The Story of the Atlantic TelegraphField, Henry M. (Henry Martyn)
History
The Story of the Atlantic Telegraph
Field, Henry M. (Henry Martyn)
Transatlantic cables
It were idle to relate all the attempts of those two weeks. Every day
brought its excitement. Whenever the grapnel caught, there was a
suspense of many hours till it was brought on board. Several times they
seemed on the point of success. Two days after that fatal Friday, on
Sunday, August 19th, they caught the cable again, and brought it up
within a thousand fathoms of the ship, and buoyed it. But Monday and
Tuesday were too rough for work, and all their labor was in vain. Thus
it was a constant battle with the elements. Sometimes the wind blew
fiercely and drove them off their course. Sometimes the buoys broke
adrift and had to be pursued and taken. Once or twice the boatswain's
mate--a brave fellow, by the name of Thornton--was lowered in ropes over
the bow of the ship and let down astride of a buoy; and though it spun
round with him like a top, and his life was in danger, he held on and
fastened a chain to it, by which it was swung on board.
The continued bad weather was the chief obstacle to success. Engineers
had often grappled for cables in the North Sea and the Mediterranean;
but there they could look for at least a few days when the sea would be
at rest; but in the Atlantic it was impossible to calculate on good
weather for twenty-four hours. For nearly four weeks that they were at
sea, they had hardly four days of clear sunshine, without wind. Often
the ocean was covered with a driving mist, and the ships, groping about
like blind giants, kept blowing their shrill fog-trumpets, or firing
guns, as signals to their companions that they were still there.
Occasionally the sun shone out from the clouds, and gave them hope of
better success. Once or twice we find in the private journal kept by Mr.
Field, that it was "too calm;" there was not wind enough to drift the
ship over the cable, so that the rope hung up and down from the bow,
without dragging. One Sunday night he remembered, when the deep was
hushed to a Sabbath stillness, the moon was shining brightly, and the
ships floating over a "sea of glass," that suggested thoughts of a
better world than this. Such times gave them fresh hopes, that might be
disappointed on the morrow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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