A Shifting Reef

The year 1866 was signalised by a remarkable incident, a mysterious and puzzling phenomenon, which doubtless no one has yet forgotten. Not to mention rumours which agitated the maritime population and excited the public mind, even in the interior of continents, seafaring men were particularly excited. Merchants, common sailors, captains of vessels, skippers, both of Europe and America, naval officers of all countries, and the Governments of several states on the two continents, were deeply interested in the matter.

The year 1866 was marked by a remarkable incident, a mysterious and puzzling phenomenon that surely no one has forgotten. Rumors stirred up coastal communities and excited people even deep inland. But seafarers were especially excited. Merchants, ordinary sailors, captains, and skippers in Europe and America were deeply interested in the matter. So were naval officers from all countries and the governments of several states on both continents.

For some time past, vessels had been met by “an enormous thing,” a long object, spindle-shaped, occasionally phosphorescent, and infinitely larger and more rapid in its movements than a whale.

For some time, ships had encountered “an enormous thing.” It was a long, spindle-shaped object that sometimes glowed. It was infinitely larger and faster than a whale.

The facts relating to this apparition (entered in various log-books) agreed in most respects as to the shape of the object or creature in question, the untiring rapidity of its movements, its surprising power of locomotion, and the peculiar life with which it seemed endowed. If it was a cetacean, it surpassed in size all those hitherto classified in science. Taking into consideration the mean of observations made at divers times,—rejecting the timid estimate of those who assigned to this object a length of two hundred feet, equally with the exaggerated opinions which set it down as a mile in width and three in length,—we might fairly conclude that this mysterious being surpassed greatly all dimensions admitted by the ichthyologists of the day, if it existed at all. And that it did exist was an undeniable fact; and, with that tendency which disposes the human mind in favour of the marvellous, we can understand the excitement produced in the entire world by this supernatural apparition. As to classing it in the list of fables, the idea was out of the question.

The accounts of this apparition, recorded in various logbooks, agreed on most points. They described the shape of the object or creature, its tireless speed, its astonishing ability to move, and the strange life it seemed to possess. If it was a cetacean, it was larger than any previously classified by science. Observers had estimated its size at different times. Some cautiously put its length at two hundred feet. Others exaggerated, claiming it was a mile wide and three miles long. Setting both estimates aside and averaging the observations, we might reasonably draw one conclusion. If this mysterious being existed, it was far larger than any creature recognized by the ichthyologists of the day. And its existence was an undeniable fact. Given the human tendency to believe in the marvelous, we can understand the excitement this supernatural apparition caused worldwide. Dismissing it as a fable was out of the question.

On the 20th of July, 1866, the steamer Governor Higginson, of the Calcutta and Burnach Steam Navigation Company, had met this moving mass five miles off the east coast of Australia. Captain Baker thought at first that he was in the presence of an unknown sandbank; he even prepared to determine its exact position, when two columns of water, projected by the inexplicable object, shot with a hissing noise a hundred and fifty feet up into the air. Now, unless the sandbank had been submitted to the intermittent eruption of a geyser, the Governor Higginson had to do neither more nor less than with an aquatic mammal, unknown till then, which threw up from its blow-holes columns of water mixed with air and vapour.

On July 20, 1866, the steamer Governor Higginson encountered this moving mass five miles off the east coast of Australia. The steamer belonged to the Calcutta and Burnach Steam Navigation Company. Captain Baker first thought he had come across an unknown sandbank. He even prepared to determine its exact position. Then the mysterious object sent two columns of water hissing 150 feet into the air. Unless the sandbank had been subject to intermittent eruptions from a geyser, the Governor Higginson had encountered an aquatic mammal unknown until then. The animal was shooting columns of water mixed with air and vapor from its blowholes.

Similar facts were observed on the 23rd of July in the same year, in the Pacific Ocean, by the Columbus, of the West India and Pacific Steam Navigation Company. But this extraordinary cetaceous creature could transport itself from one place to another with surprising velocity; as, in an interval of three days, the Governor Higginson and the Columbus had observed it at two different points of the chart, separated by a distance of more than seven hundred nautical leagues.

On July 23 of the same year, the Columbus, of the West India and Pacific Steam Navigation Company, reported similar sightings in the Pacific Ocean. But this extraordinary whale-like creature could travel from one place to another with surprising speed. Within three days, the Governor Higginson and the Columbus had seen it at two points on the map, more than seven hundred nautical leagues apart.

Fifteen days later, two thousand miles farther off, the Helvetia, of the Compagnie-Nationale, and the Shannon, of the Royal Mail Steamship Company, sailing to windward in that portion of the Atlantic lying between the United States and Europe, respectively signalled the monster to each other in 42° 15′ N. lat. and 60° 35′ W. long. In these simultaneous observations they thought themselves justified in estimating the minimum length of the mammal at more than three hundred and fifty feet, as the Shannon and Helvetia were of smaller dimensions than it, though they measured three hundred feet over all.

Fifteen days later, two thousand miles away, the Helvetia of the Compagnie-Nationale and the Shannon of the Royal Mail Steamship Company were sailing into the wind. They were in the Atlantic between the United States and Europe. Each ship signaled the other that it had sighted the monster at 42° 15′ N. latitude and 60° 35′ W. longitude. Based on these simultaneous sightings, they felt justified in estimating the mammal’s minimum length at over 350 feet. The Shannon and Helvetia were smaller than the mammal, though each measured 300 feet from end to end.

Now the largest whales, those which frequent those parts of the sea round the Aleutian, Kulammak, and Umgullich islands, have never exceeded the length of sixty yards, if they attain that.

The largest whales live in the seas around the Aleutian, Kulammak, and Umgullich islands. They have never exceeded sixty yards in length, if they even reach that length.

These reports arriving one after the other, with fresh observations made on board the transatlantic ship Pereire, a collision which occurred between the Etna of the Inman line and the monster, a procès verbal directed by the officers of the French frigate Normandie, a very accurate survey made by the staff of Commodore Fitz-James on board the Lord Clyde, greatly influenced public opinion. Light-thinking people jested upon the phenomenon, but grave practical countries, such as England, America, and Germany, treated the matter more seriously.

These reports arrived one after another, along with fresh observations from aboard the transatlantic ship Pereire. The Etna of the Inman line also collided with the monster. Officers of the French frigate Normandie drew up an official report. Commodore Fitz-James’s staff made a very accurate survey aboard the Lord Clyde. All this greatly influenced public opinion. Lighthearted people joked about the phenomenon, but serious, practical countries like England, America, and Germany treated it more seriously.

In every place of great resort the monster was the fashion. They sang of it in the cafés, ridiculed it in the papers, and represented it on the stage. All kinds of stories were circulated regarding it. There appeared in the papers caricatures of every gigantic and imaginary creature, from the white whale, the terrible “Moby Dick” of hyperborean regions, to the immense kraken whose tentacles could entangle a ship of five hundred tons, and hurry it into the abyss of the ocean. The legends of ancient times were even resuscitated, and the opinions of Aristotle and Pliny revived, who admitted the existence of these monsters, as well as the Norwegian tales of Bishop Pontoppidan, the accounts of Paul Heggede, and, last of all, the reports of Mr. Harrington (whose good faith no one could suspect), who affirmed that, being on board the Castillan, in 1857, he had seen this enormous serpent, which had never until that time frequented any other seas but those of the ancient “Constitutionnel.”

Everywhere people gathered, the monster was all the rage. They sang about it in cafés, mocked it in newspapers, and put it on stage. All kinds of stories circulated about it. Newspapers printed caricatures of every kind of gigantic imaginary creature. These ranged from the white whale, the terrible “Moby Dick” of the far north, to the immense kraken. The kraken’s tentacles could entangle a five-hundred-ton ship and drag it into the depths of the ocean. Even ancient legends were brought back to life. People revived the opinions of Aristotle and Pliny, who accepted that such monsters existed. They also recalled the Norwegian tales of Bishop Pontoppidan and the accounts of Paul Heggede. Finally, there were the reports of Mr. Harrington, whose honesty no one could question. He said he had seen this enormous serpent aboard the Castillan in 1857. Until then, the serpent had never appeared in any seas except those of the old “Constitutionnel.”

Then burst forth the interminable controversy between the credulous and the incredulous in the societies of savants and the scientific journals. “The question of the monster” inflamed all minds. Editors of scientific journals, quarrelling with believers in the supernatural, spilled seas of ink during this memorable campaign, some even drawing blood; for, from the sea-serpent they came to direct personalities.

Then an endless debate broke out between believers and skeptics in scientific societies and journals. “The question of the monster” stirred everyone up. Editors of scientific journals quarreled with believers in the supernatural and spilled oceans of ink during this memorable campaign. Some even drew blood, for the argument over the sea serpent turned into personal attacks.

For six months war was waged with various fortune in the leading articles of the Geographical Institution of Brazil, the Royal Academy of Science of Berlin, the British Association, the Smithsonian Institution of Washington, in the discussions of the “Indian Archipelago,” of the Cosmos of the Abbé Moigno, in the Mittheilungen of Petermann, in the scientific chronicles of the great journals of France and other countries. The cheaper journals replied keenly and with inexhaustible zest. These satirical writers parodied a remark of Linnæus, quoted by the adversaries of the monster, maintaining “that nature did not make fools,” and adjured their contemporaries not to give the lie to nature, by admitting the existence of krakens, sea-serpents, “Moby Dicks,” and other lucubrations of delirious sailors. At length an article in a well-known satirical journal by a favourite contributor, the chief of the staff, settled the monster, like Hippolytus, giving it the death-blow amidst an universal burst of laughter. Wit had conquered science.

For six months, the debate raged, with neither side consistently winning. It filled leading articles from the Geographical Institution of Brazil, the Royal Academy of Science of Berlin, the British Association, and the Smithsonian Institution of Washington. It appeared in the discussions of the “Indian Archipelago,” in the Cosmos of the Abbé Moigno, and in Petermann’s Mittheilungen. It also appeared in the science columns of major newspapers in France and other countries. Cheaper newspapers answered sharply and with tireless enthusiasm. Opponents of the monster quoted a remark by Linnæus, “that nature did not make fools.” Satirical writers parodied it and urged their contemporaries not to contradict nature. They warned them not to believe in krakens, sea-serpents, “Moby Dicks,” and other fantasies of delirious sailors. At last, an article in a well-known satirical journal settled the monster’s fate, like that of Hippolytus. Its author was a favorite contributor and the head of the staff. He dealt the monster its death blow amid a universal burst of laughter. Wit had conquered science.

During the first months of the year 1867 the question seemed buried, never to revive, when new facts were brought before the public. It was then no longer a scientific problem to be solved, but a real danger seriously to be avoided. The question took quite another shape. The monster became a small island, a rock, a reef, but a reef of indefinite and shifting proportions.

During the first months of 1867, the question seemed buried for good. Then new facts came to light. The question was no longer a scientific problem to solve, but a real danger to avoid. It had taken a very different shape. The monster became a small island, a rock, a reef, but a reef of uncertain and changing size.

On the 5th of March, 1867, the Moravian, of the Montreal Ocean Company, finding herself during the night in 27° 30′ lat. and 72° 15′ long., struck on her starboard quarter a rock, marked in no chart for that part of the sea. Under the combined efforts of the wind and its four hundred horse-power, it was going at the rate of thirteen knots. Had it not been for the superior strength of the hull of the Moravian, she would have been broken by the shock and gone down with the 237 passengers she was bringing home from Canada.

On the night of March 5, 1867, the Moravian of the Montreal Ocean Company was at 27° 30′ latitude and 72° 15′ longitude. It struck a rock on its starboard quarter. The rock was not marked on any chart of that part of the sea. Driven by the wind and its 400-horsepower engine, the ship was traveling at thirteen knots. If the hull of the Moravian had not been exceptionally strong, the impact would have broken the ship apart. It would have sunk with the 237 passengers it was bringing home from Canada.

The accident happened about five o’clock in the morning, as the day was breaking. The officers of the quarter-deck hurried to the after-part of the vessel. They examined the sea with the most scrupulous attention. They saw nothing but a strong eddy about three cables’ length distant, as if the surface had been violently agitated. The bearings of the place were taken exactly, and the Moravian continued its route without apparent damage. Had it struck on a submerged rock, or on an enormous wreck? they could not tell; but on examination of the ship’s bottom when undergoing repairs, it was found that part of her keel was broken.

The accident happened around five in the morning, as day was breaking. The officers on the quarterdeck hurried to the back of the vessel. They examined the sea very carefully. They saw nothing but a strong whirlpool about three cable lengths away, as if the water had been violently disturbed. They recorded the exact location, and the Moravian continued on its course with no apparent damage. They could not tell whether it had struck a submerged rock or an enormous wreck. But when the ship was later examined during repairs, part of its keel was found to be broken.

This fact, so grave in itself, might perhaps have been forgotten like many others if, three weeks after, it had not been re-enacted under similar circumstances. But, thanks to the nationality of the victim of the shock, thanks to the reputation of the company to which the vessel belonged, the circumstance became extensively circulated.

This incident was serious in itself, but it might have been forgotten like many others. It might have been forgotten if it had not happened again three weeks later under similar circumstances. But the nationality of the vessel struck and the reputation of the company that owned it made the incident widely known.

The 13th of April, 1867, the sea being beautiful, the breeze favourable, the Scotia, of the Cunard Company’s line, found herself in 15° 12′ long. and 45° 37′ lat. She was going at the speed of thirteen knots and a half.

On April 13, 1867, the sea was calm and the breeze favorable. The Scotia, a ship of the Cunard Company’s line, was at 15° 12′ longitude and 45° 37′ latitude. She was traveling at thirteen and a half knots.

At seventeen minutes past four in the afternoon, whilst the passengers were assembled at lunch in the great saloon, a slight shock was felt on the hull of the Scotia, on her quarter, a little aft of the port-paddle.

At 4:17 in the afternoon, the passengers were gathered for lunch in the great saloon. A slight shock was felt against the hull of the Scotia, near the stern, just behind the port paddle wheel.

The Scotia had not struck, but she had been struck, and seemingly by something rather sharp and penetrating than blunt. The shock had been so slight that no one had been alarmed, had it not been for the shouts of the carpenter’s watch, who rushed on to the bridge, exclaiming, “We are sinking! we are sinking!” At first the passengers were much frightened, but Captain Anderson hastened to reassure them. The danger could not be imminent. The Scotia, divided into seven compartments by strong partitions, could brave with impunity any leak. Captain Anderson went down immediately into the hold. He found that the sea was pouring into the fifth compartment; and the rapidity of the influx proved that the force of the water was considerable. Fortunately this compartment did not hold the boilers, or the fires would have been immediately extinguished. Captain Anderson ordered the engines to be stopped at once, and one of the men went down to ascertain the extent of the injury. Some minutes afterwards they discovered the existence of a large hole, of two yards in diameter, in the ship’s bottom. Such a leak could not be stopped; and the Scotia, her paddles half submerged, was obliged to continue her course. She was then three hundred miles from Cape Clear, and after three days’ delay, which caused great uneasiness in Liverpool, she entered the basin of the company.

The Scotia had not struck anything. She had been struck, apparently by something sharp and penetrating rather than blunt. The shock was so slight that no one would have been alarmed, except for the shouts of the carpenter’s watch. They rushed onto the bridge, crying, “We are sinking! We are sinking!” At first, the passengers were very frightened, but Captain Anderson quickly reassured them. The danger could not be immediate. The Scotia was divided into seven compartments by strong partitions, so she could withstand any leak without harm. Captain Anderson immediately went down into the hold. He found seawater pouring into the fifth compartment. The speed of the flow showed that the water was entering with considerable force. Fortunately, the boilers were not in that compartment, or their fires would have been put out immediately. Captain Anderson ordered the engines stopped at once, and a crewman went down to check the damage. A few minutes later, they found a large hole, two yards across, in the ship’s bottom. The leak could not be stopped, so the Scotia had to continue her course with her paddles half submerged. She was then three hundred miles from Cape Clear. After a three-day delay that caused great anxiety in Liverpool, she entered the company’s basin.

The engineers visited the Scotia, which was put in dry dock. They could scarcely believe it possible; at two yards and a half below water-mark was a regular rent, in the form of an isosceles triangle. The broken place in the iron plates was so perfectly defined that it could not have been more neatly done by a punch. It was clear, then, that the instrument producing the perforation was not of a common stamp; and after having been driven with prodigious strength, and piercing an iron plate 1-3/8 inches thick, had withdrawn itself by a retrograde motion truly inexplicable.

The engineers inspected the Scotia after it was placed in dry dock. They could hardly believe what they saw. Two and a half yards below the waterline was a clean tear shaped like an isosceles triangle. The break in the iron plates was so precise that a punch could not have made it neater. Clearly, the object that made the hole was no ordinary one. It had been driven with tremendous force through an iron plate 1-3/8 inches thick. Then it had pulled back out in a way that was truly inexplicable.

Such was the last fact, which resulted in exciting once more the torrent of public opinion. From this moment all unlucky casualties which could not be otherwise accounted for were put down to the monster. Upon this imaginary creature rested the responsibility of all these shipwrecks, which unfortunately were considerable; for of three thousand ships whose loss was annually recorded at Lloyd’s, the number of sailing and steam ships supposed to be totally lost, from the absence of all news, amounted to not less than two hundred!

This latest incident once again stirred a torrent of public opinion. From then on, every unexplained accident was blamed on the monster. This imaginary creature was held responsible for all these shipwrecks, which were unfortunately numerous. Of the three thousand ships reported lost each year at Lloyd’s, at least two hundred sailing ships and steamships were presumed totally lost because no news of them had arrived!

Now, it was the “monster” who, justly or unjustly, was accused of their disappearance, and, thanks to it, communication between the different continents became more and more dangerous. The public demanded peremptorily that the seas should at any price be relieved from this formidable cetacean.

The “monster” was blamed for their disappearance, rightly or wrongly. Because of it, travel and communication between continents became increasingly dangerous. The public demanded that the seas be rid of this fearsome creature at any cost.