Democratic Sentinel, Volume 14, Number 7, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 March 1890 — WHAT THE DIVER SEES. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

WHAT THE DIVER SEES.

WONDERS AND ATTRACTIONS OF THE VASTY DEEP. Thrilling Adventure* of \eteran* in Thi* strange Culling—Capturing a Huge Musicallonge—Attacked by an Octopus—Terrors and Attractions of Neptune's Realm.

Z&teP HE mvsteries, wondjHfia||Hders, and beauties the vast water|world under the surface of river, fcSrar lake, and ocean are " as profoundly interes ting as the often unfathomable depths. Mariners

and travelers have their view and knowledge limited to the prospect available on the surface. The submarine universe over w hich they float is as a sealed volume to them. Divers and wreckers, however, in the pursuit of their calling have now and then glimpses of Neptune’s realm and some of its attractions and terrors. Divers are not romancists. They deal with stern realities in a practical, matter-of-fact way. While submerged beneath the waves at their labor they are in personal peril, to greater or less degree, much of the time, and often meet with strange and frightful experiences. Many times they are on missions of confidence, working under sealed orders. with sealed lips. Often they are overcome with nervous shocks and are compelled to relinquish work from sheer exhaustion. Chicago has two thoroughly experienced submarine divers, says a writer in the Chicago Times. One of them

is familiarly known as Tommy Johnson. He is the mechanical engineer of the Dunham Towing and Wrecking Company. He does not do much submarine work except to superintend mechanical arrangements necessary to raise wrecked vessels and their cargoes. Joe Faulkner has also been actively engaged in shore work on river and lake about Chicago for over twenty years past. Divers must have plenty of pluck and grit, and both of these men possess a goodly share. Tommy Johnson on one occasion lay down on the bottom of the lake to rest awhile. While prostrate and motionless an enormous muskallonge swam up, and after deploying about reconnoitering for a long while floated directly over Tom and proceeded to nibble at the toe of his rubber boot. Watching his opportunity Tom seized the fish, and driving his steel hook deep into its side quickly threw his other arm around its body, hugging it with all his might and main. Instantaneously the startled fish lashed the water with its tail and fins, and vainly used all of its enormous power to shake off its assailant. But Tom, with desperate vim, maintained his hold and was 'dragged along upward with the scaly monster, until the two came in collision Avith the keel of the tug Chven, which broke Tom’s hold. Of course the jerking of lines and other violent and unusual commotion at once alarmed Capt. Swayne and his men, Avho swiftly drew Tommy up. When they opened the casement of his helmet he narrated his novel experience amidst roars of laughter. The Captain shook his head incredulously until he glanced at the hook in Tom’s hand, Avhich had on it a patch of the scaly monster’s body which had been ripped off during the struggle. Joe Faulkner may not be guilty of hugging big fish, but he is accounted as one of the sturdiest of workers under water, and describes the lake bottom as one of the pleasantest of promenading places in calm weather. Much of it is a level plain, varied by undula-

tions, banks, and mounds,.far out, very like the stereotyped phase of a rolling prairie. ' Old Ned Barron, one of the best veteran New York divers, narrates the following pathetic reminiscence: “A few seasons ago I was sent for to come

on and try to recover the bodies of a young man and a young woman who had been drowned in the lake off Milwaukee. “With a party of friends they had been enjoying a sail on a little yacht. A sudden squall came up and the vessel was capsized. The young man was a good swimmer and tried hard to save the girl, but, crazed with terror, she clung to him and hampered his efforts until he became exhausted, and both sank together in full view of the others of the party, all of whom had gained a hold on the lottom of the boat and were soon rescued. The drowned couple were to have been married that

very week —in fact, were buried on the day set for their wedding. They were well-to-do, nice people, and the whole story made me awful sad, so that I really wished I hadn’t been told it all. Well, I went down and walked around the bottom of that part of the lake for almost three days. Tow ard sunset of the third day, I had almost given up work for the day, and I had come up around the end of a big ledge of rock, when I found them. The weather had been fine, the sun bright, and the still water was unusually clear. I was about forty feet below the surface ; the rock was probably one hundred feet in length, sixty feet wide, and the-outer edge was rough and jagged. Well, the two of them were just like sitting down together on the end of the ragged rock, on which the lady’s dress had caught and held them fast. She leaned up against his chest, with one arm around his neck, and her long, beautiful light hair hung over her neck and shoulders. He was holding her tightly with one arm around her waist, while the other was stretched out as if grasping for something. Their eyes were wide open and they both looked as natural and perfect as life. Both were handsome and well dressed. His gold watch-chain gleamed in the light and the diamond of her engagement ring sparkled like fire. “I guess I must have stood there admiring of them fully ten minutes. Why, it seemed- almost as if they were alive and I felt almost as if ashamed of intruding on their love scene of ‘billing

and cooing.’ My heart beat like a steam force-pump and it just ached, I tell you. But I came to my senses, and w alked up, disentangled her dress, put my arm around them, pulled the signal rope, and we were drawn up all together. When we got ashore with the bodies it nigh broke my tough old heart to see and hear them go on. I can’t stand these things as I used to once.” Authentic intelligence recently came from Wellington, New Zealand, that Archibald McGovan, a very reliable and experienced diver, while at work in the harbor there for the British government was seized by a devil-fish, five fathoms under water, and had an almost miraculous escape from a horrible death On diving down for the purpose of laying some blocks he was attacked bv the octopus, which finally succeeded in fastening its tremendously powerful claws and tentacles onto him like hooks of steel. As soon as he realized the presence of the monster he fought with the strength of desperation, but in spite of his almost superhuman struggles he felt the long, flinty-shelled claws and huge, muscular arms of the horrid creature shut down and wind around closing up tighter and tighter until he was securely bound to the pile. His selfpossession, however, did not desert him, and knowing that resistance was useless he relapsed into perfect passive quiet. A little while after his resistance ceased he felt the arms of the creature relaxing their hold of the pile, and as soon as he saw that they were free he gave the signal and was drawn up to the surface with the devil-fish clinging to his back. It was pulled off, and careful measurement showed the arms to be fully nine foet in length.