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Updated: May 18, 2025
"In spite of the efforts of the life boat and the shooting of life lines from the shore four sailors and the cabin boy were lost. "The rough weather continues. Fresh disasters are anticipated." Who is this Captain Javel? Is he the brother of the one-armed man?
Our correspondent writes: "A fearful accident has thrown our sea-faring population, which has suffered so much in the last two years, into the greatest consternation. The fishing smack commanded by Captain Javel, on entering the harbor was wrecked on the rocks of the harbor breakwater.
It suddenly touched bottom, but a big wave made the boat heel, and Javel, junior, who was in the bows directing the lowering of the net, staggered, and his arm was caught in the rope which the shock had slipped from the pulley for an instant. He made a desperate effort to raise the rope with the other hand, but the net was down and the taut rope did not give. The man cried out in agony.
Javel had on board his younger brother, four sailors and a cabin boy. He had set sail from Boulogne on a beautiful day to go trawling. But presently a wind sprang up, and a hurricane obliged the smack to run to shore.
He then began again to pour water on the stump of arm that remained. The sea was still rough and they could not make the shore. When the day broke, Javel, junior, took the severed portion of his arm and examined it for a long time. Gangrene had set in. His comrades also examined it and handed it from one to the other, feeling it, turning it over, and sniffing at it.
And it belonged to Javel, senior, who was tenacious of his property. "No, do not cut, wait, I will luff," he cried, in great distress. And he ran to the helm and turned the rudder. But the boat scarcely obeyed it, being impeded by the net which kept it from going forward, and prevented also by the force of the tide and the wind.
But Javel would not go to bed until he got back his severed arm, and he returned at once to the dock to look for the barrel which he had marked with a cross. It was emptied before him and he seized the arm, which was well preserved in the pickle, had shrunk and was freshened. He wrapped it up in a towel he had brought for the purpose and took it home.
He then began again to pour water on the stump of arm that remained. The sea was still rough and they could not make the shore. When the day broke, Javel, junior, took the severed portion of his arm and examined it for a long time. Gangrene had set in. His comrades also examined it and handed it from one to the other, feeling it, turning it over, and sniffing at it.
And it belonged to Javel, senior, who was tenacious of his property. "No, do not cut, wait, I will luff," he cried, in great distress. And he ran to the helm and turned the rudder. But the boat scarcely obeyed it, being impeded by the net which kept it from going forward, and prevented also by the force of the tide and the wind.
"You must throw that into the sea at once," said his brother. But Javel, junior, got angry. "Oh, no! Oh, no! I don't want to. It belongs to me, does it not, as it is my arm?" And he took and placed it between his feet. "It will putrefy, just the same," said the older brother. Then an idea came to the injured man.
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