{"id":"01KFNR8B95N3G4T8GKX7CV8N1C","cid":"bafkreibd7zhpdnhjqrlyfezeoueiqzcx4isszq6ot6aohxj46mbsjt4ewe","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":16724,"extracted_at":"2026-01-23T15:41:06.395Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KFNR0Z394A878Y5AQ63MQEM2","start_line":16658,"text":"binnacle, with his glance fastened on the pointed needle in the\r\ncompass, that glance shot like a javelin with the pointed intensity of\r\nhis purpose; and when resuming his walk he again paused before the\r\nmainmast, then, as the same riveted glance fastened upon the riveted\r\ngold coin there, he still wore the same aspect of nailed firmness, only\r\ndashed with a certain wild longing, if not hopefulness.\r\n\r\nBut one morning, turning to pass the doubloon, he seemed to be newly\r\nattracted by the strange figures and inscriptions stamped on it, as\r\nthough now for the first time beginning to interpret for himself in\r\nsome monomaniac way whatever significance might lurk in them. And some\r\ncertain significance lurks in all things, else all things are little\r\nworth, and the round world itself but an empty cipher, except to sell\r\nby the cartload, as they do hills about Boston, to fill up some morass\r\nin the Milky Way.\r\n\r\nNow this doubloon was of purest, virgin gold, raked somewhere out of\r\nthe heart of gorgeous hills, whence, east and west, over golden sands,\r\nthe head-waters of many a Pactolus flows. And though now nailed amidst\r\nall the rustiness of iron bolts and the verdigris of copper spikes,\r\nyet, untouchable and immaculate to any foulness, it still preserved its\r\nQuito glow. Nor, though placed amongst a ruthless crew and every hour\r\npassed by ruthless hands, and through the livelong nights shrouded with\r\nthick darkness which might cover any pilfering approach, nevertheless\r\nevery sunrise found the doubloon where the sunset left it last. For it\r\nwas set apart and sanctified to one awe-striking end; and however\r\nwanton in their sailor ways, one and all, the mariners revered it as\r\nthe white whale’s talisman. Sometimes they talked it over in the weary\r\nwatch by night, wondering whose it was to be at last, and whether he\r\nwould ever live to spend it.\r\n\r\nNow those noble golden coins of South America are as medals of the sun\r\nand tropic token-pieces. Here palms, alpacas, and volcanoes; sun’s\r\ndisks and stars; ecliptics, horns-of-plenty, and rich banners waving,\r\nare in luxuriant profusion stamped; so that the precious gold seems\r\nalmost to derive an added preciousness and enhancing glories, by\r\npassing through those fancy mints, so Spanishly poetic.\r\n\r\nIt so chanced that the doubloon of the Pequod was a most wealthy\r\nexample of these things. On its round border it bore the letters,\r\nREPUBLICA DEL ECUADOR: QUITO. So this bright coin came from a country\r\nplanted in the middle of the world, and beneath the great equator, and\r\nnamed after it; and it had been cast midway up the Andes, in the\r\nunwaning clime that knows no autumn. Zoned by those letters you saw the\r\nlikeness of three Andes’ summits; from one a flame; a tower on another;\r\non the third a crowing cock; while arching over all was a segment of\r\nthe partitioned zodiac, the signs all marked with their usual\r\ncabalistics, and the keystone sun entering the equinoctial point at\r\nLibra.\r\n\r\nBefore this equatorial coin, Ahab, not unobserved by others, was now\r\npausing.\r\n\r\n“There’s something ever egotistical in mountain-tops and towers, and\r\nall other grand and lofty things; look here,—three peaks as proud as\r\nLucifer. The firm tower, that is Ahab; the volcano, that is Ahab; the\r\ncourageous, the undaunted, and victorious fowl, that, too, is Ahab; all\r\nare Ahab; and this round gold is but the image of the rounder globe,\r\nwhich, like a magician’s glass, to each and every man in turn but\r\nmirrors back his own mysterious self. Great pains, small gains for\r\nthose who ask the world to solve them; it cannot solve itself. Methinks\r\nnow this coined sun wears a ruddy face; but see! aye, he enters the\r\nsign of storms, the equinox! and but six months before he wheeled out\r\nof a former equinox at Aries! From storm to storm! So be it, then. Born\r\nin throes, ’tis fit that man should live in pains and die in pangs! So\r\nbe it, then! Here’s stout stuff for woe to work on. So be it, then.”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KFNR8380YKNGSF7KBSA9YC6S","peer_label":"Stowing Down and Clearing Up","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KFNR8380YKNGSF7KBSA9YC6S","peer_label":"Stowing Down and Clearing Up","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"partOf"},{"peer":"01KFNR81RMVAX2BBMMBW51V97D","peer_label":"Moby Dick; Or, The Whale","peer_type":"novel","predicate":"partOf"},{"peer":"01KFNR0H0Q791Y1SMZWEQ09FGV","peer_label":"Moby Dick","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KFNR8B8XGTWQWZB3B936W0ZF","peer_label":"Chunk 3","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"},{"peer":"01KFNR8B68ME8EZ3M293BBBJNY","peer_label":"Chunk 1","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-23T15:41:07.001Z","ts":"2026-01-23T15:41:17.941Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}