The fact that my men, while fishing in different parts of the bay, often caught deep-sea fish, proved to me that Port No Man’s Port was traversed by a channel from four to six fathoms in depth.
The only difficulty would be to fix the boundaries of this constantly shifting path long enough to sail across the basin.
I next turned my attention to the whirlpool. It marked the junction of the outer channel with the basin of Port No Man’s Port.
Having purchased a number of condemned hulks for the purpose of testing the strength and fury of the whirlpool, I caused a strong hawser to be rigged to a capstan on shore, and was in this way enabled to let the launch approach within a ship’s length of the whirlpool with perfect safety. In truth, it was, when roused to the full measure of its fury by the intrusion of any large floating body, a sight to strike terror to the stoutest heart!
With a deep booming and rumble, its waters rose in tumultuous commotion, boiling, bubbling, seething, till snow-white foam covered the pool like a mantle of bleached linen, then lifting the intruder, which in this case was one of the hulks that I had ordered to be launched upon them, these angered waters whirled it completely around. In an instant, as if exhausted by this tremendous effort, a mysterious calm sank upon the pool. The foam-sheet, broken in shreds, danced gently on the rippling bosom of the waters. All was peace, save that the hulk still lay trembling like an affrighted being in the lap of this resting monster!
For, look! It is aroused again. Faster and faster it whirls its prey. Deeper and deeper its now wide-opened jaws draw down the ill-fated hulk!
A terrible roar tells that the end is near!
’Tis gone!
Ay, but wait! It will give up its prey again!
Even now bits of plank float seaward, dancing on the rushing waters.