On August 6, 1848, Her Majesty's ship Dedalus, under the command of Captain Peter Macaway, was returning from East India and was in the South Atlantic, somewhere between the Cape of Good Hope and Saint Helena. A fresh breeze was blowing, the ship was sailing almost under full sails and must have been a delightful sight. And those who were on board, probably, least of all thought about some kind of monsters, which, as it was believed, can be found either off the Norwegian coast or in the harbors of the gullible Yankees. Or rather, on newspaper pages.
However, this is what the archives of the Admiralty say: “Sir, in response to your letter today demanding that you provide confirmation of the veracity of my statement, published in the Times, concerning a sea serpent of extraordinary size, seen from Her Majesty's Dedalus - under my command at time of transition from the East Indies, I have the honor to inform you for the information of my lords commissars of the Admiralty, that at five o'clock in the afternoon on August 6, at 24'44 'south latitude and 9'22' east longitude, in cloudy and cloudy weather, fresh north-west wind and considerable commotion from the south-west as the ship was sailing on port tack to the north-north-east, the ship's midshipman Mr. Sartoris noticed something very unusual. This something was quickly approaching the ship, being abeam. This circumstance was immediately reported to the officer of the watch, Lieutenant Drummond, who was just strolling through the quarterdeck with me and the skipper, Mr. Barrett. The ship's crew was having supper.
When our attention was drawn to the subject, we discovered that it was a gigantic serpent, with its heads holding its neck 4 feet above the sea surface. And as far as we could estimate the length of its body by comparison with our mainsail, it was in no way less than 60 feet. And none of the parts of this body, as we could see, did not serve the animal for movement in the water, because it did not make any vibrations either in the vertical or in the horizontal plane. The animal swam quickly past us, but so close to our leeward side that it was not difficult for a person of my knowledge and experience to discern its features. Neither on the approach to the ship, nor after crossing our wake, the animal never deviated from the south-west course, which it followed at a speed of 12-15 miles per hour and, obviously, was heading towards a target known to it.
The diameter of the snake behind the head was 15-16 inches, and the head was undoubtedly a snake. During the 20 minutes that we watched the animal through a telescope, it never sank into water. It was dark brown in color, and yellowish-white at the throat. He had no fins, but there was something like a horse's mane, or rather a growth of seaweed, which rinsed along the ridge. He was seen by the midshipman, the boatswain's mate and the helmsman, as well as the aforementioned officers."
This letter was addressed to Admiral Gage; it became public very soon. Under the supervision of Captain McWay, the artist of the Illustrated London News made several drawings, which most readers of the magazine perceived as the first true image of the unknown monster. Passions ran high when several zoologists, who had spent fewer hours at sea than the captain and the admiral had spent in days, tried to question the sailor's story.
The instigator of the criticism was a very knowledgeable, but already elderly and rather chatty professor Richard Owen. The dispute ended in a draw. The captain refused to admit that he did not see what he saw, and the professor did not admit that the sailor could see what he saw. However, an indirect result of the dispute was the publication of numerous stories about earlier observations. Until that time, eyewitnesses preferred to be silent so as not to be exposed to ridicule.
Promotional video:
