Cutting from the Daily Graph, 9th August. Pasted in Mina Murray's journal. From a correspondent, Whitby. 9th August. The sequel to the strange arrival of the derelict in the storm last night is almost more startling than the thing itself. It turns out that the schooner is a Russian from Varna, and is called the Demeter.
She is almost entirely in ballast of silver sand, with only a small amount of cargo, a number of great wooden boxes filled with mould. This cargo was consigned to a Whitby solicitor. Mr. S. F. Billington of Seven the Crescent, who this morning went aboard and formally took possession of the goods consigned to him. The Russian consul, too, acting for the charter party, took formal possession of the ship and paid all harbour dues, etc.
Nothing is talked about here today except the strange coincidence. The officials of the Board of Trade have been most exacting in seeing that every compliance has been made with existing regulations. As the matter is to be a nine days' wonder, they are evidently determined that there should be no cause of after-complaint.
A good deal of interest was abroad concerning the dog which landed when the ship struck, and more than a few of the members of the SPCA, which is very strong in Whitby, have tried to befriend the animal. To the general disappointment, however, it was not to be found. It seems to have disappeared entirely from the town. It may be that it was frightened and made its way onto the moors, where it is still hiding in terror.
There are some who look with dread on such a possibility, lest later on it should in itself become a danger, for it is evidently a fierce brute. Early this morning a large dog, a half-bred mastiff belonging to a coal merchant close to Tate Hill Pier, was found dead in the roadway opposite to its master's yard. It had been fighting, and manifestly had had a savage opponent, for its throat was torn away, and its belly was slit open as if with a savage claw.
Later. By the kindness of the Board of Trade Inspector, I have been permitted to look over the logbook of the Demeter, which was in order up to within three days, but contained nothing of special interest except as to facts of missing men. The greatest interest, however, is with regard to the paper found in the bottle, which was today produced at the inquest. And a more strange narrative than the two between them unfold, it has not been my lot to come across.
As there is no motive for concealment, I am permitted to use them, and accordingly send you a rescript, simply omitting technical details of seamanship and supercargo. It almost seems as though the captain had been seized with some kind of mania before he had got well into blue water, and that this had developed persistently throughout the voyage.
Of course, my statement must be taken come grano, since I am writing from the dictation of a clerk of the Russian Consul, who kindly translated for me, time being short. Rough weather lost three days. All hands busy with sails. No time to be frightened. Men seem to have forgotten, Dred. There seems some doom over this ship. Already a hand short and entering on the Bay of Biscay with wild weather ahead, and yet, last night, another man lost. Disappeared. Four days in hell.
knocking about in a sort of maelstrom and the wind a tempest no sleep another tragedy and now without second mate and crew in a panic Mate and I agreed to go armed henceforth. Awaked by mate telling me that both man of watch and steerman missing. Only self and mate. And two hands left to work. Two days of fog and not a sail sighted. We seem to be drifting. To some terrible doom. One more gone. Lord help us. A man!
and thin and ghastly pale. It is here, and I'll find it. He is mad. Stark, raving mad, and it's no use my trying to stop him. Save me! Save me! God forgive me, but a mate was right to jump overboard. But I am captain. And I must not leave my ship. The flight is coming on. If we are wrecked. Mayhap this bottle may be found, and those who find it may understand. If not, all men shall know that I have been true to my trust.
Of course, the verdict was an open one. There was no evidence to adduce, and whether or not the man himself committed the murders, there is now none to say. The folk here hold almost universally that the captain is simply a hero. and he is to be given a public funeral. Already it is arranged that his body is to be taken with a train of boats up the Esk for a piece, and then brought back to Tate Hill Pier and up the Abbey Steps, for he is to be buried in the churchyard on the cliff.
The owners of more than a hundred boats have already given in their names as wishing to follow him to the grave. No trace has ever been found of the great dog, at which there is much mourning, for... With public opinion in its present state, he would, I believe, be adopted by the town. Tomorrow we'll see the funeral, and so we'll end this one more mystery of the sea.
This episode featured Sasha Sienna as the correspondent and Alistair Stewart as the captain of the Demeter. Dialogue editing by Steven Indrasano. Sound design by Tal Manier. Produced by Ella Watts and Pacific S. Obadiah, with executive producers Stephen Indrasano, Tal Manir, and Hannah Wright. A Bloody FM production.