It started with a question about whales

It is valuable to know something about whaling, but it is necessary to know something about greed. The kind of greed which consumes a man beyond any shadow of humanity and pushes him into the well of indignity, cruelty, and obsession. Not all men are susceptible to it, few succumb to it, but for those who are lured b the charms it is well said that all is lost. It is the greed men are consumed by when they begin the hunt for the great fish. The greatness of this devilfish is well underestimated by modern men. If you cannot understand these things, my friend, you are better off moving on from this tale. For without that at least an awe for the great whale you will not understand how this one captain dredged his crew through such a misshapen adventure.
A history lesson. In the late seventeen hundreds the world reached the brink of a new age. A shift in human behavior arose that depended solely on the availability of light- artificial light. Invention, commerce, extended shop hours, and later bedtimes riddled cities and towns as for the first time lamps graced tables and counter tops. In the bulb of each lamp, oil from the body of a whale. Unlike the early parts of the century when families treated this phenomena as both privilege and miracle, with the influx of whales came something man has not yet since been able to tear itself away from- a dependency on oil.
It is with this in mind that I ask you to frame the following piece of legality. Come the late eighteenth century whaling boat captains had their crew members sign contracts. These contracts authorized the captain to extend a whaling voyage by six month increments at will and without the cooperation of the crew. With the money to be had on the bounty of the sea few sailors refused to sign, but this contract tested the limits of even the heartiest of men.
With that in mind allow me to introduce our crew. A ramshackled group of 37 men aboard a ninety foot whaling vessel named Misery’s Madame. Strange bedfellows the sailors. Some barely through with pirating, others green to the ocean’s seductive charms. Most with families tucked away safely inland so to remain ignorant of both the rough seas faced by husbands and fathers, as well as the rough women tumbled about the trade. Some good men, some foul-mouthed, and all with the roughness and blight of life enough to fill their own stories. And although without doubt this story belongs to these men- for some those months at sea dominate their biographies- it first and foremost is a story about a captain.
Captain McKay was as charming a man could be at port, to the reverend he was a dear friend, to the tippler a mate, and to the British council a gentleman who paid his dues- but ask any man who’d sailed beneath him and they will tell you the man was nothing short of a cunning beast set to dredge each man of his worth. When he wrangled his crew he saw nothing of the story twinkling inside each eye, he saw only an arms length closer to the belly of a whale. He measured the weight of his crew in barrels of oil, and any man who drained rather than filled would be noted under the watchful stare of Captain McKay. He disliked dishonest men and braggarts. Any man at port who overestimated his skills before the mast was unlikely to keep his post when discovered aloof at sea. Many accidents occur aboard a ship. Many a man disappeared under the court of the Captain.