From Rags to Riches to Rags Again, to Riches… Maybe

Back in the old days, whether you were a catalog dealer or a brick & mortar seller, you probably worked with book scouts. These were people who haunted other shops, yard sales, auctions, and flea markets in search of what they knew to be desirable items, which they’d then pass on to those of us who had more elaborate means of marketing our wares – like in a shop window or on a catalog cover. Some of these scouts were brilliant at what they did. A few of them even made money, though many barely scraped by. Of course, as with so many other things, the rise of the interweb made book scouts relics of the past. Brick & mortar stores began to shut down, and online sellers often proved reluctant to share their Amazon-bound goodies with itinerant scouts. There were fewer opportunities for book scouts to scout, and all but the hardiest of them disappeared.

However, nature abhors a vacuum, and it wasn’t long before old-fashioned book scouts were replaced by virtual book scouts. These internet scouts are knowledgeable dealers who share discoveries they’ve made while plowing through online listings. Just as old-time book scouts were ceaselessly on the hunt, internet scouts spend unimaginable (for most of us) time in front of the computer. They’ve mastered the arcane world of keyword searches, and have other internet tricks up their sleeves. I’ve got three good internet scouts right now, and I mean “Good.” Typically, if their discovery is a valuable one, I’ll offer to partner with them to buy and sell the item. Alternately, the scout might receive a finder’s fee. Sometimes, the information is offered simply as a favor – with the mutual understanding that a reciprocal favor awaits.

Thus it was that old friend Bill Hutchison scouted up an interesting item a couple of weeks ago. It was an eBay sale, and the item seemed to be a whaling log, but the person offering it had done such a lousy job at describing it, that the bidding hadn’t gone past $200, and there were only 12 hours left! To make matters even more interesting, the seller was from the town next to me – an antique dealer I’d known of for years. Eventually, after a hair-raising series of back-and-forths, I was actually able to examine the item prior to the end of the auction.

And I must confess, in my brief exposure to the text, I couldn’t figure the damned thing out. I mean, it seemed to be a whale ship – the journal keeper talked about try works and casks and so forth. But there were no whale stamps or any record that I could find of whales being caught. Instead, the ship had a long layover at an island in the South Pacific. I figured maybe a mutiny, or some other disastrous occurrence. I described my findings to Bill, and he liked the journal, too. He said that the seller had posted the image of a text page in which the journal keeper talked about a man getting slapped in the face with a penguin. You don’t see that every day! I told Bill to bid up to $X, and if we got it, we’d probably make money simply because of its mysterious nature. Oh – I forgot to add that any sign of identification of the vessel, the captain or the journal keep was missing. A complete enigma.

Probably for that reason, our bid was successful, and the journal was on my desk a few days later. Reading carefully through it, I realized that it wasn’t a whaling journal at all. Instead it was a sealing journal. A record of a ship that went down to an island off the Antarctic circle to kill and skin elephant seals – which they did with great vigor and despatch for 3 months or so – hence the long stay on the island. Sealing journals were far rarer than whaling journals. We were going to be rich! Or, at least a little richer than before.

Then began the arduous job of trying to figure out the name of the ship. I spent hours crawling down interweb rabbit holes in search of the names of American vessels engaged in this trade in 1843-44. I scoured every one of the appropriate reference books – and believe me, I’ve got plenty! All to no avail. Nada.

Until I got to Sealing in the Southern Oceans, by colleague Rhys Richards. There I found a snippet of a journal written from the Crozet Islands at just the time my ship had been there. Not only that, but the text in the Richards book matched the text in my log – verbatim! The ship was the Emeline, and the keeper was Washington Fosdick. I experienced a moment of elation – the sort of irrational exuberance one gets upon reaching the summit of a Himalayan mountain or completing a NY Times crossword puzzle (not that I’ve done either).

Same Same!

This was followed immediately by an intense feeling of dejection. The damned thing was stolen. Not only would we not make any money, we’d have to drag through the nasty process of dealing with valuable stolen goods.

The bibliography in the Richards book gave the name of library where the original was held so, to begin the arduous process, I contacted the librarian, who also happened to be a friend, and asked him if he could verify that the book was missing or had been deaquisitioned. His answer was most interesting. He said:

Yes, I cover these volumes pretty extensively in Original Art of the Yankee Whale Hunt. They are a casserole of interrelated volumes, which I suspect resulted in fair copies for reference use. Is yours illustrated?

Well, that was one reference I hadn’t considered! I consulted my copy, and there on page 102 of Mike Dyer’s excellent book, Original Art of the Yankee Whale Hunt was the image of two pages of the Emeline journal. Unsurprisingly, the text of the two journals was identical. However, the library copy was illustrated. Ours, though it was in the identical hand, was not.

 

Same Same Again!

In the end, we had one original to compare with one contemporary fair copy. But which was the original? I suspect the one Bill and I own is the copy. But it’s obvious from the binding that this book, too, has been to sea. The journal keeper most likely made his copy (whichever one it truly was) on the same voyage.

So we’re back in the profit mode again, having an authentic sealing journal to offer, though the price is somewhat lower because another copy exists.

Just one more reason why I love this business!

Oh, and by the way, The Ephemera Society of America held a live ephemera show this past weekend, at which I exhibited. At first, everyone was deliriously happy to see everyone else. Then, with frightening speed, the event turned into the same old thing it’s been for decades. The thrill of the hunt, the joy of the sale, the boredom of Sunday! The crowd seemed about 1/3 smaller and 1/3 older. I sold $340 and spent $9735.

Some things never change.

Here’s the journal:

Manuscript. Sealing Log of Schooner “Emeline” of Mystic CT, Crozets Islands, 1843-44. Washington Fosdick, Keeper. Folio, 32 cm. Unpaginated, about 200 pages of manuscript entries.

Though the vessel and keeper are unidentified in this copy, research indicates that it is one of two copies of the “Emeline” journal. The other copy, which has ink and wash recognition views (the copy offered here is not illustrated), is held at the New Bedford Whaling Museum. The contents of both are identical.

The “Emeline” left port on July 26 and had an interesting and well-documented cruise to the Crozet Islands. Fosdick reports from the Azores that they, “transacted business with a Portuguese who could neither read, write, or speak a solitary word of English, having a negro for his clerk.” Then, “This morning found out that we have five Portugese from Flores instead of four being one more than we intended taking.” They experienced a “tremendous gale of wind off the Cape of Good Hope. barometer 29.05”, but they survived the passage and reached Ship Bay in the Crozets on December 10. “We went on shore and saw about 600 elephant. A goodly number… Elephant being more than twice as numerous and in better order than last voyage.” They set right to work. On Dec. 11, “killed yesterday 200 elephant and skinned 150 of them.” The crew lived ashore and continued sealing operations (with long descriptions by Fosdick) until Feb 5, 1844. This section documenting their sealing activities ashore, is 45 pages long – about 15,000 words with descriptions of their shelter, cooking methods, diet, etc. “Dec. 25 we had almost forgotten today is Christmas. ” For Christmas dinner, “independent of all the variety of elephant, we had a fine pie made of young Albatross.” The entry for Dec. 30 names other ships and captains. The Dec. 31 entry is about strategy and competition among the sealers. As they run short of provisions, two gangs from different ships race to kill a group of seals. Sailing homeward, they developed a serious leak. “Our situation is truly deplorable… leaking about 20,000 strokes in 24 hours.” However, they survived, and on June 23 were off Montauk Point.

Bound in worn vellum over green boards. This journal shows every sign of having been at sea, and was either written or copied on the same voyage as the copy in the Whaling Museum. $6500