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CHAPTER 1 My Story Begins

He is out there—in the ocean. But he is here too—in my dreams, always in my dreams. He will never leave me. He is whiter than the first beautiful snow in winter—whiter than the stars in the sky on a warm summer’s night. But he brings only death. He is Moby Dick—the white whale.

♦

My name is Ishmael and this is my story I’m a sailor and I work on different ships. I love my life on the ocean. It’s sometimes dangerous but never, never boring. I feel sad when I’m not on a ship.

One November day I thought, “I want to work on a whaling ship.” Why did I want to be a whaler? I can’t tell you. The life of a whaler is very dangerous. The men are away from their homes and families for years. Many never come back. Their wives wait at home. They stand and look at the ocean with sad eyes. But I wanted to visit exciting new places and I wanted to see the whales.

The first American whalers sailed from the town of Nantucket, so I went there too. I arrived on a cold, dark night and looked for a room. I was tired, so I went into the first place. The men inside drank and talked loudly a large man with a red face stood behind the bar.

‘To you have a room for tonight?” I asked him.

“Our rooms are full,” he said. “The men are here for the whaling ships. I’ll have to put you in a room with Queequeg.” Then he smiled and looked around at the other men.

“Who’s Queequeg? Where is he?” I asked.

“Oh, He’s a whaler. He’s out now, but he’ll be back later,” said the man. Then he smiled again and the other men laughed loudly.

I didn’t understand, but I was very tired. So I went to the room and got into bed. I fell asleep very quickly.

A noise outside the door woke me up. I opened my eyes but I didn’t speak. The door opened and a man came in. It was dark, so I couldn’t see him well. Then he lit a fire in the fireplace.

When I saw him in the light of the fire, I sat up. He was a huge man and very, very ugly! He had black lines over his face and body, and almost no hair on his head. He wore a strange skirt and no other clothes.

The huge man suddenly jumped onto my bed.

“Help!” I shouted. “Help!”

The barman ran in. “Stop, Queequeg! This man wants a bed for tonight. He’s sleeping here.” Then he turned to me. “This is Queequeg—the finest whaler on the ocean. Don’t be afraid. He won’t hurt you!” He laughed and left us.

After he left, we were very quiet. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“I too,” Queequeg said. His English was slow and careful.

We began to talk and then we couldn’t stop! Queequeg listened to my life story and I listened to his. He came from Kokovoko, a long way away in the Pacific Ocean. He had a good life because his father was an important man. But Queequeg wanted to see the world. So he left his home and sailed away in his small boat. A whaling ship found him and gave him work. Queequeg was strong and quick so he was a fine whaler now He never went home.

When the morning came, we were great friends. Queequeg stood up and shouted, “You will find us a whaling ship today! You and I will sail around the world!” And do you know something? He was right! Queequeg knew because he could see the future. I learned this later. He was a strange and wonderful new friend.