Yank Sailors Wrecked on Wild Pacific Isle

1920

Two Modern "Crusoes" and Brides Rescued by Jap Ship.

YOKOHAMA, Japan. — Two American sailors named W. V. Dawson and E. Clifton have reached here after exciting experiences in the South seas. Their term of naval service expiring on the American island of Guam, they wedded native daughters of Uncle Sam's island and decided to take a honeymoon trip to Australia.

They embarked in a 40-foot launch. Underestimating the distance, they soon discovered that their food and fuel were exhausted. Then came a typhoon. The fragile craft was wrecked and the four newly married young people were thrown upon a desert isle, which they found entirely uninhabited.

There doubtless they would have continued a Robinson Crusoe type of existence had not a small Japanese trading vessel put in for water. They were rescued and taken to the former German island of Yap, where later they embarked on a Japanese naval supply steamer for Yokohama.

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

Two Jobs Well Done

By W. D. Boyce (W. D. Boyce's Talks)

The year 1919 had many problems. The biggest was to get our boys back from across the sea, get them settled in the jobs they held before the war and find other places for men and women who had taken their jobs while they were gone. The next biggest problem was the Red menace. The spirit of unrest developed by war was felt to a moderate degree in this country thru the efforts of the Bolshevists, I. W. W. and Red Socialists to make trouble. The strong arm of Uncle Sam reached out and interfered with these plans to make trouble and we are sending the alien Reds back to their fatherlands as fast as we can get ships and putting the trouble makers who are citizens of the United States, but don't like our Government, in the penitentiaries as rapidly as the courts can act. This element, however, will require constant watching.

It is amusing to see the Bolshevists and I. W. W. bunch point with pride to Soviet Russia, then kick violently when we prepare to send them back there on a free ticket. It is puzzling to the Government to know what to do with this half-crazy, insane, bombastic and dangerous element. I often have thought the best solution of the question would be to take one of the Philippine Islands or some other island we own and control and put the whole bunch — citizens and non-citizens, on it and let them run a Government of their own to suit themselves and at the same time let them feed themselves. Already we are using one of the Philippine group as a place to which we send the Filipinos who are not dangerous criminals, but who insist upon trying to make trouble for the Government. Why not another island for the Reds? They couldn't get off it and no one could get on it.

I doubt whether we have the right to send back to their native lands the aliens who develop Red or Bolshevist streaks after they arrive in this country. They may not have been that kind or held radical beliefs when they came over here, and so why should we send them back later anymore than we would deport an immigrant who came over in perfect physical condition and later developed some disease? Some day we may get into a lot of trouble with some country because we send back their citizens after they have been in the United States for some time.

In the first place we never ought to permit a politically Red or unhealthy man or woman to land in the United States. If we do we ought to be responsible for them ever after if they want to stay here, but at the same time have some place to put them if they try to make trouble for us. So I suggest that one of the 3,000 islands which we own might be used for that purpose. We ought never to let any of these aliens leave their native lands for this country until they have passed an examination and investigation by consular agents or representatives of our Bureau of Immigration. The stop order should be put in before the loss is made.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 6.

Bold Pirates Attack Ships Near Mexico

1920

Modern Red Rovers Recall Days of Captain Kidd — U. S. May Act to End Ravages

Buccaneers and pirates are swarming in the Pacific off the west coast of Mexico — freebooters in high leather boots, who swear terrible oaths and carry huge swords. Just as if they had stepped out of the pages of story books or had come to life again from the days of Captain Kidd, these marine highwaymen are waging their nefarious trade much as did the pirates of the old Spanish Main. From Mazatlan the Mexican government has dispatched a naval expedition equipped for two months' service and which it is hoped will be able to rout the outlaws.

From time to time into the ports on the Pacific coast of the United States, in the places where sailormen gather, there have come rumors of these bands of pirates. Mostly they have been put down to overindulgence in forbidden liquor or a desire to shine in the spotlight with wild and improbable tales. But now the discovery has been made that these pirates actually are infesting the seas and the stories that once were sneered at or dismissed with a pitying smile are avidly listened to.

Small Vessels Their Victims

In wild and almost inaccessible caves on the lonely islands off the Mexican coast these buccaneers have their hiding places. Tramp steamers, coastwise trading vessels and sailing ships with small crews are their victims. They appear at the break of dawn, sail boldly up to their prey, swarm over the sides, battle the crews and loot the ships. Then they sail away with their holds loaded with booty, to hide it in their caves until a favorable opportunity presents itself to smuggle the loot into the United States at some lonely point on the coast or into one of the less usually watched parts.

Who are these men and where do they come from? They do not seem to belong to any one nationality. Americans, Europeans, Mexicans, a Jap and a Chinese or two — these make up the motley crew of the pirate ships, according to J. C. Robinson, who recently arrived at San Francisco, Cal., with a thrilling tale of his capture and his adventures at the hiding place of the gang.

Pirates Overcame Crew

"They took me off the sailing ship Marie Penman," says Robinson. "I had stood my watch and was in my bunk in the forecastle. I learned afterward there had been a battle on deck and that the pirates had overcome the crew, but I was so tired I didn't hear any of the noise of the scuffle. The first I knew was when I was roughly shaken and awoke to find a pirate holding me by the shoulder. I rubbed my eyes and believed that I was dreaming, because he looked just like the pirates of whom I had read in my boyhood days. But I quickly saw that it was no dream, for I was jerked to my feet and ordered on deck.

"There the pirate chief, a big, black-mustached man who wore big boots to above his knees, carried a huge cutlass and swore the most blood-curdling oaths, put me to work helping transfer some of our cargo to the pirate ship. I was frightened and I worked hard, and when the pirates left they took me with them. Why I do not know.

"A day or two later we made port in a lonely island. I haven't the least idea where it was. The pirate ship just sailed straight toward it, and just when I was beginning to think that we were going to bump square into a huge cliff an opening appeared and our ship twisted through it into a little bay. Back in the edge of the hills, a half mile from the sandy shore where we landed the cargo, there was quite a settlement of these pirates. Evidently the ship which had attacked the Marie Penman was only one of several pirate vessels.

U. S. May Take Action

"They didn't pay much attention to me — just let me run around and do what I wanted to. I heard a lot of their plans, ate with them, slept with them and it seemed they had forgotten I did not belong to the band. When the chief who had captured me sailed away the next time he took me along. We raided a small schooner, and when the pirate ship was leaving I managed to remain aboard the schooner, upon which I worked my way back to a port in Lower California, from which I worked my way to Frisco." Robinson has been asked to tell his story to Navy officials, who say that if such a pirate nest exists the United States may take a hand in helping to wipe it out.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1900, p. 1.

Have Got Beyond Feeling

1902

The people of Martinique, or those who still cling to that unfortunate island, will probably not be alarmed by the scientific report that it is likely to sink out of sight, says the Chicago Inter Ocean. They are probably beyond the reach of alarm by this time.


Lucky Old Maids

Woman insure against being old maids in Denmark, says the New York Mail and Express. If they marry before they are 40 what they have paid goes to the less fortunate, and these last are pensioned for the remainder of their lives on a scale proportioned on what they paid in.


Starving in Galicia

In Galicia the wage of the farm laborer has been so reduced that he is starving to death on a pittance of from three to 16 cents a day.


Index of Cleanliness

The average French person uses six pounds of soap in a year; the average English person uses ten pounds.


Will Follow a Swiss Model

Swiss postal officials are to be employed to assist in the reorganization of the Japanese post office. The Swiss postal system is to be taken as a model.

Prison Doors Never Locked

1910

Odd Place for "Confinement" on Sark, One of the Beautiful Channel Islands

Sark, the loveliest of the channel islands, possesses a quaint old prison of two cells, more as a matter of form than of necessity; for serious crime is almost unknown in the island, which has no paid police, but simply an elected constable. It is some years since the prison was called into requisition, and on the last occasion the bolt was found to be so rusty that it had to be broken before the door could be opened. The prisoner was then put in, left all night with the door open, and made no attempt to escape.

On another occasion a young English servant, who had stolen some clothes, was sentenced to three days' imprisonment. The prospect so terrified her that the authorities took pity on her loneliness and considerately left the cell open. The little maid sat in the doorway and was consoled by kindhearted Sark women, who came to her company.

A still more curious incident is told of a man who was convicted for neglecting his wife and children. He was ordered to betake himself to the prison and there wait for the arrival of the constable. This he did sitting outside until the door was opened to let him in.

Marken Island Old Style

1917

Ancient Manners Are Still Observed and Historic Costumes Are Worn by the Inhabitants

Marken island is a bit of the old Holland, an inlet lying in the Zuyder Zee not far from Edam, of cheese fame. Holland is rapidly becoming modernized nowadays; the blue bloomer of the canal boatmen has gone the way of the wooden shoe, well toward oblivion, although the latter, it is said, is becoming increasingly popular with the price of leather soaring, writes Niksah. The Dutch are rapidly abandoning the old ways that endeared them to the artists of bygone generations, so that any spot where the traditional customs are still preserved is worthy of note as a living museum of history.

Such a spot is Marken island, where old manners are still followed and the old costumes still worn. Separated by only a narrow channel from the progressive mainland, it is none the less fifty years behind the times. It seems to be characteristic of small islands that they progress much more slowly than mainland whence their people came. Thus in the Arran Islands off the coast of Ireland the old Irish tongue is still spoken; in the Hebrides men still live as they lived in the days of Scott, and on Marken island the men still go down to the fishing boats in bloomers and wooden shoes.

The dark blue bloomer is the mark of the married man, while the single men wear white — a somewhat illogical arrangement in view of the facilities for laundry work that married men ought to have. The women wear the old-time costumes and carry their knitting about with them on the streets. Every one of the houses is exceedingly small and almost unbelievably clean. There are not more than 300 people all told in this little colony of fishermen.

Marken is quaint and old-fashioned, but it lacks the touch of self-unconsciousness to make it perfect. In all the little shops yon can purchase picture postal cards depicting scenes that are "quaint" and "typical." And when a region begins to realize that it is picturesque it has taken the first step on the road to the commonplace.

With Heaps of Wool, They Spin It by Hand

They Spin by Hand

1896

The hum of the spinning wheel is still a familiar sound in Block Island, quaint and interesting resort in summer and a miniature world in winter, in which the habits and customs are those of one hundred and fifty years ago. The island is fifteen miles off the Rhode Island shore and almost directly south of stormy Point Judith.

The heads of thirty Block Island families set sail in fishing boats the other day and pushed up the Thames River to Oakdale, where they left heaps of wool to be carded into rolls for hand spinning. The rolls will be spun and knitted into stockings and mittens for the protection of the hardy islanders against the bleak winter winds of the Atlantic.

There are times during the winter when the wind sweeps across the treeless land at a velocity of eighty-four miles an hour, and women take their lives in their hands when they venture out of doors. The isolation of the island is almost complete.

John Schofield established the first woolen mill in Connecticut near Oakdale, where the carding was done by power cards. In 1798 the Block Islanders began to send wool to the mill to be carded into rolls, and generation after generation have kept up the practice. Formerly many bags of grain accompanied the wool, and grist and woolen mills were kept running day and night, while the fishermen and farmers enjoyed themselves in the quiet Connecticut village until the work was done. — New York Herald.

Robinson Crusoe's Island Inhabited

1893

The People Who Now Inhabit the Refuge of DeFoe's Hero

It is not generally known that Juan Fernandez — the island on which Alexander Selkirk, the Robinson Crusoe of romance, lived for so many years — is at the present time inhabited.

Two valleys, winding down from different directions, join a short distance back from the shore and here now stands a little village of small huts scattered round a long, low, one storied building, with a veranda running its whole length. In this house lives a man who rents the island from the Chilean government, and the village is made up of a few German and Chilean families.

The tiny town is called San Juan Bautista, and the craterlike arm of the sea on which it is situated and where Alexander Selkirk first landed is now called Cumberland bay. The island is rented for about £200 a year. The rent is paid partly in dried fish. Catching and drying the many varieties of fish and raising cattle and vegetables wholly occupy the contented settlers, and much of their little income is obtained from the cattle and vegetables sold to passing vessels.

The cattle need no care, and the vegetables almost grow wild. Turnips and radishes, first sown here by Selkirk himself, now grow rank and wild in the valleys like weeds. There is also a race of wild dogs which completely overrun the island, depending for existence mainly upon seals. They are the descendants of a breed left by the Spaniards.

At the back of the little town in the first high cliffs is a row of caves of remarkable appearance hewn into the sandstone. An unused path leads to them, and a short climb brings one to their dark mouths. About 40 years ago the Chilean government thought that a good way to be rid of its worst criminals would be to transport them to the island of Juan Fernandez. Here, under the direction of Chilean soldiers, these poor wretches were made to dig caves to live in. In 1854 they were taken back again, however, and the caves have since been slowly crumbling away.

The narrow ridge where Selkirk watched is now called "the saddle," because at either end of it a big rocky hummock rises like a pommel. On one of these is now a large tablet with inscriptions commemorating Alexander Selkirk's long and lonesome stay on the island. It was placed there in 1868 by the officers of the British ship Topaz.

A small excursion steamer now runs from Valparaiso to Juan Fernandez island. The round trip is made in six days, and three of these may he spent on the island in fishing and visiting those lonely but beautiful spots which, nearly 200 years ago, were the haunts of Robinson Crusoe. — Melbourne Argus.

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.

"Union of the Isles" — Poetry on Maury and Vashon Islands

1898

UNION OF THE ISLES

A Legend of Puget Sound

By Mary Bynon Reese

["The Portage" is a small strip of sand uniting Maury and Vashon Islands, and separating Chautauqua Bay and Quartermaster Harbor. The adjacent scenery is exquisite.]

Ages ago, when Time was young
And earth a paradise untrod,
Two isles, to gem an island sea,
Dropped radiant from the hand of God.
Resplendent at Creation's dawn,
They stood together, side by side,
Bold Maury and the fair Vashon,
Expectant lover, waiting bride.

Their pines in recognition swayed,
And friendly zephyrs greeting bore,
But cruel barriers rolled between
That separated shore from shore;
Rude taunting voices of the waves,
Harsh tones that come twixt heart and heart,
Cried: "Ever we shall flow between
And ever you must dwell apart."

Then pitying sands came drifting in,
Nor drifted back, the legend runs,
And day by day, and grain by grain,
They nearer brought those severed ones,
Till tides forgot to flow between,
And shore clasped shore, as heart does heart,
Now sing the isles: — "We two are one,
But you proud waves must dwell apart."

—Steubenville Herald-Star, Steubenville, OH, March 5, 1898, p. 8.

Note: Here's a link to the area.

The Scenic Beauty of Alaska, Mt. McKinley

1916

A Grand Panorama That Reaches Its Climax In Mount McKinley.

A careful reading of literature pertaining to Alaska prepared me in part for what the journey was bound to disclose, but seeing is the only sense that can give knowledge and secure appreciation of the grandeur, the sublimity, the fascinating beauty of mountain, sea, stream, fiord, falls, islands, forests, cloud and the glorious color effects which the dazzling rays of the sun bring into existence. In connection with all these is a land of enchantment for all who love and can appreciate nature.

Cook Inlet, with its arms and reaches, has many bewildering channels, resulting from the numerous rugged islands. The forbidding and embattled shores rising into lofty mountains and at present swathed in white almost to the water's edge possess a virility, a grandeur and sublimity which require the most poetic imagination and most facile pen even faintly to portray. The grand panorama reaches its climax in Mount McKinley, monarch of the North American continent. With its altitude of 20,400 feet it stands alone in lofty pride and is distinctly visible from the vessel notwithstanding the very great distance. This fact well establishes the quality of the clarified and invigorating atmosphere of this far north country.

The Thousand Islands with all their beauty would scarcely serve as a prelude to the surpassing grandeur and loveliness of the many thousand islands that adorn the 3,000 miles of Alaskan coast. The fiords of Norway, the farfamed glaciers of Switzerland, cannot compare with their counterparts to be found in Alaska in number, variety, size, color effect and all the qualities that give charm to these works of nature. — Hon. A. Barton Hepburn in Leslie's.

Famous Composer Found His Bride in a Tomb

1915

Romance in Life of a Famous Venetian Composer — Sister Substituted Herself in Coffin

Benedetto Marcello, one of the most famous Venetian composers, fell in love with a beautiful girl named Leonora Manfritto, who married Paolo Seranzo, a Venetian noble. She died in a short time after her marriage, a victim of the harsh and jealous treatment of her husband.

Her body was laid out in state in one of the churches, and her lover actually succeeded in stealing the corpse and conveying it to a ruined crypt in one of the islands, and here he sat day and night by his lost love, singing and playing to her, as though by the force of his art he could recall her to life, says the London Telegraph.

Leonora had a twin sister, Eliade, who was so like her that her closest friends could scarcely distinguish them. One day Eliade heard a singer in a gondola singing so exquisitely that she traced the gondola to the deserted island, and then she learned later the fate of her sister's corpse and the identity of Marcello. Aided by a servant, Eliade substituted herself for her sister's body, and when Marcello returned and called Leonora to awake he did not ask in vain, for apparently she rose alive from her coffin. Marcello, when he found out the delusion, was quite satisfied and married Eliade, but his happiness was short lived, as he died a few years afterward.

—New Smyrna Daily News, New Smyrna Beach, Florida, October 29, 1915, page 4.