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[page 83:]
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A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTRÖM.
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The ways of God in
Nature, as in
Providence,
are not as our ways; nor are the models that we frame
any
way commensurate to the vastness, profundity, and unsearchableness of
His
works, which have a depth in them greater than the well of
Democritus.
Joseph
Glanville.
WE
had now
reached the summit of the loftiest crag. For some minutes the old man
seemed
too much exhausted to speak.
"Not long ago," said he at length,
"and I could
have
guided you on this route as well as the youngest of my sons; but,
about three years past, there happened to me an event such as never
happened
before to mortal man — or at least such as no man ever survived to tell
of — and
the six hours of deadly terror which I then endured have broken me up
body
and soul. You suppose me a very old man — but I am not. It took
less than a single day to change these hairs from a jetty black to
white,
to weaken my limbs, and to unstring my nerves, so that I tremble at the
least exertion, and am frightened at a shadow. Do you know I can
scarcely
look over this little cliff without getting giddy?"
The "little cliff," upon whose edge
he had so
carelessly
thrown himself down to rest that the weightier portion of his body hung
over it, while he was only kept from falling by the tenure of his elbow
on its extreme and slippery edge — this "little cliff" arose, a sheer
unobstructed
precipice of black shining rock, some fifteen or sixteen hundred feet
from
the world of crags beneath us. Nothing would have tempted me to within
half a dozen yards of its brink. In truth so deeply was I excited by
the
perilous position of my companion, that I fell at full length upon the
ground, clung [page 84:] to the shrubs around me, and dared not
even glance upward at the sky — while I struggled in vain to divest
myself
of the idea that the very foundations of the mountain were in danger
from
the fury of the winds. It was long before I could reason myself into
sufficient
courage to sit up and look out into the distance.
"You must get over these fancies,"
said the
guide,
"for I have brought you here that you might have the best possible view
of the scene of that event I mentioned — and to tell you the whole
story
with the spot just under your eye."
"We are now," he continued, in that
particularizing
manner which distinguished him — "we are now close upon the Norwegian
coast
— in the sixty-eighth degree of latitude — in the great province of
Nordland
— and in the dreary district of Lofoden. The mountain upon whose top we
sit is Helseggen, the Cloudy. Now raise yourself up a little higher —
hold
on to the grass if you feel giddy — so — and look out, beyond the belt
of vapor beneath us, into the sea."
I looked dizzily, and beheld a wide
expanse of
ocean,
whose waters wore so inky a hue as to bring at once to my mind the
Nubian
geographer's account of the Mare Tenebrarum. A panorama more
deplorably
desolate no human imagination can conceive. To the right and left, as
far
as the eye could reach, there lay outstretched, like ramparts of the
world,
lines of horridly black and beetling cliff, whose character of gloom
was
but the more forcibly illustrated by the surf which reared high up
against
it its white and ghastly
crest, howling and shrieking for ever. Just opposite
the promontory upon whose apex we were placed, and at a distance of
some
five or six miles out at sea, there was visible a small, bleak-looking
island; or, more properly, its position was discernible through
the wilderness of surge in which it was enveloped. About two miles
nearer
the land, arose another of smaller size, hideously craggy and barren,
and
encompassed at various intervals by a cluster of dark rocks.
The appearance of the ocean, in the
space between
the more distant island and the shore, had something very unusual about
it. Although, at the time, so strong a gale was blowing landward that a
brig in the remote offing lay to under a double-reefed trysail, and
constantly
plunged her whole hull out of sight, still there was [page
85:]
here nothing like a regular swell, but only a short, quick, angry cross
dashing of water in every direction — as well in the teeth of the wind
as otherwise. Of foam there was little except in the immediate vicinity
of the rocks.
"The island in the distance," resumed
the old
man,
"is called by the Norwegians Vurrgh. The one midway is Moskoe. That a
mile
to the northward is Ambaaren. Yonder are Islesen, Hotholm, Keildhelm,
Suarven,
and Buckholm. Farther off — between Moskoe and Vurrgh — are Otterholm,
Flimen, Sandflesen, and Stockholm. These are the true names of the
places
— but why it has been thought necessary to name them at all, is more
than
either you or I can understand. Do you hear any thing?
Do
you see any change in the water?"
We had now been about ten minutes
upon the top of
Helseggen, to which we had ascended from the interior of Lofoden, so
that
we had caught no glimpse of the sea until it had burst upon us from the
summit. As the old man spoke, I became aware of a loud and gradually
increasing
sound, like the moaning of a vast herd of buffaloes upon an American
prairie;
and at the same moment I perceived that what seamen term the chopping
character of the ocean beneath us, was rapidly changing into a current
which set to the eastward. Even while I gazed, this current acquired a
monstrous velocity. Each moment added to its speed — to its headlong
impetuosity.
In five minutes the whole sea, as far as Vurrgh, was lashed into
ungovernable
fury; but it was between Moskoe and the coast that the main
uproar
held its sway. Here the vast bed of the waters, seamed and scarred into
a thousand conflicting channels, burst suddenly into phrensied
convulsion
— heaving, boiling, hissing — gyrating in gigantic and innumerable
vortices,
and all whirling and plunging on to the eastward with a rapidity which
water never elsewhere assumes except in precipitous descents.
In a few minutes more, there came
over the scene
another radical alteration. The general surface grew somewhat more
smooth,
and the whirlpools, one by one, disappeared, while prodigious streaks
of
foam became apparent where none had been seen before. These streaks, at
length, spreading out to a great distance, and entering into
combination,
took unto themselves the [page 86:] gyratory
motion
of the subsided vortices, and seemed to form the germ of another more
vast.
Suddenly — very suddenly — this assumed a distinct and definite
existence,
in a circle of more than a mile in diameter. The edge of the whirl was
represented by a broad belt of gleaming spray; but no particle
of
this slipped into the mouth of the terrific funnel, whose interior, as
far as the eye could fathom it, was a smooth, shining, and jet-black
wall
of water, inclined to the horizon at an angle of some forty-five
degrees,
speeding dizzily round and round with a swaying and sweltering motion,
and sending forth to the winds an appalling voice, half shriek, half
roar,
such as not even the mighty cataract of Niagara ever lifts up in its
agony
to Heaven.
The mountain trembled to its very
base, and the
rock
rocked. I threw myself upon my face, and clung to the scant herbage in
an excess of nervous agitation.
"This," said I at length, to the old
man — "this can
be nothing else than the great whirlpool of the Maelström."
"So it is sometimes termed," said he.
"We
Norwegians
call it the Moskoe-ström, from the island of Moskoe in the
midway."
The ordinary accounts of this vortex
had by no
means
prepared me for what I saw. That of Jonas Ramus, which is perhaps the
most
circumstantial of any, cannot impart the faintest conception either of
the magnificence, or of the horror of the scene — or of the wild
bewildering
sense of the novel which confounds the beholder. I am not
sure from what point of view the writer in question surveyed it, nor at
what time; but it could neither have been from the summit of
Helseggen,
nor during a storm. There are some passages of his description,
nevertheless,
which may be quoted for their details, although their effect is
exceedingly
feeble in conveying an impression of the spectacle.
"Between Lofoden and Moskoe," he
says, "the depth
of the water is between thirty-six and forty fathoms; but on the
other side, toward Ver (Vurrgh) this depth decreases so as not to
afford
a convenient passage for a vessel, without the risk of splitting on the
rocks, which happens even in the calmest weather. When it is flood, the
stream runs up the country between Lofoden and Moskoe with a boisterous
rapidity; but the roar of its impetuous ebb to the sea is scarce
equalled by the loudest and most dreadful [page 87:]
cataracts; the noise being heard several leagues off, and the
vortices
or pits are of such an extent and depth, that if a ship comes within
its
attraction, it is inevitably absorbed and carried down to the bottom,
and
there beat to pieces against the rocks; and when the water
relaxes,
the fragments thereof are thrown up again. But these intervals of
tranquility
are only at the turn of the ebb and flood, and in calm weather, and
last
but a quarter of an hour, its violence gradually returning. When the
stream
is most boisterous, and its fury heightened by a storm, it is dangerous
to come within a Norway mile of it. Boats, yachts, and ships have been
carried away by not guarding against it before they were within its
reach.
It likewise happens frequently, that whales come too near the stream,
and
are overpowered by its violence; and then it is impossible to describe
their howlings and bellowings in their fruitless struggles to disengage
themselves. A bear once, attempting to swim from Lofoden to Moskoe, was
caught by the stream and borne down, while he roared terribly, so as to
be heard on shore. Large stocks of firs and pine trees, after being
absorbed
by the current, rise again broken and torn to such a degree as if
bristles
grew upon them. This plainly shows the bottom to consist of craggy
rocks,
among which they are whirled to and fro. This stream is regulated by
the
flux and reflux of the sea — it being constantly high and low water
every
six hours. In the year 1645, early in the morning of Sexagesima Sunday,
it raged with such noise and impetuosity that the very stones of the
houses
on the coast fell to the ground."
In regard to the depth of the water,
I could not
see how this could have been ascertained at all in the immediate
vicinity
of the vortex. The "forty fathoms" must have reference only to portions
of the channel close upon the shore either of Moskoe or Lofoden.
The depth in the centre of the Moskoe-ström must be immeasurably
greater; and no better proof of this fact is necessary than can be
obtained
from even the sidelong glance into the abyss of the whirl which may be
had from the highest crag of Helseggen. Looking down from this pinnacle
upon the howling Phlegethon below, I could not help smiling at the
simplicity
with which the honest Jonas Ramus records, as a matter difficult of
belief,
the anecdotes of the whales and the bears; for it appeared [page
88:] to me, in fact, a self-evident thing, that the largest
ship of the line in existence, coming within the influence of that
deadly
attraction, could resist it as little as a feather the hurricane, and
must
disappear bodily and at once.
The attempts to account for the
phenomenon — some
of which, I remember, seemed to me sufficiently plausible in perusal —
now wore a very different and unsatisfactory aspect. The idea generally
received is that this, as well as three smaller vortices among the
Ferroe
islands, "have no other cause than the collision of waves rising and
falling,
at flux and reflux, against a ridge of rocks and shelves, which
confines
the water so that it precipitates itself like a cataract; and
thus
the higher the flood rises, the deeper must the fall be, and the
natural
result of all is a whirlpool or vortex, the prodigious suction of which
is sufficiently known by lesser experiments." — These are the words of
the Encyclopædia Britannica. Kircher and others imagine that in
the
centre of the channel of the Maelström is an abyss penetrating the
globe, and issuing in some very remote part — the Gulf of Bothnia being
somewhat decidedly named in one instance. This opinion, idle in itself,
was the one to which, as I gazed, my imagination most readily assented;
and, mentioning it to the guide, I was rather surprised to hear
him say that, although it was the view almost universally entertained
of
the subject by the Norwegians, it nevertheless was not his own. As to
the
former notion he confessed his inability to comprehend it; and
here I agreed with him — for, however conclusive on paper, it becomes
altogether
unintelligible, and even absurd, amid the thunder of the abyss.
"You have had a good look at the
whirl now," said
the old man, "and if you will creep round this crag, so as to get in
its
lee, and deaden the roar of the water, I will tell you a story that
will
convince you I ought to know something of the Moskoe-ström."
I placed myself as desired, and he
proceeded.
"Myself and my two brothers once
owned a
schooner-rigged
smack of about seventy tons burthen, with which we were in the habit of
fishing among the islands beyond Moskoe, nearly to Vurrgh. In all
violent
eddies at sea there is good fishing, at proper opportunities, if one
has
only the courage to attempt it; [page 89:]
but
among the whole of the Lofoden coastmen, we three were the only ones
who
made a regular business of going out to the islands, as I tell you. The
usual grounds are a great way lower down to the southward. There fish
can
be got at all hours, without much risk, and therefore these places are
preferred. The choice spots over here among the rocks, however, not
only
yield the finest variety, but in far greater abundance; so that
we often got in a single day, what the more timid of the craft could
not
scrape together in a week. In fact, we made it a matter of desperate
speculation
— the risk of life standing instead of labor, and courage answering for
capital.
"We kept the smack in a cove about
five miles
higher
up the coast than this; and it was our practice, in fine
weather,
to take advantage of the fifteen minutes' slack to push across the main
channel of the Moskoe-ström, far above the pool, and then drop
down
upon anchorage somewhere near Otterholm, or Sandflesen, where the
eddies
are not so violent as elsewhere. Here we used to remain until nearly
time
for slack-water again, when we weighed and made for home. We never set
out upon this expedition without a steady side wind for going and
coming
— one that we felt sure would not fail us before our return — and we
seldom
made a mis-calculation upon this point. Twice, during six years, we
were
forced to stay all night at anchor on account of a dead calm, which is
a rare thing indeed just about here; and once we had to remain
on
the grounds nearly a week, starving to death, owing to a gale which
blew
up shortly after our arrival, and made the channel too boisterous to be
thought of. Upon this occasion we should have been driven out to sea in
spite of everything, (for the whirlpools threw us round and round so
violently,
that, at length, we fouled our anchor and dragged it) if it had not
been
that we drifted into one of the innumerable cross currents — here
to-day
and gone to-morrow — which drove us under the lee of Flimen, where, by
good luck, we brought up.
"I could not tell you the twentieth
part of the
difficulties
we encountered 'on the grounds' — it is a bad spot to be in, even in
good
weather — but we made shift always to run the gauntlet of the
Moskoe-ström
itself without accident; although at times my heart has been in
my mouth when we happened to be a minute [page 90:]
or so behind or before the slack. The wind sometimes was not as strong
as we thought it at starting, and then we made rather less way than we
could wish, while the current rendered the smack unmanageable. My
eldest
brother had a son eighteen years old, and I had two stout boys of my
own.
These would have been of great assistance at such times, in using the
sweeps,
as well as afterward in fishing — but, somehow, although we ran the
risk
ourselves, we had not the heart to let the young ones get into the
danger
— for, after all is said and done, it was a horrible danger,
and
that is the truth.
"It is now within a few days of three
years since
what I am going to tell you occurred. It was on the tenth day of July,
18—, a day which the people of this part of the world will never forget
— for it was one in which blew the most terrible hurricane that ever
came
out of the heavens. And yet all the morning, and indeed until late in
the
afternoon, there was a gentle and steady breeze from the south-west,
while
the sun shone brightly, so that the oldest seaman among us could not
have
foreseen what was to follow.
"The three of us — my two brothers
and myself —
had
crossed over to the islands about two o'clock P. M., and had soon
nearly
loaded the smack with fine fish, which, we all remarked, were more
plenty
that day than we had ever known them. It was just seven, by my watch,
when we weighed and started for home, so as to make the worst of the
Ström
at slack water, which we knew would be at eight.
"We set out with a fresh wind on our
starboard
quarter,
and for some time spanked along at a great rate, never dreaming of
danger,
for indeed we saw not the slightest reason to apprehend it. All at once
we were taken aback by a breeze from over Helseggen. This was most
unusual
— something that had never happened to us before — and I began to feel
a little uneasy, without exactly knowing why. We put the boat on the
wind,
but could make no headway at all for the eddies, and I was upon the
point
of proposing to return to the anchorage, when, looking astern, we saw
the
whole horizon covered with a singular copper-colored cloud that rose
with
the most amazing velocity.
"In the meantime the breeze that had
headed us
off
fell away, [page 91:] and we were dead becalmed,
drifting
about in every direction. This state of things, however, did not last
long
enough to give us time to think about it. In less than a minute the
storm
was upon us — in less than two the sky was entirely overcast — and what
with this and the driving spray, it became suddenly so dark that we
could
not see each other in the smack.
"Such a hurricane as then blew it is
folly to
attempt
describing. The oldest seaman in Norway never experienced any thing
like
it. We had let our sails go by the run before it cleverly took us; but,
at the first puff, both our masts went by the board as if they had
been sawed off — the mainmast taking with it my youngest brother, who
had
lashed himself to it for safety.
"Our boat was the lightest feather of
a thing
that
ever sat upon water. It had a complete flush deck, with only a small
hatch
near the bow, and this hatch it had always been our custom to batten
down
when about to cross the Ström, by way of precaution against the
chopping
seas. But for this circumstance we should have foundered at once — for
we lay entirely buried for some moments. How my elder brother escaped
destruction
I cannot say, for I never had an opportunity of ascertaining. For my
part,
as soon as I had let the foresail run, I threw myself flat on deck,
with
my feet against the narrow gunwale of the bow, and with my hands
grasping
a ring-bolt near the foot of the fore-mast. It was mere instinct that
prompted
me to do this — which was undoubtedly the very best thing I could have
done — for I was too much flurried to think.
"For some moments we were completely
deluged, as
I say, and all this time I held my breath, and clung to the bolt. When
I could stand it no longer I raised myself upon my knees, still keeping
hold with my hands, and thus got my head clear. Presently our little
boat
gave herself a shake, just as a dog does in coming out of the water,
and
thus rid herself, in some measure, of the seas. I was now trying to get
the better of the stupor that had come over me, and to collect my
senses
so as to see what was to be done, when I felt somebody grasp my arm. It
was my elder brother, and my heart leaped for joy, for I had made sure
that he was overboard — but the next moment all this joy was turned
into [page
92:] horror — for he put his mouth close to my ear, and
screamed
out the word 'Moskoe-ström! '
"No one ever will know what my
feelings were at
that
moment. I shook from head to foot as if I had had the most violent fit
of the ague. I knew what he meant by that one word well enough — I knew
what he wished to make me understand. With the wind that now drove us
on,
we were bound for the whirl of the Ström, and nothing could save
us!
"You perceive that in crossing the
Ström channel,
we always went a long way up above the whirl, even in the calmest
weather,
and then had to wait and watch carefully for the slack — but now we
were
driving right upon the pool itself, and in such a hurricane as
this!
'To be sure,' I thought, 'we shall get there just about the slack —
there
is some little hope in that' — but in the next moment I cursed myself
for
being so great a fool as to dream of hope at all. I knew very well that
we were doomed, had we been ten times a ninety-gun ship.
"By this time the first fury of the
tempest had
spent
itself, or perhaps we did not feel it so much, as we scudded before it,
but at all events the seas, which at first had been kept down by the
wind,
and lay flat and frothing, now got up into absolute mountains. A
singular
change, too, had come over the heavens. Around in every direction it
was
still as black as pitch, but nearly overhead there burst out, all at
once,
a circular rift of clear sky — as clear as I ever saw — and of a deep
bright
blue — and through it there blazed forth the full moon with a lustre
that
I never before knew her to wear. She lit up every thing about us with
the
greatest distinctness — but, oh God, what a scene it was to light up!
"I now made one or two attempts to
speak to my
brother
— but, in some manner which I could not understand, the din had so
increased
that I could not make him hear a single word, although I screamed at
the
top of my voice in his ear. Presently he shook his head, looking as
pale
as death, and held up one of his finger, as if to say 'listen! '
"At first I could not make out what
he meant —
but
soon a hideous thought flashed upon me. I dragged my watch from its
fob.
It was not going. I glanced at its face by the moonlight, and then
burst
into tears as I flung it far away into the ocean. [page 93:]
It
had run down at seven o'clock! We were behind the time of the
slack,
and the whirl of the Ström was in full fury!
"When a boat is well built, properly
trimmed, and
not deep laden, the waves in a strong gale, when she is going large,
seem
always to slip from beneath her — which appears very strange to a
landsman
— and this is what is called riding, in sea phrase. Well, so
far
we had ridden the swells very cleverly; but presently a gigantic
sea happened to take us right under the counter, and bore us with it as
it rose — up — up — as if into the sky. I would not have believed that
any wave could rise so high. And then down we came with a sweep, a
slide,
and a plunge, that made me feel sick and dizzy, as if I was falling
from
some lofty mountain-top in a dream. But while we were up I had thrown a
quick glance around — and that one glance was all sufficient. I saw our
exact position in an instant. The Moskoe-ström whirlpool was about
a quarter of a mile dead ahead — but no more like the every-day
Moskoe-ström,
than the whirl as you now see it is like a mill-race. If I had not
known
where we were, and what we had to expect, I should not have recognised
the place at all. As it was, I involuntarily closed my eyes in horror.
The lids clenched themselves together as if in a spasm.
"It could not have been more than two
minutes
afterward
until we suddenly felt the waves subside, and were enveloped in foam.
The
boat made a sharp half turn to larboard, and then shot off in its new
direction
like a thunderbolt. At the same moment the roaring noise of the water
was
completely drowned in a kind of shrill shriek — such a sound as you
might
imagine given out by the waste-pipes of many thousand steam-vessels,
letting
off their steam all together. We were now in the belt of surf that
always
surrounds the whirl; and I thought, of course, that another
moment
would plunge us into the abyss — down which we could only see
indistinctly
on account of the amazing velocity with which we were borne along. The
boat did not seem to sink into the water at all, but to skim like an
air-bubble
upon the surface of the surge. Her starboard side was next the whirl,
and
on the larboard arose the world of ocean we had left. It stood like a
huge
writhing wall between us and the horizon.
"It may appear strange, but now, when
we were in
the very [page 94:] jaws of the gulf, I felt more
composed
than when we were only approaching it. Having made up my mind to hope
no
more, I got rid of a great deal of that terror which unmanned me at
first.
I suppose it was despair that strung my nerves.
"It may look like boasting — but what
I tell you
is truth — I began to reflect how magnificent a thing it was to die in
such a manner, and how foolish it was in me to think of so paltry a
consideration
as my own individual life, in view of so wonderful a manifestation of
God's
power. I do believe that I blushed with shame when this idea crossed my
mind. After a little while I became possessed with the keenest
curiosity
about the whirl itself. I positively felt a wish to explore its
depths, even at the sacrifice I was going to make; and my
principal
grief was that I should never be able to tell my old companions on
shore
about the mysteries I should see. These, no doubt, were singular
fancies
to occupy a man's mind in such extremity — and I have often thought
since,
that the revolutions of the boat around the pool might have rendered me
a little light-headed.
"There was another circumstance which
tended to
restore
my self-possession; and this was the cessation of the wind,
which
could not reach us in our present situation — for, as you saw yourself,
the belt of surf is considerably lower than the general bed of the
ocean,
and this latter now towered above us, a high, black, mountainous ridge.
If you have never been at sea in a heavy gale, you can form no idea of
the confusion of mind occasioned by the wind and spray together. They
blind,
deafen, and strangle you, and take away all power of action or
reflection.
But we were now, in a great measure, rid of these annoyances — just us
death-condemned felons in prison are allowed petty indulgences,
forbidden
them while their doom is yet uncertain.
"How often we made the circuit of the
belt it is
impossible to say. We careered round and round for perhaps an hour,
flying
rather than floating, getting gradually more and more into the middle
of
the surge, and then nearer and nearer to its horrible inner edge. All
this
time I had never let go of the ring-bolt. My brother was at the stern,
holding on to a small empty water-cask which had been securely lashed
under
the coop of the counter, and was the only thing on deck that had not
been
swept overboard [page 95:] when the gale first
took
us. As we approached the brink of the pit he let go his hold upon this,
and made for the ring, from which, in the agony of his terror, he
endeavored
to force my hands, as it was not large enough to afford us both a
secure
grasp. I never felt deeper grief than when I saw him attempt this act —
although I knew he was a madman when he did it — a raving maniac
through
sheer fright. I did not care, however, to contest the point with him. I
knew it could make no difference whether either of us held on at all;
so I let him have the bolt, and went astern to the cask. This there was
no great difficulty in doing; for the smack flew round steadily
enough, and upon an even keel — only swaying to and fro, with the
immense
sweeps and swelters of the whirl. Scarcely had I secured myself in my
new
position, when we gave a wild lurch to starboard, and rushed headlong
into
the abyss. I muttered a hurried prayer to God, and thought all was
over.
"As I felt the sickening sweep of the
descent, I
had instinctively tightened my hold upon the barrel, and closed my
eyes.
For some seconds I dared not open them — while I expected instant
destruction,
and wondered that I was not already in my death-struggles with the
water.
But moment after moment elapsed. I still lived. The sense of falling
had
ceased; and the motion of the vessel seemed much as it had been
before, while in the belt of foam, with the exception that she now lay
more along. I took courage, and looked once again upon the scene.
"Never shall I forget the sensations
of awe,
horror,
and admiration with which I gazed about me. The boat appeared to be
hanging,
as if by magic, midway down, upon the interior surface of a funnel vast
in circumference, prodigious in depth, and whose perfectly smooth sides
might have been mistaken for ebony, but for the bewildering rapidity
with
which they spun around, and for the gleaming and ghastly radiance they
shot forth, as the rays of the full moon, from that circular rift amid
the clouds which I have already described, streamed in a flood of
golden
glory along the black walls, and far away down into the inmost recesses
of the abyss.
"At first I was too much confused to
observe
anything
accurately. The general burst of terrific grandeur was all that I
beheld. [page
96:] When I recovered myself a little, however, my gaze fell
instinctively downward. In this direction I was able to obtain an
unobstructed
view, from the manner in which the smack hung on the inclined surface
of
the pool. She was quite upon an even keel — that is to say, her deck
lay
in a plane parallel with that of the water — but this latter sloped at
an angle of more than forty-five degrees, so that we seemed to be lying
upon our beam-ends. I could not help observing, nevertheless, that I
had
scarcely more difficulty in maintaining my hold and footing in this
situation,
than if we had been upon a dead level; and this, I suppose, was
owing to the speed at which we revolved.
"The rays of the moon seemed to
search the very
bottom
of the profound gulf; but still I could make out nothing
distinctly,
on account of a thick mist in which everything there was enveloped, and
over which there hung a magnificent rainbow, like that narrow and
tottering
bridge which Mussulmen say is the only pathway between Time and
Eternity.
This mist, or spray, was no doubt occasioned by the clashing of the
great
walls of the funnel, as they all met together at the bottom — but the
yell
that went up to the Heavens from out of that mist, I dare not attempt
to
describe.
"Our first slide into the abyss
itself, from the
belt of foam above, had carried us a great distance down the slope; but
our farther descent was by no means proportionate. Round and round
we swept — not with any uniform movement — but in dizzying swings and
jerks,
that sent us sometimes only a few hundred yards — sometimes nearly the
complete circuit of the whirl. Our progress downward, at each
revolution,
was slow, but very perceptible.
"Looking about me upon the wide waste
of liquid
ebony
on which we were thus borne, I perceived that our boat was not the only
object in the embrace of the whirl. Both above and below us were
visible
fragments of vessels, large masses of building timber and trunks of
trees,
with many smaller articles, such as pieces of house furniture, broken
boxes,
barrels and staves. I have already described the unnatural curiosity
which
had taken the place of my original terrors. It appeared to grow upon me
as I drew nearer and nearer to my dreadful doom. I now began to [page
97:] watch, with a strange interest, the numerous things
that
floated in our company. I must have been delirious — for I even
sought amusement in speculating upon the relative velocities of
their several descents toward the foam below. 'This fir tree,' I found
myself at one time saying, 'will certainly be the next thing that takes
the awful plunge and disappears,' — and then I was disappointed to find
that the wreck of a Dutch merchant ship overtook it and went down
before.
At length, after making several guesses of this nature, and being
deceived
in all — this fact — the fact of my invariable miscalculation — set me
upon a train of reflection that made my limbs again tremble, and my
heart
beat heavily once more.
"It was not a new terror that thus
affected me,
but
the dawn of a more exciting hope. This hope arose partly from
memory,
and partly from present observation. I called to mind the great variety
of buoyant matter that strewed the coast of Lofoden, having been
absorbed
and then thrown forth by the Moskoe-ström. By far the greater
number
of the articles were shattered in the most extraordinary way — so
chafed
and roughened as to have the appearance of being stuck full of
splinters
— but then I distinctly recollected that there were some of
them
which were not disfigured at all. Now I could not account for this
difference
except by supposing that the roughened fragments were the only ones
which
had been completely absorbed — that the others had entered the
whirl
at so late a period of the tide, or, for some reason, had descended so
slowly after entering, that they did not reach the bottom before the
turn
of the flood came, or of the ebb, as the case might be. I conceived it
possible, in either instance, that they might thus be whirled up again
to the level of the ocean, without undergoing the fate of those which
had
been drawn in more early, or absorbed more rapidly. I made, also, three
important observations. The first was, that, as a general rule, the
larger
the bodies were, the more rapid their descent — the second, that,
between
two masses of equal extent, the one spherical, and the other of any
other shape, the superiority in speed of descent was with the
sphere
— the third, that, between two masses of equal size, the one
cylindrical,
and the other of any other shape, the cylinder was absorbed the more
slowly. [page
98:] Since my escape, I have had several conversations on
this
subject with an old school-master of the district; and it was
from
him that I learned the use of the words 'cylinder' and 'sphere.' He
explained
to me — although I have forgotten the explanation — how what I observed
was, in fact, the natural consequence of the forms of the floating
fragments
— and showed me how it happened that a cylinder, swimming in a vortex,
offered more resistance to its suction, and was drawn in with greater
difficulty
than an equally bulky body, of any form whatever.*
"There was one startling circumstance
which went
a great way in enforcing these observations, and rendering me anxious
to
turn them to account, and this was that, at every revolution, we passed
something like a barrel, or else the yard or the mast of a vessel,
while
many of these things, which had been on our level when I first opened
my
eyes upon the wonders of the whirlpool, were now high up above us, and
seemed to have moved but little from their original station.
"I no longer hesitated what to do. I
resolved to
lash myself securely to the water cask upon which I now held, to cut it
loose from the counter, and to throw myself with it into the water. I
attracted
my brother's attention by signs, pointed to the floating barrels that
came
near us, and did everything in my power to make him understand what I
was
about to do. I thought at length that he comprehended my design — but,
whether this was the case or not, he shook his head despairingly, and
refused
to move from his station by the ring-bolt. It was impossible to reach
him ;
the emergency admitted of no delay; and so, with a bitter
struggle,
I resigned him to his fate, fastened myself to the cask by means of the
lashings which secured it to the counter, and precipitated myself with
it into the sea, without another moment's hesitation.
"The result was precisely what I had hoped it
might
be. As it is myself who now tell you this tale — as you see that I did
escape — and as you are already in possession of the mode in which this
escape was effected, and must therefore anticipate all that I have
farther
to say — I will bring my story quickly to conclusion. It might have
been
an hour, or thereabout, after my [page 99:]
quitting
the smack, when, having descended to a vast distance beneath me, it
made
three or four wild gyrations in rapid succession, and, bearing my loved
brother with it, plunged headlong, at once and forever, into the chaos
of foam below. The barrel to which I was attached sunk very little
farther
than half the distance between the bottom of the gulf and the spot at
which
I leaped overboard, before a great change took place in the character
of
the whirlpool. The slope of the sides of the vast funnel became
momently
less and less steep. The gyrations of the whirl grew, gradually, less
and
less violent. By degrees, the froth and the rainbow disappeared, and
the
bottom of the gulf seemed slowly to uprise. The sky was clear, the
winds
had gone down, and the full moon was setting radiantly in the west,
when
I found myself on the surface of the ocean, in full view of the shores
of Lofoden, and above the spot where the pool of the Moskoe-ström had
been. It was the hour of the slack — but the sea still heaved in
mountainous
waves from the effects of the hurricane. I was borne violently into the
channel of the Ström, and in a few minutes was hurried down the
coast
into the 'grounds' of the fishermen. A boat picked me up — exhausted
from
fatigue — and (now that the danger was removed) speechless from the
memory
of its horror. Those who drew me on board were my old mates and daily
companions
— but they knew me no more than they would have known a traveller from
the spirit-land. My hair which had been raven-black the day before, was
as white as you see it now. They say too that the whole expression of
my
countenance had changed. I told them my story — they did not believe
it.
I now tell it to you — and I can scarcely expect you to put
more
faith in it than did the merry fishermen of Lofoden." |
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