This is the Log of the Whaleship Marion, out of New Bedford, Massachusetts, Messrs. Peleg
&Bildad, owners.
Uriah King, Capt.

Sept. 19  1841. Three months out from New Bedford, off the nether coast of Chile. Ship
damaged sailing around the Horn. Lost mizzen, much canvas, stove in gunwales. Decided to
anchor in small bay on the West side of the passage. We have hauled her up and careened
her, scraped her bottom, mended sails and replaced timber. Billy found freshwater stream
and we filled our casks and washed our garments. There was some Fruit of a sort we had not
eaten before and found it toothsome. Increase shot us some wild birds.
We are some and pickled the rest.
Sept. 20 1841. The sea was rough overnight, the tide rushing up to our makeshift tents. We
quickly moved them farther inland atop a small bluff. Although windy, we are out of the
surf. Repairs proceeding apace. Asher spotted a mass lying onshore, close by the Marion.
Asher and Laban thought it a sea serpent, but old Sawbones declared it to be the Remains of
a large Kraken. One arm of the beast was ten fathoms long. The stench was bad and we gave
it a wide berth. Slept badly despite a fine supper of roasted cavies, which Billy had found in
the hills. Dreamt of strange city in the sea with towers never quite perpendicular and
buildings with no doors.
Sept. 21 1841. Sawbones and Boaz had similar dreams, for which Sawbones faulted the
cavies. The Marion was floated at high tide and hauled out into the bay, where we dropped
anchor in twenty fathoms into the sandy bottom.
The Kraken is covered with seabirds today and will be gone by this evening, I have no
doubt, voracious beasts that they are!
Sept. 22  1841. No-one was interrupted in his sleep last night, so we sailed with the tide in
our quest for Leviathan. We are bound for the Southern Ground now and will fill our casks
in a fortnight. Good sailing today, fresh wind, seas smooth. Midnight. Roused by call from
masthead. Around us the seas teemed with whales. By first light we had landed four of them.
Sept. 23 1841. Try pots worked all night, and we are still rendering whales. There are still
others within view, seeming unaware of the fate of their companions. This day we hauled in
three more whales before we hove to for the night, as the glass dropped sharply and the
seas began to boil like the try pots. All around us the seas were of a strange luminescence,
like phosphor, churning and raging in the grip of the strange tempest. St. Elmo’s Fire lit up
our rigging and it appeared as though the seas opened before us, and we stared into the
gaping Abyss. All around us we saw the whales cavorting and frisking as if suffused by a sort
of madness. Then something arose from the Abyss, a lone stark spire the color of basalt . It
remained still for several moments as the seas closed up again. The spire was overgrown
with those creatures that live on the ocean’s floor, odd anemones and urchins, sea hares
and slugs. Eels hid themselves in its crevasses, for the spire was weathered and pitted. St.
Elmo’s Fire now played about the spire, and the whales began to converge upon it with great
speed. As one they rammed their massive heads against the spire, which burst apart with a
hideous odor. The pieces quickly sank to the depths and in their place we saw a monstrous
Tentacle that waved blindly in search of prey. It grappled one of the largest whales, which
thrashed and opened its great jaws to grasp the Kraken. In a moment it had hold of the
tentacle and drew the body of the creature out of the depths, a horrible seething tangle of
tentacles, an enormous mantle and one huge glowing eye visible. Both creatures sounded,
the wind rose up, and we had all we could do to handle the Marion.
Sept. 30, 1841. I believe we have all recovered from that terrifying vision, although in the
turmoil we lost Increase overboard and could not recover him. Some of us still have
unsettling dreams but most of us are able to sleep. Our various cuts and contusions have
healed and we are strong again, except for Billy, who is feared of closing his eyes and is only
quieted by Sawbones’ draughts of Laudenum. Sometimes Billy awakens crying, The head!  
The awful head! And it looked at me, with its yellow eyes! O, God have Mercy upon me, for
I have seen Evil itself, and I cannot bear the torment!
Then Sawbones will dose him again, and Billy will drop asleep again for a while.
We have seen no whales for several days now, but hope to see them soon near the Friendly
Isles.
Oct. 10 1841. Billy has died today. He awoke in a Fit which Sawbones could not calm, seized
a Marlinspike and drove it into his own belly. It was over quickly as the blood flowed
everywhere and Sawbones could not stem it.
All hands cried as Billy was lowered into the seas, for he was a jolly lad, willing and earnest.
I read the Psalm and the Lord’s Prayer.
Oct. 11 1841. We sighted whales today.
Log of the
Whaleship Marion