MY FATAL CURIOSITY.
We sailed from Harbeck’s Stores, New York harbor, on a fair June day,
for the Azores, intending to make our first call at Horta, and then
to touch at Ponte Delgada, whence we would proceed to Lisbon for
orders.
At the last hour I had accepted a passenger in the person of Arthur
Gray. He claimed to be an artist, and certainly exhibited evidences
of his profession in the portfolio and drawing pads that made part of
his luggage. He had with him one of the new Secor launches, propelled
by direct explosion against the water astern. It was built with more
shear than an ordinary craft of the kind, so that, as he maintained,
it would be possible to navigate the ocean in calm weather.
Three days from New York, at Gray’s urgent solicitation, I altered
the course of the Caribas. After reaching longitude 40 I steered to
the southeast and held that direction until the morning of the fifth
day, when we began to sight many derelicts. My guest understood the
purport of this quite as well as I did. He knew we were nearing the
Sargasso Sea, that great assemblage of seaweed and floating hulks
that for centuries has been accumulating in the eternal calm of the
mid-Atlantic.
The gazetteers define the geographical limits of the Sargasso Sea
as included between 22 degrees and 28 degrees north latitude and
25 degrees and 60 degrees longitude west of Greenwich. In area,
therefore, it equals about 200,000 square miles, only slightly
less than that occupied by the State of Texas. Its position varies
somewhat from year to year, navigators maintaining that the floating
continent, under the influence of a deflected African current, is
brought several hundred miles nearer to the Azores some years than
others.
I am not prepared to deny this, though I believe the extent of the
change is exaggerated.
Being the navigating officer, as well as captain of the Caribas,
I felt considerable responsibility in taking my vessel into this
uncharted part of the Atlantic. The official Admiralty chart, as well
as that supplied by our Navy Department, indicated open water in all
that vast stretch between the Azores and Bermuda. But already large
masses of floating sod, composed of matted and interlaced trees and
seaweed, were within sight. I remembered the story of the ancient
Argonauts, who sailed in the first tramp voyage to Colchis, and who
encountered islands that “clapped together with the swell of the
tide!” In the Sargasso Sea I found a veritable realization of that
statement in the watery lanes that separated islands of seaweed. They
were constantly varying in width. I was, naturally, very wary of
penetrating any of these narrow sounds, for fear that the adjacent
islands might close together and cut off my retreat.
A cast of the lead showed great depth. To anchor was impossible. I
admit, however, that the thoughts of abandoned wealth to be found
aboard the thousand floating craft of the Sargasso Sea appealed to my
cupidity so strongly that, after a day’s deliberation, I made fast to
a great, rolling hulk that had once been a full-rigged ship. She was
badly water-logged and had listed to an angle of 25 degrees.
The sun rose above the eastern horizon with great splendor on the
following morning. The sky was clear and almost golden-hued. I was
called on deck by the first mate because of the report from a man
at the masthead, who had been sent aloft with a good glass to make
a survey of the surrounding ocean. The mate first brought to my
attention a wonderful mirage that appeared just above the horizon.
I had never before observed a mirage in the eastern sky, and had
supposed that it was only possible for the setting sun to produce
it. But on this occasion all my experience was swept aside, and
we saw plainly in the sky an assemblage of vessels, of all sizes
and conditions, each separated by a narrow strip of green sod, so
arranged that they might not crash together and destroy each other.
The masts were still standing on some, but in most cases these were
utterly gone. I cannot describe at this time the thrill of curiosity
with which I scrutinized the strange discovery. There was a semblance
of order regarding the arrangement of the ships that promptly
suggested to my active imagination the presence of a directing human
intelligence. But I said nothing to the mate on that subject.
We were joined at the bow by my passenger, Arthur Gray, who was in an
almost uncontrollable condition of enthusiasm. He had been talking
with the man from the masthead, and added to our information the
startling declaration of the lookout that he had descried moving
objects in the City of Ships!
If I had been lukewarm before; if I had hesitated regarding the
exploration of the mysterious region, my mind was brought to an
abrupt and decisive conclusion by this statement. I ran up the
rattlings to the masthead and was greatly astonished at what I
beheld. About thirty miles to the southeast was clearly to be seen
the same congregation of vessels reflected in the sky and already
described by the man who had been aloft.
Then and there I resolved to accept the proposition of Arthur Gray to
enter his launch and go on a voyage of exploration.
Committing the care of the Caribas to my first mate and taking
my quadrant, one of the ship’s chronometers and several days’
provisions, I prepared to enter the launch as soon as it was ready.
A derrick was rigged from the foremast, and the stanch little craft
was soon hoisted over the ship’s side with the aid of a steam
windlass. Meanwhile, all the oil tanks in the launch had been filled,
and, adding a water cask, we were soon ready.
Fully expecting to return within forty-eight hours, I merely gave the
first officer general directions regarding the care of the ship. I
told him to keep the men employed with the tar bucket and the holy
stone. On leaving I saluted the first mate.
The second mate stood at the ladder and touched his cap as I
descended. He evidently had a premonition of coming trouble, and was
so far guilty of a breach of discipline as to suggest that he be
allowed to accompany me upon my hazardous journey. I replied with a
frown and a shake of the head.
Without any suggestion from the owner of the launch, I took my seat
at the tiller, while Gray looked after the engine. Despite the rigid
discipline maintained aboard the Caribas, the entire ship’s company,
except those actually engaged in scrubbing the deck, assembled at the
bulwarks to watch our departure. I confess that I was rather pleased
than annoyed at this.
It touched my vanity, as I suppose it would have awakened that
feeling in any man.
We got under headway about 9 o’clock and made for the first broad
canal we discovered. While at the masthead I had attempted to follow
this channel with my glass, just as I might have traced the sinuous
windings of a sluggish stream through a grassy meadow; but I had not
been able to outline its course beyond a few miles, because of the
height of the brushwood, covered with its parasitic growth of plants.
We steamed along gayly under full headway for about an hour, doing
about eight miles, I should say, because of our heavy load, and
although the channel we navigated varied greatly in width at places,
it was broad enough at all points to have admitted the Caribas. The
average width of the passage was about that of the Grand Canal at
Venice, and though its convolutions were more numerous, we had no
trouble in following the main channel.
As we penetrated farther and farther into this great mass of floating
herbage, I was particularly struck with the strange mental effect
produced upon me by the rise and fall of the ocean swell underneath
the overlying mass. For the first time in my life I felt a sense of
dizziness and seasickness. To the eye it was much the same as if in
the midst of a far-reaching prairie one should find the land heaving
and sinking in long undulations.