The mood was bittersweet on the final day in the existence of Joseph H. Clarke’s English and Classical Academy for Boys. And while there was no real lesson plan, Headmaster Clarke took the opportunity to inspire, and on this day petrify, his students one last time. 
“Gentlemen, we have read many classic works of literature over the year. Each tells a story, but not every story can be found in a book. So, as you go forward in life, I ask that you pay close attention to the world around you. Stories are everywhere. I should like to leave you with one that has quite affected me over the years. I have always felt it inappropriate to share it with my students, because of its graphic nature. However, this being my last day, I no longer see any harm, as I am no longer your instructor, and many of you are ready to go off in the world. In fact, some of the ill-fated souls in this tragic tale were younger that you are now.”
Curious looks were shared around the room. Clarke knew he was grabbing their attention already.  
 “Some years ago, I was returning from a trip to Europe. On board was the most unusual passenger. He wore a gentleman’s suit, and walked with a fine ivory cane, but his skin was extremely weathered, as though he had known a very harsh life. And then there was his disposition. Day after day I spotted him on deck, staring out to the sea.  So curious was I, that one day I struck up a conversation.  
 “He introduced himself as Officer Owen Chase, a veteran of the sea, and former First Mate. He was returning home to Nantucket after having sold his memoirs to a publishing house in London.  Naturally, I asked him about his manuscript which was about his experience onboard the doomed whaling ship, Essex.” [1]
Now all of the students were listening. The tragedy of the Essex was already legend as one of the greatest maritime disasters in the young history of America. But because some reports included accounts of infighting, mutiny and cannibalism, the story was deemed inappropriate to discuss in polite society, and therefore shrouded in mystery. 
 “What struck me most were his piercing blue eyes that were filled with the most profound sadness,” the headmaster continued. “We spoke at length. I told Officer Chase that I was a Headmaster at an American academy for boys, and that I should very much like to read his work. I have him my card, and within a months time, his publisher was kind enough to offer me a copy of his manuscript. 
 “The story goes that upon the day the Essex set sail, Office Chase looked around at the freshmen crew, and had a terrible premonition. Somehow he knew most of them were marked to die at sea. Now, I probably don’t have to tell you that men of the sea are a superstitious bunch. They have been since the days of Odysseus. So when the Essex hit a squall two days into their journey, the veterans on board took it as an omen, and asked to turn back. Does this sound like anything we’ve read this year, gentlemen?”
Creed raised his hand. “It sounds like The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner, Sir.” 
 “Precisely, Mr. Thomas. It is highly likely that Coleridge’s story had some basis in truth. It is also quite plausible that Officer Chase’s story may inspire future writers with his compelling tale [3]. Back to our story then. The storm nearly sank the Essex right then and there, and while they were spared, they lost one of their whaling boats. Yes, Mr. Howard, you have a question?” 
 “Is it true, Sir, that the smaller, whaling boats served as lifeboats?” 
 “They did, Mr. Howard. Unfortunately, the captain had come about his position through favors curried by his powerful family, and had little or no prior experience at the helm, so rather than stop along the coast for a replacement boat, he ordered the crew to carry on. They had rounded Cape Horn, and were deep into the Pacific Ocean when they came under attack. I should now like to read a portion of Officer Chase’s manuscript.  
Each boy was on the edge of his seat as the Headmaster began.
 “I observed a very large spermaceti whale, as well as I could judge, about eighty-five feet in length; he broke water about twenty rods off our weather bow, and was lying quietly, with his head in a direction for the ship. He spouted two or three times, and then disappeared. In less than two or three seconds he came up again, about the length of the ship off, and made directly for us, at the rate of about three knots. The ship was then going with about the same velocity. His appearance and attitude gave us at first no alarm; but while I stood watching his movements, and observing him but a ship’s length off, coming down for us with great celerity, I involuntarily ordered the boy at the helm to put it hard up; intending to sheer off and avoid him. The words were scarcely out of my mouth, before he came down upon us with full speed, and struck the ship with his head, just forward of the fore-chains; he gave us such an appalling and tremendous jar, as nearly threw us all on our faces. The ship brought up as suddenly and violently as if she had struck a rock and trembled for a few seconds like a leaf. We looked at each other with perfect amazement, deprived almost of the power of speech. Many minutes elapsed before we were able to realize the dreadful accident; during which time he passed under the ship, grazing her keel as he went along, came up underside of her to leeward, and lay on the top of the water (apparently stunned with the violence of the blow), for the space of a minute; he then suddenly started off, in a direction to leeward. After a few moments’ reflection, and recovering, in some measure, from the sudden consternation that had seized us, I of course concluded that he had stove a hole in the ship, and that it would be necessary to set the pumps going. Accordingly they were rigged, but had not been in operation more than one minute, before I perceived the head of the ship to be gradually settling down in the water; I then ordered the signal to be set for the other boats, which scarcely had I dispatched, before I again discovered the whale, apparently in convulsions, on the top of the water, about one hundred rods to leeward. He was enveloped in the foam of the sea, that his continual and violent thrashing about in the water had created around him, and I could distinctly see him smite his jaws together, as if distracted with rage and fury. He remained a short time in this situation, and then started off with great velocity, across the bows of the ship, to windward. 
 “By this time the ship had settled down a considerable distance in the water, and I gave her up as lost. I however, ordered the pumps to be kept constantly going, and endeavored to collect my thoughts for the occasion. I turned to the boats, two of which we then had with the ship, with an intention of clearing them away, and getting all things ready to embark in them, if there should be no other resource left. While my attention was thus engaged for a moment, I was aroused with the cry of a man at the hatchway, “Here he is – he is making for us again.” I turned around, and saw him about one hundred rods directly ahead of us, coming down apparently with twice his ordinary speed, and to me at that moment, it appeared with tenfold fury and vengeance in his aspect. The surf flew in all directions about him, and his course towards us was marked by a white foam of a rod in width, which he made with the continual violent thrashing of his tail; his head was about half out of water, and in that way he came upon, and again struck the ship. I was in hopes when I descried him making for us, that by a dexterous movement of putting the ship away immediately, I should be able to cross the line of his approach, before he could get up to us, and thus avoid, what I knew, if he should strike us again, would prove our inevitable destruction. I bawled out to the helmsman, “hard up!” but she had not fallen off more than a point, before we took the second shock. I should judge the speed of the ship to have been at this time about three knots, and that of the whale about six. He struck her to windward, directly under the cathead, and completely stove in her bows. He passed under the ship again, went off to leeward, and we saw no more of him. [4]
Clarke paced around the room,  the sound of his boots thumping in time. It was time to up the anti. 
 “We were more than a thousand miles from the nearest land, and with nothing but a light open boat, as the resource of safety for myself and companions…. By the time we had got the boat to the waist, the ship had filled with water, and was going down on her beam-ends: we shoved our boat as quickly as possible from the plant-shear into the water, all hands jumping in her at the same time, and launched off clear of the ship. We were scarcely two boat’s lengths distant from her, when she fell over to windward, and settled down in the water. [4]
 “They numbered twenty souls,” said the headmaster. “In the three remaining boats.”
 “Amazement and despair now wholly took possession of us. We contemplated the frightful situation the ship lay in, and thought with horror upon the sudden and dreadful calamity that had overtaken us. We looked upon each other, as if to gather some consolatory sensation from an interchange of sentiments, but every countenance was marked with the paleness of despair. Not a word was spoken for several minutes by any of us; all appeared to be bound in a spell of stupid consternation. [4]
Clarke basked in the attention his final story commanded. 
 “…The remaining boats tried to stay together, but were split up in a storm. In both parties, men perished, their bodies buried at sea. When the next man died in Officer Chase’s boat, it was decided instead of committing the body to the water; they would prepare for ‘The Custom of the Sea’ [5]. But Officer Chase and the inhabitants of his small boat didn’t have the worst of it. 
 “On the fourteenth, the whole stock of provisions belonging to the second mate’s boat, was entirely exhausted, and on the twenty-fifth, the black man, Lawsen Thomas, died, and was eaten by his surviving companions. On the twenty-first, the captain and his crew were in the like dreadful situation with respect to their provisions; and on the twenty-third, another coloured man, Charles Shorter, died out of the same boat, and his body was shared for food between the crews of both boats. On the twenty-seventh, another, Isaac Shepherd (a black man) [sic], died in the third boat; and on the twenty-eight, another black, named Samuel Reed, died out of the captain’s boat. The bodies of these men constituted their only food while it lasted; and on the twenty-ninth, owing to the darkness of the night and want of sufficient power to manage their boats, those of the captain and second mate separated. On the 1st of February, having consumed the last morsel, the captain and the three other men that remained with him, were reduced to the necessity of Casting Lots [5]. It fell upon Owen Coffin to die, who with great fortitude and resignation submitted to his fate. They drew lots to see who should shoot him: he placed himself firmly to receive his death, and was immediately shot by Charles Ramsdale, whose hard fortune it was to become his executioner. On the 11th, Brazilla Ray died; and on these two bodies the captain and Charles Ramsdale, the only two that were then left, subsisted until the morning of the twenty-third, when they fell in with the ship Dauphin, and were saved from the sea.” 
 “In the end,” Clarke addressed the class. “The crew of the Essex had been on the high seas for more than 90 days. There were eight survivors of the original twenty-one.” 
The room was still. Clarke relished the tension one last time before removing his bifocals, and addressing the class one last time. 
“Gentlemen, you cannot guarantee what tomorrow will bring. It may be calm waters, or it may be storm on the sea. One thing is for sure, life will hand throw you time and again. It is my heartiest wish hat each of you has a wonderful, and fulfilling life. Take nothing for granted. Cherish these days. Thank you all for being such stellar students. It has been my unique honor to instruct you. I am forever grateful to you all.”
The class erupted in applause. A single voice was audible over it all. Tom Ellis cupped his hands and yelled, “Sir! We have something for you too, Sir.” Eddy took his cue, and walked to the podium. 
“You, Sir, are north only one who wishes to share reflections.” 
ADD HERE EDDY’S WORDS
Eddy ben with a reference to the headmaster’s Influence over the year; that there had always been such Truth in his words. He explained that the lessons they had learned would surely have Longevity, because they could each Identify with the examples he had set for them. 
 “With a unique style, the indelible mark you have made will no doubt Inspire each and every one of us in the years to come. We thank you, Headmaster Clarke, for your generosity, integrity, and knowledge. Much like the literature you so adore, you Sir, are a classic.” 
Eddy finished his closing words and looked to the headmaster once more. It was clear he had made his mark. [6]