Page 4 - Three Adventures

Voyage of the Pomeranian

May 5, 1884. Lat. 8º 02’ S. Long. 14º 09’ W.

On the first day out our net brought forth nothing but creatures
unlucky enough to exceed in girth the space between the knotted
lines of heavy Manila hemp I had commissioned in the Ropery of
Hull. This time, with Ascension Island still in sight, a couple of large
octopi were hauled aboard. It has been my custom to order such
creatures immediately returned to the sea, but I am leaving them in
the tank overnight: perhaps they will provide a clue to the kraken’s
territory.

This afternoon, in an informal assembly amidships, one of the sailors
questioned the lack of cannon on the Pomeranian. But in every
encounter of vessel and kraken thus far recorded—if accurate—the
beast has only wreaked havoc upon mariners when it surprised them,
mistaking their ship for prey or enemy, attacking it and either
capsizing it and escaping to its deep-fathomed lair or falling victim to
the weapons deployed against it and leaving little for a scientist to
examine. The example of the French steamer Alecton is well known to
Casimir and several of the crew, thanks to lurid tales in the illustrated
weeklies. I pointed out to them that the creature in all probability
posed no threat to the ship and was either ill or trying to escape when
it succumbed to modern gunnery.

Yet there is no hiding the fact that architeuthis dux is carnivorous, and
would not find human flesh unappetizing. Once out of the water,
however, dropped into our tank and the iron-framed lid bolted down,
the giant squid would not threaten us any more than a lion securely
caged in London Zoo. My concern, of course, is that the crew’s
natural reaction to confronting a twenty- to forty-foot cephalopod,
arms and tentacles writhing and beak snapping, would be to respond
aggressively and injure it. I cannot allow that to happen if I am to
bring my captive back alive. Thus I am ever on the alert during the
daylight hours, to insure my presence when and if the kraken is
caught in our net and hoisted aboard. Then I will keep it alive by
means of using every scrap of physiological information I have found
after years of poring over books in the British Museum library and

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