The Decanter — Moby-Dick

Before the Samuel Enderby fades, Ishmael records Enderby and Sons of London, house nearly as historically interesting as Tudors and Bourbons: seventeen seventy-five first regular English sperm whalers while Nantucket Coffins and Maceys harpooned since seventeen twenty-six only in Atlantic waters, half a century alone with civilized steel; seventeen seventy-eight Amelia at Enderby charge rounds Cape Horn into Pacific grounds, Rattler discovery sloop and eighteen nineteen Syren tasting Japan under Captain Coffin opening the Japanese fishery.

Long after Ahab's ivory heel touched her planks Ishmael gamed off Patagonia at midnight flip ten gallons the hour until squalls reefed topsails with visitors swung aloft in bowlines, jacket skirts furled into sails, sober descent through salt-pickled scuttle spray, bull-beef, indestructible dumplings, anti-scorbutic bread in dark corners, capital fellows boot to hat-band, Saxon hospitality minding why English whalers feast where merchantmen scrimp.

Hollanders and Danes bequeathed fat old fashions; Dutch Dan Coopman translated by Dr Snodhead lists one hundred eighty sail provisioned with beef, pork, stockfish, biscuit, butter, Texel cheese, Geneva and beer barrels Ishmael digested three Platonic days, two barrels beer per man per Greenland summer cruise, gin harpooneers hitting whales nonetheless, equatorial beer warned against sleep, English whalers inheriting the cheer because empty holds deserve at least a good dinner, and that empties the decanter.