Yes. He might have carried him round by the way of
the Cape of Good Hope. But not to speak of the passage through the whole length
of the Mediterranean, and another passage up the Persian Gulf and Red Sea, such
a supposition would involve the complete circumnavigation of all Africa in three
days, not to speak of the Tigris waters, near the site of Nineveh, being too
shallow for any whale to swim in. Besides, this idea of Jonah's weathering the
Cape of Good Hope at so early a day would wrest the honour of the discovery of
that great headland from Bartholomew Diaz, its reputed discoverer, and so make
modern history a liar.
    But all these foolish arguments of old Sag Harbour only evinced his foolish
pride of reason - a thing still more reprehensible in him, seeing that he had
but little learning except what he had picked up from the sun and the sea. I say
it only shows his foolish, impious pride, and abominable, devilish rebellion
against the reverend clergy. For by a Portuguese Catholic priest, this very idea
of Jonah's going to Nineveh via the Cape of Good Hope was advanced as a signal
magnification of the general miracle. And so it was. Besides, to this day, the
highly enlightened Turks devoutly believe in the historical story of Jonah. And
some three centuries ago, an English traveller in old Harris's Voyages speaks of
a Turkish mosque built in honour of Jonah, in which mosque was a miraculous lamp
that burnt without any oil.
 

                                 Chapter LXXXIV

                                  Pitchpoling

To make them run easily and swiftly, the axles of carriages are anointed; and
for much the same purpose, some whalers perform an analogous operation upon
their boat; they grease the bottom. Nor is it to be doubted that as such a
procedure can do no harm, it may possibly be of no contemptible advantage;
considering that oil and water are hostile; that oil is a sliding thing, and
that the object in view is to make the boat slide bravely. Queequeg believed
strongly in anointing his boat, and one morning not long after the German ship
Jungfrau disappeared, took more than customary pains in that occupation;
crawling under its bottom, where it hung over the side, and rubbing in the
unctuousness as though diligently seeking to ensure a crop of hair from the
craft's bald keel. He seemed to be working in obedience to some particular
presentiment. Nor did it remain unwarranted by the event.
    Toward noon whales were raised; but so soon as the ship sailed down to them,
they turned and fled with swift precipitancy; a disordered flight,