Futility Closet - 216-The Tromelin Island Castaways
Episode Date: September 10, 2018In 1761 a French schooner was shipwrecked in the Indian Ocean, leaving more than 200 people stranded on a tiny island. The crew departed in a makeshift boat, leaving 60 Malagasy slaves to fend for th...emselves and wait for rescue. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll tell the story of the Tromelin Island castaways, which one observer calls "arguably the most extraordinary story of survival ever documented." We'll also admire some hardworking cats and puzzle over a racer's death. Intro: In 1830 architect Thomas Willson proposed building an enormous pyramid to house London's dead. In 1959 a Norwegian insulation manufacturer undertook to transport a three-ton block of ice to the equator without refrigeration. Sources for our feature on the Tromelin Island castaways: Samir S. Patel, "Castaways," Archaeology, Sept. 15, 2014. "Lèse humanité," Economist, Dec. 16, 2015. Max Guérout, "Esclaves oubliés," La Revue Maritime 477 (December 2006). John Lichfield, "Shipwrecked and Abandoned: The Story of the Slave Crusoes," Independent, Feb. 5, 2007. James Russell, "The Recovery of Tromelin Island," National Geographic, April 11, 2016. V. Laroulandie and C. Lefèvre, "The Use of Avian Resources by the Forgotten Slaves of Tromelin Island (Indian Ocean)," International Journal of Osteoarchaeology 24:3 (2014), 407-416. Matthieu Le Corre, et al. "Seabird Recovery and Vegetation Dynamics After Norway Rat Eradication at Tromelin Island, Western Indian Ocean," Biological Conservation 185 (2015), 85-94. Nick Marriner et al., "A Geomorphological Reconnaissance of Tromelin Island, Indian Ocean," Journal of Coastal Research 28:6 (November 2012), 1606-1616. Urko Apaolaza Ávila, "Basques in the Caribbean Slave Trade (Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries)," in William A. Douglass, ed., Basques in Cuba, 2016. Jane Webster, "Slave Ships and Maritime Archaeology: An Overview," International Journal of Historical Archaeology 12:1 (March 2008), 6–19. Annabelle Georgen, "Abandonnés sur une île déserte: la tragédie des esclaves oubliés de Tromelin," Slate, Feb. 22, 2017. Peter Mitchell and Paul Lane, The Oxford Handbook of African Archaeology, 2013. Carl Thompson, Shipwreck in Art and Literature: Images and Interpretations from Antiquity to the Present Day, 2014. Nelly Schmidt, "Slavery and Its Abolition, French Colonies, Research and Transmission of Knowledge," UNESCO Slave Route Project. Constance Holden, "Random Samples," Science, New Series 315:5812 (Feb. 2, 2007), 579. Jasmina Sopova, "UNESCO Launches Forgotten Slaves Programme," UNESCO, April 23, 2004. "Archaeological Science," Health & Medicine Week, May 17, 2010, 1593. Sylviane Diouf, "Survivors: Sand Island," New York Public Library, March 7, 2012. H.A. Moriarty, Islands in the Southern Indian Ocean, Westward of Longitude 80° East, Including Madagascar, 1904. Alexander G. Findlay, A Directory for the Navigation of the Indian Ocean, 1866. A. Constable, Shipwrecks and Disasters at Sea, 1812. Lawrence G. Green, "Mystery Isles of the East," New York Times, June 21, 1931. Bernie McClenny, "Tromelin Island," QST 98:9 (September 2014), 91-92. "Foreign Intelligence," [London] General Evening Post, Aug. 21, 1777. "Extract of a Letter From Amsterdam, Aug. 7," London Chronicle, Aug. 22, 1777. Listener mail: "Chief Mouser Palmerston Develops a Taste for Duck," Times, July 24, 2018. "Library Cat Outlasts Councilman That Wanted Him Gone," CBS News, Dec. 16, 2016. Bud Kennedy, "Council Critic Takes Yet Another Swipe at Browser the Library Cat," Fort Worth Star-Telegram, Dec. 10, 2016. Ricki Harris, "Beloved Cat Will Keep His Job at the Local Library After International Backlash," ABC News, July 5, 2016. Ricki Harris, "Beloved Cat Fired From His Job at a Local Public Library," ABC News, June 28, 2016. Wikipedia, "Mike (cat)" (accessed Sept. 4, 2018). E.A. Wallis Budge, "Mike", the Cat Who Assisted in Keeping the Main Gate of the British Museum From February 1909 to January 1929, 1929. R.B. Shaberman, Mike, the British Museum Cat, 1909-1929: A Jubilee Reminiscence, 1979. Dog Days of Summer Family Festival, Smithsonian National Postal Museum (accessed Sept. 6, 2018). This week's lateral thinking puzzle was contributed by listener Bryant Pocock, who sent these corroborating links (warning -- these spoil the puzzle). You can listen using the player above, download this episode directly, or subscribe on Google Podcasts, on Apple Podcasts, or via the RSS feed at https://futilitycloset.libsyn.com/rss. Please consider becoming a patron of Futility Closet -- you can choose the amount you want to pledge, and we've set up some rewards to help thank you for your support. You can also make a one-time donation on the Support Us page of the Futility Closet website. Many thanks to Doug Ross for the music in this episode. If you have any questions or comments you can reach us at podcast@futilitycloset.com. Thanks for listening!
Transcript
Discussion (0)
Welcome to the Futility Closet podcast, forgotten stories from the pages of history.
Visit us online to sample more than 10,000 quirky curiosities from a pyramid cemetery
to a migrating ice block.
This is episode 216.
I'm Greg Ross.
And I'm Sharon Ross. In 1761, a French
schooner ran aground on a tiny island in the Indian Ocean. The crew departed in a makeshift
boat, leaving 60 slaves to fend for themselves and wait for rescue. In today's show, we'll tell
the story of the Tromlin Island castaways and their extraordinary struggle for survival.
of the Tromelin Island castaways and their extraordinary struggle for survival.
We'll also admire some hard-working cats and puzzle over a racer's death.
On the night of July 31st, 1761, a three-masted French schooner called Lutil was sailing from Madagascar to Ile-de-France in the western Indian Ocean.
In the hold were 160 slaves whom the captain had purchased days before. Slavery was legal at that time, and Ile-de-France needed labor, but the captain was not authorized to deal in slaves,
and he was anxious to reach his destination quickly. As the winds increased to 20 knots,
the officers began to worry that their situation was dangerous. Somewhere ahead of them was a tiny
islet known as Ile-de-Sable, or Sandy Island, but the ship's charts didn't agree on where it was, and it was
impossible to see ahead in the stormy, moonless night. Some suggested waiting for daylight, but
the captain refused and ordered the ship to press on. That was a fatal decision. The ship ran aground
on a coral reef, shattering its hull and leaving them foundering 300 miles from Madagascar.
on a coral reef, shattering its hull and leaving them foundering 300 miles from Madagascar.
But as the sky lightened, they saw that the reef surrounded the sandy island. The ship's log reads,
the coming of day and the sight of land, which diminished our terrors, reduced none of the furies of the sea. Several people threw themselves into the water with a line to try to reach the land
to no end. A few reached the shore. We had to haul some others back over the debris where they drowned.
We were terrified all the while because the stern of the ship on which we were standing
opened and closed at each moment, cutting more than one person in two. Eventually,
the ship turned its stern towards the shore, allowing the sailors to establish a ropeway
to the island. In the chaos, 22 of the French crew were lost. When the rest reached the island,
they thought at first that it was inhabited because they met black people on the shore. But these turned out to be slaves
from their own ship. The captain had been in the practice of nailing the hatches shut every night
to prevent a revolt, and when the ship had run aground, the slaves had been trapped in the cargo
hold. Of the 160 slaves below decks, more than 70 had drowned. But as the hull began to break apart,
88 had managed to escape.
They joined 123 Frenchmen on the shore of this tiny, barren island.
I cannot emphasize strongly enough how small this island is. I'll put a photo in the show notes.
It's 800 yards wide, one square kilometer, less than a third of a square mile. You could walk the length of it in 15 minutes, and you could do it in a straight line because there's nothing to
stop you. No trees, no features. It's just a low, flat scrap of sand in the middle of the ocean.
Hermit crabs scuttle over it at night, birds and turtles lay their eggs on it,
and now rats and mice were swimming to it from the wrecked ship.
On the island, the French crew still outnumbered the slaves, so for the moment the same social order prevailed.
The captain had been shocked speechless by the wreck, so the first officer, whose name was Duvernay, took over. He rallied the men to gather
food, tools, and timber from the wreck. They salvaged 22 barrels of flour, 200 kilograms of
beef, and other provisions, and they scavenged the island for food as well. Their supply of water was
low, but after three days of chipping through volcanic rock, they had a working well that was
producing brackish water. By that time, 28 men had died of thirst, all of them slaves, because the French had kept their
reserve to themselves. The French set up camp on the west side of the island, making tents from
sails and fragments of the masts, and the slaves made a separate camp at the northern tip. Duvernay
directed the men to build an oven and a forge, and they went to work building a new boat.
Duvernay knew that they had to build it quickly. He'd served on slave ships before, and he knew that conflicts might begin to break out.
He sketched plans for a new vessel he called the Providence, that they could sail to civilization.
Building it would be difficult. There were no trees on the island, so they'd have to get
materials from the wreck, most of which was now underwater. He found that the ship's carpenter
had no real woodworking skills, and the crew were disinclined to work. Most of them preferred to hunt birds. But the slaves joined in willingly, toiling with
great zeal, according to one account, and apparently without being coerced. In the end,
they salvaged enough wood to build a barge with sides five feet high, but it was only 33 feet
long, rather than 45, as Duvernay had hoped. So, probably after no discussion, he announced that
the white castaways
would sail to Madagascar, all 123 of them, about 100 of whom had not even helped to build the boat.
That would leave 60 Malagasy slaves on the island. Duvernay promised that someone would come back for
them. He said it might be two weeks, perhaps a month, if the weather turned bad. He left them
three months' provisions and a letter emphasizing their good conduct. They'd need that if they were
picked up by a passing captain,
who might otherwise think they'd been put off there deliberately for causing trouble.
On September 27, 1761, two months after the shipwreck,
the French shoved off and the slaves set themselves to wait.
The days lengthened into weeks and then into months,
but the promised rescue did not materialize.
The slaves built a fire on the island's western extremity,
feeding it with driftwood and scraps of the wreck to guide their rescuers to the island. In the end, they kept that
fire burning continuously for 15 years. During their two months on the island, the French crew
had maintained their logbook, so we have a good record of events up to that point, but after they
left, the slaves kept no records of their own, so scientists have had to study the island itself to
understand what happened. At the start, there had been 60 slaves, but all of them were from the central highlands of Madagascar and
didn't know how to find food on a desert island once they'd gone through Duvernay's provisions.
Most of them probably died within the first two years as they learned to hunt birds, fish,
and sea turtles. Along with eggs, these were their only source of food. One estimate says
the survivors may have hunted 90,000 birds during their 15 years on the island.
One estimate says the survivors may have hunted 90,000 birds during their 15 years on the island.
The next problem was shelter.
The island is subject to extreme winds, and it lies in the path of regular storms that sweep westward across the Indian Ocean.
On average, nine tropical depressions form each year, and four of those become tropical cyclones.
The French had used most of the available wood to build their raft, so the slaves had to build their shelters using coral and blocks of compacted sand. Archaeologists found that some of these had walls a meter and a half thick,
apparently to withstand the wind and to make up for a lack of cement. Even so, they had no way to make a roof. At one point, they had dismantled some buildings to make a wall about 20 feet long,
probably after a cyclone had damaged their settlement. In their birthplace on Madagascar,
the slaves would have lived in huts of wood, mud, and thatch.
In their experience, these stone houses would have resembled burial cists more than anything else.
Archaeologist Max Giroux says,
The surviving slaves had the use of the forge and the oven that the French had built,
and they had drinkable water from the well.
It appears they salvaged copper plates and bowls from the wrecked ship and then hammered them into
new shapes. Some of the dishes were repaired up to eight times in the 15 years that the slaves spent
on the island. That wasn't easy to do. They had to cut pieces of copper from other objects to make
patches, drill holes through both the patches and the plates, then roll up pieces of copper to use
as rivets, which were then hammered into place.
In 2008, the archaeologists found what was probably the settlement's kitchen. It contained a stack of six copper vessels with a conch shell on top and 15 crude spoons, little bowls of copper
that could be attached to scraps of wood to serve as handles. In another building, they found tools,
iron tripods to hold cooking vessels, and large lead bowls that had probably been made from lead
sheets salvaged from the ship and reworked in the forge. Probably the lead bowls had been used to hold
water, which means that lead poisoning may have been a problem for the castaways, and they found
pieces of flint and metal, which shows how they could start and maintain fires. They also found
a few pieces of copper jewelry and a comb for untangling hair, which suggests that the slaves
came to accept the fact that a rescue wasn't coming and that they'd have to build a normal life on the island. The only cloth they
had was birds' feathers woven together using ropes from the wreck, but they began to fashion these
into clothing. Altogether, it's estimated that in their time on the island, the castaways made,
repaired, and transformed over 700 objects. Garou said, these were not people who were
overwhelmed by their fate. They were people who worked together successfully in an orderly way.
It is a very human story, a story of the ingenuity and instinct for survival of people who were abandoned
because they were regarded by some of their fellow human beings as less than human.
No bodies or tombs have been discovered yet on the island,
though visitors in the 19th century reported seeing them.
That makes it hard to know what became of all the slaves.
According to the ones who were eventually rescued, 18 had departed on a raft shortly after the French had left,
though without textile sails it's assumed they never reached land. And most of the others died
quickly, leaving 15 who clung to this grim existence through the next decade. One writer
in 1812 calls it the most deplorable situation that can be figured. To be fair to the French,
Duvernay, the first officer who had
promised to send help, had not forgotten them. His raft had reached Madagascar after four days at sea,
and the crew were transferred back to Réunion Island and Ile-de-France, which is now called
Mauritius. Duvernay repeatedly asked that a ship be sent to rescue the remaining castaways, but he
was denied over and over. The governor refused to risk another ship to save slaves, who had been
illicit to begin with. France was fighting the Seven Years' War, and if the British besieged his island,
then the rescued slaves would only be more mouths to feed.
And with all the delays, he said, there was no guarantee that the slaves were even still alive.
He promised to provide a ship when the war ended, but there was no telling when that would be.
Duvernay refused to give up.
He vowed not to leave Ile-de-France until the slaves had been rescued.
Most of his crew returned home, but he took a job on a supply ship ferrying goods around the islands.
He had a lucky chance in January 1762 when the captain of his ship agreed to make a detour to
visit the site of the shipwreck, but the plan was dropped when the British landed on a nearby island.
By that September, a year had passed since Duvernay had escaped the island, but he'd made
no progress in rescuing the remaining castaways.
He returned to France, but he kept up his lobbying.
It took another decade of pleading letters, but in 1772, the Minister of Marine Affairs agreed to send a ship to the island,
though no one knew if the slaves were still alive.
Even that order languished for three more years, but finally a ship called La Sauterelle reached Ile-de-Sable in 1775,
14 years after the original shipwreck. They launched a
small boat carrying two men, but that was dashed on the reef. One man swam back to the ship, and
the other made his way to the island. From the ship, the captain could see that the slaves were
still alive and had formed a community. There were 13 people altogether, or 14 now with the new
French sailor. They had built buildings, he saw smoke, and the anchor of Lutille still protruded
from the surf. The following year, 1776, France was unchallenged in the region, and the anchor of Lutil still protruded from the surf.
The following year, 1776, France was unchallenged in the region, and Ile-de-France had a new,
better governor who turned his attention to finally rescuing the castaways.
But it was still very hard to reach the island across the reef, which is 150 yards wide.
Two more ships were commissioned to save the castaways, but both of them failed.
After watching these failures from the island, the new French castaway apparently decided to take matters into his own hands. That July, he managed to leave the island on a raft with a sail made of woven feathers, taking with him three men and three
women. They were never heard from again, which is tragic because just a few months later, on November
29, 1776, a ship called La Dauphine finally managed to reach the remaining castaways. They found only
seven women and an eight-month-old boy.
They were evacuated without ceremony and taken to Ile-de-France.
During their ordeal, attitudes about slavery had changed.
In 1761, the governor of Ile-de-France had refused to send help to rescue slaves,
but now his successor declared that the castaways were free,
since they had been bought illegally to begin with.
The governor himself took the child, his mother, and her mother into his home and had them baptized. He named the boy Moise,
which means drawn out of the water. The other women declined to return to Madagascar,
where they'd probably have fallen back into slavery. Presumably, hopefully,
they settled on Mauritius, but no more is known about their lives. In a debriefing,
they told of the 18 castaways who had built a boat and left the island shortly after the French had left, and they said that most of the others had died of fatigue
and want. According to some sources, during their long stay on the island, they had sighted five
ships, all of which had attempted to land when they were signaled, but all had been baffled by
the reef. By the time of the rescue, Duvernay was a hospital administrator in Brittany. It's not
known whether he heard that his promise to the castaways had finally been fulfilled. He died in 1782. The Marquis de Condorcet helped to keep the
story of the Ile-de-Sable castaways alive by including it in his 1781 pamphlet Reflections
on Negro Slavery. He uses it to condemn the French authorities, writing,
Seven Negro women and a child born on the island were found, the men having all died,
either of misery or hopelessness or attempting to escape.
In February 1794, the new French National Assembly condemned slavery as a crime against humanity and abolished the practice, though that measure was ultimately reversed.
The island is still there today, of course. It's known as Île-Tremelon after the captain of the
ship that finally rescued the last survivors. The French installed a weather station in 1954
to monitor the cyclones, and there's now
an airstrip of crushed coral. The anchor of Lutil is still visible in the waves, and in 2013 a plaque
was erected commemorating the tragedy of the castaways. In French it reads,
To the memory of 80 Malagasy slaves of Lutil, July 31, 1761, who were abandoned for 15 years
on this desert island. Only seven women and one infant survived and were rescued on November 29, 1776
by the captain Jacques-Marie de Tromelan, who gave his name to the island. I've been talking about some more exotic animals for the last couple of weeks,
and this week I have some updates on some much more commonplace ones, starting with mice.
In episode 210, the puzzle was about how someone knew that his mouse trap had caught the last mouse in his house.
Spoiler alert. Pete Miller of Holly Springs, North Carolina, which is not too far from here,
wrote, I just listened to the last mouse puzzle and knew the answer immediately,
as I have a favorite expression. The early bird catches the worm, but the second mouse gets the
cheese. And Tim Moreland from Cottage Grove, Minnesota, which is a bit further from
here, wrote, hello, Sharon and Greg. In episode 210, you posed the puzzle about the man with mice
and how he knew he had captured the last one. When I described the puzzle to a friend, he asked,
how does the man know the trap hadn't snapped just moments before he found it,
and the remaining mice just did not have time to attack the uneaten bait.
Which seems to be a fair question.
I was going to say that, yeah.
I also thought during the puzzle that, you know, if I saw a dead human near some food,
I don't think that I'd eat the food, but I don't know if mouse psychology works the
same way or not.
From mice, we turn to mousers.
James in England, which is even further from here,
has been helpfully sending news on the doings of his country's governmental mousers,
and he recently provided another important update with the subject line,
oh dear. It seems that Palmerston, the Foreign Office's official mouser, who we last covered
in episode 191, has moved on from catching mice to catching ducklings.
The Times reported on this very important development back in July
and included a photo of the kitty with a duckling in his mouth as confirmation of the sad state of affairs.
The Times noted that Lord Palmerston was famously belligerent during his time as Foreign Secretary
and the Foreign Office's cat is clearly following in his namesake's
footsteps. I had previously reported on how Palmerston has been fighting with the UK's
official chief mouser, Larry, and I wondered at the development of the Times calling Palmerston
a chief mouser in their story. They also conspicuously noted what I'd mentioned before,
that Palmerston has been catching significantly more mice than Larry,
and I wondered if the Times is subtly backing a coup.
We'll have to keep our eye on that.
One of them is named Palmerston and one is named Larry?
Yes.
There's got to be a story behind that.
Maybe that's a reason enough right there to back Palmerston.
Aaron Sims in Melbourne, Australia,
who is the furthest from here correspondent I'll be reporting on today,
wrote to let us know about another cat with a job.
Hi, Greg and Sharon.
I came across this story on Reddit and immediately thought of Futility Closet.
It's about a cat in White Settlement City in Texas, employed by a library as official pest control specialist,
who was fired after a councilman disapproved but got a reprieve after an internet
backlash. And we are all for felines having jobs. Many of you probably know that Sasha is our
hard-working mascot, and the story that Aaron sent was about Browser the library cat. This is a story
that broke in 2016 when a member of the White Settlement City Council tried to get Browser removed from his post at the city's library,
where he had been since 2010 when he was recruited as a kitten from an animal shelter and put in charge of pest control.
Browser was pretty popular with both the library staff and the public,
but a city worker demanded that Browser be removed after the worker wasn't allowed to bring his dog to work at City Hall.
Councilman L.Z. Clements brought a motion to the White Settlement City Council,
which then voted 2-1 that there should be no animals allowed in any city facilities,
meaning that Browser would have to go.
The mayor and city council members then found themselves on the receiving end
of a huge internet backlash in support of Browser,
who had become more than just a pest controller.
Ron White, the city's
mayor and Browser's supporter, said at the time, he helps children read. Little children will come
into the library and they'll read to Browser. White received emails from all 50 U.S. states,
as well as Canada, France, Germany, England, Australia, Iceland, Guam, Malaysia, and Singapore,
all in support of keeping Browser, as well as a citywide
petition with over a thousand signatures, which is pretty good for a city with a population of
about 17,000. Clements, who had introduced the motion to oust Browser, then reversed himself
and brought a motion to allow the kitty to stay. It passed 3-0. Clements' wife said that they had
been receiving many messages about the cat of a rather
unfriendly variety. She said, we have gotten nothing but hate emails and hate messages since
this whole thing started. We just wanted it to all go away. Although Clements did call the second
vote that saved Browser, he was defeated in the election that followed a few months later,
apparently at least in part because of his role in initially raising the issue. To the end, Clements maintained that there really shouldn't be animals in city
buildings, and he threatened to call another vote on the issue on his last day in office.
But according to a CBS News article, Mayor Ron White says as far as he's concerned,
Browser's job title is now Library Cat for Life. And White added, Browser is still employed and According to one of the articles I read on the topic,
more than 200 U.S. cities have library cats, both as library attractions and pest control.
Cats can be cheaper than exterminators, and there's some concern about using chemicals for pests in places where small children tend to be. And in Browser's case,
he has even been a moneymaker for the library, as he starred in a 2017 photo calendar that was
sold by the library. I couldn't find any information about Browser online that was
more recent than 2016, so I contacted the White Settlement Public Library to ask them if Browser
was still there
and they very nicely told me that he definitely is guarding the library they said although they
also said that he spends most of his time sleeping and eating so i'm going to assume that they meant
during the library's off hours i bet i bet he's more effective or might be than some other method
of pest control too i mean cats are designed to do that. They're designed for pest control.
Yeah.
Yeah, and like I said, in this way,
you don't have to worry about chemicals.
Yeah.
I mean, that's on top of just wanting to have a cat there.
You can make a really good argument for that.
Yeah, and cheaper, too, than exterminators.
One of our German listeners tweeted at us,
and I'm sorry, but there is no possible way
for me to pronounce their Twitter handle.
But they said,
this is an addition to your lovely episode on cats, English Link.
Thanks for the show.
And included a link to a Wikipedia article on Mike the cat.
Mike was a rather famous feline who helped guard the gates of the British Museum
in the early 20th century.
After his death, Time magazine devoted two articles to him.
British newspapers carried obituaries, and at least one ode was written to him.
In 1908, Black Jack, one of the museum's cats, showed up with something in his mouth, walked up to E.A. Wallace Budge, the keeper of Egyptian antiquities, and deposited a kitten at his feet.
and he spent the next 20 years as the unofficial guardian of the museum,
cared for by Budge and later also by the gatekeepers at the main gate,
where Mike liked to spend much of his time.
According to a pamphlet that Budge wrote about Mike after his death,
the keeper of the mummied cats took care to feed him during the lean years of the war,
and whoever went short, Mike did not.
Mike retired from his official duties in 1924, but it was said that he continued
to take a strong interest in the goings-on in the area and was especially active when it came
to chasing off dogs from the courtyard, who were reported to have fled in terror from him.
After his death, a tombstone was erected for him near the Great Russell Street entrance,
and the inscription reads, he assisted in keeping the main gate of the British Museum
from February 1909 to January 1929. I've never heard of this. That's a great story.
It was a really sweet story. Moving on to dogs. Doug Shaw sent us an email that said,
the tale of Oney the male dog from an old episode of the podcast stuck with me. I loved it. If it
stuck with you too, you will be glad to know that the
U.S. Postal Museum is having an Oni Festival. And this is a throwback to episode eight about the
19th century dog who became a mascot of the American railway postal system, riding the trains
with the mailbags throughout the U.S. and eventually traveling around the world. We were pretty pleased
to learn that Oni is still commemorated, although unfortunately we didn't get Doug's email in time to alert listeners of the event before it happened.
The Dog Days of Summer Family Festival was held in late July at the Smithsonian's National Postal
Museum in Washington, D.C., and it does look like it was held in 2017 also, so if anyone is interested,
they can check next summer and see if the event recurs. The event this year had a number of activities, many aimed at children,
including a demonstration with an Amtrak police canine unit,
an opportunity to create an Oni hand puppet,
a map to track Oni's travels,
a ride for young children in a hand-pushed train car linked to another car carrying a stuffed Oni dog,
and an animated movie about Oni, during which you
could sing along to the Oni song. So if anyone does make it to an Oni festival, you do have to
let us know how the Oni song goes. That'd be great if it's just an annual thing. It's a year after a
year. And speaking of older episodes, Amy Franz wrote to us about episode 79, in which we covered
a 1950s Quaker oats promotion that gave away square inches of
land in northwestern Canada, and Enoch Soames, the possibly fictional time traveler who maybe
appeared in the round reading room at the British Museum in 1997. And incidentally, that is the same
British Museum that Mike helped to guard. Blackjack, the cat that brought Mike to the museum, was
apparently quite fond of hanging out in that same reading room. Amy said that she's a teacher and just started
listening to our podcast during her summer break. She said, I shotgunned your whole library in about
a month, listening while traveling, while visiting my family, even while sitting on the couch.
Your voices will forever remind me of this summer. My favorite episode, hands down,
voices will forever remind me of this summer. My favorite episode, hands down, is the one square inch of the Yukon from October 25th, 2015. When I was around 10 years old, my father mentioned
owning land in the Yukon. Since I was a kid, I took him seriously and for years assumed my dad
owned land in Alaska. At that time, I assumed the Yukon was the nickname for any place near Alaska.
Fast forward 25 years later, and I was surprised when I heard your episode.
I contacted my dad and asked if he'd gotten his land
through that promotion.
He was just as surprised I knew about it.
He said yes, he had been about nine when it happened,
and he still has his certificate.
He was delighted that I knew about it.
Yet my favorite part of that episode
is the story of Enoch Soames
and his mysterious appearance in the future. I was awed by it. I was thrilled by the beauty of the act and its implications. Either it
was true and our world has had yet another mysterious layer applied to it, or someone
arranged it just for the sheer poetry. Either way, I was wonderstruck. Thank you so much for telling
us all about it. And now I have listened to all the episodes. My withdrawal has begun.
It's not easy going from hours and hours of listening
to a new episode once a week.
Whatever shall I do?
I'll just have to read all your books
and continue perusing the website.
Thank you so much for all you do.
I eagerly await your newest episodes.
Thanks so much to everyone
who sends their comments and feedback.
If you have any you'd like to send, you can reach us at podcast at futilitycloset.com.
And a special thank you in advance for tips on how to correctly pronounce your name.
It's my turn to try to solve a lateral thinking puzzle.
Greg is going to present me with a strange-sounding situation,
and I have to try to work out what's going on, asking only yes or no questions.
This is from listener Bryant Pocock.
A man is participating in an auto racing event with very strict safety rules.
He's known as a very safe driver, yet on this day he crashes into a barrier and dies.
After review by officials and police, it is found that the race car was mechanically sound,
no wrongdoing occurred, and the man's safety equipment was up to date.
But no changes are made to the safety rules, and in fact the same racing series resumes the following day.
Why did no changes occur?
Okay, did this actually happen?
Yes.
Does it matter where or when?
I suppose not.
Okay. Were there any specific characteristics about the driver that I need to figure out?
I'll say yes.
Okay.
Depending what you mean.
Anything about the driver that made his case unusual or specific or like it wouldn't apply to other people?
Yes, I have to say yes to that.
Okay.
Does it have anything to do with his gender?
No.
With what species he is?
The traditional species question.
No.
No.
Darn.
It could have been like an orangutan or something.
That's a whole other puzzle.
Yeah.
Okay.
His age?
No.
Any physical abilities or disabilities?
I'll say no.
Okay.
Was there any kind of anything cognitively, like differences in or he's not understanding something properly for some cognitive reason or...
No.
Nothing like that.
But there is something about the driver that is relevant that I need to understand.
Yes.
To understand this puzzle.
Yes.
Was he in the car at the time?
Yes.
Is this what I would think of as a car?
Yes.
Normal car?
Yes.
Like an automobile kind of car?
Mm-hmm.
Okay.
And you said it doesn't matter where it was.
That's right.
Or anything about the car that I need to know?
No.
Anything about the race course?
No.
The other cars?
No.
No?
Okay.
Sorry.
No, no, nothing going to help you.
You're on your own.
Okay, so all I have is that there's something about the driver. Yes. Is there anything
else about the situation that the driver is in that I need to understand or know? No, I don't
think there is. So something about the driver himself. easily spot yes really uh yeah something that i anything to
do with his size no um i already asked about his age didn't i you did i did um is he a siamese
twin somehow or any kind of twin i really want to say yes to that. Yeah. We've had so many where the answer is somehow that he's a twin. No, he's not a twin.
There is something about the driver that I would see. Would I see this if he were seated in the
car? Yes. So if I were in the stands, would I be able to see this? I don't believe so, no.
I'd have to be kind of close up to the driver?
Yes.
Is it something he's wearing or not wearing?
No.
Something about his head or face?
No.
His body?
Difficult.
His hands?
His feet?
I can't be that specific.
I can't really answer this question.
Something I can see about the driver, though, and it's not that he's an orangutan.
And it's not his gender.
It's not his age.
It's not his size.
It's not some kind of – I mean, he's not like missing a hand or missing two hands or missing feet.
Or he's a cyborg or an android or he's not a human.
If you could see him at the starting
line you wouldn't have observed this characteristic no at the starting line i wouldn't have but i
would have observed it part way through the race yes um did he have some kind of a physical
condition like he had an epileptic fit or or um um uh he became unconscious or like some kind of physical condition manifested itself?
Yes.
And it's a he.
It happens to be he, but it could be one.
Okay.
It's not like a woman went into labor or something.
But you're very close.
So some kind of, would you say some kind of medical ailment manifested itself partway through the race?
Yes.
Was he narcoleptic and he fell asleep?
No, although that's good.
Did he lose consciousness?
Yes.
Did he have a stroke?
I'll just give it to you.
The man died of a heart attack before he hit the wall.
Oh, no.
This is a true story.
In 2008, Court Summerfield was participating in the 24
Hours of Lemons, a racing series for $500 cars at Altamont Raceway in California. On the first day
of a two-day race, his Volvo collided with a barrier with no apparent attempt to break or
turn out of the way. After the crash, he was declared dead of a heart attack at the hospital.
The California Highway Patrol found no fault in the race car's safety equipment, so the race
resumed the following day. Brian adds, I participated in the same racing series, and I know some of the people who were
at the race in 2008. No one has died or been seriously injured since then, and I can say
that the race officials take safety very seriously, even if the cars rarely go very fast.
So the question I was supposed to ask about what I could notice about him was,
is he still alive? Is he dead? Is what I'm supposed to notice is that he is dead. Oh boy,
I have to add that one to my repertoire now. Is he human? Is he a twin? Is he dead? Okay.
So thanks, Brian, for sending that in.
Thank you. And if anybody else has a puzzle that they'd like to send in for us to try,
you can send it to us at podcast at futilitycloset.com.
at futilitycloset.com.
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