Arthur Young had seen it first. Bounding down to the cove ahead of his father and his crew of two other cocklers he came upon it. The sight of the mass of shadowy flesh on the beach stopped him straight. Silenced him. The next sound he heard was his father’s voice a minute later. ‘Bloody hell, son. That’s a big fella.’ After a few minutes of staring at it, they retreated to the village and roused Councillor Swift from his bed. ‘What brings you to my door at this hour, William Young?’ ‘There’s beached sperm in the cove. A bloody massive one. Fifty foot, I’m reckoning.’ ‘I’ll get my scarf and boots on.’ The four of them returned to the whale with Councillor Swift. Not certain it was dead, they walked around it at a distance. Rolled on its side, the huge head sprawled outwards into the sand, white swirls…