Episode 73: The Legend of the Flying Dutchman
"I will round this cape, even if I have to keep sailing until doomsday…"
Episode Transcript
One thing about folklore is that it tends to take on a life of its own. I mean let's face it, the stories that I share with you from week to week usually straddle the line between reality and what lies beyond.
With one foot pressed into the soil of our earthly world and another placed firmly in the realm of fantasy, these tales quickly become larger than life. And yet, we all too often accept them as the gospel truth without questioning how the legend itself came to be.
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It's for that very reason that, at least in my opinion, storytelling and folklore are the closest things we have to magic. After all, it's through the power of spoken word that we are transported to worlds beyond our own and shown that something exists outside the squabbles of our day-to-day lives--even if that existence is solely based in fiction.
But what happens when those phantasmal worlds cross over into our own? When myth and legend somehow manage to pierce the veil and blur the lines between fantasy and reality?
Perhaps this phenomenon is the result of our own overactive imaginations. That our hopes and fears take something that is so clearly abstract and morphs it into something that almost seems tangible.
Then again, maybe there's a scientific explanation for everything. From stories of knights and courts at Camelot to claims of paranormal activity and cursed vessels crewed by the damned, logic and reason must have played a role when these stories were first written, right? Or could it be that the simple truth is that there's still a bit of magic left in our mundane little existence?
Well, why don't we do this? Over the next 20 minutes or so, I'll let you form your own opinions on that end. And in exchange, I'll share with you one of the scurviest pieces of folklore known to man. Sounds like a fair trade, but I should warn you. It's here, at the intersection between our world and the next, that magic transforms into something a lot more haunting.
I'm Courtney Hayes and you're listening to Haunts. Stay tuned...
Imagine if you will that you’re standing on a white sand beach. Below your feet, the warmth of the sun radiates off the dunes in a way that grounds your spirit. It’s the kind of peaceful simplicity that money can’t buy.
Looking out to the horizon, crystalline waters outstretch in all directions. As far as the eye can see, there’s nothing but shades of blue set against the sound of crashing waves.
Well, that is except for a small speck sitting on the water off in the distance. It’s a rather insignificant disruption of the otherwise picturesque scenery—something that could so easily be missed when given a passing glance. But now that you’ve noticed it, you can’t un-notice it. Something about it seems off, if even ominous.
Just as the thought pops into your mind, the wind shifts—turning from a gentle breeze to unnerving gusts coming off the water. Looking back at the speck out on the now choppy sea, you find that angry, dark clouds are looming overhead.
Against your better judgment, you walk out into the shallows, squinting your eyes in an effort to get a better look. That’s when you notice it isn’t a speck, but a ship—one surrounded by an eerie incandescent glow.
You stay like that for a while, watching the ship rock against the tides as the waves crash over your feet. Then out of nowhere the ship—that ominous little speck—disappears in a flash. Almost like it was swallowed by a bolt of lightning striking on the water.
That’s when you know that this isn’t any ordinary ship caught out at sea amidst an unforgiving storm. Instead, this vessel is something that’s truly nefarious—both in name and reputation—and has acted as inspiration for some of the most terrifying of maritime ghost stories.
And right now, watching from the safety of shore, there’s no denying that you’re starring in the latest chapter of that story. So better hope that this apparent ghost ship doesn’t return. Because if it does, it may just drag you to the very depths of Davy Jones Locker.
As far-fetched as it may sound, stories of this nature have been swirling around the cape of good hope for nearly 4 centuries. It all started in 1641 when Captain Hendrick Van Der Decken was sailing off the coast of South Africa.
The Dutch captain and his crew were on their way back to Holland after a highly successful trek to the Far East. With the hull of the ship filled with silk, spices, and ivory, Van Der Decken would have likely been looking forward to a huge return on his investment.
That said, it was right there in the waters near the Cape of Good Hope that those sky-high expectations came crashing down. Because looming off in the distance, dark and heavy clouds were rolling in, coming directly for his ship.
As the storm approached, the crew battened down the hatches—preparing for rough seas and violent skies. Meanwhile, their captain struggled at the helm, fighting in vain to bring the ship about.
But it was no use. Before long, Captain Van Der Decken and his crew of scallywags were sailing through the worst storm they had ever seen. And to their dismay, it was quite obvious that the ship was going down—their treasures sinking down to the bottom of the ocean along with them.
It was a reality that Van Der Decken wasn’t willing to face. So he looked up to the sky and called out in desperation—whether it was to god, Poseidon, or maybe even Satan himself, we can’t be sure. But in that moment, he had her a promise that would stand the test of time.
"I will round this cape," he cried. "Even if I have to keep sailing until doomsday."
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He was a strong-willed man, no doubt about it. And beyond that, his ship was thought to be the fastest of its time. So while his crew may have thought it a miracle when the ship came out safe in its race against the storm, Captain Hendrick Van Der Decken hadn’t been surprised in the slightest.
It wasn’t luck or a fortunate twist of fate. At least from where he was standing, the ship had been saved thanks to a bit of speed and his own sheer will—or so he thought. But, as the captain soon learned, the cries he had made amidst the storm had turned out to be somewhat of a blood oath.
So they say, he and his crew were doomed to sail the seven seas and the beyond for all eternity—slipping into and out of the ocean’s watery depths in a flash of light. According to legend, those unfortunate enough to witness such feats are doomed to join the crew on their eternal voyage. So under the flag of the Flying Dutchman, this newly minted Davy Jones soon became one of the most feared pirates to ever exist.
So I think we are all well aware that the legend of the Flying Dutchman is exactly that—a legend, a myth, a story of one of the most fearsome ghost ships of maritime lore. But that doesn’t change the fact that the legend itself was based, at least in part, on a real person. Nor does it explain the myriad of reported encounters with the Flying Dutchman.
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Let’s start with who Captain Van Der Decken actually is. Because believe it or not that name is about as fictitious as it sounds. You see, the closest English translation of the phrase Van Der Decken is on deck. Which obviously is no true surname.
Beyond that, the name Hendrick wasn’t a constant throughout all of my sources. In fact, some said the captain’s name was Willem, others claimed it was Phillip. But regardless of these inconsistencies, one thing rang true throughout each variation of the tail: this Van Der Decken persona, though completely fictional, was loosely inspired by a real 17th-century pirate.
His name was Bernard Fokke, and he was likely the fastest sailor of his day—too fast some had said. Apparently, he and his crew could travel between Holland and Java at unmatched speeds. Which in turn allowed Fokke to turn quite the profit, in comparison to other schooners making this journey.
Of course, in an era where a captain’s time was his money, that sort of reputation might just get a target painted on the stern of his ship. So it didn’t exactly take long for his competitors to become convinced that Fokke had signed a deal with the devil.
Now, whether or not that accusation was based on sheer jealousy or concrete evidence still remains to be seen. But you have to admit this story sounds a bit familiar, doesn’t it?
Now even in spite of its reputation for ferrying sailors unwillingly into the depths of Davy Jones Locker, there are numerous reported encounters with the Flying Dutchman. Dating as far back as 1823 to as recent as 1959, dozens upon dozens of maritime voyagers have claimed to have seen a glowing ghost ship while out at sea.
Perhaps the most significant of these sightings comes out of the United Kingdom. The year was 1881 when King George V and his brother Albert were sailing the bass straight aboard the HMS Inconstant.
According to the captain’s logs, the brothers had a strange vision of a glowing red light about 200 meters away from their ship. Encased within it, was yet another vessel—complete with masts, spars, and sails.
It was an eerie sight. One that became even stranger when they watched the ship and its glowing red light disappear right before their eyes. Then only a few hours later, the officer on watch who first spotted the ship, tragically, fell from the masts and died.
Now if you ask me, this series of unfortunate events, if they did in fact unfold in this way, were likely nothing more than a total coincidence. I mean it’s a little hard to believe that a skilled sailor would meet his own untimely death simply because spotted another ship out on the horizon. But at least according to his crew mates, this strange vision had been an omen of sorts—a warning of unavoidable doom.
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A similar series of encounters unfolded off the coast of Glencairn Beach in the 1930s and 1940s. In fact, on two separate occasions, once in 1939 and again in 1941, terrified beachgoers watched in a panic while a glowing ship barreled toward the shore. Only for the vessel to disappear moments before it ran aground.
Around that same time, amidst the calamity of the Second World War, the phantom ship was sighted again. Only this time in the Red Sea, over 3000 nautical miles away from where it had been seen off the coast of South Africa.
According to its logs, the now-nameless U-Boat had encountered a glowing schooner while out on patrol. One that, in the crew’s humble opinion at least, had in fact been the Flying Dutchman.
Okay, so like I said at the top of the episode, folklore and ghost stories often take on a life of their own. And the legend of the Flying Dutchman, of course, is no exception to that rule.
I mean, by now it should be obvious that sightings of this notorious ghost ship are a dime a dozen. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that those sightings are legitimate.
It’s a disappointing sentiment, I know. After all this legend is likely the most fascinating ghost story ever to have sailed the seven seas. But I’ve never been one to shield you from the truth—no matter how disappointing that truth may be. So as we end today’s episode, I’d like to shed a bit of light onto this haunt by separating the ghost from the ship.
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Scientists call it Fata Morgana, but you and I would probably say it’s a mirage. It’s a phenomenon that occurs when atmospheric conditions refract light in a way that creates shadow-like illusions on the horizon.
This sort of mirage is all too common amongst sailors out at sea who from time to time witness their own ship’s reflection off in the distance. From afar, this reflection might appear as though it is bobbing on the water or possibly floating high up in the skies. But what’s even more haunting, is that the reflected ship is almost always bathed in an eerie incandescent light.
https://www.npr.org/2011/10/06/141123770/the-story-of-the-flying-dutchman
https://www.facebook.com/share/UxzQfJDjkfSXRMwz/?mibextid=WC7FNe
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bernard_Fokke
https://www.historicmysteries.com/myths-legends/flying-dutchman/891/