Ghost ships (Shore 6)

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When there are strange mysteries, people’s imaginations lean towards the fantastic and strange stories get even stranger. That’s how seamen’s tales of haunted ships and ghost ships arise. They claim phantom ships can sail against the wind and currents with billowing sails and can sometimes even sail backwards. A few are seen flying above the waves. Most are totally silent, although sometimes the distant sounds of a party or battle can be heard. Some look like normal ships, while others are luminescent or on fire. Some phantom ships are missing their hulls, with only their bare ribs and tattered sails remaining. The ship’s figurehead might be a skeleton and ghosts of the crew may swarm the rigging, while some have no one aboard at all.

Of course, the most famous phantom ship is the Flying Dutchman. According to the legend, Captain Hendrik van der Decken (or Vanderdecken) of the Dutch East India Company while rounding the southern tip of Africa during a fierce storm, rejected the pleas of his crew to put in to shore and swore they’d continue, even if it took until doomsday. For defying God, he was cursed to continue sailing against that storm at the Cape of Good Hope and has been since 1641 (1680 or 1729 in some versions). Some say he and his decaying vessel, the Voltiguer, are still there. Others say that he roams the Seven Seas amidst that endless storm. Some believe that those who see his ship soon parish. Some stories tell of seeing van der Decken standing alone at the helm bare-headed, while others tell of seeing skeletons dancing in the rigging. A few say he’s a warning of impending disaster, providing a chance to avoid it, while others insist he causes the deaths and collects the souls of those who see him.

King George V of Britain and his brother, the Duke of Clarence, when they were still princes and while serving as naval cadets on the H.M.S. Inconstant, recorded a sighting of the ghost ship on July 11, 1881 as they were rounding Cape Horn. The entry was later reprinted in their book, The Cruise of H.M.S. “Bacchante,” 1879-82:

July 11th.—At 4 a.m. the Flying Dutchman crossed our bows. A strange red light as of a phantom ship all aglow, in the midst of which light the masts, spars and sails of a brig 200 yards distant stood out in strong relief as she came up on the port bow. The look-out man in the forecastle reported her as close on the port bow, where also the officer of the watch from the bridge clearly saw her, as did also the quarterdeck midshipman, who was sent forward at once to the forecastle; but on arriving there no vestige nor any sign whatever of any material ship was to be seen either near or right away on the horizon, the night being clear and the sea calm. Thirteen persons altogether saw her, but whether it was the Van Diemen [sic] or the Flying Dutchman or who else must remain unknown.[...]

The Tourmaline and Cleopatra, who were sailing on our starboard bow, flashed to ask whether we had seen the strange red light.[...] At 10:45 a.m. the ordinary seaman who had this morning reported the Flying Dutchman fell from the foretopmast crosstrees on to the topgallant forecastle and was smashed to atoms. At 4:15 p.m. after quarters we hove to with the headyards aback, and he was buried in the sea. He was a smart royal yardman, and one of the most promising young hands in the ship, and everyone feels quite sad at his loss. (At the next port we came to, the Admiral also was smitten down.)

The sea has always had an air of mystery about it. Even the ancient Greeks told of sea monsters and sirens, who with their irresistible singing, lure men to the deep where they drown. Homer wrote about Ulysses’ encounter with sirens in his adventure tale, The Odyssey.

Mermaids—sea-girls they were once called—and other merfolk appear in legends throughout the world, but they’re not all the same. We’re used to mermaids with fish-like tails, but some had two tails like in the Starbucks logo. Some were half serpent, and some were seals or swans, who pealed off their outer skin to reveal a young woman who could then come ashore. The mermaids of South Korea—the Sinjiki—would even warn sailors of impending storms.

T.S. Eliot mentioned them in the classic final lines of “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”.

I grow old... I grow old...

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

 

I do not think that they will sing to me.

 

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves

Combing the white hair of the waves blown back

When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown

Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

 

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Thousands of Rubber Ducks