumbled across eight skeletons sitting up side by side together in a cave on an uninhabited island, I’d be pretty spooked and just resign myself to death. (You’re not getting an epic, inspiring survival story out of me, folks).

Another detail I found interesting was how, after the whale sank Essex, there was an “unknown fish” and sharks that harassed the survivors who were basically being buoyed across the endless ocean -- rubber ducky in a bubble bathtub style -- with little to no control of where they were going. The men tried to catch the fish with their harpoons, but the fuckers dodged their attacks hilariously. There were also “a shoal of dolphins” (or porpoises, as the added note explains) who escaped the crew’s attempts to take them as food, meanwhile “they took not the least notice of [us], but continued playing around us all day, mocking both our miseries and our efforts.” (Dolphin bullies! How charming!) Of them, Nickerson writes, “Poor devils, how much they are now our superiors and yet not to know it.” I read that and scoffed because it’s such a dramatic, anthropocentric statement to make. (There’s no such thing as ego in the animal kingdom, dude. There’s just the food chain, predator and prey, and the need to survive. Animals don’t have any concept of superiority over their fellow creatures. Get over yourselves!) In fact, when I read that part in Nickerson’s account, I wrote in my annotations, “There must have at least been a God back then because those poor fuckers kept taking the piss consistently like it’s downright comical how ass their luck was and it just kept getting worse.”

In particular, it was insane that Captain Pollard was my age when the ship sank. The excerpts that gave brief character sketches of him were the most interesting to me. I’m biased, but he really had a shitass time. I even felt sorry for him when he recounted having to tell his sister, Owen Coffin’s mother, about the fate of her son and “she became almost frantic with the thought, and . . . she never could become reconciled to the capt’s presence.” Imagine having to kill your own nephew and then be tasked with delivering the message to his mother, who ends up hating you forever because of it, hence you lost two family members because of one job that not only went horribly, but destroyed your sanity. And, to top it all off, Pollard went on to captain another boat that also fucking sank, and that’s what ruined his career. Genuinely a haunted, unlucky man. But you can’t say he didn’t deserve it a little.

If you couldn’t already tell, I highkey don’t feel bad for the men who went through this nightmare -- the same way I don’t give a shit about Ahab’s angst -- because they brought it on themselves. Sure, these were real people who truly suffered, but, just like in MD, I am firmly on the side of the whale. Aside from the fact that Nickerson was just a little boy and Pollard, who genuinely was cursed as hell, the entire narrative felt like one huge overdue confession. People back then (i.e. men) really didn’t give a single shit about conservation, sustainability, or basic compassion for wildlife. They were like, “Oh yeah let’s just take THREE HUNDRED TURTLES off their natural habitat so we could eat and mildly abuse them on our 2-year-long whale-killing voyage. We didn’t feed or take care of them in any capacity; they were just roaming around the ship and, when we felt like it, we killed and kicked them for sport HAHA masculinity rocks oh also today we killed an entire pod of sperm whales hahahah we’re gonna be so rich.” Those turtles they took all drowned and died in the wreck, by the way, so they’re solely responsible for committing an entire rare species to extinction:

“There can be no estimate of the destruction caused by this fire to the animal creation. On my return to this place many years afterwards the ruin was still visible, wherever the fire raged. Neither trees, shrubbery, nor grass have since appeard, and judging from the extent of desolate ground, there must have been thousands upon thousands of terrapin, birds, lizards, and snakes destroyed and it probably burned until the rainy season again set in.”

No remorse whatsoever. Ugh.

Even years after the fact, they didn’t care or reflect on their cruelty. I got to the part where they torched the Galapagos island and took all the turtles for fucksies and I kept thinking, “You sick bastards will pay for this . . . Moby’s gonna getcha . . . Just you wait.” The entire event was the very definition of fuck around and find out. Unsurprisingly, this all happened in Nantucket, and they understandably milk it for all its worth.

The Essex wreck itself is legendary, but it isn't until the narratives are collected in one place that the scope of the horrors endured by the survivors really comes to light, but do I give a shit? No! Moby Dick did nothing wrong! Sink their asses, babe!