Thrilling Stories Of The Ocean written by Marmaduke Park
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Marmaduke Park >> Thrilling Stories Of The Ocean
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9 [Illustration: THE WHITE SHARK.]
THRILLING
STORIES OF THE OCEAN.
FROM AUTHENTIC ACCOUNTS OF MODERN
VOYAGERS AND TRAVELLERS;
DESIGNED FOR THE
ENTERTAINMENT AND INSTRUCTION
OF
YOUNG PEOPLE.
BY MARMADUKE PARK.
With Numerous Illustrations.
PHILADELPHIA:
C.G. HENDERSON & CO.,
NO. 164 CHESTNUT STREET.
1852.
[Illustration: THE WHITE SHARK]
STORIES OF THE OCEAN.
VOLNEY BECKNER.
The white sharks are the dread of sailors in all hot climates, for they
constantly attend vessels in expectation of anything which may be thrown
overboard. A shark will thus sometimes traverse the ocean in company
with a ship for several hundred leagues. Woe to the poor mariner who
may chance to fall overboard while this sea-monster is present.
Some species of sharks grow to an enormous size, often weighing from one
to four thousand pounds each. The skin of the shark is rough, and is
used for polishing wood, ivory, &c.; that of one species is manufactured
into an article called _agreen_: spectacle-cases are made of it. The
white shark is the sailor's worst enemy: he has five rows of
wedge-shaped teeth, which are notched like a saw: when the animal is at
rest they are flat in his mouth, but when about to seize his prey they
are erected by a set of muscles which join them to the jaw. His mouth is
so situated under the head that he is obliged to turn himself on one
side before he can grasp any thing with those enormous jaws.
I will now give you an account of the death of a very brave little boy,
who was killed by a shark. He was an Irish boy; his name was Volney
Beckner, the son of a poor fisherman. His father, having always intended
Volney for a seafaring life, took great pains to teach him such things
as it is useful for a sailor to know, and tried to make him brave and
hardy; he taught him to swim when a mere baby.
[Illustration: VOLNEY BECKNER'S FIRST VOYAGE.]
Volney was only nine years old when he first went to sea in a merchant
ship; the same vessel in which his father sometimes sailed. Here he
worked hard and fared hard, but this gave him no uneasiness; his frame
was robust, he never took cold, he knew not what fear was.
[Illustration: VOLNEY BECKNER AT SEA.]
In the most boisterous weather, when the rain fell in torrents, and the
wind howled around the ship, the little Irish boy would fearlessly and
cheerfully climb the stays and sailyards, mount the topmast, or perform
any other duty required of him. At twelve years old the captain promoted
the clever, good tempered, and trustworthy boy; spoke well of him before
the whole crew, and doubled his pay.
Volney was very sensible to his praises. His messmates loved him for his
generous nature, and because he had often shown himself ready to brave
danger in order to assist them; but an occasion soon arrived in which he
had an opportunity of performing one of the most truly heroic deeds on
record.
The vessel in which Volney and his father sailed was bound to Port au
Prince, in St. Domingo. A little girl, the daughter of one of the
passengers, having slipped away from her nurse, ran on deck to amuse
herself. While gazing on the expanse of water, the heaving of the vessel
made her dizzy, and she fell overboard.
Volney's father saw the accident, darted after her, and quickly caught
her by the dress; but while with one hand he swam to reach the ship, and
with the other held the child, he saw a shark advancing towards them. He
called aloud for help; there was no time to lose, yet none dared to
afford him any. No one, did I say? Yes, little Volney, prompted by
filial love, ventured on a deed which strong men dared not attempt.
Armed with a broad, sharp sabre, he threw himself into the sea, then
diving like a fish under the shark, he stabbed the weapon into his body
up to the hilt. Thus wounded the shark quitted his prey, and turned on
the boy, who again and again attacked him with the sabre, but the
struggle was too unequal; ropes were quickly thrown from the deck to the
father and son; each succeeded in grasping one, and loud rose the cry of
joy, "They are saved!" Not so! The shark, enraged at seeing that he was
about to be altogether disappointed of his prey, made one desperate
spring, and tore asunder the body of the noble-hearted little boy, while
his father and the fainting child in his arms were saved.
[Illustration: THE POULTRY BASKET--A LIFE-PRESERVER.]
THE POULTRY BASKET--A LIFE-PRESERVER.
I will tell you an old story of an incident which occurred many years
ago, but perhaps it may be new to you, and please you as much as it did
me when I was a little girl, and used to sit on my grandpapa's knee, and
listen to this tale among many others.
The hero of my story was a countryman; you may, if you please, fancy his
neat white cottage on the hill-side, with its rustic porch, all
overgrown with jasmine, roses, and clematis; the pretty garden and
orchard belonging to it, with the snug poultry yard, the shed for the
cow, and the stack of food for winter's use on one side.
[Illustration: THE POULTRY YARD.]
You may fancy the pleasure of the little children who lived at this
cottage in going with their mother morning and evening to feed the
poultry; the noise and bustle among the feathered tribe at this time;
how some rudely push before and peck the others in their anxiety to
obtain the first grains that fall from the basket, and how the little
children take care that the most greedy shall not get it all; their joy
at seeing the young broods of tiny chicks covered with downy feathers,
and the anxiety of the hens each to protect her own from danger, and
teach them to scratch and pick up food for themselves; while they never
forget to admire and praise the beauty of the fine old cock, as he
struts about with an air of magnificence, like the very king of the
guard.
"High was his comb, and coral red withal,
In dents embattled like a castle wall;
His bill was raven-black and shone like jet,
Blue were his legs, and orient were his feet;
White were his nails, like silver to behold!
His body glittering like burnished gold."
If you had been there, you would have wished to visit the little
orchard; to see the gentle cow, and the geese feeding on the common
beyond; to watch the young ducklings, dipping and ducking and enjoying
their watering sport in the pond.
If it be spring, the children would delight in gathering the
sweet-scented meadow flowers--the water ranunculus, with its golden
cups, the modest daisy, the pink cuckoo-flower, and the yellow cowslips;
while overhead the bees kept up a constant humming; they have found
their way from the straw hives in the garden and are diving into the
delicious blossoms of the apple and cherry trees, robbing many a one of
its sweets.
[Illustration: THE BEE HIVE.]
But now to my history of what did really happen to a countryman, who
very likely lived in such a pretty cottage as I have described.
He had more poultry in his yard than he needed for his own use; some of
them had been fatted for sale; and wishing to turn them into money, he
left his home, which was near Bristol, with a basket full of them on his
arm. Having reached the river, he went on board the ferry boat,
intending to go across to a place called Bristol Hot-Wells. Many gentle
folks visit this spot for the sake of drinking the waters of the wells,
which are thought to be very beneficial in some complaints; and no doubt
our countryman hoped that among them his poultry would fetch a good
price.
The ferry boat was nearly half way over the river, when, by some
accident, the poor man lost his footing and fell into the stream; he
could not swim, and the current carried him more than a hundred yards
from the boat; but he kept fast hold of his poultry basket, which being
buoyant, supported him until he was perceived, and rescued by some men
in a fishing-smack.
I hope he reached the Hot-Wells in safety after all, and sold his
poultry for as much as he expected; and, what is still better, that his
heart was filled with gratitude to God for his preservation from danger
so imminent.
[Illustration: THE LIFE BOAT.]
THE LIFE BOAT.
Oh what a stirring scene is this! see how the brave fellows are pulling
with their oars, and endeavoring with all their might to reach the ship
in distress before it is too late! Well, I suppose you are curious to
know how an open boat like this can float in such an angry, boiling sea.
I will tell you how it is accomplished; the sides of the boat are lined
with hollow boxes of copper, which being perfectly air-tight, render her
buoyant, even when full of water, or loaded to the very water's edge.
The originator of this simple and beautiful contrivance was a London
coach maker, named Lionel Lukin, a man whose benevolent feelings flowed
towards all his fellow men, but more especially towards that portion of
them who brave the dangers of the sea. After devoting sixty years of his
life to the pursuits of his business, he retired to Hythe in Kent, where
he finished a well-spent life in peace and tranquility, dying in
February, 1834. His body was interred in the churchyard of Hythe, which
is situated on rising ground, commanding a fine view of the ocean; a fit
resting place for the remains of one whose talents had been successfully
directed to the means of rescuing from shipwreck and a watery grave many
hundreds, or perhaps we may say many thousands, of poor seamen. He
obtained a patent for his first boat in 1785.
The two sailors in the picture below are Greenwich pensioners,
supported, you know, at Greenwich Hospital, which was founded by Charles
II. for superannuated or wounded sailors. They are smoking their pipes,
and discussing the merits of the Life Boat.
[Illustration: THE WHALE.]
WHALE FISHING.
The whale is the largest of all known animals. There are three kinds of
whale; the Greenland, called by the sailors the right whale, as being
most highly prized by them; the great northern rorqual, called by
fishers the razor-back or finner, and the cachalot or spermaciti whale.
The common whale measures from sixty to seventy feet in length: the
mouth, when open, is large enough to admit a ship's jolly boat, with all
her men in it. It contains no teeth; and enormous as the creature is,
the opening to the throat is very narrow, not more than an inch and a
half across in the largest whale.
[Illustration: WHALE FISHING]
Instead of teeth the mouth of the whale is furnished with a curious
framework of a substance called _baleen_; you will know it by the name
of whalebone; it is arranged in rows, and projects beyond the lips in a
hanging fringe; the food of the whale consists of shrimps, small fishes,
sea-snails, and innumerable minute creatures, called medusae, which are
found in those seas where the whales feed in such vast quantities that
they make the water of a deep green or olive color.
When feeding the whale swims with open mouth under the water, and all
the objects which lie in the way of that great moving cavern are caught
by the baleen, and never seen again. Along with their food they swallow
a vast quantity of water, which passes back again through the nostrils,
and is collected into a bag placed at the external orifice of the cavity
of the nose, whence it is expelled by the pressure of powerful muscles
through a very narrow opening pierced in the top of the head.
[Illustration: THE CACHALOT]
In this way it spouts the water in beautiful jets from twenty to thirty
feet in height. The voice of the whale is like a low murmuring: it has a
smooth skin all over its body, under which lies that thick lard which
yields the oil for which they are so much sought. The Greenland whale
has but two side-fins; its tail is in the shape of a crescent; it is an
instrument of immense power; it has been sometimes known with one stroke
to hurl large boats high into the air, breaking them into a thousand
fragments. The whale shows great affection for her young, which is
called the calf; the fishermen well know this, and turn it to their own
account; they try to strike the young with the harpoon, which is a
strong, barbed instrument, and if they do this they are almost sure of
securing the mother also, as nothing will induce her to leave it.
Mr. Scorseby, who was for a long time engaged in the whale fishery, has
written a book containing a very interesting account of them. He
mentions a case in which a young whale was struck beside its dam. She
instantly seized and darted off with it, but not until the line had been
fixed to its body. In spite of all that could be done to her, she
remained near her dying little one, till she was struck again and again,
and thus both perished. Sometimes, however, on an occasion like this,
the old whale becomes furious, and then the danger to the men is very
great, as they attack the whale in boats, several of which belong to
each ship.
A number of these boats once made towards a whale, which, with her calf
was playing round a group of rocks. The old whale perceiving the
approaching danger, did all she could to warn her little one of it, till
the sight became quite affecting. She led it away from the boats, swam
round it, embraced it with her fins, and sometimes rolled over with it
in the waves.
The men in the boats now rowed a-head of the whales, and drove them back
among the rocks, at which the mother evinced great uneasiness and
anxiety; she swam round and round the young one in lessening circles;
but all her care was unheeded, and the inexperienced calf soon met its
fate. It was struck and killed, and a harpoon fixed in the mother, when,
roused to reckless fury, she flew on one of the boats, and made her tail
descend with such tremendous force on the very centre of it, as to cut
it in two, and kill two of the men, the rest swimming in all directions
for their lives.
[Illustration: A SHIP TOWED TO LAND BY BULLOCKS.]
SHIP TOWED TO LAND BY BULLOCKS
Swimming is a manly exercise, and one in which, under proper care, every
little boy ought to be instructed. In the first place it is a very
healthy and invigorating practice frequently to immerse the body in
water: and when we recollect how often the knowledge of this art has
been blessed by the Supreme Disposer of events as a means of saving his
rational creatures from sudden death, it seems that to neglect this
object is almost to refuse to avail ourselves of one of the means of
safety, which a kind Providence has placed within our reach.
Only imagine yourself to be, as many before you have been, in a
situation of pressing danger on the sea, and yet at no great distance
from the land, so that you might hope to reach it by swimming, but to
remain on board the vessel appeared certain death, how thankful you
would then feel to your friends if they had put this means of escape
into your power! Or if you were to see some unfortunate fellow-creature
struggling in the water, and about to disappear from your sight, how
willingly, if conscious of your own power to support yourself, would you
plunge into the water to his rescue! and how would your heart glow with
delight if your efforts to save him should prove successful!
Here is a picture representing the very remarkable preservation of the
crew of a vessel on the coast of Newfoundland. In this instance man
availed himself of the instinct which ever prompts the brute creation to
self-preservation. The ship was freighted with live cattle; in a
dreadful storm she was dismasted, and became a mere wreck. The crew
being unable to manage her, it occurred to the captain, whose name was
Drummond, as a last resort, to attach some ropes to the horns of some of
the bullocks, and turn them into the sea. This was done, the bullocks
swam towards land and towed the ship to the shore. Thus the lives of the
crew were saved.
THE SINKING OF THE ROYAL GEORGE.
The Royal George was an old ship; she had seen much service. Her build
was rather short and high, but she sailed well, and carried the tallest
masts and squarest canvas of any of England's gun-ships. She had just
returned from Spithead, where there were twenty or thirty ships of war,
called a fleet, lying under command of Lord Howe. It was on the 29th of
August, 1782. She was lying off Portsmouth; her decks had been washed
the day before, and the carpenter discovered that the pipes which
admitted water to cleanse the ship was worn out, and must be replaced.
This pipe being three feet under the water, it was needful to heel, or
lay the ship a little on one side. To do this, the heavy guns on the
larboard side were run out of the port-holes (those window-like openings
which you see in the side of the vessel) as far as they would go, and
the guns on the starboard side were drawn up and secured in the middle
of the deck; this brought the sills of the port-holes on the lowest side
nearly even with the water.
[Illustration: SINKING OF THE ROYAL GEORGE.]
Just as the crew had finished breakfast, a vessel called the Lark came
on the low side of the ship to unship a cargo of rum; the casks were put
on board on that side, and this additional weight, together with that of
the men employed in unloading, caused the ship to heel still more on one
side; every wave of the sea now washed in at her port-holes, and thus
she had soon so great a weight of water in her hold, that slowly and
almost imperceptibly she sank still further down on her side. Twice, the
carpenter, seeing the danger, went on board to ask the officer on duty
to order the ship to be righted; and if he had not been a proud and
angry man, who would not acknowledge himself to be in the wrong, all
might yet have been well.
The plumbers had almost finished their work, when a sudden breeze blew
on the raised side of the ship, forced her still further down, and the
water began to pour into her lower port-holes. Instantly the danger
became apparent; the men were ordered to right the ship: they ran to
move the guns for this purpose, but it was _too late_.
In a minute or two more, she fell quite over on her side, with her masts
nearly flat on the water, and the Royal George sank to the bottom,
before one signal of distress could be given! By this dreadful accident,
about nine hundred persons lost their lives; about two hundred and
thirty were saved, some by running up the rigging, and being with others
picked up by the boats which put off immediately from other vessels to
their assistance. There were many visitors, women and little children on
board at the time of the accident.
BLOWING UP OF THE ROYAL GEORGE.
At the time when the dreadful event which I have just related to you
occurred, the Lark sloop, which brought the cargo of rum, was lying
alongside of the Royal George; in going down, the main-yard of the Royal
George caught the boom of the Lark, and they sank together, but this
made the position of the Royal George much more upright in the water
than it would otherwise have been. There she lay at the bottom of the
sea, just as you have seen small vessels when left by the tide on a
bank. Cowper, when he heard the sad tale, thus wrote
"Her timbers yet are sound,
And she may float again,
Full charged with England's thunder,
And plough the distant main.
"But Kempenfelt is gone,
His victories are o'er,
And he, and his eight hundred
Shall plough the wave no more."
Admiral Kempenfelt was writing in his cabin when the ship sank; his
first captain tried to inform him of their situation, but the heeling of
the ship so jammed the cabin doors that he could not open them: thus the
admiral perished with the rest. It seems Cowper thought the Royal George
might be recovered; other people were of the same opinion.
[Illustration: BLOWING UP OF THE ROYAL GEORGE.]
In September of the year in which the vessel sank, a gentleman, named
Tracey, living in the neighborhood, by means of diving-machines,
ascertained the position and state of the ship, and made proposals to
government to adopt means of raising her and getting her again afloat.
After a great many vexatious delays and interruptions on the part of
those who were to have supplied him with assistance, he succeeded in
getting up the Lark sloop. His efforts to raise the Royal George were so
far successful, that at every time of high tide she was lifted from her
bed; and on the 9th of October she was hove at least thirty or forty
feet to westward; but the days were getting short, the boisterous winds
of winter were setting in, the lighters to which Tracey's apparatus was
attached were too old and rotten to bear the strain, and he was forced
to abandon the attempt.
The sunken ship remained, a constant impediment to other vessels wishing
to cast anchor near the spot, for nearly fifty years, when Colonel
Pasley, by means of gunpowder, completely demolished the wreck: the
loose pieces of timber floated to the surface; heavier pieces--the
ship's guns, cables, anchors, the fire-hearth, cooking utensils, and
many smaller articles were recovered by the divers. These men went down
in Indian-rubber dresses, which were air and water-tight; they were
furnished with helmets, in each side of which were glass windows, to
admit light, and supplied with air by means of pipes, communicating with
an air-pump above. By these means they could remain under water more
than an hour at a time. I do not think you are old enough to understand
the nature of Colonel Pasley's operations. Large hollow vessels, called
cylinders, were filled with gunpowder, and attached by the divers to the
wreck, these were connected by conducting wires with a battery on board
a lighter above, at a sufficient distance to be out of reach of danger
when the explosion took place. Colonel Pasley then gave the word to fire
the end of the rod; instantly a report was heard, and those who
witnessed the explosions, say that the effect was very beautiful. On
one occasion, the water rose in a splendid column above fifty feet high,
the spray sparkling like diamonds in the sun; then the large fragments
of the wreck came floating to the surface; soon after the mud from the
bottom, blackening the circle of water, and spreading to a great
distance around; and with it rose to the surface great numbers of fish,
who, poor things, had found a hiding-place in the wreck, but were
dislodged and killed by the terrible gunpowder.
[Illustration: LOSS OF THE MELVILLE CASTLE.]
LOSS OF THE MELVILLE CASTLE.
Many and great are the dangers to which those who lead a seafaring life
are exposed. The lightning's flash may strike a ship when far away from
port, upon the trackless deep, or the sudden bursting of a particular
kind of cloud, called a waterspout, may overwhelm her, and none be left
to tell her fate. But of all the perils to which a ship is liable, I
think that of her striking on a sand-bank, or on sunken rocks is the
greatest. There must be men and women now living on the Kentish coast,
in whose memory the disastrous wreck of the Melville Castle, with all
its attendant horrors, is yet fresh. It is a sorrowful tale, doubly so,
inasmuch as acts of imprudence, and still worse, of obstinacy, may be
said to have occasioned the loss of four hundred and fifty lives.
In the first place, the Melville Castle, or as I suppose we should call
her the Vryheid, was in a very decayed state; she had been long in the
East India Company's service, and was by them sold to some Dutch
merchants, who had her upper works tolerably repaired, new sheathed and
coppered her, and resold her to the Dutch government, who were then in
want of a vessel to carry out troops and stores to Batavia.
The Melville Castle was accordingly equipped for the voyage, painted
throughout, and her name changed to the Vryheid. On the the morning of
November, 1802, she set sail from the Texel, a port on the coast of
Holland, with a fair wind, which lasted till early on the following day,
when a heavy gale came on in an adverse direction.
The captain immediately had the top-gallant masts and yards struck to
make her ride more easily; but as the day advanced, the violence of the
wind increased, and vain seemed every effort of the crew to manage the
ship. There were many mothers and little children on board, whose state
was truly pitiable. The ship was scourged onward by the resistless
blast, which continued to increase until it blew a perfect hurricane.
About three in the afternoon, the mainmast fell overboard, sweeping
several of the crew into the sea, and severely injuring four or five
more. By this time they were near enough to the Kentish coast to discern
objects on land, but the waves which rolled mountains high prevented the
possibility of any help approaching. By great exertion the ship was
brought to anchor in Hythe Bay, and for a few moments hope cheered the
bosoms of those on board; it was _but_ a few, for almost immediately
she was found to have sprung a leak; and while all hands were busy at
the pumps, the storm came on with increased fury.
In this dismal plight they continued till about six o'clock the
following morning, when the ship parted from one of her largest anchors,
and drifted on towards Dymchurch-wall, about three miles to the west of
Hythe. This wall is formed by immense piles, and cross pieces of timber,
supported by wooden jetties, which stretch far into the sea. It was
built to prevent the water from overflowing a rich, level district,
called Romney Marsh.
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