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CHAPTER 22 . Merry Christmas . At length , towards noon , upon the final dismissal of the ship’s riggers , and after the Pequod had been hauled out from the wharf , and after the ever - thoughtful Charity had come off in a whale - boat , with her last gift — a night - cap for Stubb , the second mate , her brother - in - law , and a spare Bible for the steward — after all this , the two Captains , Peleg and Bildad , issued from the cabin , and turning to the chief mate , Peleg said : “ Now , Mr . Starbuck , are you sure everything is right ? Captain Ahab is all ready — just spoke to him — nothing more to be got from shore , eh ? Well , call all hands , then . Muster ’ em aft here — blast ’ em ! ” “ No need of profane words , however great the hurry , Peleg , ” said Bildad , “ but away with thee , friend Starbuck , and do our bidding . ” How now ! Here upon the very point of starting for the voyage , Captain Peleg and Captain Bildad were going it with a high hand on the quarter - deck , just as if they were to be joint - commanders at sea , as well as to all appearances in port . And , as for Captain Ahab , no sign of him was yet to be seen ; only , they said he was in the cabin . But then , the idea was , that his presence was by no means necessary in getting the ship under weigh , and steering her well out to sea . Indeed , as that was not at all his proper business , but the pilot’s ; and as he was not yet completely recovered — so they said — therefore , Captain Ahab stayed below . And all this seemed natural enough ; especially as in the merchant service many captains never show themselves on deck for a considerable time after heaving up the anchor , but remain over the cabin table , having a farewell merry - making with their shore friends , before they quit the ship for good with the pilot . But there was not much chance to think over the matter , for Captain Peleg was now all alive . He seemed to do most of the talking and commanding , and not Bildad . “ Aft here , ye sons of bachelors , ” he cried , as the sailors lingered at the main - mast . “ Mr . Starbuck , drive ’ em aft . ” “ Strike the tent there ! ” — was the next order . As I hinted before , this whalebone marquee was never pitched except in port ; and on board the Pequod , for thirty years , the order to strike the tent was well known to be the next thing to heaving up the anchor . “ Man the capstan ! Blood and thunder ! — jump ! ” — was the next command , and the crew sprang for the handspikes .
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