Futility Closet - 264-Jack Renton and the Saltwater People

Episode Date: September 9, 2019

In 1868, Scottish sailor Jack Renton found himself the captive of a native people in the Solomon Islands, but through luck and skill he rose to become a respected warrior among them. In this week's episode of the Futility Closet podcast we'll tell the story of Renton's life among the saltwater people and his return to the Western world. We'll also catch some more speeders and puzzle over a regrettable book. Intro: Thanks to one representative's 1904 demand, the U.S. House dining room serves a perpetual bean soup. A 1962 Times correspondent asserts that all thrushes quote Mozart. Sources for our feature on Jack Renton: Nigel Randell, The White Headhunter: The Story of a 19-Century Sailor Who Survived a South Seas Heart of Darkness, 2004. Clive Moore, Making Mala: Malaita in Solomon Islands, 1870s–1930s, 2017. Judith A. Bennett, Wealth of the Solomons: A History of a Pacific Archipelago, 1800-1978, 1987. Walter George Ivens, Revival: Melanesians of the South-East Solomon Islands, 1927. Dennis Chute, "Shipwrecked on an Island Paradise," Edmonton Journal, Feb. 1, 2004, D11. Christopher Hudson, "Life and Death of a White Headhunter," [Melbourne] Sunday Herald-Sun, Aug. 17, 2003, 37. "The White Headhunter," Geographical 75:8 (August 2003), 64. Stephen McGinty, "Portrait of a Head Hunter," Scotsman, July 26, 2003, 1. "Secret Life of the White Headhunter," Scotsman, March 2, 2003. "The Adventures of John Renton," [Melbourne] Argus, Oct. 23, 1875. "The Recovery of John Renton From the Solomon Islands," Rockhampton [Queensland] Bulletin, Sept. 17, 1875. "Renton, John," Solomon Islands Historical Encyclopaedia 1893-1978 (accessed Aug. 25, 2019). Listener mail: "German Constitutional Court Questions Speed Camera Reliability," TheNewspaper.com, July 5, 2019. "Finland," SpeedingEurope.com, July 7, 2019. Joe Pinsker, "Finland, Home of the $103,000 Speeding Ticket," Atlantic, March 12, 2015. Wikipedia, "Day-Fine" (accessed Aug. 31, 2019). Bill McKelvey, "Along the Delaware & Raritan Canal: A History & Resources Database," D&R Canal Watch, 2011. Ken Hansen, "How-to: Texas Amateur Radio Operator License Plate," Irving Amateur Radio Club, Jan. 25, 2018. "Speed and Red Light Cameras," Governors Highway Safety Association (accessed Sept. 3, 2019). "Automated Speed-Camera Enforcement," Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (accessed Sept. 3, 2019). Wikipedia, "Traffic Enforcement Camera" (accessed Sept. 3, 2019). This week's lateral thinking puzzle was devised by Sharon. Here are three 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 [e-mail]. Thanks for listening!

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 soup edict to a thrush's Mozart. This is episode 264. I'm Greg Ross. And I'm Sharon Ross. In 1868, Scottish sailor Jack Renton found himself the captive of a native people in the Solomon Islands, but through luck and skill, he rose to become a respected warrior among them. In today's show, we'll tell the story of Renton's life among the saltwater people and his return to the western world. We'll also catch some more

speeders and puzzle over a regrettable book. On August 8, 1875, the Australian schooner Bob Tail Nag was standing off the northeast coast of Malaita in the Solomon Islands east of New Guinea when a group of islanders approached it in a canoe. One of them was holding a piece of board wrapped in a leaf umbrella. On the board was a message written in charcoal in English. It said, Please take me off to England. The chief of this island asks a present from you. One of the ship's crew come to shore that I can speak with him. Shipwrecked on this island about five years ago. Some islanders were gathered on the shore, and at first the captain didn't recognize that there was a white man among them,

as his skin was nearly as brown as his companions. The others seemed to be restraining him. The captain dispatched a boat, and as it approached, two natives brought the white man forward. He was naked. One of the sailors stood up and shouted to him, asking what gifts would convince the islanders to release him. He said they'd brought some axes. The man shouted an answer in a language they didn't understand and finally held up five fingers. The sailor offered five axes, and the islanders let the man go, and he clambered into the boat. His name was Jack Renton. He was about 27 years old, educated and intelligent, though he had trouble speaking English at first. Occasionally, he would use native words without realizing it. The story he told was unparalleled.

They worked out that he'd been shipwrecked here for eight years, not five. He'd been born in the Orkney Islands, off the northeast coast of Scotland, the eldest son of a tailor. He'd spent a lot of time on fishing boats at his hometown of Stromness, where he was remembered as being extroverted, charming, and athletic. Like many Scottish islanders in the 19th century, he'd eventually gone to Liverpool and signed on to a merchant sailing ship to make his living at sea. He made six voyages over three years, and in January 1868 had signed on for a seventh, a steam packet bound from San Francisco to Sydney. But on the night before he was to leave, he was shanghaied, drugged, and pressed into service on another ship, the Raynard, which was headed for McKean's Island in the middle of the Pacific to traffic Guano. The work was appalling, and he yearned for his freedom, so he and three

other crew members who'd been abducted fled secretly one night in a boat with two water kegs, a tin of ship's biscuits, four hams, and a frying pan. What they didn't have was a compass, and they drifted for five weeks before landing finally at Manaumba Island, off the northeast, and a frying pan. What they didn't have was a compass, and they drifted for five weeks before landing finally at Manaumba Island, off the northeast coast of Malaita in the Solomon Islands. The people here had mistrusted white men ever since European treasure hunters had brought disease to the islands in the 16th century, so ships that approached were normally attacked and their sailors killed. As Renton's boat approached the shore, it was intercepted by warriors in canoes who ransacked

their belongings, including their clothing, and left them with nothing but their trousers. Renton was separated from the others and taken across a lagoon to Sulufu, an artificial island that had been built on a foundation of rock coral. The island covered two acres and had about 300 inhabitants. They called themselves the Saltwater People, and they lived in an uneasy tension with the Bush People, who owned that section of the coast. The Bush People needed fish, and the Saltwater People needed fresh water, which led to continual skirmishes between them. Renton lived on this island for eight years. His history there has had to be reconstructed. He published his own version of the story when he got back to Australia, but researchers,

especially the author Nigel Randell Evans, have since visited the people and learned their oral history, which is kept meticulously and records some events that Renton had left out. That shows that Renton had been purchased by Kabu, the chief of Sulufu. Before he learned the islander's language, Renton wasn't much used to the village, so he spent his time playing with the children, who gradually taught him to speak. He learned to fish and divided his catch among the villagers, and in time he began to cook for the leaders, and Caboo came to see him as a son. He realized that some of the stories they told concerned the whale boat Albert, which was well known on the Pacific seaboard. Short on food and fresh water in 1829, that ship had sent two boats to the shore of

Malaita. The boats had been waylaid by war canoes, and the crewmen had been hacked to death on the beach within sight of the ship. But now Renton learned that the Albert's carpenter, whose name was Dury, had been spared and lived for a time on Sulufu. In fact, his handiwork was still visible around the island, whose structures included dovetail joints, mortise and tenon, and wooden dowels. Renton realized that Caboo may have purchased him because Dury had proved useful on the island. If that was true, then they would expect a lot of him. Fortunately, he learned many useful skills

during his boyhood in Orkney and later in his sailing career, including gardening, fishing, and net making. He impressed them particularly in building a canoe, and that transformed his status with them. But that was not enough. One night, he was summoned to the men's communal hut. The oral history says, Cabu wanted to make him hard. He knew that killing was the way to make him hard, and that if he killed, then the people would respect him. Cabu told him that his shipmates had been killed by the Manaomba people, the ones who had first captured them, a few weeks after Renton had left.

He said that it was their custom that every killing must be avenged, and so Renton must now kill three men. This he couldn't face, so that night he fled the village in a stolen canoe. He had a destination in mind. In his earlier work, he'd been given an axe, which he knew must have been made by Europeans. When he asked where it had come from, he was told Santa Isabel, an island 25 miles to the northwest. So he headed there now. But in order to enter the open sea, he had to pass first through a reef that hugged the shore, and the only channel through that reef lay beyond the village of Manaomba, the very one he'd been ordered to attack. He hoped to slip past it silently in the night, but day broke as he approached it, and its people were already stirring.

So he made his way quickly to the shore and hid in a mangrove swamp. He was too late. They had seen him, and within half an hour, they'd followed him there and ordered him to come out. He was too late. They had seen him, and within half an hour, they'd followed him there and ordered him to come out. They took him prisoner and were debating whether to kill him when Kabu and the people of Sulufu arrived in two war canoes and, after much shouted negotiation, took him home again, where, to his bewilderment, he was widely congratulated. Kabu proclaimed the heroic deed that Renton had performed. When he'd learned that his shipmates had been killed, he'd courageously set out alone to avenge their murder. he'd learned that his shipmates had been killed, he'd courageously set out alone to avenge their murder. He'd gone straight to Manaomba and hidden himself in the swamp nearby, clearly planning to pick off his victims one by one. This showed the height of courage, Kabu said, so now they must

make a warrior of him. Renton was speechless, but the others took that as a sign of modesty, and his prestige rose even higher. So now, perversely, he found that his respect was increased greatly among the saltwater people. The boys invited him on a hunting party, and he taught them to play football using a ball made of plated coconut leaves, and the men trained him to wield a spear. Renton would live with the saltwater people from 1868 to 1875. In the account he finally gave when he reached Australia, he made no mention of taking part in war parties, but the oral history of the islanders tells of a white-skinned headhunter who lived among them and became a revered warrior. The Australian biologist Mike McCoy lived among the islanders for 26 years. He told the Scotsman, there is no doubt that Renton became a headhunter. He would have had

to for his street credibility. The islanders recall even now what a strong warrior he was. The first raid in which he participated was made on Manaomba, where the oral history says he killed three men. He went on five further raids, killing men each time. A former companion said that he made innovations in the design of war canoes and introduced discipline to the raiding parties. His prowess as a fighter kept raising his esteem within the village. At length, Caboo said to the people, if anyone harms this young man now, his backside will hang from my wall, McCoy, the biologist, said, Renton was accepted into male society and lived in the men's longhouse. His warrior prowess and closeness to the saltwater people chief, Caboo, led to the bush people putting a bounty on his head.

When he went to his favorite spots, one was an idyllic-looking natural swimming pool on the main island, he always had an armed guard to protect him. an idyllic-looking natural swimming pool on the main island, he always had an armed guard to protect him. The oral history also mentions a woman named Boree who it says loved Renton and she became Renton's woman, though they were never married. It appears she died in childbirth. Renton had not forgot his old life and still thought of making his way back to Europe. In 1871, a letter reached him from a ship's captain who had heard rumors of a white castaway and who proposed to meet him at Sagana Island. But Caboo wouldn't allow him to go there and wouldn't even allow him to keep the letter. Brenton had so distinguished himself that the people now regarded him as indispensable.

He thought now that he might never get off the island, but a new opportunity presented itself. Increasingly, ships were visiting the islands in a practice called blackbirding, seeking islanders to work as laborers in Queensland. In return, they offered Western goods, tobacco, calico, axes, knives, and rifles. Caboo and Renton realized that if they were going to get European technology, they would have to pay for it. They collected porpoise teeth, which in former times had been the most valuable currency on Malaita. But as they made their way down the coast with these, they found it had become a wasteland. Its inhabitants were either dead or had fled the area. At length, they reached a large settlement run by a man named Bera, who protected thousands of people along the southern coast. He was able to guarantee recruits to the Blackbirders

who came to him every month. Renton thought that this might finally offer a way to reach a western ship, but he feared that Bera might ransom him for an extortion at price, so his party made its way back to Sulufu. Renton saw that the incursion of the white man was inevitable and wanted to prepare the people for it, but Caboo was aging now and couldn't be convinced of the threat that faced him. So when the bobtail nag appeared off the reef that August, Renton wrote his message on a fragment of an old canoe and asked two companions to row it out to the schooner, and after a tense parley, he found himself aboard the ship. To the surprise of the crew there, Renton urged them to stay.

He pointed out the island's value in recruiting and described the trade goods that the islanders would want in return for their labor. The captain, Murray, was doubtful but agreed to stay another day. In the meanwhile, they washed Renton and gave him a haircut and his seaman's clothes. The next morning, Caboo and a party of natives came aboard. The oral history says, Renton stood on deck and all the men looked up, but they didn't recognize him in his clothes and his short hair.

Caboo asked, are you Jack? And Renton said, it's me, father. Caboo shook his head and said it couldn't be because he looked like some kind of devil. And Renton said again, it's me, it's Jack, your boy. Renton said something to the islanders in their native tongue and a cry went up. Renton explained to the crew that he told them he was leaving. Thomas Slade, the Australian journalist who later described this scene, wrote, At this juncture it appeared that Renton had become a favorite with many of the islanders.

The tidings were heard with great lamentation and with real tears. The white men gave the islanders many gifts, and after much discussion, Caboo agreed that some of his people could go to Australia. The arrangement was that the bobtail nag would return and pick up at least 50 recruits, bringing Renton as an interpreter, and Caboo would get one rifle and ammunition for each recruit. With that, the ship sailed for Brisbane. Thomas Slade's article was published within two weeks of the bobtail nag's arrival in Australia. Renton wouldn't agree to speak publicly, but he met with the colonial authorities and representatives from the Queensland Parliament. He told them that their recruiting efforts often amounted to little more than kidnapping and that

they invited retaliation from the islanders. He said that recruiting could be carried out ethically, but that it would have to involve the village chiefs and compensate them for the loss of their manpower. He offered to demonstrate the new approach he was proposing and returned to Sulufu two months later with trunks full of gifts. After these were distributed, many young men volunteered to come back to Queensland, and Caboo accompanied the ship on a five-day cruise along the coast, introducing them to other villages along the way. When the bobtail nag returned to Brisbane, it had signed up more recruits in a shorter period than any Blackbirder had managed in eight years,

and Renton's share of the profits, and the fees he'd received for telling his story to journalists, paid for his passage home to Scotland. There, his family came to meet the profits, and the fees he'd received for telling his story to journalists, paid for his passage home to Scotland. There, his family came to meet the boat, but Renton was so sunburned that his father passed him several times on the deck without recognizing him. Finally, Renton said, Don't you know me, father? The town was abuzz with news of his return, but Renton seemed abashed at the attention, and his family avoided the reception committee at Stromness and went straight home. Renton's mother had prepared a small room for him in the attic, and he didn't leave the house for three days. His youngest brother, Joe, said later, he was most awful quiet and did not have much to say about himself or his strange experiences. He visited old friends, but they found he was very reluctant to talk about his life on the island.

One remembered that, quote, he used to walk on Gray's Pier with the men who walked back and forth of an evening, and often he was at a loss to express himself, some words he seemed to have forgotten altogether. His father bought a rowing boat that Renton dubbed the Bobtail Nag, and he spent a lot of time exploring uninhabited islands and walking on the coast with Joe. Joe remembered, he used to bathe a lot in the sea, and I never saw anyone so much at home in the water. He could dive and stay underwater for ever so long. Other friends remarked on his strange style of swimming. He would lie flat in the water, face down, and reach his arms out alternately in long strokes. He was pleased to see his family, but he longed for the South Seas and couldn't adjust to the Scottish climate, so he wrote to Captain Murray proposing to serve as a recruiting agent for the

port authorities in Brisbane. They offered him 200 pounds a year to serve in one of six newly established posts to supervise recruiting. Back in the Pacific, he recruited in the New Hebrides, but asked to be excused from working in the Solomon Islands, the site of his long sojourn. This may have been because he had a reputation there for killing, and because recruits who were returning to the islands from Australia would now have enough English to be able to reveal that, but he did send gifts to his friends on Sulufu. In 1878, his ship stopped at the island of Ayoba en route to Australia, and he did send gifts to his friends on Sulufu. In 1878, his ship stopped at the island of Aoba en route to Australia, and he went ashore with a companion to get fresh water. When they

failed to return, a party landed to investigate, and the headless bodies of the two men were found in the interior. A recruiting ship brought news of Renton's death to Sulufu. The oral history says, when the captain left, Kabu wept and wept. He was desperate to go to Aoba, but everyone said it was too far, miles across the open sea, and that they would all die if they tried. Cabu mourned for many days. He allowed his hair to grow and refused to wash or eat. The other members of the family did the same. They did nothing but grieve. No eating, no fishing, no gardening, nothing. Finally, after three weeks, Cabu led a procession to villagers into the bush where Jack Renton used to wash. It has always been known as Renton's Pool. As he steppedu led a procession of villagers into the bush where Jack Renton used to wash.

It has always been known as Renton's Pool. As he stepped in, a great shout of grief went up from all the people present, and as he washed, he wept. The news spread to all of the surrounding villages, and that day thousands of men bathed and cut their hair. That evening, all came to Sulufu with offerings, and 300 pigs were killed. The eating and the dancing and the telling stories of Renton's deeds went on for three days, but it is said that Caboo grieved for three years after the death of Jack Renton. He is remembered on the island to this day. The biologist McCoy said, It is amazing. The Paramount chief has a huge blown-up photographic portrait of Renton in his hut. When I showed people another picture of Renton from the Australian National Library,

one old woman reached out her hand to touch it and murmured, Jackie, Jackie. It was unbelievable and so moving. Futility Closet would not still be here today if it weren't for the generous support of our amazing listeners. If you'd like to help support our celebration of the quirky and the curious, you can find a donate button in the support section of the website at futilitycloset.com. Or if you'd like to make a more ongoing donation to our show,

you can join our Patreon campaign, where you'll also get access to bonus material like outtakes, more discussions on some of the stories, extralateral thinking puzzles, and updates on Sasha, our feline futility closet muse. You can learn more at our Patreon page at patreon.com slash futility closet, or see the supportive section of our website for the link. And thanks so much to everyone who helps keep Futility Closet going. We really couldn't do this without you. The puzzle in episode 250 was about knowing that a driver had been speeding,

and we discussed speeding detection cameras and speeding fines as follow-ups in episode 257. We've continued to hear from listeners about this topic, and some of what follows will spoil the puzzle from episode 250. Frank Kroger wrote to let us know that a German constitutional court recently nullified a speeding ticket based on a particular model of speed camera, and suggested that German motorists might now be free to ignore at least some speed cameras. Frank very helpfully sent a link to an English-language article from the newspaper from July. The defendant in this case had received a ticket for speeding, and the man's lawyer requested the raw data from the speed camera. As this model of camera doesn't

store the raw data, the lawyer deemed it unverifiable evidence and moved to have it suppressed. Both a district court and then an appellate court rejected this argument, saying that the burden is on the defendant to refute the evidence, and that as a German standards body had certified the method used by the camera, it's presumed to be accurate. But a state constitutional court ruled for the defendant, finding that speed camera readings that can't be independently verified violate a person's right to a fair trial, and likened the lack of raw data to convicting someone on DNA evidence but destroying the blood samples so they can't be independently tested. And so it was ruled that the defendant does not have to pay his 100 euro or 112 dollar speeding ticket, and that he's to be reimbursed for his legal expenses. It does seem like kind of a lot of trouble to go to, though,

to contest a speeding ticket, unless maybe he thought it was the principle of the thing. That does seem reasonable, though. The burden of proof should be on the ones, you know, if the government is making the positive assertion, then they should have to back it. It's weird that the camera doesn't save the data. Well, I'm going to guess that they're going to switch to cameras

now that do after that. We also heard from Nick Hartley from Dresden, Germany, who wrote, Hi, Greg and Sharon. Hearing your discussion of high speeding fines in northern European countries, here is a link to a page about speeding fines in Finland, where the fine you get depends on your taxable income. So there are examples of over 100,000 euros. On the other hand, I have heard people say that punishable with a fine is equivalent to legal for rich people, so maybe this is an example that other countries could follow. Keep up the great work. So this is a rather interesting idea. An article in The Atlantic discusses the Finnish system in

some depth and explained that in Finland, fines for speeding, as well as some other crimes such as shoplifting or violating securities exchange laws, are income based, where they start with an estimation of how much spending money a person would have per day, and then divide by two, as that's considered to be a reasonable amount of money to be deprived of. Then there are rules for how many days the offender will be deprived of that amount, based on the severity of the crime. So driving about 15 miles per hour over the speed limit will earn you a multiplier of 12 days, while 25 miles per hour over will cost you the equivalent of 22 days. The maximum number of days is 120, but there is no upper limit on the total fine, which, as Nick noted, can lead to speeding fines of more than 100,000 euros. Several other countries use these sliding scale fines or day fines in at least some

cases, but Finland was the first to introduce them in 1921, and their use seems to be more widespread there. The US in the late 1980s and the UK in the early 90s both experimented a bit with day fines, but they weren't popular and the attempts were soon abandoned. Although flat rate fines sound fair when you first think about it, as everyone who commits the same crime receives the same punishment, if you think about it some more, which I'll admit that I hadn't done before receiving Nick's email, fines that are proportionate to your income do maybe make more sense, as a flat rate fine could be significantly more punitive to a less wealthy person than to one with a higher income. Sliding scale fines make the impact of the punishment more equal,

so the deterrent effects of the fines should then be more similar across different income levels and are expected to be more likely to deter wealthier people from breaking the law. I guess they'd also bring in more revenue. I mean, that's not the goal, but... Well, I guess it depends how wealthy your population is for whether they're going to bring in more revenue or not. Maybe less. We also heard from a couple of listeners about past uses of much lower tech methods

of catching speeders before the use of speed cameras. Peter Rizou wrote, Dear Futilians, Thanks for your weekly escape from today's madness. I profoundly enjoy it. Here is a small note from Holland. The puzzle about the police being able to find a driver, from calculating his average speed over a trajectory and the follow-up concerning route speed control in Europe, triggered some memories. This system existed way before road cameras and computerized databases were available. As a schoolboy, I was an avid reader of the Dutch edition of Reader's Digest. In 1968 or so, this magazine described a clever system of speed limit

enforcement in Peru. Upon entering the highway, say in Lima, drivers were given an official note with a timestamp. This note was to be handed over when arriving at the destination, say Juan Cayo. The local policia thus was able to check average speed and determine the value of the fine. I was only 10 or 11 years old then, but I remember thinking Peru was a great country for those wanting to drive fast and lunch extensively halfway through the journey. Keep up the good work. That's a good point. Similarly, Daryl Francis sent something that one of his professors had shared. My German professor grew up in West Berlin during the Cold War. While the city was rather isolated,

residents were allowed to drive through East Germany to West Germany on particular roads. When a car entered the roadway, an East German officer would note the time and then call another officer at the other end of the roadway who would note their estimated time of arrival. If the car arrived late, the car would be searched for contraband and the driver and passengers would be interrogated. If the car arrived early, the driver would receive a speeding ticket. That's interesting. That'd be kind of an anxious trip. Yeah, you have to get it just right. And it sounds like a somewhat similar system is still in use today for truckers. As Trey Hart wrote, listening to your lateral thinking puzzle about the speeding ticket, you read several emails about how this is commonly done outside the

U.S. with cameras. One thing that was not mentioned is commercial truck drivers can also get speeding tickets from their own driving log books. Every time they leave a loading dock and every time they pass through a weigh station, the mileage and time is noted. Their log books can be audited to ensure the times and the distances do not exceed the speed limits along the route. Furthermore, truck drivers are only allowed to work for up to 14 hours per day and then required to take a break. This law affects a friend of mine that has a 15-hour route he drives. He is legally required to pull over one hour short of his destination for eight hours before he can go home.

If he drove any faster to make up the time and get home sooner, he would get a speeding ticket. If he kept driving, he would violate his operating hours. Keep up the great work. Your podcasts are always fun to listen to on my commute to and from work. I had no idea all this was going on around the world. I thought people just got in a vehicle and drove somewhere. It's much more complicated.

Lots of complications. And on a surprisingly early use of technology to catch speeders, Dickon Hyatt wrote, Hi, Greg, Sharon, and Sasha. I've been going through old episodes of Futility Closet, and I recently heard the puzzle about catching speeders by timing a car's arrival at two places. I thought you might be interested to know that one of the first ever uses of the telegraph was for this purpose. The Delaware and Raritan Canal in New Jersey was built for mule-drawn boats, but it nevertheless had a speed limit of 4.5 miles per hour to prevent vessels from forming wakes that would erode the banks of the canal. Shortly after the telegraph was invented in 1846, one was installed and was put to use on the canal

to coordinate the operation of its locks and its many swing gate bridges. It was also used to catch speeders who would be given a hefty $5 fine. And I thought this was a really interesting early use for the telegraph, and from what I could find, that $5 fine in 1846 is equivalent to about $167 today, which is kind of a hefty speeding ticket. Yeah. But it also seemed to me that it could be quite a task to have to figure out in 1846 whether your boat might be exceeding a four and a half mile an hour speed limit. That's a good point. Because you stand to lose so much money. Yeah. If you're like one mile an hour over the limit,

you just find out and get this huge bill. On one of the possible reasons that we don't use interconnected speed cameras in the US, Russell Fincher wrote, Hello, Sharon and Greg. I've enjoyed your recent discussion on the idea of getting a speeding ticket by being recorded in two different places

and some system calculating the speed required to get between the two. I think I might have an answer to why we don't see this in the United States. My wife and I noticed that one of our neighbors had the same license plate on three different cars. Being naturally suspicious, we contacted the police about it and learned that in the U.S., ham radio operators are allowed to get custom vanity license plates with their radio call sign instead of a standard license plate number, and that in some states, the same plate number can be attached to up to three different vehicles simultaneously. This plate also has the radio operator designation written on it as well, see link for picture and more info. You can imagine that if two cohabitating people who

share vehicles are driving two cars with the same plate number and are recorded by cameras miles away from each other within a few seconds, this would send a weird signal to any system tracking the plate number and comparing where it was recorded. Thanks so much for the show. I've been a Patreon supporter since day one and truly love spending every Monday morning getting lost in the strangest So, if there are different situations where people are allowed to put the same license plate on different cars, then, yeah, that really could mess up systems of interconnected cameras. From what I found on the topic, speed cameras in general seem to be rather unpopular and controversial in the U.S., and several states have laws restricting or even prohibiting their use. Speed cameras in general seem to be rather unpopular and controversial in the U.S., and several states have laws restricting or even prohibiting their use.

Only 12 states and the District of Columbia currently have at least one speed camera in operation. Interestingly, red light cameras that catch those who drive through red lights are somewhat more accepted, and 22 states plus D.C. currently have at least one of those. But that's perhaps a whole different topic. Thanks so much to everyone who writes to us. I'm always sorry that I can't read everyone's emails on the show, but we do appreciate getting them. So if you have any questions, comments, or follow-ups for us,

please send them to podcast at futilitycloset.com. podcast at futilitycloset.com. It's Greg's turn to try to solve a lateral thinking puzzle. I'm going to give him a strange situation, and he has to work out what's going on asking yes or no questions. A doctor distributes a book that he hopes will benefit others. However, most of the copies of the book are deliberately destroyed, also with the intent of benefiting others. Why? Okay. Is this true? I guess it is. Yes. Were the people who destroyed the book doing it in order to—well, I guess you said that. In other words, did the book contain bad information that would have been harmful if people had followed it? No.

No? Because that's the obvious answer. Yeah. Okay. So did it contain good advice, good medical advice? Yes. Really? So, okay, the doctor in good faith published a book that he thought would help people, and he was right about that.

Yes. Yes and no. He gave medical advice in the book. No? Let's say yes, broadly speaking, very broadly defined. You say he was a doctor. I'm assuming he was a doctor. The book is about medicine or about...

The book isn't really about medicine. So is the fact that he was a doctor incidental, would you say? No. Okay. Was it like a biography or something, something about him? No, no. But he was publishing this book. Did he use his credentials or knowledge as a doctor

in order to help write the book? Yes. Okay, and then published that. Yes. Hoping it would help people. Maybe that's enough. But the people, is it one person in particular who had the book destroyed?

No. A group of people? Yes. The government, would you say? Was it ordered to be destroyed by the justice system or something? No. Okay, so some group of people The government, would you say? Was it ordered to be destroyed by the justice system or something? Um, no. Okay.

Some group of people thought that the book was pernicious or dangerous and somehow. Yes. So they thought if people followed this advice, I guess I just asked you this, then they'd come to harm somebody. That is not correct. It wasn't the advice in the book that was the concern. Was it something about the physical book itself? Yes. the book that was the concern was it the something about the physical book itself yes like i'm making this up but like the ink or something in it would harm people yes was it the ink no um what else do you make a book out of the paper itself um glue the binding yeah it's something specific to this book and it's related to the topic and

the reason he published oh so he deliberately published this interesting sort of novelty book it's not a conventional book you're saying it's not a conventional book and it was published according to his expectations in other words if it was about i'm making this up perfumes or something and he he published it knowing and intending that it would contain samples of perfume. Right. Something like that. That's a very good analogy. It's like that type of thing.

Is it about diseases? It's not about diseases. He's hoping this book will benefit others. But others who read it, though. Yes. Not do something else. And is it about a medical condition, would you say? No, it's not about a medical condition.

At all. It's more like perfumes. Like, why would a doctor, being a doctor, want to publish a book about perfumes, hoping it's going to benefit others, but then other people destroy it also with the intent of benefiting others? I mean, if you just go with your perfume example, I'll tell you specifically it's about wallpaper. Oh, a doctor publishes a book about wallpaper. Yeah. So it's not, the fact that he's a doctor is sort of not important. No, it is important. Okay. He publishes a book about wallpaper. Is it about the dangers of

wallpaper? Yes. Medical dangers of wallpaper. Yes. Did it include samples of wallpaper? Yes. And those were actually dangerous to people. Yes, that's exactly right. This was an 1874 book compiled by Michigan physician Robert C. Kedzie and was filled with samples of wallpaper that contained arsenic. Oh, my God. He put samples in the books along with case studies of poisonings from wallpaper and a warning from the Michigan State Board of Health and then distributed them to libraries around the state.

It was estimated that between 1879 and 1883, more than half of all wallpaper sold in the U.S. contained arsenic, which can be toxic if consumed, but unfortunately, Kedzie didn't realize this, also if it's inhaled or absorbed through the skin. I was going to say, why would you do that if you thought it was dangerous? So because of that risk, most of the copies of his book were ultimately destroyed, though it said that before that happened, one of the books did poison a woman who looked through it. Four copies of his book still exist today, very safely encapsulated with each page, individually encapsulated, and the National Library of Medicine has digitized a copy,

which is available online as a safer way to be able to see it if anyone wants to. That's awful because presumably the woman who bought it bought it because she was worried about the dangers of wallpaper and it wound up killing her. Yeah, yeah. So, I mean, he published the book intending to help people and not realizing he could poison people with the book itself. What a story.

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