The Mast-Head — Moby-Dick

In pleasant weather Ishmael's first turn at the mast-head arrives. On American whale ships, lookouts stand watch from the day the ship leaves port until the very end of the voyage. Even near home, if the hold is still empty, the mast-heads stay manned.

Ishmael says standing lookout is an old human job. He traces it from Egyptian pyramid climbers watching the stars, to Saint Stylites dying on his stone pillar, to stone statues like Napoleon and Washington that cannot answer sailors below.

On a whale ship, three mast-heads are manned from sunrise to sunset. Sailors take turns every two hours. In the tropics the perch can feel dreamy and peaceful. You stand high above the deck while the sea rolls below.

But the perch is not comfortable. Ishmael stands on thin cross-trees with little shelter. Greenland whalers have little tents called crow's nests. Captain Sleet describes his cozy nest with compass, seat, and even a hidden bottle of liquor.

Southern whalers lack that shelter, but they have calmer seas. Ishmael admits he was a poor lookout. He chatted with Queequeg and daydreamed instead of watching closely.

He warns ship owners not to hire dreamy young men who bring philosophy books instead of navigation guides. Romantic, absent-minded sailors make bad lookouts. Whales must be seen before they can be killed.

A harpooneer jokes that no whales appear when such a lad is aloft. Maybe whales were far away. Or maybe the dreamy sailor was too lost in thought to notice them.

At that height, the sea can hypnotize you. Waves and thoughts blend together. Every distant fin seems like a passing idea. Your spirit drifts outward until you forget yourself.

But one wrong move brings you back in terror. Ishmael warns that a lookout who slips can fall from the mast into the sea and never rise again.

He ends with a warning to dreamy thinkers: heed it well.