Eliza Williams: A Whale of a Tale

"South Sea Whale Fishery," 1835, Garnery, and E. Duncan. Lithographic print. Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales. Public Domain

Whaling in mid-19th century America was big business. The oil harvested for use in lamps from these leviathans was in great demand because it burned more cleanly and brightly, and for a longer period of time, than other oils. The baleen that grew in the top of a whale’s mouth, made from the same substance as human fingernails and through which whales siphon their food, was harvested and made into items like corsets and tools.

In 1857, more than 300 ships valued at $12 million dollars ($435 million today) and employing more than 10,000 men called New Bedford, Massachusetts, their home port. On board the whaling ship Florida, Eliza Williams wrote in her diary entry for Sept. 28, 1858, capturing the excitement when a crew spotted whales:

“After tea heard the cry from aloft of there blowes; then all was confution for a spell. The Men said there was a school of Sperm Whales not far off, and sure enough, in a few moments I could see them plain spouting all around; it looked queer to see them throw the white water up so high. Though it was near night, the Men lowered the boats, determined to take one or more. 4 boats were gone and I watched them through the glass to see what they would do. … One came along close by the Ship, so close it seemed to me that one could throw a stone and hit him. I had a fine view of him; I could almost see his whole length out of water. He looked dark in the water, but he did not give me much time to look at him, for he made off with himself as fast as he could, as if he was apprehensive of danger.”

A mother and baby sperm whale swim together near the water's surface. Sperm whales were highly prized for their spermaceti, a precious oil found only in the whale's head cavity. Gabriel Barathieu/CC BY-SA 2.0

The Captain’s First Mate

In an entry made three weeks earlier, just before departing New Bedford, this same Eliza wrote: “Now I am in the place that is to be my home, posibly for 3 or 4 years; but I can not make it appear to me so yet: it all seems so strange, so many Men and not one Woman beside myself; the little Cabin that is to be all my own is quite pretty; as well as I can wish, or expect on board of a Ship.”

Having left her two young children to the care of her parents, Eliza set off on what turned out to be a 38-month-long adventure at the behest of her husband, Capt. Thomas Williams. Childhood sweethearts, 6-footer Thomas and his wife cut a comical team physically, as Eliza, barely 5 feet tall and weighing less than 100 pounds, “could stand erect under her husband’s outstretched arm without touching it.” She accompanied Thomas because he missed her so badly during his long absences. The affection was mutual; Eliza once wrote to Thomas that he was her “only sincere friend in the world.”

While it wasn’t unusual for whaling captains’ wives to accompany their husbands on these voyages—Eliza mentioned seeing such a fellow traveler on a passing whaler—Eliza was nonetheless a bit of a rarity. For one, she was five months pregnant when she boarded the Florida. She bore a son, and before the voyage ended, she and William had added a daughter to the family as well.

Her diary also set her apart from the other wives who went to sea. Discovered by her grandson in a trunk 100 years later, Eliza’s account of her voyage paints an intimate picture of whaling just before the industry collapsed, falling victim first to fossil fuels and then to electricity.

An illustration depicting whales off the coast of the Pacific Northwest. Whaling in the 19th century slowly expanded to new territories as whales were depleted and grew more wary of humans.  Public Domain

Shipboard Life and Goodwill

Those of us who read Herman Melville’s “Moby Dick” while in school wondered why the author focused so much attention on the details of work on a whaling ship. Eliza’s  journal delivers at least a partial answer to that question. Life on a whaler was fascinating, both to those who observed it firsthand and to those on shore. The days were long and hard, particularly when whales were taken. The process by which they were rendered into oil, while gruesome and filthy, meant demanding work and attention to detail. Eliza recorded many of these activities in her diary.

From her we also learn of the camaraderie that existed in the whaling community. Numerous times, given good weather, the ships dropped sail when they encountered each other for a day of visits and an exchange of news. Stops ashore at various islands and ports broke the routine of searching for whales and sometimes brought unexpected gifts. After one such visit, Eliza wrote: “We have about one hundred Chickens running about the deck, that my Husband got from the Island yesterday.”

Not long afterward, the ship Arctic, commanded by Capt. Philips, spent a day alongside the Florida. Capt. Philips, she wrote, “brought us some papers from the Islands, some of them New Bedford papers, later news than any we have had since we left home. I had some nice oranges given me. He had his Wife and four Children with him the last voyage.”

Whaling was a messy, bloody business but it had great rewards if the harvests were plentiful. Outing Magazine.Public Domain

After the birth of her son, Eliza received gifts and kindnesses both from strangers and from the crew. Upon landing in New Zealand, just a few weeks after her son was born, the harbormaster’s wife “came every day and washed and dressed the Baby. She did everything she could for me till I was able to go to her house.”

Meanwhile, “The Men, when they went on shore, often brought me Fruit and Flowers, and the Captains of the Ships came on board to see me and brought me something nice. Captain Dehart of the ship Roman … brought me Oranges, Lemons, several kinds of Preserved Fruits, some Arrowroot, a nice Fan made on one of the Islands that he had stopped on, and a bottle of currant wine.”

A couple of months later, Eliza noted, “The Carpenter has been making a beautiful little chair for the Baby.”

The End of an Era

On Oct. 26, 1861, the Florida arrived in San Francisco with its cargo of oil. Since the Civil War had broken out that spring, and fearing that Confederate vessels might seize the Florida if he again put to sea, Capt. Williams sold his ship. He, Eliza, and the two children returned to New England by sea via the Isthmus of Panama route.

Although Williams lost one ship to Confederate raiders during the war, he himself emerged unscathed. The husband and wife made several shorter voyages, along with some of their children, after Confederate forces surrendered. In 1871, however, a catastrophe occurred which nearly ended their lives.

That year, an early winter trapped 33 whaling ships off the coast of Alaska. This icy lockdown threatened death from starvation. Consequently, the 1,200 people aboard these ships—including Thomas, Eliza, and two of their children—had to leave behind several million dollars’ worth of cargo and put out to sea in open boats. They traveled 80 miles in search of shelter safety. All survived, but this disaster sounded the death knell of commercial whaling.

"Abandonment of the Whalers In The Arctic Ocean Sept. 1871" by John Perry Newell. Capt. Williams and his family were lucky to survive. Public Domain

In a 2008 talk promoting his book “The Lost Fleet: A Yankee Whaler’s Struggle Against the Confederate Navy and Arctic Disaster,” journalist Marc Songini noted: “While Thomas would battle the ice flows once more and survive a second contest with the elements in 1876, during another Artic freeze-in, his health would never recover. He died in 1880 at 60. … A heartbroken Eliza moved back to their hometown of Wethersfield, where she died two years later.”

Eliza’s Quiet Courage

Readers of Eliza Williams’s diary may notice that she is often formal or reticent about sharing personal details or discontentment. She usually refers to Thomas as “My Husband” rather than by name. Though she complained of seasickness at times, whatever pain, travail, or even inconvenience she may have suffered during her pregnancies, labor, and delivery received no mention here. This reserve and stiff upper lip attitude in the face of adversity was typical of her region, her social class, and her time. Even when she mentions the hardships and annoyances of life aboard the Florida, she does so without giving way to complaints.

This stoic restraint surely accounts in no small part for her courage and perseverance in enduring and completing this long voyage.

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