Poe, Edgar Allen - The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe

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by Volume 01-05 (lit)


  the sixty-eighth degree of latitude - in the great province of

  Nordland - and in the dreary district of Lofoden. The mountain upon

  whose top we sit is Helseggen, the Cloudy. Now raise yourself up a

  little higher - hold on to the grass if you feel giddy - so - and

  look out, beyond the belt of vapor beneath us, into the sea."

  I looked dizzily, and beheld a wide expanse of ocean, whose

  waters wore so inky a hue as to bring at once to my mind the Nubian

  geographer's account of the _Mare Tenebrarum_. A panorama more

  deplorably desolate no human imagination can conceive. To the right

  and left, as far as the eye could reach, there lay outstretched, like

  ramparts of the world, lines of horridly black and beetling cliff,

  whose character of gloom was but the more forcibly illustrated by the

  surf which reared high up against its white and ghastly crest,

  howling and shrieking forever. Just opposite the promontory upon

  whose apex we were placed, and at a distance of some five or six

  miles out at sea, there was visible a small, bleak-looking island ;

  or, more properly, its position was discernible through the

  wilderness of surge in which it was enveloped. About two miles nearer

  the land, arose another of smaller size, hideously craggy and barren,

  and encompassed at various intervals by a cluster of dark rocks.

  The appearance of the ocean, in the space between the more

  distant island and the shore, had something very unusual about it.

  Although, at the time, so strong a gale was blowing landward that a

  brig in the remote offing lay to under a double-reefed trysail, and

  constantly plunged her whole hull out of sight, still there was here

  nothing like a regular swell, but only a short, quick, angry cross

  dashing of water in every direction - as well in the teeth of the

  wind as otherwise. Of foam there was little except in the immediate

  vicinity of the rocks.

  "The island in the distance," resumed the old man, "is called by

  the Norwegians Vurrgh. The one midway is Moskoe. That a mile to the

  northward is Ambaaren. Yonder are Islesen, Hotholm, Keildhelm,

  Suarven, and Buckholm. Farther off - between Moskoe and Vurrgh - are

  Otterholm, Flimen, Sandflesen, and Stockholm. These are the true

  names of the places - but why it has been thought necessary to name

  them at all, is more than either you or I can understand. Do you hear

  anything ? Do you see any change in the water ?"

  We had now been about ten minutes upon the top of Helseggen, to

  which we had ascended from the interior of Lofoden, so that we had

  caught no glimpse of the sea until it had burst upon us from the

  summit. As the old man spoke, I became aware of a loud and gradually

  increasing sound, like the moaning of a vast herd of buffaloes upon

  an American prairie; and at the same moment I perceived that what

  seamen term the _chopping_ character of the ocean beneath us, was

  rapidly changing into a current which set to the eastward. Even while

  I gazed, this current acquired a monstrous velocity. Each moment

  added to its speed - to its headlong impetuosity. In five minutes the

  whole sea, as far as Vurrgh, was lashed into ungovernable fury ; but

  it was between Moskoe and the coast that the main uproar held its

  sway. Here the vast bed of the waters, seamed and scarred into a

  thousand conflicting channels, burst suddenly into phrensied

  convulsion - heaving, boiling, hissing - gyrating in gigantic and

  innumerable vortices, and all whirling and plunging on to the

  eastward with a rapidity which water never elsewhere assumes except

  in precipitous descents.

  In a few minutes more, there came over the scene another radical

  alteration. The general surface grew somewhat more smooth, and the

  whirlpools, one by one, disappeared, while prodigious streaks of foam

  became apparent where none had been seen before. These streaks, at

  length, spreading out to a great distance, and entering into

  combination, took unto themselves the gyratory motion of the subsided

  vortices, and seemed to form the germ of another more vast. Suddenly

  - very suddenly - this assumed a distinct and definite existence, in

  a circle of more than a mile in diameter. The edge of the whirl was

  represented by a broad belt of gleaming spray ; but no particle of

  this slipped into the mouth of the terrific funnel, whose interior,

  as far as the eye could fathom it, was a smooth, shining, and

  jet-black wall of water, inclined to the horizon at an angle of some

  forty-five degrees, speeding dizzily round and round with a swaying

  and sweltering motion, and sending forth to the winds an appalling

  voice, half shriek, half roar, such as not even the mighty cataract

  of Niagara ever lifts up in its agony to Heaven.

  The mountain trembled to its very base, and the rock rocked. I

  threw myself upon my face, and clung to the scant herbage in an

  excess of nervous agitation.

  "This," said I at length, to the old man - "this _can_ be nothing

  else than the great whirlpool of the Maelström."

  "So it is sometimes termed," said he. "We Norwegians call it the

  Moskoe-ström, from the island of Moskoe in the midway."

  The ordinary accounts of this vortex had by no means prepared me

  for what I saw. That of Jonas Ramus, which is perhaps the most

  circumstantial of any, cannot impart the faintest conception either

  of the magnificence, or of the horror of the scene - or of the wild

  bewildering sense of _the novel_ which confounds the beholder. I am

  not sure from what point of view the writer in question surveyed it,

  nor at what time ; but it could neither have been from the summit of

  Helseggen, nor during a storm. There are some passages of his

  description, nevertheless, which may be quoted for their details,

  although their effect is exceedingly feeble in conveying an

  impression of the spectacle.

  "Between Lofoden and Moskoe," he says, "the depth of the water is

  between thirty-six and forty fathoms ; but on the other side, toward

  Ver (Vurrgh) this depth decreases so as not to afford a convenient

  passage for a vessel, without the risk of splitting on the rocks,

  which happens even in the calmest weather. When it is flood, the

  stream runs up the country between Lofoden and Moskoe with a

  boisterous rapidity ; but the roar of its impetuous ebb to the sea

  is scarce equalled by the loudest and most dreadful cataracts ; the

  noise being heard several leagues off, and the vortices or pits are

  of such an extent and depth, that if a ship comes within its

  attraction, it is inevitably absorbed and carried down to the bottom,

  and there beat to pieces against the rocks ; and when the water

  relaxes, the fragments thereof are thrown up again. But these

  intervals of tranquility are only at the turn of the ebb and flood,

  and in calm weather, and last but a quarter of an hour, its violence

  gradually returning. When the stream is most boisterous, and its fury

  heightened by a storm, it is dangerous to come within a Norway mile

  of it. Boats, yachts, and ships have been carried away by not

/>   guarding against it before they were within its reach. It likewise

  happens frequently, that whales come too near the stream, and are

  overpowered by its violence; and then it is impossible to describe

  their howlings and bellowings in their fruitless struggles to

  disengage themselves. A bear once, attempting to swim from Lofoden to

  Moskoe, was caught by the stream and borne down, while he roared

  terribly, so as to be heard on shore. Large stocks of firs and pine

  trees, after being absorbed by the current, rise again broken and

  torn to such a degree as if bristles grew upon them. This plainly

  shows the bottom to consist of craggy rocks, among which they are

  whirled to and fro. This stream is regulated by the flux and reflux

  of the sea - it being constantly high and low water every six hours.

  In the year 1645, early in the morning of Sexagesima Sunday, it raged

  with such noise and impetuosity that the very stones of the houses on

  the coast fell to the ground."

  In regard to the depth of the water, I could not see how this

  could have been ascertained at all in the immediate vicinity of the

  vortex. The "forty fathoms" must have reference only to portions of

  the channel close upon the shore either of Moskoe or Lofoden. The

  depth in the centre of the Moskoe-ström must be immeasurably greater

  ; and no better proof of this fact is necessary than can be obtained

  from even the sidelong glance into the abyss of the whirl which may

  be had from the highest crag of Helseggen. Looking down from this

  pinnacle upon the howling Phlegethon below, I could not help smiling

  at the simplicity with which the honest Jonas Ramus records, as a

  matter difficult of belief, the anecdotes of the whales and the

  bears; for it appeared to me, in fact, a self-evident thing, that the

  largest ship of the line in existence, coming within the influence of

  that deadly attraction, could resist it as little as a feather the

  hurricane, and must disappear bodily and at once.

  The attempts to account for the phenomenon - some of which, I

  remember, seemed to me sufficiently plausible in perusal - now wore a

  very different and unsatisfactory aspect. The idea generally received

  is that this, as well as three smaller vortices among the Ferroe

  islands, "have no other cause than the collision of waves rising and

  falling, at flux and reflux, against a ridge of rocks and shelves,

  which confines the water so that it precipitates itself like a

  cataract ; and thus the higher the flood rises, the deeper must the

  fall be, and the natural result of all is a whirlpool or vortex, the

  prodigious suction of which is sufficiently known by lesser

  experiments." - These are the words of the Encyclopædia Britannica.

  Kircher and others imagine that in the centre of the channel of the

  Maelström is an abyss penetrating the globe, and issuing in some very

  remote part - the Gulf of Bothnia being somewhat decidedly named in

  one instance. This opinion, idle in itself, was the one to which, as

  I gazed, my imagination most readily assented ; and, mentioning it

  to the guide, I was rather surprised to hear him say that, although

  it was the view almost universally entertained of the subject by the

  Norwegians, it nevertheless was not his own. As to the former notion

  he confessed his inability to comprehend it ; and here I agreed with

  him - for, however conclusive on paper, it becomes altogether

  unintelligible, and even absurd, amid the thunder of the abyss.

  "You have had a good look at the whirl now," said the old man,

  "and if you will creep round this crag, so as to get in its lee, and

  deaden the roar of the water, I will tell you a story that will

  convince you I ought to know something of the Moskoe-ström."

  I placed myself as desired, and he proceeded.

  "Myself and my two brothers once owned a schooner-rigged smack of

  about seventy tons burthen, with which we were in the habit of

  fishing among the islands beyond Moskoe, nearly to Vurrgh. In all

  violent eddies at sea there is good fishing, at proper opportunities,

  if one has only the courage to attempt it ; but among the whole of

  the Lofoden coastmen, we three were the only ones who made a regular

  business of going out to the islands, as I tell you. The usual

  grounds are a great way lower down to the southward. There fish can

  be got at all hours, without much risk, and therefore these places

  are preferred. The choice spots over here among the rocks, however,

  not only yield the finest variety, but in far greater abundance ; so

  that we often got in a single day, what the more timid of the craft

  could not scrape together in a week. In fact, we made it a matter of

  desperate speculation - the risk of life standing instead of labor,

  and courage answering for capital.

  "We kept the smack in a cove about five miles higher up the coast

  than this ; and it was our practice, in fine weather, to take

  advantage of the fifteen minutes' slack to push across the main

  channel of the Moskoe-ström, far above the pool, and then drop down

  upon anchorage somewhere near Otterholm, or Sandflesen, where the

  eddies are not so violent as elsewhere. Here we used to remain until

  nearly time for slack-water again, when we weighed and made for home.

  We never set out upon this expedition without a steady side wind for

  going and coming - one that we felt sure would not fail us before our

  return - and we seldom made a mis-calculation upon this point. Twice,

  during six years, we were forced to stay all night at anchor on

  account of a dead calm, which is a rare thing indeed just about here

  ; and once we had to remain on the grounds nearly a week, starving

  to death, owing to a gale which blew up shortly after our arrival,

  and made the channel too boisterous to be thought of. Upon this

  occasion we should have been driven out to sea in spite of

  everything, (for the whirlpools threw us round and round so

  violently, that, at length, we fouled our anchor and dragged it) if

  it had not been that we drifted into one of the innumerable cross

  currents - here to-day and gone to-morrow - which drove us under the

  lee of Flimen, where, by good luck, we brought up.

  "I could not tell you the twentieth part of the difficulties we

  encountered 'on the grounds' - it is a bad spot to be in, even in

  good weather - but we made shift always to run the gauntlet of the

  Moskoe-ström itself without accident ; although at times my heart

 

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