The daily morning Astorian. [volume] (Astoria, Oregon) 1883-1899, 1889-11-29


Stout John Hansen, wrapped all IN
furs, stood at the wheel of the bark
Reindeer, a whaler of the Arctic seas.
1t was the night of July 18th and the
vessel was working along the ice
pack with Cape Smythe just looming
In the distance. The biting wind
twirled aboutHansen's feet, catching up
the light snow and sending it swirling
across the darkling water. There was
a brisk breeze and the night was too
cold for comfort by reason of the
proximity of the foe; but Hansen
cared little and cheerily whistled the
tune Of folk lore song he learned
while a child sporting on the shore of
a Norwegian ford. He seemed as
strong and fearless as one of his Vik-
ing ancestors when they faced the un-
known Atlantic until "cloudlike they
saw the American shore stretching to
leeward"
Suddenly, right out of the pack,
came another bark, bow on. Her
miZZen was gone and she veered and
waved strangely; but her sails were
set and she was making fair headway.
Hansen could hear the swish of the
wind in her shrouds and the swash as
she munched the bone in her mouth.
In an instant she tackled and bore
away. Then, before going hundred
yards, she came about and made
straight for the Reindeer again.
Hansen hailed her. There was 10
answering hail. His voice rang hollow
and strange as the wind took it up
and seemed to make of it a mocking
echo. Then he hailed again. No re-
turn.
Hansen's lips grew white. His
knees shook. He put his helm hard
over and made for the open sea. Then
he muttered a prayer, which had not
come to him since a ship burned I'M
der his feet in the southern ocean way
back in the SOS.
He had seen the spectral ship, the
Flying DutchmG71 of the frozen
ocean. The phantom came 50 near
that he could see the glisten of the salt
spume frozen on her rigging, and the
icicles which hung from her sparS.
There was ice upon her deck, and up
on her wheel, and upon her battered
hatchs-ice, and nothing more.
Her decks gave back no echo OF foot
steps. Her sailing lights were ont.
She was so low in the water that she
seemed almost awash-but she kept
on into the darkness, reeling, stag
gering, unsteady, but on and on and
out of sight.
Last week John Hansen came into
port. Death sat watching by his
bedside. He chartered and gibbered,
and stared with straining eyeballs.
For no man may look upon the phan-
tom ship and live.
But what John Hansen saw in the
depths of that July night was not a
specter of the seas; nor was it the
grim vision of fever-stricken brain. |
1t was something far more dangerous
than an airy phantOm-a derelict of |
the deep. 1t was the wreck of the |
Young PhOntC, which since the 5th |
of August, 1888, has been sailing
through ice and gale, breasting the |
crushing pack, dodging the toppling
bergs, guided by an unseen hand, and |
sailing for no known port. No one
may say she has not touched the !
northern pole. No man may tell |
where she may be seen again.
On August 3rd, of last year, the !
whaling feet was riding between
Point Barrow and Cape Smythe, wait
ing for the ice pack to clear, when
down came the southwest gale, beat !
ing the sea into ridges and tossing the
stout ships like the paper argosies of
children. Down went the bark Fleet |
lCing that had outlived many an Arc
tic storm. The Mary and Susan
strained, plunged and foundered. The
seas great NAV took in the schOoners
InO and Jane Gray.
Things were lively on the Young
Ph0Ri.G then. Both anchors wareI
let go and the men were ordered to
the pumps. She was leaking badly
and the heavy seas swept clear over
her. With the night the wind shifted
to the west and came in stronger
gusts. One after the other the cables
parted and the bark drifted Then an
effort was made to get to sea, but the
vessel fouled the Triton when trying
to get over the bar. Her rudder,
stern-post and iibboom carried away
and the leaks were started freer.
The crew of thirty-seven men stuck
by the bark until August 9th. By
that time the water was at her lower
deck. Her mizzenmast had been cut
away. 1t was not thought that she
could float more than an hour or two
longer The sails on the fore and
main masts were set or partially flrled
when Captain Millard ordered the
men to the boats and the Young
PhG1liE sailed away, rudderless and
undirected, to meet whatever fate
might come.
She was not seen again last year, and
it was supposed she had foundered or
been squeezed between the foes. But
she kept on her erratic course, affected
by the winds, caught by the currents.
lonely and forlorn.
On May 5th of this year she was
seen and boarded by Mr.. Leavitt,
manager of whaling station on Cape
Smythe. She was then close in shore,
some Sixty miles from Wnere Sne nau
been abandoned. A few relics were
taken from her, and the next morning
she was gone again. She was little
changed, and though water-logged
made good headway.
This abandoned craft is probably
the phantom whose ice-sheathed
shrouds and silent decks loomed upon
the startled vision of big John Hansen
that chilly night in July, and gave
HIM that shock from which he may
never recover. For nearly a year she
had roamed the chartless sea, touch
ing at no port, piloted by no hand.
answering no hail, purpOseless, silent
and alone
Skating