The winds, again, exercise a great influence on the height of the tides. When the impulse of the wind is added to that of the attracting planet, the normal height of the wave is considerably increased. If the wind is contrary, the flux of the tide is almost annihilated. This happens in the Gulf of Vera Cruz, where the tide is only perceptible once in three days, when the wind blows with violence. An analogous phenomenon is observable on the coast of Tasmania.
Fig. 7. Point du Raz, Coast of Brittany.
The rising tide sometimes strikes the shore with a continuous and incredible force. This violent shock is called the surf. The swell then forms a billow, which expands to half a mile. The surf increases as it approaches the coast, when it sometimes attains the height of six or seven yards, forming an overhanging mountain of water, which gradually sinks as it rolls over itself. But this motion is not in reality progressive—it transports no floating body. The surf is very strong at the Isle of Fogo, one of the Cape de Verd Islands in the Indian Ocean, and at Sumatra, where the surf renders it dangerous and sometimes impossible to land on the coast. Fig. 7 represents the effects of the surf at Point du Raz, on the coast of Brittany. The winds adding their influence to these causes, give birth on the surface of the sea to waves or billows, which increase rapidly, rising in foaming mountains, rolling, bounding, and breaking one against the other. "In one moment," says Malte Brun, "the waves seem to carry sea-goddesses on its breast, which seem to revel amid plays and dances; in the next instant, a tempest rising out of them, seems to be animated by its fury. They seem to swell with passion, and we think we see in them marine monsters which are prepared for war. A strong, constant, and equal wind produces long swelling billows, which, rising on the same line, advance with a uniform movement, one after the other, precipitating themselves upon the coast. Sometimes these billows are suspended by the wind or arrested by some current, thus forming, as it were, a liquid wall. In this position, unhappy is the daring navigator who is subjected to its fury." The highest waves are those which prevail in the offing off the Cape of Good Hope at the period of high tide, under the influence of a strong north-west wind, which has traversed the South Atlantic, pressing its waters towards the Cape. "The billows there lift themselves up in long ridges," says Dr. Maury, "with deep hollows between them. They run high and fast, tossing their white caps aloft in the air, looking like the green hills of a rolling prairie capped with snow, and chasing each other in sport. Still, their march is stately, and their roll majestic. The scenery among them is grand. Many an Australian-bound trader, after doubling the Cape, finds herself followed for weeks at a time by these magnificent rolling swells, furiously driven and lashed by the "brave west winds." These billows are said to attain the height of thirty, and even forty feet; but no very exact measurement of the height of waves is recorded. One of these mountain waves placed between two ships conceals each of them from the other—an effect which is partially represented in Fig. 8. In rounding Cape Horn, waves are encountered from twenty to thirty feet high; but in the Channel they rarely exceed the height of nine or ten feet, except when they come in contact with some powerful resisting obstacle. Thus, when billows are dashed violently against the Eddystone Lighthouse, the spray goes right over the building, which stands a hundred and thirty feet above the sea, and falls in torrents on the roof. After the storm of Barbadoes in 1780, some old guns were found on the shore, which had been thrown up from the bottom of the sea by the force of the tempests.
Fig. 8. Height of Waves off the Cape of Good Hope.
If the waves, in their reflux, meet with obstacles, whirlpools and whirlwinds are the result—the former the terror of navigators. Such are the whirlpools known in the Straits of Messina, between the rocks of Charybdis and Scylla, celebrated as the terror of ancient mariners, and which were sung by Homer, Ovid, and Virgil:—
"Scylla latus dextrum, lævum irrequieta Charybdis,
Infestat; vorat hæc raptis revomitque carinas.
. . . Incidit in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim."