continued from part 4. "There was now no doubt but what the 'Emigrant' had finally located fertile whaling grounds. Hardly a day passed without at least one whale being sighted, and sometimes as many as half a dozen. They were all sperm whales, however, and were much more difficult to capture than the common variety known as 'right' whales. In the second week of September, the 'Emigrant' log relates the unusual capture of five handsome specimens. Such good fortune was short-lived, for the next successful encounter was not recorded until some three months later, on December 5, 1845. For nearly a year the 'Emigrant' continued its wearisome cruise throughout the vast expanse of the Eastern Indian Ocean, trying in vain to capture more of the valuable 'kings of the sea', but only the winds of ill-fortune filled her cumbersome sails and, bitterly disappointed, Captain Sherman ordered the ship homeward-bound in the early fall of the year 1846. Circling the Cape of Good Hope, ever on the watch for stray whales to fill out their lean cargo, the men became more and more cheerful as each day brought them nearer to home and the loved ones they had left behind. After sailing off the coast of West Africa for several months the 'Emigrant' headed for the shores of North America, and, early in the morning of January 29, 1847, the joyous shout came from the crow's nest, 'Thar's old Block Island, boys, arisin' to the larboard'. Two days later the little bark sailed into Bristol harbor, and a welcoming cheer of both joy and thankfulness arose from the crowded wharves as one of the seamen yelled the good news at the top of his voice, 'All safe, none lost.' Thus ended the last successful voyage of the whaling bark 'Emigrant', for the next year she again set out for the Indian Ocean, this time from the busy port of New Bedford. She was found tossing about in a hungry sea, bottom up, with all hands, in the words of Irving, 'gone down amidst the roar of the tempest; their bones lie whitening among the caverns of the deep. Silence, oblivion, like the waves, have closed over them and no one can tell the story of their end.' "