THE STORY OF AN ENGLISH CANNIBAL.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume IV, Issue 963, 7 June 1883, Page 2

THE STORY OF AN ENGLISH CANNIBAL.

The following vivid story of cannibalism at sea is published by the Philadelphia (Press as taken down from the lips of a “ wolfish-looking English sailor,” who the other day accosted a reporter with the remark, “ I’m a lost man, sir; I’m an unfortunate man, and likewise a cannibal.” On being questioned the sailor spoke as follows :—My name is Arthur Gandelheart. I was born at Deal, on the south coast of England, and went first to sea in a fishing smack when only ten years old. I liked the life, and when I was eighteen I shipped aboard an East Indiaman, and made several long voyages. I worked hard in my spare time to master navigation, and passed for a mate’s certificate before I was twenty-three. In the fall of 1876 I shipped as mate on the Whittlesea, an English barque, and sailed from Plymouth for Melbourne with a general cargo. We earned a crew of nineteen men all told, and made a good run down as far as the Cape of Good Hope. After rounding the Cape the wind freshened, and a heavy gale continued for three days. Then the gale culminated in a perfect hurricane. One Friday morning a huge wave made a clean sweep of the deck, carrying away the compass, the wheel house, and smashing up both the boats on the port side. The captain, who was on the poop, was washed overboard, and we never even got a sight of him again. In this extremity I took command, but as her steering-gear was damaged, and she would not answer to the newly-rigged wheel, I let her run before the wind. I never was on a vessel before or since when so much water came aboard. About midnight the wind died out with a remarkable suddenness. By four in the morning I found that under the most favorable circumstances I could not hope to keep her above water for more than an hour. We had but just time to get the last boat afloat when she. heeled over to starboard. Four of the sailors and myself got into the boat and shoved her off, as the barque immediately went down with all the others on board. - As the day dawned we found ourselves alone on the ocean without food or water. By midday the sea was quite calm, and there was not a breath of wind on the water. We now prayed as heartily for a breeze as we had longed for fair weather - We strained our eyes continually, hoping to sight a passing vessel, but no such welcome vision met our view. I rigged a jury-mast with a spare oar, divided the men into watches, and fell asleep. I was so thoroughly worn out that it was dark before I awoke. The men were complaining of hunger and thirst. Two |of them insisted on drinking salt water, although I tried hard to dissuade them. The next day they became delirious, and the following day went raving mad. attacked me with the greatest ferocity, and finally jumped overboard, and although we tried to get them back into the boat, they perished miserably. The three of us that were left now suffered horribly from thirst and hunger. I had on a pair of long sea boots, and I cut the tops into strips, and we chewed the leather, but it afforded us no relief. The salt oily taste of the leather only aggravated my thirst. During the fourth night after leaving the barque one of the two sailors, a Swede, became very ill. He complained of cramps in the stomach, and his shrieks of agony were terrible to hear. We tried to make him as comfortable as we could, and wrapped him in the sail and laid him in the bottom of the boat. When morning came the poor fellow I could see was dying ; he had no pain, but so weak he could scarcely whisper. I was horrified to see the way that the other man glared at him as he lay in the bottom of the boat breathing heavily, and deathly pale, and with his eyes closed. He edged over to me, and whispered in rny ear, “ He will be dead in an hour, and then we won’t be hungry any longer.” I shuddered, and pushed the human brute away from we with a threatening gesture. The sick man opened his eyes and motioned me to approach him. I bent my ear to his lips, and he faintly whispered, “ You’ll wait until I die, won’t you ?” I heard what he said. 1 took his hand in mine, and said while I live he was safe. The sun was high in the heavens when he breathed his last. I was now growing very weak myself, and I must have fainted away, for it was growing dark when I was

aroused by my companion shaking me. “Go and help yourself,” he said, pointing to the bow of the boat, where beneath the sail I could see the outlines of the dead man’s form. What was Itodo ? To realise my position, you must have been through a like experience yourself. Our lives were saved, but at what a cost ? Even now my flesh creeps when I think of our life during the next three days. The calm continued, and we drifted about aimlessly— two live menj—cannibals—adrift on the ocean. [At this point Gandelheart passed his hand across his forehead, on which great beads of perspiration stood out like drops of dew.] On the morning of the seventh day after leaving the barque, we sighted a steamer bearing down upon us. An hour later we were safe on board, and before night I was in bed with brain fever. Three weeks latter we were put ashore at Plymouth, and I lay ten weeks in the hospital between life and death. A Board of Trade inquiry as to the loss of the Whittlesea was held in England, and the facts became public property. Since then I have been in a dozen different ships, but once a week, or oftener, I go through the horrid experience in my sleep, and tell the dread story far more realistically than I have given it to you. After that the men shun me, and I cannot lead an endurable life in any ship that sails. If I can get back to England T shall go back to Deal, and get in the fishing trade again. The folks all know me there, and pity my misfortunes instead of condemning me for. doing that which I could not help.