"That instant, the White Whale made a sudden rush among the remaining tangles of the other lines; by so doing, irresistibly dragged the more involved boats of Stubb and Flask towards his flukes; dashed them together like two rolling husks on a surf-beaten beach, and then, diving down into the sea, disappeared in a boiling maelstrom, in which, for a space, the odorous cedar chips of the wrecks danced round and round, like the grated nutmeg in a swiftly stirred bowl of punch."
Musing: Things are getting grim! Moby-Dick has caused the harpoon lines from all three boats to become entangled. Ahab has already cut his boat free, but Stubb and Flask are headed for disaster. The description of the wreck is simply incredible. The pieces of wood from the two wrecked boats become grated nutmeg. The Sea becomes a bowl of punch. The amazing micro/macro look at our world is complete here. In the end, are we nothing more than grated pieces of nutmeg floating in this punch bowl of life?