Ocean Currents
Steamship Potsdam, July 21.
This is the eleventh day of the voyage from New York, and if the Potsdam does not have a puncture or bust a singletree she will arrive at Rotterdam late tonight. The Potsdam is a most comfortable boat, but it is in no hurry. It keeps below the Hutchinson speed limit of fifteen miles an hour. But a steamship never stops for water or oil, or to sidetrack or to wait for connections. This steady pounding of fourteen miles an hour makes an easy speed for the passenger, and the verdict of this ship’s company is that the Potsdam is a bully ship and the captain and the cook are all right.
Nearly all the way across the Atlantic we have been in the Gulf stream. I have read of this phenomenal current which originates in the Gulf of Mexico and comes up the eastern coast of the United States so warm that it affects the climate wherever it touches.Then nearly opposite New England it turns and crosses the Atlantic, a river of warm water many miles wide, flowing through the ocean, which is comparatively cold. This stream is a help to the boats going in its direction, although it has the bad feature of frequent fogs caused by the condensation which comes when the warm and cold air currents meet. The Gulf stream is believed to be responsible for the green of Ireland and for the winter resorts of southern England. It goes all the way across the Atlantic and into the English Channel, with a branch off to Ireland. What causes the Gulf stream? I forget the scientific terms, but this is the way it is, according to my friend Mr. Vischer, formerly of the German navy. The water in the Gulf of Mexico is naturally warm. The motion of the earth, from west to east, and other currents coming into the gulf, crowd the warm water out and send the big wide stream into the Atlantic with a whirl which starts it in a northerly and easterly direction. The same Providence that makes the grass grow makes the course of the current, and it flows for thousands of miles,gradually dissipating at the edges, but still a warm-water river until it breaks on the coast of the British Isles and into the North Sea. Perhaps Mr. Vischer would not recognize this explanation, but I have translated it into a vernacular which I can understand.
The Gulf stream reminds me of the Mediterranean. Not having much else to worry about, I have gone to worrying over the Mediterranean Sea. The ocean always flows into the sea. The current through the strait of Gibraltar is always inward. Many great rivers contribute to the blue waters of the great sea. There is no known outlet. Why does not the Mediterranean run over and fill the Sahara desert, which is considerably below the sea-level? Scientists have tried to figure this out, and the only tangible theory is that the bottom of the Mediterranean leaks badly in some places, and that the water finds its way by subterranean channels back to the ocean. What would happen if an eruption of Vesuvius should stop up the drain-pipe? Now worry.
Tonight we saw another phenomenon, the aurora borealis. It looked to me like a beautiful sunset in the north. We are sailing in the North Sea along the coast of Belgium, and the water reaches northward to the pole. The aurora borealis is another phenomenon not easily explained, but Mr. Vischer says it is probably the reflection of the sun from the ice mirror of the Arctic. And it does make you feel peculiar to see what is apparently the light of the sunset flare up toward the “Dipper” and the North Star.
Some of our passengers disembarked today at Boulogne. This was the first time the Potsdam had paused since she left New York a week ago last Tuesday. This was the stop for the passengers who go direct to Paris. The Dutch who are homeward bound and those of us who think it best to fool around a little before encountering the dangers of Paris, continue to Rotterdam. We should be spending the evening with maps and guide books preparing ourselves for the art galleries, cathedrals, canals and windmills. As a matter of fact, we are wondering what is goingon at home. There is a balance-wheel in the human heart that makes the ordinary citizen who is far afield or afloat turn to the thoughts of the home which he left, seeking a change.
A smoking-room story: An American in a European art gallery was heading an aggregation of family and friends for a study of art. His assurance was more pronounced than his knowledge. “See this beautiful Titian,” he said.“What glorious color, and mark the beauty of the small lines. Isn’t it a jim dandy? And next to it is a Rubens by the same artist!”