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Thank you. It's the morning of November 20th, 1820, on board the whaling ship Essex in the southern Pacific Ocean.

22-year-old first mate Owen Chase hammers a nail into a plank.

Runs his fingers along the

seam and then grunts with satisfaction because the joint looks tight and seaworthy. More than a year ago,

the whaling ship Essex left Massachusetts bound for the hunting grounds of the Pacific.

Since then, its crew has killed several whales, and today they're on the hunt again.

Two other whale boats are currently on the water chasing prey, but this one has sprung a leak, so it's been hoisted onto the

main deck for Owen to repair. And he must work fast. Hunting season waits for no one, and every

lost hour comes at a cost. A voice from the Crohn's Nest interrupts Owen's work, and he glances up.

A sailor is pointing off the port side. No one squints into the sun's glare as he follows the man's

gesture. An unusually large sperm whale lies motionless on the surface. Owen's heart beats faster.

If they can kill it, it'll go a long way to filling their hold with

precious oil. Owen goes to the rail for a closer look, and for a moment he thinks that the whale

is already dead. But then it moves. With a powerful flick of its tail, the whale begins gliding

toward the Essex, slowly at first, but then faster and faster still. Too late, Owen realizes

that the whale is heading right for the ship. He grips the rail as the animal hits the

Essex and the ship shudders from the impact. Owen leans over the side to check the damage

and sees its splinters and broken planks float on the waves. The whale then surfaces, and with a blast

...