to believe it exists. Others light candles and pray.
For the past two hundred years and maybe more, ships, planes, and people have mysteriously vanished into thin air. Unusual objects and lights can be seen there, streaking across the sky. Known to sailors and others as a mysterious place of dread, it was named “The Marysburgh Vortex” in 1980 by Hugh Cochrane in his book, Gateway to Oblivion.
Hugh Cochrane’s account begins in 1883 when the Quinlan sailed out of Oswego harbour loaded with coal. She was headed on a course straight through the middle of what is now called the Marysburgh Vortex. No one could have foreseen the bizarre events that awaited the ship and her crew. Her fate, it seemed, was sealed the moment she was out in open water.
The Quinlan sailed into a fog bank. It was greedily engulfed in that misty blanket of moisture. Plummeting temperatures precipitated ice crystals on the deck and the railings and a driving snow was soon to follow. The crew was unable to keep up with clearing the deck and the churning waters tossed the ship and slammed its wooden structure. The crew held on for dear life.
The Quinlan was gripped and steered by some unknown force through the Marysburgh Vortex. Witnesses on land watched as her masts were snapped and her hull was split. Eventually she was tossed on the rocks near shore. A few crewmen were rescued, but most of them, tangled in rigging or injured, were pulled with the ship back into the lake, never to be seen again. The handful of survivors agreed that the ship had been gripped by an “odd attraction.”
In 1889 the Armenia, a tall-masted ship, sailed out of Kingston harbour at the end of May. The crew and captain were in search of the mysterious disappearance of another vessel, Bavaria.
Nine miles south of the Main Duck Islands the crew spotted the Bavaria, sitting upright on a small shoal.
As soon as the Armenia was within hailing distance, the crew called out — and were answered by silence. The solemn mood was broken only by the creaking of her timbers as the waters of Lake Ontario nudged her from side to side.
Something was very strange. As the captain and crew drew alongside, their suspicions were confirmed. The Bavaria was a ghost ship. The crew had completely disappeared without a single trace. Although a small amount of water was found to be in her hold, the ship was still seaworthy. A small repair job, visible on the deck, had been set aside, as though the seaman had been suddenly interrupted.
What mysterious force had beset the crew of the Bavaria? Searchers discovered a batch of freshly baked bread in the galley oven. The captain’s papers were on his desk along with a box containing a large quantity of money. It had been collected from the cargo recently delivered to American ports. Who would have left the money behind?
In one cabin a canary still chirped in its cage. It was ironic that the only survivor of such a mystery could not tell the tale.
The seamen did discover that one lifeboat was missing. Some men thought an explanation might still be found. The search continued.
On the return of the Armenia to Kingston, news of a ghost ship spread throughout the city. People speculated, but what was even more significant, they began to recall earlier days when others had set sail, never to return. Unnatural happenings in this region of water on Lake Ontario became a subject of much conversation.
Several days later it was reported by the captain of another vessel that there had been a storm at the time. They had sighted a lifeboat with two motionless figures at the oars shortly thereafter but repeated attempts to pull alongside failed. Each time the lifeboat was drawn away. No matter how the captain manoeuvred his vessel, the lifeboat remained out of reach. Eventually, the lifeboat disappeared into a thick fog and was never seen again. The two men in the boat had simply stared blankly and made no effort to be saved.
A lighthouse keeper also reported seeing two men adrift in a boat. He, too, attempted to save the men, but to no avail. According to him, each time he had the boat within his grasp he failed to snag it. He also reported that the men made no sound or attempt to be saved.
It remains a mystery.
In June 1900 the ship Picton, heavily laden with coal, sailed on course for the Marysburgh Vortex. Following in close proximity were the ships Minnes and Acadia, the crews of which rubbed their eyes in disbelief. The Picton had vanished before their very eyes.
While the men prayed silently, the other ships entered the vortex. They searched for hours, to no avail. There were no signs of wreckage, no signs of survivors. They concluded that the Picton had somehow sailed into the unknown.
When they reached port on the Canadian side, the crews shared their stories with others. Many listeners nodded their heads as if acknowledging what was already understood: the Marysburgh Vortex was a place where people and ships could vanish without a trace.
Others still hoped for a sign of wreckage or of a lone survivor. A few days later a clue surfaced at Sackets Harbour just a few miles northeast of where the Picton was last seen. The young son of a local fisherman spotted a bottle floating in the water just off the harbour. He borrowed his father’s boat and rowed out to get it. To his amazement he discovered a message from Captain Sidley in the bottle. Captain Sidley, of the missing Picton! The news of such a find became the talk of the district.
What was that message?
Sidley had written that he had lashed himself to his son in order that they could be found together. That was the extent of his hurried note.
Certainly the existence of such a note indicated that the captain and his son did not die suddenly but had experienced some sort of chaos. Some researchers believe the Picton entered a doorway to another dimension.
The next autumn, 1915, at the end of the shipping season, the F.C. Barnes set sail along the north shore of Lake Ontario headed for Kingston. Witnesses later remarked that while watching the ship from shore it seemed to disappear into a cloud of mist. Once again, this occurrence was at the edge of the Marysburgh Vortex.
When the mist dissipated, the tug was no longer visible. Although a search party scoured the waters, no debris was ever found to explain its disappearance. Authorities listed the disappearance of the F.C. Barnes as “unexplained.”
The eeriest story on record is the simple but bizarre story of Captain George Donner. On April 28, 1937, Captain Donner and his crew sailed down the middle of Lake Ontario. At 10:15 p.m. the captain ordered the second mate to notify him when they neared their destination and then he retired to his cabin.
A few hours later the second mate knocked at the captain’s door. There was no answer. He continued to knock. Something was wrong. He opened the cabin door. No one was there. The crew searched the entire ship. Captain Donner had vanished. Some of the crew testified that they had seen him enter his cabin. Others had heard him moving about in his quarters.
The authorities in port launched a thorough investigation. Nothing turned up. Was it possible that the captain fell overboard? This was quickly discounted since the trip was calm and an experienced sailor like Donner would not have fallen overboard.
Although the authorities alerted all vessels to watch for his body, nothing ever surfaced. Another unsolved mystery.
David Childress, in his book entitled, Anti-Gravity & the World Grid, described the existence of an Earth Grid or “crystalline Earth” in the Marysburgh Vortex.
According to Childress, “This Earth Grid is comprised of geometrical flow lines of gravity in the structure of the Earth itself.”
Richard
