Sea Hunters True Adventures & Famous Shipwrecks by Cussler Clive

Author:Cussler, Clive [Cussler, Clive]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Toughest Find of All

July 1980 Through the centuries, sailors have been haunted by superstitions concerning their lives at sea. A woman on a ship was once considered unlucky. Ships with male instead of female names met unfortunate fates. No sailor would kill an albatross, a no-no long before the Ancient Mariner came along. In light of modern technology and progressive thinking, most sailors’ superstitions have been thrown overboard and forgotten. One tradition, however, still has its share of firm believers. They contend that it’s unlucky for a ship to sail from Port on a Friday. Right up until the Turn of the century, insurance companies charged an extra Premium for any ship that cast off for a voyage across the sea on a Friday.

In 1894, a Scots merchant and shipowner in Liverpool became incensed at having to compensate his captains and crews for laying over until Saturday. Nor was he excited by the prospect Of paying outrageous Premiums to greedy insurance company owners. He decided to explode the old wives’ tale once and for all time.

He ordered a ship built. The keel was laid on Friday. The vessel was launched on Friday and christened the Friday on Friday. A captain was even found whose name was Friday. Then, after loading an expensive cargo on board and refusing to insure it, the Scots merchant waved farewell as the good ship Friday, with Captain Friday at the helm, sailed off on Friday bound for New York.

The good ship Friday and her intrepid crew were never seen or heard from again.

There are unlucky ships and there are unlucky ships, but the Confederate submarine Hunley has to hold some kind of record. Three times she sank, two times she was raised. Over twenty men died within her iron walls. Nine still lie entombed there.

For someone like me, addicted to mysteries of the sea, Hunley cast a spell that I found about as irresistible as a starving cat staring at an overweight rodent exercising on a treadmill.

Through the decades after she triumphed and vanished into oblivion, many tried to find the little sub that could, and all failed.

Claims were made of discovery, but none were substantiated. No photo or proof was ever produced. All that was known for certain was that she was never seen again.

Theories abounded on the fate of the vessel. They were so numerous you had to pick a number before advancing a new one. Was she destroyed in the explosion or sucked into the hole she made in the Housatonic, as several researchers touted? Did her crew suffer from the effects of concussion and drift out to sea unconscious or dead before the sub sank? Could the blast have loosened her plates and rivets, causing her to sink before completing the return voyage to Breech Inlet? Suppose her crew, jubilant from the triumph, headed into Charleston Harbor to tell the populace and the city’s commander, General Pierre Beauregard, in person, and were run down by one of many Confederate harbor

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