A Storm on the Pacific

1895

The captain of a San Francisco tug thus describes a storm on the Pacific:

"When I say that the waves ran mountain high, I am not exaggerating the situation in the least. The tug would be poised on the crest of a sea and then be plunged down into a valley of water which seemed a mile below us. At times the moon would come out through the clouds, and in the uncertain light the waves seemed twice as high. The wind was blowing a perfect hurricane, and our lee rail was under water all the time. The angry sea appeared raging above, below and all around us, and nearly every wave into which we dipped would wash over the tug. It was impossible to remain aft, for the lower deck was flooded."

Clubs Huge Shark To Death

1920

Life Guard Kills a 450-pound Maneater With Oar.

EDGEMERE, N. Y. — A shark weighing 450 pounds was captured and killed on the bathing beach here by George Weiss, a life guard.

Attracted by the screams of bathers, who fled from the water, Weiss saw the shark plunging over the breakers. He jumped into a small boat, drove the shark into shallow water and clubbed it to death with an oar.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Aug. 7, 1920, p. 4.

How Bay State Grounded

Maine, 1916

Portland Sept. 25. — Capt. Foren of the Bay State says in relation to the making for the harbor he shaped the steamer's course for the buoy occupying the lightship position, and made what he supposed was the buoy, his running time, charts, etc., agreeing with that supposition, the buoy unfortunately proving to be the Old Anthony instead. After making the buoy he put the steamer on a NNW. course for Portland, with the disastrous results already reported. Capt. Foren ascribes the disaster entirely to the fact that the lightship had been taken off her station, the place where the steamer struck being about one mile off her proper course.

—The Fryeburg Post, Fryeburg, Maine, Sept. 26, 1916, p. 6.

Canoists Make 40-Mile Trip

Maine, 1916

Portland, Sept. 23. — Daniel M. Brown and Henry O. Finch, Eugene Parker and Clifton Doughty, four members of the Stroudwater canoe club, made an extended trip up the Stroudwater and Presumpscot rivers and through the old canal toward Sebago lake last Sunday.

The two canoes and their occupants started on their voyage for the day from the club house at Stroudwater at 5.35 a. m. Paddling steadily the four men went up to the falls at Spring street in Westbrook, where they were obliged to make their first carry into the Presumpscot river. They next carried their canoes at South Windham, again at Newhall, then at Dundee Falls.

Owing to the extreme low water an extra carry had to be made at Weeks Mills. The final destination was about two miles beyond Dundee Falls, which is practically 20 miles from their starting point. Much time was lost by the paddlers, owing to the low water and to their being obliged to drag their canoes about muddy places and in carrying.

The return journey was started at 2 o'clock and they arrived at the club house at about 9 p. m.

—The Fryeburg Post, Fryeburg, Maine, Sept. 26, 1916, p. 6.

Astor's Speed Boat Outraces Torpedoes

1916

Newport, R. I., Sept. 23. — The fastest craft on Narragansett bay is the motor boat Mystery, owned by Vincent Astor. Its speed is estimated at about 45 land miles an hour.

On Thursday Mr. Astor, with his machinist, took the Mystery to the torpedo testing range. From the decks of passing yachts and from the steamer General of the Wickford line, Mr. Astor could be seen chasing torpedoes, which were being tested. The Mystery outdistanced the speed boats the government uses to follow close behind torpedoes in speed tests in order to pick them up in case of trouble.

In all the runs the Mystery was able to keep ahead of the torpedoes, something the government motor boats cannot do.

The Coast of Maine

1916

Bold, lovely Coast of Maine
I tune my lyre to sing of thee
In sultry summer days; vacation's plea
Calls often in sweet wooing tones to me—
Where shall we go prithee?
Imagination takes swift wing
And in a motor boat we are afloat
With refreshing breeze on billowy sea.
Chug, chug, we onward go in glee
From Kittery Point to Old Quoddy.
What varied views are seen
At the numerous points that lie between;
York Beach and Kennebunk, Old Orchard Beach,
Then Portland, in our power boat we reach,
The myriad isles of Casco Bay, are in our way
With loveliness that stirs our lay;
Squirrel Island next, and now we near
Point Pemaquid, Muscongus Bay is here,
The Medomak also, which becomes a rill
At headwaters near "Paul Shinars" Mill.

Friendship, synonym of coast equality,
Port Clyde is on our lee,
Through Mussel Channel to Owl's Head we speed
Rockland is near, with everything you need.
Penobscot's waters we should fain explore
Long wooded banks to bustling Bangor,
Replenishing gasoline with fresh supplies
We turn our vessel's prow toward the main
Past Vinal and North Haven we nearly fly,
And land at Eggemoggin, fair Deer Isle.

Gem of the bay, bisected spot
With pretty hamlets lined,
Sunset, Mountainville, Little Deer, Sunshine,
A paradise for tourists here we find.
Where nature's resources rest the wearied mind.
Up anchor and away thro' devious Jericho,
Past Swans' Island and Bar Harbor and Ho! Ho!
Frenchman's Bay we leave on our way,
Petit Manan quite soon we scan
Then o'er Englishmans' bay, fast as we can;
We make Machiasport, and soon before us lay
West Quoddy Head, and Passamaquoddy Bay.

The very collection of such scenes
Is cooling mid the fever heat of things;
There seems to be a tugging to get away
Where Oceans' lyric song is heard, and naiads play,
To island, bay, cove, meandering stream,
Where majestic yachts go flitting by
To charm the gazers' eye;
While spreading trees with foliage green
Crown shores, smile vernal, o'er the scene.

Amidst such splendid vasts 'tis grand,
Yea grander than Acadia's strand,
Land of Evangeline,
Or Scotia's glories Scott doth sing.
Elysium for rest and fish and game
Is the bold, lovely coast of Pine Tree Maine.

— H. W. COLLINS.
STANDISH, Me.

—The Fryeburg Post, Fryeburg, Maine, Sept. 26, 1916, p. 1.

Passing of the Athletic Girl

1901

The athletic girl, it is predicted, is to be supplanted in popularity this summer by the girl of the olden type, who knew nothing of outdoor sports except a mild game of croquet be included in the list and, furthermore, did not care to know. It is hinted that the men have lost interest to some extent in the self possessed, independent young woman who can row a boat — and sail one too — play tennis, throw a ball straight, make century bicycle runs, tramp for hours without getting fatigued, swim long distances, etc., and that a reaction has set in in favor of the old fashioned type of girl, content to occupy her summer days with purely feminine tasks instead of imitating her sport loving brother.

Golf has not apparently come under the ban of alleged masculine displeasure to quite the same extent as other forms of sport, but the golf girl's skirt has been lengthened until it just escapes touching the ground, for fashion's experts declare that it is not correct to wear skirts that are overshort even on the links.

Whether or not these predictions prove true and the pendulum really does swing back to its former position remains to be seen. Meanwhile the shops are making a brave showing of golfing outfits and other sporting paraphernalia for women, and outfitting costumes have not altogether ceased to attract attention. — Dorothy Quincy in Brooklyn Citizen.

Homemade Gondoliers

1901

How many citizens of Buffalo who have watched the imported gondoliers on the exposition canals realize that we have developed a race of gondoliers of our own right here in Buffalo? The dirty old skiffs down in the harbor are not so pleading to the eye as the smart Venetian gondolas at the fair. The grimy ferry boys who propel them don't look so foreign or so picturesque as their fellow craftsmen from abroad. But when it comes to skill in handling a boat with a single stern oar, dodging around between steamers and tugs, through narrow passages and over the swells made by the big ships the Buffalo boys have no need to fear comparison.

It would be an interesting and popular exhibition if the Pan-American authorities some day would take three or four of the best of the ferry boys from Buffalo harbor up to the exposition grounds, put them on the canals in their old skiffs and match them in a contest of speed and skill against the imported gondoliers. I'd bet my money on the Buffalo boys. — Buffalo Express.

Ice Boating Sure To Recover Fame

1920

WINTER SPORT BOOMS AFTER WAR LAPSE.

Many New Racers Being Fitted Out and Contests Are Now in Planning.

DETROIT, Mich., Jan. 1. — It is expected that the ice boating sport will again come into its own this winter after a lapse during the war period.

Already the announcement of a new club out Grosse Pointe way, which will foster the sport has been made and should inject added impetus to the season's prospects.

The fact that many of the skippers were overseas last winter together with the mild weather that provided little ice, served to put a damper on the sport, but the ice sailors are making more elaborate plans than ever to make up for lost time and some spirited racing is expected.

Among the new boats are the Kangaroo, built by Sid Mitchie and said to be a boat that will climb over any obstacle and leap the open water. It was designed by Mitchie himself. 100 Proof owned by Captain Bill Footes, is another and is credited with the fastest trip to Canada and return.

Frank Diegel and his Moonshine, one of the fast ones, will be in better racing form than ever and many spirited races between the Kangaroo and Moonshine have been staged in the past and probably will be repeated this season.

N. P. Neff is busy overhauling his Stonewall and expects to make her faster than ever. Charles Hilgendorf's White Lightning runs true to its name and should make trouble for the others as will a number of dark horses.

Leonard Neff will pilot the Wasp again. This boat has captured the Frontenac and Dodge Bors trophies, and is again being put in sailing trim after a two-year layoff due to the war.

The Lake Shore Ice Yacht Club is the latest addition to the ice boat club ranks and will conduct some big regattas. The Grosse Pointe and L'Anse Yacht Club, pioneers in the game hereabouts, also will make every effort to boom the wind and ice racing.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 10.

Recent Sea Rescues Thrill the Country

Feb 1920

Unsung Heroes Save Many Lives in Atlantic Storm

NEW YORK, N. Y., — The terrific storms of the last few weeks along the Atlantic seacoast have brought to light the fact that heroism is far more common than it used to be prior to the recent war. The scores of thrilling rescues made from wrecked ships show that men of the present day will risk their lives for a good cause with much less hesitation than before they became used to the experience while combating the enemy on sea and land.

Took a Desperate Chance

One little boat took a desperate chance in its successful attempt to rescue the passengers of a stranded schooner. With the ocean whipped by a gale which made mountainous waves, a little boat, manned by men who had seen service with the U. S. Navy submarine chasers, put out from a New Jersey port with almost certain odds again them weathering the heavy seas.

Their frail craft tossed about on the stormy waters like an eggshell, they finally made it to within grappling distance of the beleaguered boat. Then their real troubles began. When they approached close to the ship the rescuing boat was likely to be dashed against it by the waves and crushed to oblivion.

"It may or may not have been a miracle," declares Jack Fromme, one of the heroes who helped save the forty passengers, "but we were not crushed. We took the people off the boat and, though we had a hard time, made it to shore with them."

Many Acts of Bravery

The terrible devastation done along the Atlantic Coast also brought forth many acts of extreme heroism. In one case the wife of a fisherman found that her husband was several miles out at sea, having been suddenly caught in the terrific storm. She put out in a small rowboat, without the least idea of the direction taken by her mate, and by a miracle of intuition went directly to the spot where he was laying in the bottom of his boat exhausted, after having been tossed about for hours by the angry waters. She pulled up alongside, pulled him into her boat and made the terrible trip back. When she got to the threshold of their humble cottage she fainted.

At Seabright, N. J., a couple were swept out to sea in tile bungalow, which had been suddenly carried away by the storm. Hundreds volunteered to make the rescue. Only a few were selected, and they dared the waves and saved the man and wife just as the waters were tearing the flimsy bungalow to pieces.

Wave Tosses Fisherman Out of Dory in Storm

1915

Victim of Accident Drowns Out From Boston

BOSTON, Mass., Dec. 16 — Just as the fishing schooner Elk, Capt. Patrick Murphy, arrived at the Fish Pier, South Boston, in the gray of dawn the other morning, with her colors at half-mast, Philip Kusa, aged 24, one of two men lost from the schooner a fortnight ago during a gale on Browns' Bank, came in aboard the Yarmouth steamer, reporting that his dorymate, Gordon Goodwin, aged 22, of East Publico, Mass., had been washed from his dory and drowned.

The drowned man was a brother of Griffin Goodwin of the schooner Flavilla.

The Elk had been fishing on Browns' for several days. One morning recently, the dorymen, fishing two in a boat, were out hauling trawls. At sundown, Kusa, making his first fishing trip, and Goodwin failed to report aboard.

There was a high wind blowing and a terrific sea. Captain Murphy sailed about searching for the two men, but without success.

Meanwhile the two dorymen were battling with a terrible sea. Their little boat was tossed about like an eggshell. Finally a vicious wave washed Goodwin clean out of the boat, while Kusa clung on for dear life.

Unable to do anything to save his companion young Kusa clung to his boat and watched his companion sink. All that night he was tossed about by the waters and all next day. About 5 o'clock that night, weak from lack of food and drink and unnerved by the fearful experience of seeing Goodwin drown, Kusa was picked up by the schooner Pauline.

The schooner landed him at Shelbourne and he secured passage to this port.

Bruin as a Fisherman

May 1902

Old hunters say that the black bear does a good deal of fishing at this season. It is said that carefully studying the sun and approaching so that his shadow will not be cast upon the waters, bruin creeps cautiously to where he sees the telltale fins, and dexterously throws the fish out of the water with a sweep of his paw.

A couple of lads came across a different kind of bear at St. Mary's Lake, near Hull, Canada.

This one preferred having some one else do the fish catching for him.

The boys had got a good sackful of pike, which they had left near a stump while they amused themselves on a raft they had thrown together. They looked ashore after a time to see a big bear walking off with the bag of fish over his shoulder.

He paid not the least attention to their shoutings, having, as it transpired, taken the precaution of breaking the stock of their gun across at the grip before carrying off the fish.


Lovers' Thrilling Experience

Fred Tieman and Miss Rosie Beard, living a few miles below Evansville, Ind., in trying to reach a preacher's house to be married, were forced to cross a long streak of bottomland covered with about ten feet of water. The buggy was upset and the occupants thrown out. Tieman held his sweetheart in his left arm while he cut the harness, freeing the horses from the buggy. The lovers then held on to the horse's tail until the shore was reached, a distance of nearly a mile. The wedding ceremony was postponed for a day. — St. Louis Republic.

Florida Man Has Team of Alligators Pulling His Boat

1901

LEE DRIVES A QUEER TEAM

Florida Man Who Employs Alligators to Tow His Boat

Jefferson Lee, who lives on the St. John's river, in Putnam county, Fla., has the most extraordinary team in the country. It is a team of alligators that Mr. Lee uses to tow his boat up and down the river when he goes to market.

Mr. Lee has to go six miles down the river to his post office, and it is a hard pull against the current, coming back. He noticed how swiftly alligators swam, and it occurred to him that it might be a good idea to turn the alligators that abound in the St. John's river to some account. He captured a pair of young 'gators and raised them in his yard. He taught them to swim and drag a weight behind them, and he also taught them to turn either to the right or left by pulling ropes fastened to their teeth on either side.

When the alligators were big enough he put a harness that he had constructed on them and harnessed them to his boat. They swam well and pulled the boat through the water at a good speed. By pulling the reins that passed through the mouths of the 'gators, Mr. Lee was able to turn his strange water team in the direction he pleased.

Mr. Lee made a point of never feeding his alligators until after they returned from a trip, when he would immediately reward each one with a fine meal.

The alligators seem to be willing to perform their task of pulling his boat, and when he turns them out of the pen in which they are stabled and starts them for the water, they shuffle down to the boat in the liveliest style, and after they are hitched they plunge into the water with grunts of delight.

Mr. Lee says his strange team has never run away nor kicked out the dashboard of his river craft, but that they have one fault, for which, however, he does not blame them. They sometimes sweep their powerful tails in a curve through the water, and once smashed one of his boats into little bits and threw Mr. Lee and a party that he was taking boat riding into the river. They would all have been drowned had not the alligators swam back to them and permitted the party to climb on their backs, after which the alligators swam swiftly to the shore and all the party were saved. Mr. Lee now hitches his team 20 feet in front of the boat, so that the sweep of their tails will not endanger the craft.

Mr. Lee's success has created great interest among all of his neighbors, and now many alligators are being trained for duty as sea horses. — Chicago Tribune.

An Enchanted Cavern – The Beauties of the Grotto of Capri

1887

An Enchanted Cavern

Beauties of the Grotto of Capri — An American Bicyclist's Adventure

Tradition has it that this "Grotta Azzura" was known in the earliest Roman times and then lost again in the Middle Ages, although the knowledge of its existence was preserved at Capri, and that in the last century it was rediscovered through chance — a shipwrecked sailor was dashed through the narrow opening in the cliff; recovered consciousness to find himself in heaven, as he thought — in reality upon a little ledge in the grotto — and escaped by swimming.

Can I not enter swimming when it would be impossible for a boat? The guide says, "No," but will take me out there, and it is worth the attempt; so watch and valuables are left at the hotel and we are off. On the way we meet a party returning, and upon reaching to the cave we find that the entrance, about three feet high and four broad, is filled by every wave and the spray sent dashing up the rocky sea wall I must enter as the wave recedes.

Undressing and leaping into the sea, I was tossed about a little by the waves, my mouth filled with salt water and I almost decided to give it up; but, after holding to the boat for a few moments and hearing the guide expatiate upon the "Grotta Bellissima," decided that I could risk a bit of a knock for the purpose of seeing one of nature's most beautiful creations. The boat was pushed as near as was safe and I made a plunge for the entrance, but just a little too late; I saw that the coming wave would catch me, and fearing a blow on the head — where even the felt hat I wore for that contingency would not have saved me — I dived on the instant, and the wave, coming roaring in, pushed me by its weight into the depths, instead of against the rocks. I think I must have gone down fifteen feet and been under the surface nearly a minute, for I swallowed an immense quantity of the salty fluid before I came up dazed, after a hard struggle, to find myself in smooth water, surrounded by a wonderful, supernatural, blue light, with countless stars gleaming above me. The water is very clear and seems to be fathomless, while my limbs are bright, polished, sparkling silver. Ideas of distance are lost; I can see for miles in every direction, up and down as well, and it is a surprise to me when, after swimming for ten minutes, I find myself at the other end of the grotto.

There was no resting place except a crevice in the rock for the fingers of one hand, and I hung there swinging back and forth and feasting on this wonderful sight — a feast half mingled with - fear as to my safe exit. The entrance appeared hopelessly far away, entirely closed every few seconds by the inrushing water, and then, upon its recession, admitting a ray from the outside world. The impression and experience is, under such circumstances, altogether indescribable and unearthly. After perhaps fifteen minutes I launched out once more, and swam, in fear and trembling, for the entrance; before reaching it two or three big waves came rushing in, tossing the salt spray into my eyes, and accompanied by a cold wind. I approached as near the entrance as I could, waited until a great wave dashed itself with full force into my face, struck out quickly, and, behold, I came out without the slightest trouble and seized the boat before the next wave came! — George P. Fiske, M. D.. in Outing.

Pittsburg Boy Takes Boating Bet, Threatened by Tramp

1897

IN A SKIFF

A Pittsburg Boy Made a Trip to This City.

He Made the Trip In Eighty Hours Actual Working Time and Thereby Wins His Expenses and a $25 Wager—Exciting Experience Enroute.

There arrived in the city Wednesday a couple of young men—John Phin and Godfrey Nelson by name—who have led an exciting life for the past two weeks.

The pair left Pittsburg just two weeks ago Wednesday in a small pine skiff, and one of them—Nelson— rowed the entire distance—four hundred miles—to the Portsmouth wharf. It appears that the young men are employed in one of the Pittsburg rolling mills. They belong to an athletic club, and a wager was recently made that Nelson could not row from Pittsburg to Portsmouth in eighty-five hours, actual working time. If he succeeded in doing it he was to receive his expenses and $25. He took up the offer and two weeks ago started on his trip. Phin came along to represent the club and see that he did not shirk his work and tie onto a passing boat. They covered ground rapidly, and when they rounded into the wharf here the actual rowing time was just eighty hours. They immediately wired the result to their friends in Pittsburg. They spent the morning here and left this afternoon for Cincinnati. They expect to return to Pittsburg on one of the packets the first of the week.

Mr. Nelson, who is a very pleasant gentleman, said to a Times reporter that the trip was a pleasant one and at times exciting. At a point near Marietta a tramp endeavored to take possession of the boat and was for dumping Nelson and his partner in the river. Nelson pulled a gun and bluffed the fellow off, however. They also had some trouble with shanty boatmen. Nelson has been tramping about the country for several years in the summer time and working in the Pittsburg mills in the winter. He is an expert oarsman and a fine walker.

—The Portsmouth Times, Portsmouth, OH, July 17, 1897, p. 1.