The greenhand is indignant at the agent’s suggestion that he’ll be paid with the 180th lay. “I want 200,” he insists, not understanding his critical mistake in saying so. The agent—always seeking to further line his own pockets—makes no move to correct him, and marks him down for the 200th lay with a satisfied smile.
The pay structure of whaleships was unique in that no one, regardless of rank, received a wage. Instead they were paid in what was called a ‘lay’, in which they received a fraction of the total net proceeds at the end of the voyage (which generally lasted for about 2-4 years but could go on for longer). To get men aboard, sailors were paid an advance upfront—around $75 in the mid 1800s. However they were expected to pay back this advance over the course of the voyage. The advance also had an interest rate of up to 25% for the voyage. In addition to having an advance to pay, anything sailors purchased from the ship’s store (clothing, tobacco, supplies, what have you) was added on to the money they owed. The products sold in the ship’s store were often inferior for their exorbitant prices, but if one needed something, what could they do but buy it? These goods also had high interest rates that added up over the course of the voyage as well. The profits that came from the slopchests were so successful that agents could easily offset a failed voyage with them—to the detriment of the men who performed the labor and didn’t see that same recovery. Any additional money taken out before the end of the voyage, such as wanting spending money while at liberty on shore or to pay for medical care ashore, was also set against a man’s wages with an added interest rate of around 25%. Officers could also have money sent home to their families during the voyage, and of this there was an added one-time charge of 40% of whatever they sent. Basically with the way things were set up, a sailor could potentially end up being in debt to his employers even after receiving his lay, and have to go right back on board again for another voyage to pay it off.
There was tremendous truth to the complaints set forth in traditional whaling ballad, The Weary Whaling Grounds a.k.a Wings of A Gull / Goney (though this one is British—still)
These trials we bear for nigh on four years
'Til our flying jib points to home.
We're supposed for our toil to get a bonus on the oil
And an equal share of the bone.
We go to the agent to settle for the trip
And there we've cause to repent,
For we've slaved away four years of our lives
And we've earned about three pounds ten.
If a man was honorably discharged, such as in the case of illness, he was entitled to a portion of his share. If a man deserted however he’d get nothing. Many deserted regardless because the work was so grueling and they’d rather forfeit all their pay than continue to endure it. There are also instances of agents encouraging the captain to make the return voyage so unbearable that people would desert and leave the ship with a skeleton crew just large enough to get back to port, so shipowners wouldn’t have to pay the shares of the whole crew. In 1836, agent Charles R. Tucker wrote a letter to the captain of Minerva, Charles Starbuck saying:
“We should advise your coming home with only enough to manage the ship comfortably, thinking it a needless expense to ship a full complement to return home as many ships do.”
Whaling firm Swift & Allen was even more overt in their request, frequently advising captains to do whatever was in their power to make men run away in advance of returning home.
In the 1800s successful whaleships brought in around $35,000-$50,000 worth of oil. As for how the money was divided, shipowners/agents received 60%-70% of it. The rest was split among the captain and crew in a hierarchical manner. Below are the shares as well as expected roles within the crew of a whaler, which ranged from 20-40 men:
Captain
Lay: 1/12 - 1/16
Many captains were brought up in the industry, rising through the ranks from a young age. Many also came from whaling families. In addition to managing the voyage, updating the agents, and meting out discipline, the captain would also sometimes join in lowering for whales (as boatheader—see below, under mates). American whaleships were also not required by law to have a doctor on board and very few did (it’s an extreme rarity…I know of like, three). As such, the captain was the one to manage medical care, ranging from dosing emetics to setting bones. Sometimes he would keep the official logbook himself. He was also permitted to bring his family on board, if he so chose.
Mate
Lay: anywhere from 1/18th - 1/65th depending on if they were 1st, 2nd, 3rd, or 4th mates.
Whaleships had 3-4 mates (3 is more common). In addition to carrying out the captain’s order in managing crews they also had domain over their individual whaleboats when lowering for whales. Each mate served as ‘boatheader’. The boatheader would stand at the stern of the whaleboat, steering it and quietly giving direction to the other 5 men rowing. He was the only one who was facing forward to see the whale. Once the boatsteerer (see below) at the bow harpooned the whale and the boat was fast, the mate and boatsteerer would change places. The boatsteerer would take up the steering oar, and the mate would stand at the bow. This switch happened because it was the mate’s job to actually kill the whale with a long lance, when the opportunity presented itself. Mates also tended to be the ones who cut the blanket pieces of blubber (the first and largest strips of that were later cut smaller aboard), either from the whale, or severing the piece when it was lifted up to the deck. The 1st mate also often tended to keep the ship’s log.
Boatsteerers
Lay: 1/80th - 1/110th
Essentially functioned as the petty officers on the ship. There were usually 4, one for each whaleboat. For general ship’s work, they helped oversee the foremast hands and would also coil the whale line tubs for their respective boats. But the core of their job was harpooning the whale. The name of their role is misleading, as for much of the time in the whaleboat they weren’t steering at all. They were positioned at the bow of the boat, helping to row until the opportunity came to harpoon the whale. Then they’d steer (much as one could at that point) upon switching places with the mate. They also could be the ones out on the scaffold when cutting into a whale, separating the blanket piece and discouraging hungry sharks swarming the carcass. Like the other above ranks, boatsteerers were often veteran whalers who worked their way up to that position.
Ordinary
Lay: 1/120th to 1/180th
Foremast hands. They were more experienced seamen than greenhands, who often greatly outnumbered them.
Greenhand
Lay: 1/160th - 1/220th
Inexperienced new crewmen. Whaleships had a disproportionate amount of greenhands aboard than other maritime industries. Because they were small ships with large crews and years to learn on the job, agents were kinda like ‘yeah sure we’ll take anyone lol’. Typically, over half of the men living before the mast were brand new to the work and the sea in general. Line Crossing Ceremonies, for instance, didn’t feature as heavily on whalers as they did on merchant ships cos there were just too many new ones! Too many new ones for Neptune & Co. to haze.
Cook
Lay: 1/120th - 1/180th
He cooks….often the subject of ire among all foremast hands.
Steward
Lay: 1/100th - 1/180th
In charge of the cook and managing provisions. He also maintained the cabins of the captain and mates and waited on officers at meal times.
Carpenter
Lay: 1/120th - 1/180th
In addition to ship repairs, the carpenter also fixed whaleboats that were stove, so depending on the season and the luck, he could be kept very busy. His workbench was located behind the tryworks. In the case of carpenter and blacksmith, sometimes ordinary sailors doubled up on these jobs and served in this capacity as well, but they were more often a separate occupation.
Blacksmith
Lay: 1/20th - 1/180th
In addition to making metal fittings for ship repairs and maintaining the tryworks, he’d craft hoops for barrels, and make and repair whalecraft. He was responsible for straightening out all the twisted irons that were taken from a whale to be used again.
Cooper
Lay: 1/30th - 1/65th
Considered a particularly essential hand aboard, hence the pay. The cooper made all the barrels. And if all went well a whaleship would need a lot of barrels.
Cabin boy
Lay: 1/200th - 1/350th
Not always present on whaleships, but sometimes they were there. They mostly just assisted the steward. Many of them were young sons from whaling families, sometimes the sons or little brothers of mates or captains aboard that ship, going to sea with the intention to become career whalemen.
Boatsteerer Philip Gomes and other members of the bark Wanderer. Photographed by William H Tripp in 1922. From the collections of the New Bedford Whaling Museum.
And just a little bit about the microcosm of rank within a whaleboat as well. There were six men in each.
Boatheader : Mate or Captain, who directs the crew, originally steers the boat, and kills the whale.
Boatsteerer: Petty officer who harpoons the whale, and steers after getting fast.
Bow Oarsman: Usually the most experienced foremast hand, as he managed the line once a whale was fast and led the crew in holding or hauling it when needed.
Midship Oarsman: His oar was often the longest and heaviest to wield, so he had to have a good deal of strength to manage it.
Tub Oarsman: Managed the whale line tubs, mostly making sure they weren’t fouling, and dumped water on them to keep them from burning when they were being pulled by a whale.
After Oarsman: Usually the least experienced member. He’d coil the line that was hauled back into the boat.
All told, for a 3 years cruise, a captain might make $2000 total, and an ordinary seamen $200. Compared to the money the shipowners were bringing in (as well as the wages of a lot of other available jobs ashore), it was pathetic for three years’ or more of brutal work. And for better or for worse EVERYONE on the crew was utterly dependent on the success of the voyage and bound to the success of the voyage in ways that other maritime jobs with a set salary were not.