The Pequod cut gently through the green coastal grasslands of Britain, sailing steadily northeast toward Java Island. A soft wind pushed her hull forward. In the quiet, peaceful ocean air, her three tall, slender masts swayed slowly in the faint breeze, just like three quiet palm trees standing on a flat plain.
Even now, in the pale silver glow of the night sky, the faint, tempting white spray of a whale’s blow could still be seen far off, appearing once in a great while.
Then came a clear, bright blue morning. The sea fell into an almost unnatural stillness—not the dull, lifeless calm of stagnant water. Bright sunlight stretched across the waves like a gleaming golden finger laid on the sea surface, as if guarding some hidden secret.
Small waves slipped past one another softly, whispering faint sounds as they rolled forward smoothly. In this total, all-encompassing quiet of the world, Daggoo, standing at the top of the main mast, spotted a strange, terrifying sight.
Far out on the water, a huge white shape rose slowly from the sea. It climbed higher and higher, breaking free from the blue ocean backdrop. Soon, it glinted brightly right in front of the ship’s bow, looking exactly like a pile of fresh snow sliding down a mountain slope.
It shone brightly for a moment, then slowly sank back down into the water. A second later, it rose again, glowing silently in the sunlight.
Daggoo stared hard, his mind racing. That doesn’t look like an ordinary whale. But could this be Moby Dick?
The strange white shape vanished once more. When it popped up again, Daggoo let out a sharp, piercing cry that jolted every dozing sailor awake.
“There! Right there again! It’s breaching dead ahead! The White Whale! It’s Moby Dick!”
At his shout, all the sailors scrambled quickly to the ship’s yardarms, swarming like bees rushing to tree branches.
Ahab stood bareheaded on the bowsprit, baking in the hot, stuffy sun. One hand stretched far back, ready to signal orders to the helmsman. His eyes burned with urgency, fixed firmly on the spot Daggoo’s outstretched arm pointed to high above.
No one knew for sure if the faint, lonely whale spray they’d watched for days had slowly shifted Ahab’s mood, making him half-expect to spot his hunted white whale in this calm, gentle weather. It might have been that quiet buildup, or simply his overwhelming eagerness taking over.
Either way, the second Ahab clearly saw the massive white shape on the water, he snapped out sharp, fast orders to lower the small fishing boats.
Within moments, all four boats were floating on the sea. Ahab’s boat led the way, every man rowing hard and fast toward the mysterious prey.
The white shape sank beneath the waves. The crew paused with their oars lifted, waiting for it to resurface. And then, right where it had disappeared, it rose slowly once again.
For a moment, everyone forgot all about Moby Dick. They could only stare in stunned amazement at the most bizarre, wondrous sight the hidden depths of the ocean had ever revealed to humans.
A gigantic, soft white mass floated on the water, stretching acres wide in every direction. Its skin shimmered with a pale cream hue. Countless long tentacles spread out from its center, curling and twisting like a tangled nest of giant snakes, blindly grasping at anything within its reach.
It had no clear face, no distinct front, and no visible sign of feeling or instinct. It just undulated gently on the waves—a ghostly, shapeless, utterly alien living thing.
With a low, sucking gurgle, the strange creature slowly slipped back into the deep water.
Starbuck kept staring at the churning, disturbed waves where it had vanished. He spoke in a shaky, awestruck voice.
“I would rather have seen Moby Dick and fought him head-on than lay eyes on that white phantom.”
Flask turned to him, confused.
“What was that thing, sir?”
“A giant live squid,” Starbuck replied. “Very few whaling ships have ever seen one and lived to tell the tale.”
Ahab said not a single word. He turned his boat around and headed silently back toward the Pequod, with the other boats following quietly behind him.
Sperm whale sailors have long held all kinds of superstitious beliefs about seeing this giant squid. Sightings are so extremely rare that the creature has always been seen as a bad omen, a sign of coming misfortune.
All sailors agree it is the largest living creature in the ocean, yet almost none of them know exactly what it looks like or how it lives. Still, they firmly believe it is the only food source for sperm whales.
Other whale species hunt for food near the ocean’s surface, so humans can watch them feed. But sperm whales hunt entirely in the dark, unknown depths of the sea. People can only guess what they eat, with no way to confirm it for certain.
Sometimes, when a sperm whale is chased hard, it will spit out broken pieces of squid tentacles. Some of these discarded tentacles measure twenty or even thirty feet long.
Sailors believe these giant squid anchor themselves to the ocean floor with their long tentacles. Unlike other whales, sperm whales have sharp teeth specifically to attack and tear apart these massive sea creatures.
Many people think the legendary giant sea monster described by Bishop Pontoppidan—the great Kraken—is actually just this giant squid. The bishop’s description of a huge creature that rises and sinks repeatedly in the water matches the squid’s behavior perfectly, along with many other small details he recorded.
Of course, his claims about the creature’s unbelievable size are greatly exaggerated and cannot be trusted.
Some naturalists who have heard vague rumors of this mysterious sea beast classify it as a type of cuttlefish. In basic appearance, it does resemble a cuttlefish—except it is a colossal, giant version of its small relatives.