SHIPWRECK DIARIES

The ship staggered under a thunderous shock
that shook us asunder, as if she had struck and crashed on a rock; for the huge sea smote every soul from the decks of The Falcon but one; all of them, all but the man that was lash'd to the helm had gone."[11. 106-9"]

Tennyson - The Wreck

Friday, February 22, 2008

Death of a Sailor...




THE DEATH OF A MYSTERIOUS MARINER

HARRY D. SLEIGHT

Buried in a shady nook in Oakland Cemetery at Sag Harbor lie the remains of Favieco Maeceia, a Portuguese sailor from the Western Islands. A quaint inscription marks the grave, as follows:

"Tho' Boreas' winds and Neptune's waves,
Have tossed me to and fro.
By God's decree, you plainly see,
I'm harbored here below."

The Portuguese sailor has been dead many years, but a story is associated with the death of the mysterious mariner.

In September 1858, seven Portuguese sailors arrived in Sag Harbor. Their appearance, taken together with their movements, their lavish display of Spanish coin, the refusal to give an account of themselves, excited suspicion, and soon the village was rife with rumors of mutiny, shipwreck, and slave traders. Various and vague were the conjectures indulged in.

The strange seamen obtained good counsel and warm friendship in the person of some of their own countrymen resident of Sag Harbor. Night came on, and in the morning it was found that with but one exception, they had been taken to the Connecticut shore and safely landed by one of their own countrymen.

On the same day the strangers came to Sag Harbor, a deputy marshal from New York City passed down to Montauk. He learned that the sailors had landed on Montauk in a boat belonging to a clipper ship, and had told a story of shipwreck.

Favieco Maeceia, the man left behind, was sick unto death and passed away the following day. He left plenty of money to pay his funeral expenses, and by many it is still believed that he left a large sum of gold to the countrymen who took him in and cared for and administered to him.

Later on, it developed that a clipper bark had been sold to New York and then to a well-known Spanish house, fitted for the slave trade, and sailed to the west coast of Africa, having on board her complement of officers and crew, and two captains - one an American, the other a Spaniard. The vessel cruised off the west coat for 40 days, taking on 1,133 Negroes, and then sailed for the island of Cuba, eventually making the port of Cardenas, where two Spaniards came aboard and purchased the remaining slaves, about 200 having died on the voyage.

The bark then stood out to sea, and the captain called the crew aft and paid them off, saying the vessel had no papers, and asked what was to be done. It was decided to go to the east end of Long Island, for "we will be safe there." It was also decided to scuttle the bark.

After making Montauk Point, holes were bored in the vessel's bottom and were then plugged up. As soon as it was dark and when five miles to sea, the plugs were drawn and the officers and crew took to the boats. The bark soon sank.

One boat made for the Connecticut shore, and was picked up by a pilot boat and taken into New London. The occupants told a sorrowful tale of shipwreck and suffering, readily securing a free passage.

The other boat landed on Montauk, as told above.

From "The Whale Fishery on Long Island," published in 1931.