Telling stories | Learning of South American adventures at grandfather's house
Many years ago when I was a kid, I didn't know I'd end up as a Maine storyteller, among other things. All I knew back then was that I enjoyed listening to stories from my grandfather and uncles and the authentic characters they knew, characters I got to know and listen to when I visited my various relatives. I enjoyed their stories so much, I eventually told a few of them myself, while trying to imitate the other storytellers' styles. I later learned that most storytellers do things like that.
Back then, my family had a nice television set located in our family room. By the time I got interested in storytelling, there was very little on TV that I wanted to watch -- is there ever? So, if I wanted good entertainment, I'd go down to grandfather's house instead and sit and listen to him and the other scholars who gathered there to tell tales of their adventures.
One topic that came up more often than most was Cape Horn, that far-away point of land on the tip of South America. Grandfather's friends enjoyed telling stories about the various Maine ships that had sailed around "the horn" over the years. (If you want to see some beautiful paintings of ships rounding the horn, visit the Maine Maritime Museum in Bath.)
Cape Horn is known in geographical circles -- and when it comes to planet Earth, everything has something to do with circles -- as the southernmost point of the Americas. John, you ask, what does all this have to do with Maine?
Good question. Just by coincidence, the horn lies due south of our own port of Eastport, which, as any Maine geography fan knows, is the easternmost city in these United States. Where else are you going to learn things like this?
But I digress. According to the stories I heard as a youth, the horn was the most dreaded stretch of ocean headlands on Earth because of the almost endless storms that raged between the two warring oceans. The horn was also well within the southern ice line, which meant glaciers. That only added to the fun of sailing around it. Many fine ships, including Maine vessels, went to the bottom in their attempts to round the horn.
According to Charles Scribner's Sons "Dictionary of American History," Cape Horn was first noted by Dutch navigators Jakob Le Maire and William Schouten, who spotted it on a voyage to the East Indies in 1616. They were the first Europeans to enter the Pacific Ocean by way of Cape Horn. Before then, all other European explorers used the fun-filled Straits of Magellan.
As a young student of geography, I always thought Cape Horn was named after the musical instrument, since the tip of South America always looked to me like the mouthpiece of a horn. But the name has nothing to do with its horn-like shape. Schouten named the point Cape Horn after the town in Holland where he was born.
It was during these "fact-filled" storytelling sessions at grandfather's house that I heard other stories about the ships that ventured around the horn, only to meet winds that started as squalls and increased rapidly to gales. Before long, these gales would blow with hurricane force. There were stories of upper topsails on square riggers being blown away and vessels with heavy cargoes that labored in heavy seas as their decks were continually flooded.
I also learned of the Clipper Ship Snow Squall, which made many trips around the horn from New York to California. Launched in South Portland in 1851, the Snow Squall eventually went aground in the Falkland Islands. After it was discovered that she was the world's only surviving Clipper Ship, a large portion of the clipper's bow was salvaged and brought back to Maine in 1987.
All the fun of going around the horn ended when the Panama Canal was opened. Ocean travel in the Western Hemisphere has never been the same since.
My grandfather passed away in 1968. I still miss his stories.
John McDonald, an author, humorist and storyteller who performs throughout New England, can be reached at mainestoryteller@yahoo.com.
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