ADRIFT AT SEA.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXII, Issue 7383, 18 July 1885, Page 2 (Supplement)

ADRIFT AT SEA.

A FLYING DUTCHMAN VOYAGE. It would be hard to find anywhere in fiction or history a more grotesque and weird horror than that furnished by the "Flying Dutchman" voyage of the Norwegian barquentine Dona Zoyla, which came to New York recently. Whether the voyage of this fever and scurvy haunted vessel is to bo crowned with loss of life cannot yet be told. But, after the forty-three days spent within the valley of the shadow of death and in the vale of corruption, death itself can have few terrors for the stricken crew. The particulars of the Dona Zoyla's extraordinary voyage were hard to gather. She lay quietly at anchor off Tompkinsville, and able hands from the shore had been sent on board to put things in order and attend to the wants of the sick men who remained on board. One of these was the mate, Knivre, under whose command the voyage was made. He was the only one out of eight able to be about. Two others were fast recovering, while a> fourth was too sick to bo sent ashore. The other four seamen had been sent to Brooklyn in a tug, and takeu to the Long Island College Hospital. A reporter called in the afternoon, .ind was told that they were doing very well, but that they were very sick men. The only man who could give the particulars of that dreadful trip wa3 the mate, and he, like most Norwegian bailors, po«3o3sed little fund of observance, but took the hardships of tho sea as a matter of course, even when they carried him to the borders of the grave. Mr. Knivre could not speak enough English to count, and the facts of his story wero obtained through an interpreter. About three months ago the Dona Zoyla was at tho port of Maroim, Brazil, a small town in the affected district of that fever • stricken country. After discharging her outward cargo hlio took on a return cargo of sugar, and filled the water barrels with such drinking fluid as the place could boast of. It ' was villainous looking and smelling stuff, and probably was the cause of subsequent sufferings. Before tho vessel got under weigh the men began to drop down ioto the sick list. A hurried departure wae made, but the fever with whioh the men, among others Captain Govansen, were alllicted grow so alarming in its nature that the Dona Zoyla put into Aracaju, aud the captain and two mon were sent ashore to the hospital, dangerously sick. The rest of the crew were more or less affeoted by the trouble, but they grew better, and it was decided to run for iNew York. The barquentine left Aracaju on the 14th of April, with mute Kuivre in command, and a crew of eight instead of eleven. It was hoped that the air of the open sea would restoro all hands to their usual health and strength. Vain hope! The trouble began aoou after leaving port. The hardy follows, drinking the poisonous water, because they had no better to drink, gave up one by one, and crawled into the forecastle, thero to toes at regular intervals in the delirium of intermittent fever. Those who kept up divided their time between the duties of seamen and nurses, but soon there were only three nien abla to be about, then two, and, finally, the mate alone, and he was sick himself. Then a new horror developed itself. The vessel, short of hands to work her properly, was making very poor progress, aud tho fresh provisions gavo out. Scurvy, that loathsome disease of the prison and the badly-fed ship, broke out iu its most violent form, and the mouths of the unhappy men were soon black with the sores ot this dreadful disease. The men suffered dreadfully, and death to auy of thdin would havo doubtless been a happy relief. Eight days before tho vessel arrived at New York she was north of Cape Hatteras. How was she to make port ? The winds were not unfavourable, but there was no ono to take advantage of them. The fore and aft sails were set, but the others were flying loosely. With true Norwegian fortitude tho mate hung to the wheel hour aftor hour, striviug to work the craft northwards. But it was little more than a derelict —a living derelict —floating helplessly about at the mercy of wind and current. Could auy situation be more horrible? It wis a scene iu which the weird pen of Edgar A. Poe would revel. The helpless yet uninjured ehip, which a slight gale nould send to the bottom of the eea ; the writhing and loathsome humanity in the forecastle ; the weak, but undaunted fellow at the wheel ; only a few miles away the longed-for harbour; within sight, passing and re-pa3sing vessels, and no ono to raise signals of distress even : this was the story of the Dona Zoyla for eight successive days.