A RAILWAY OVER THE SEA
The Florida express was speeding southwards over the railway which
skirts the coast of Florida for mile after mile. Among the passengers
was Mr. Henry Flagler, one of America’s captains of industry and
finance. He was gazing out idly to sea. On the horizon were streams of
vessels steaming northwards and southwards in two long flung-out lines.
They were units in the great coastal service of steamships which ply
incessantly up and down this long stretch of coast between New York,
the West Indies and the ports dotted along the shore line of the Gulf
of Mexico.
At that time the island of Cuba was undergoing a wonderful change. Its
vast resources were being exploited by men of initiative and energy
from the two sides of the Atlantic, and the steamship traffic between
the island and the mainland was advancing by leaps and bounds.
The financier was cogitating deeply. His thoughts had strayed to the
subject of this development, and the fresh impetus it would receive
when the Isthmus of Panama was at last pierced and vessels could float
through the neck of the continent from the Atlantic to the Pacific.
He was the controlling force of the railway over which he was then
travelling, and he was weighing the question as to whether new sources
of revenue could not be tapped for this system. The southernmost point
reached by the Florida East Coast railway was Miami, and though it was
a rising town, he saw that its future was limited, because it formed,
as it were, a dead-end to the line.
As a result of his ruminations he decided to make a bold bid for the
Cuban trade--to deflect traffic from the decks and holds of the
passing steamers. A hundred miles or so south of Miami was one of the
most strategical commercial ports of the country--the outpost of the
United States--where more than 50 per cent. of the vessels trading up
and down the coast make a call. Moreover, it was the point nearest
to the island of Cuba, Havana being scarcely 60 miles away. Yet Key
West was completely isolated; there was not a single stretch of steel
binding it to the intricate railway network of the country.
The magnate decided to forge this missing link in the railway chain; to
bring Key West into direct touch with New York, Chicago, San Francisco,
or any other town on the continent. From his point of view he could see
no obstacle to the realisation of such a scheme beyond the capital cost
of the undertaking.
When he returned to New York he summoned his surveyor, to whom he
unfolded his idea, and to seek his opinion concerning the technical
aspect of the proposition. Mr. Flagler’s proposal was to carry the
line southwards from Miami to the extremity of the country lying at
the outermost end of a chain of coral reefs, and from that point to
transport trains intact on the deck of large ferry-boats to Havana,
where they could be pushed on to the tracks of the Cuban system.
Transhipment of passengers and the breaking bulk of freight between the
great centres of the United States and the island would be obviated,
while the time that would be saved on the passage was considerable,
and, indeed, sufficiently attractive to tempt one to embark upon the
enterprise.
The engineer admitted that the scheme was alluring, but pointed out
that for some 30 miles south of Miami the line would have to be pushed
through one of the worst stretches of country in the United States,
“The Everglades”, emerging from which heavy bridging would be required
to link the chain of islands together.
However, the engineer was dispatched southwards with a corps of
surveyors to investigate the practicability of the scheme on the
spot. They lived for months in the inhospitable bog beyond Miami,
and steamed to and fro among the islets with their transit and level,
plotting out the most economical and easiest route, sounding the water
depths around the coral reefs to determine the extent and cost of
bridging, and the best means of crossing these breaches in the reef.
Then the surveyor returned to New York and sought the railway magnate.
The engineer had a complete roll of drawings and a mass of calculations
and figures. He related the fruits of his labours, pointed out the
route that he suggested should be followed, and hinted that, although
the railway could be built, the cost would be tremendous--would involve
the expenditure of millions.
The financier, however, was not perturbed in the least by the cost.
The project received his sanction, and a few days later the engineer
departed to commence operations. Little time was lost upon the
essential preparations, and soon the grade was forcing its way out of
Miami towards the most southerly point of the United States.
News concerning the enterprise, which up to this point had been
nursed in secrecy, now leaked out. The activity around Miami pointed
to something unusual being under contemplation. When the object of
the extension became known the financial magnate became the butt of
widespread ridicule. His ambitious project was christened “Flagler’s
Folly”, under which name the railway has since been known colloquially.
“Well, there is one thing for which travellers will bless me when they
travel by rail over the Keys,” the moving spirit humorously replied to
his detractors: “they will never be troubled with dust.”
From Miami southwards so far as the eye can reach stretches a dismal
tract of swamp where miasma reigns supreme. The Everglades lie below
the level of the Atlantic Ocean, and the latter is only prevented from
grasping the enormous waterlogged expanse within its ravenous maw by
a slender wall of rock which runs right along the coast. But though
this barrier resists the incursion of the ocean, at the same time
it prevents the imprisoned water on the other side from effecting an
escape. The result is that stagnant water, varying from a few inches to
several feet in depth, according to the season, spreads over the whole
of the depression. It is a huge bog and nothing more, with dank, dense
vegetation growing riotously in all directions, forming an ideal home
for the alligator, which here is found in large numbers. Some 30 miles
of this uninviting marsh confronted the engineers, and until scientific
effort discovers some means of reclaiming the country fringing the
railway from eternal water, it must remain unproductive.
The engineers found this bog difficult to penetrate. Drainage was
impossible, and the raising of an embankment, with the ordinary type
of implements at command, was out of the question, because it was
impossible to secure a solid foundation for their manipulation. For a
few miles south of Miami a rocky ridge thrust its hump above the level
of the marsh, and as its situation was convenient it was followed to
the uttermost limit.
When the builders were compelled to plunge boldly into the marsh they
were beset with difficulties innumerable. Mr. Flagler had realised
from the outset, after meditating upon the plans and reports of the
surveyors, that the only practicable means of seeing his scheme carried
to fruition was by means of direct labour under his own engineers,
instead of by contract. Consequently, he secured the services of the
most capable engineers available, while labour was recruited from all
sides. Fortunately, no difficulty was experienced in this direction,
because the offer of good wages, with everything found, was considered
by the workmen to be an equitable compensation for the risk of malaria.
The engineer-in-chief, the late J. O. Meredith, who died in harness
amid the scene of his labours, resorted to highly ingenious methods to
overcome the fever-ridden swamp. Not only did the conditions demand
that a heavy, solid earthen embankment should be built, with its level
well above the highest watermark, but that the ridge of earth should
be prevented from spreading at the base under the superimposed weight
of a heavy train, and from the insidious attacks of soaking water.
Owing to the absence of rock and gravel in the immediate vicinity,
it appeared as if the engineer would have to haul trainloads of
material for this purpose from long distances, and at great expense,
to be dumped into the unstable mass. But he decided otherwise. He
conceived a far more rapid, simple and inexpensive means of building
the embankment. Two large, square, shallow-draught dredgers were built,
with large grabs rising and falling from the upper end of a projecting
diagonal wooden girder or jib. These were towed to a point known as
Land’s End. Here, on either side of the strip of land forming the
right-of-way for the iron horse, and whereon the embankment was to be
raised, an excavation was made. Each cut was 30 inches deep and just
wide enough to float the vessel comfortably.
The grabs were then brought into play, and with each swing they
withdrew a huge mouthful of the waterlogged soil, swung it round, and
ejected it upon the grade. The grabs were heavy and powerful; their
teeth crunched through roots and decayed vegetable matter relentlessly.
It will be seen that, as a result, each dredger dug a canal for itself
as it advanced on either side of the grade, forming two parallel paths,
with a belt of dry land between. Now and again their advance was
disputed. Just below the water lurked a large rock which defied removal
by the terrible teeth, and yet projected too near the surface to enable
the dredger to float over.
Then the engineer gave another demonstration of his ingenuity. Instead
of wasting time in blasting away the rock, he threw a temporary dam
across the ditch behind the dredger, forming a kind of lock. Water
was pumped from the fellow ditch to raise the level of the water a
sufficient degree to enable the dredger to float over the obstruction.
[Illustration: BUILDING THE GRADE. THE DREDGER CUTTING ITS OWN PATH AND
DUMPING REMOVED SPOIL IN CENTRE TO FORM THE EMBANKMENT FOR THE TRACK]
[Illustration:
_Photos, Hill_]
THE EMBANKMENT COMPLETED, WITH THE CANALS DUG BY THE DREDGERS ON EITHER
SIDE]
The only difficulty experienced in this manner of handling the marsh
was that the marl torn out by the grabs and deposited upon the
right-of-way was so saturated after its immersion for centuries that it
dried very slowly, and delays were frequent and heavy in consequence.
One layer of the dump had to be left exposed for a considerable
time before the next could be added. But the method of building the
embankment proved so eminently successful and efficient, that a new
move was made to meet the necessity for allowing the excavated soil
time to dry. Four additional dredgers were built, two for each canal,
and these were set to work at intervals one behind the other. The
foremost dredger laid the foundations of the embankment, the second
raised it a further height some days later, and after another interval
of time, the third dredger contributed its quota to the constructional
work. In this way the task was expedited very materially. In some
places the bog was found to be covered with mangrove trees, the roots
of which spread like a thick net through the soil. The consequence was
that the grabs tore up a large proportion of roots associated with the
soil, and the former had to be used for embanking purposes, as it could
not be separated from the inorganic matter. But this fibrous substance
dried very quickly, and was so highly combustible that it had to be
covered with a thick layer of broken stone to protect it from fire, and
also to ensure solidity by packing tightly.
[Illustration: HOW THE EMBANKMENT WAS BUILT ON THE KEYS
The dredged material was pumped through the pipe line to fall between
wooden fences to form the grade.]
[Illustration:
_Photos, Hill_]
HOW THE REINFORCED CONCRETE ARCHES WERE BUILT WITHIN WOODEN MOULDS
BUILDING THE “OVER-SEA” RAILWAY]
The completed track has a somewhat novel appearance. There is the
ridge of earth, flanked on either side by a broad ditch, cut by the
dredgers and running as equidistantly from one another as if drawn
with a parallel ruler. These side canals, however, serve to drain the
permanent way to a certain extent.
When the railway-builders made their way through this inhospitable
region they did not meet a vestige of civilisation for over 30 miles.
Then they came across pathetic evidences of attempts at reclamation
here and there in the form of tumbling homes and isolated parties of
half-starved negroes, vainly endeavouring to extract some sort of
subsistence from the bog.
But it is when the railway emerges from the Everglades that the most
wonderful part of the undertaking is seen. A chain of some 30 verdant
islands, composed of coral limestone, stretches out in a graceful curve
for about 109 miles, to disappear finally into the depths of the Gulf
of Mexico at Key West. These reefs are separated by channels of open
sea, of varying widths. These interruptions to the continuity of dry
land are spanned by massive arched viaducts wrought in masonry. Where
the line traverses the islands themselves the permanent way either is
carried on embankments or through deep cuts. The expensive bridging has
been reduced to the minimum, however, for in some cases where the water
is shallow the islands are linked together by a massive solid earthen
embankment.
This section of the railway may be said to be amphibious in the full
sense of the word. In fact, at one point the passenger in the train
is carried beyond the sight of land. The engineer had to build his
structure sufficiently strong and solid as to combat the forces of
wind and wave, and at a level beyond the reach of the spray. When it
is remembered that the railway runs through a territory where tropical
storms of terrific fury prevail, and where cyclones are continually
wreaking widespread damage, some idea of the character of the work
requisite to withstand the buffetings of these abnormal visitations may
be gathered.
These climatic disadvantages were brought forcibly before the moving
spirit in the enterprise at the time of its conception, and accordingly
he demanded that the bridge-work should be built as strongly as
engineering science could make it. No expense was to be spared, for the
financier was determined that no apprehensions as to safety should be
permitted to lurk in the mind of the timid traveller.
The engineer took him at his word. The depth of water in which the
viaducts are built ranges from 10 to 15 feet and more, while the rails
are laid 31 feet above low water. At some places the channel is wide
enough to float a large steamship. The viaducts have been carried out
in ferro-concrete, wherein the masonry is strengthened by means of iron
rods, freely intersecting, which serve to bind the whole mass into a
solid, homogeneous whole, so that the viaduct from end to end becomes
practically a single, monolithic structure.
To enable the subaqueous portions of the piers to be built, coffer-dams
were erected around the sites, the space within being emptied and kept
clear of water by means of powerful pumps. By this means the workmen
were enabled to carry out their task of securing the fabric to the
solid rock on the dry coral sea-bed. Where the water ran up to a depth
of 30 feet, and the situation was exposed to the full fury of gales and
of the Atlantic, caissons were sunk for the purpose of constructing
the piers to above water-level, the men working in compressed air.
The material for constructional purposes was prepared on large,
well-equipped floating plants anchored near by. The timber moulds to
form the shape of the arches were fashioned and bolted together on dry
land, and towed out to sea by tugs to the point of erection and there
set in position.
Some of these series of arches on the amphibious section of the railway
are only a few hundred feet in length; others measure as many thousands
of feet from end to end. For instance, between Long and Grassy
Keys--the islands are known as “keys”--the over-sea viaduct is 2 miles
from end to end.
The viaduct work was confined to the deepest parts of each channel,
being approached from either end over a substantial earthen
embankment. Some idea of how this expedient saved the costly task of
bridge-building may be obtained from the fact that whereas the distance
by the line between Grassy and Long Keys is 29,544 feet--5.6 miles--the
approach embankments aggregate 19,100 feet of this total, the long,
symmetrical line of arches totalling 10,444 feet. In the case of the
gap between two other keys the water is closed by an embankment 21,800
feet in length. In another instance the earthen structure stretches
for 11,950 feet to connect Upper and Lower Matecumbe, but inasmuch
as this channel is used by vessels, the navigable channel is spanned
by a drawbridge 120 feet in length to permit vessels to pass between
the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico. In the first 78 miles of track
running out to sea from the mainland no less than 14 miles represent
bridge-work, the remaining 64 miles being carried out on embankments
across the islands and shallow straits, or by timber trestling.
On the islands, grading was not accompanied by any great difficulties.
The Keys are for the most part somewhat low-lying, and a certain amount
of excavation and filling was required. The latter work was expedited
by building a crude trestle down the centre of the right-of-way, on
which was laid a large pipe communicating with dredgers, and through
this conduit was pumped sand, mud and gravel in a continuous stream
to form the grade to the required height, the slopes on either side
afterwards being flanked with a thick layer of large stones. Direct
labour was employed on this section of the undertaking also, and for
the most part the ordinary wheelbarrow, pick and shovel supplemented
the efforts of the dredger and pipe line. As the Keys are of coralline
limestone, an excellent material for ballasting the line was readily
available.
When a point known as Bahia Honda was gained, the engineer-in-chief
resorted to more expeditious practice. Ten huge mechanical excavators,
each capable of doing every day the work of from 50 to 100 men,
were brought into action. They devoured the spoil to throw up the
embankment at such a speed that one could see the grade’s daily growth.
It was a tedious operation to get these excavators to the scene of
action, because they had to dig their own way through the soil to the
right-of-way, a task which occupied from one to four months, according
to the situation of their respective stations.
One of the gravest difficulties in connection with the whole
undertaking was that experienced in provisioning the 3000 or 4000
men scattered at various points, feverishly toiling to fulfil the
realisation of the financier’s dream, together with the requisite
material. Every drop of water, either for human requirements or
machinery, had to be transported in huge tanks from a distance of 100
miles. The engineer-in-chief pluckily attempted to cut down this
haulage distance one-half by establishing a water station at a creek 50
miles nearer the front. But he reckoned without Nature:
They had just got the plant going when a wind sprang up and prevented
the boats, specially acquired to transport the water from the station
to the nearest point on the railway, from approaching within a mile or
so of the shore. Hurried arrangements had to be made to draw temporary
supplies from Miami once more. A week or two later the wind veered
round and blew just as furiously in the opposite direction, with the
same result. This experience sufficed to prove that no reliance could
be placed upon the new water station, so it was abandoned.
Similarly, all the broken rock for the concrete had to be brought from
the quarries at Miami, and with the cement was stacked in huge heaps
at Knight’s Key, which constituted the supply depot. The scattered
situations of some of the constructional gangs taxed the efforts of the
commissariat to a straining-point. In many cases the supply boats, in
order to get to their destination, only perhaps a mile distant as the
bird flies, had to follow a circuitous route of eight or ten miles to
get there.
When it was seen that Mr. Flagler was serious in his intentions, and
that the first stretch of viaduct was completed successfully, it was
maintained that “Flagler’s Folly,” though a wonder of engineering,
never could hope to pay its way. Time alone can prove or disprove this
contention, but it is worth while to observe that, as each section of
the line has been completed, strenuous efforts to develop the country
penetrated thereby have been made. The Florida East Coast railway
serves an essentially pleasure country--the Riviera of America. Yet, as
the line plunged southwards, hotels sprang up at various sylvan spots,
and they rapidly assumed positions of importance. The only barren
stretch is the Everglades. The commercial conquest of this useless
expanse must come later inevitably, and indeed energetic measures to
this end are in active progress.