The fishing between the islands offshore of one particular spot on the Norwegian coastline was especially good, but of all the fisherman in the area, only two brothers ever dared to fish there. For twice every day between the islands and the shore, a horrendous whirlpool some half-mile in diameter would form and suck down every object or living thing that came within several miles of it. People called it “The Great Maelstrom.”
One day these two brothers, sure of perfect weather, set sail to the islands, enjoyed a marvelous catch, and then headed home well before the pool was to form. Suddenly, however, the winds changed, standing them. Before they could row back to the islands a hurricane wind was upon them, tossing them wildly about and snapping their mainsail’s mast.
The younger brother clung to a ring bolt at the front of the boat and the elder brother grabbed an empty barrel that was lashed to the back. They rode this way for some time. Suddenly, as they crested a wave, they saw that their tiny boat was heading straight toward the forming pool. In his terror the elder brother at the back lunged and forced the ring bolt from his brother’s hand. This brother did not contest the other’s fear but went to the back and held on to the water cask.
Finally the inevitable moment came and the tiny ship careened into the whirlpool. The younger brother closed his eyes, said a prayer, and waited for certain death. After a moment however, when death hadn’t come, he opened his eyes to find that the boat had not fallen into the abyss but was hanging on the edge of the pool, riding around and around, going slowly down.
Looking up at the sides of the pool and knowing now that death was inevitable, his fear all but left him. He began to notice with fascination that there were many other objects in the pool - trees, boats, furniture. He began to take interest in the differing speeds with which the objects fell and finally plunged into the swirl. As he watched, a stunning realization was forming in his mind: the lighter, cylindrical objects fell more slowly, while the heavier objects dropped more quickly into the abyss.
This realization set his heart pounding and his mind to racing. He knew that their only hope of surviving was to lash themselves to the empty water cask and throw themselves out of the boat. He motioned to his brother and, using hand signals, explained his plan. But his brother dropped his head and gripped the ring ever harder, choosing the familiarity of his boat over the uncertainty of the waters. At last, resigning him to his fate, the younger brother cut free the water cask, lashed himself to it, and jumped into the cold black wall of the pool.
It was just as he had hoped. His barrel sank but little more while the small boat went steadily down and finally hurtled his poor brother to his death. Soon the pool began to change. The whirl began to slow and the bottom to rise up. It wasn’t long before he found himself again on the surface of the water with the shores of his home in sight.
He was picked up early the next morning by fishermen from his own village. But the fishermen knew him not. For when he had left that morning, his hair had been as black as a raven. When they hauled him in, it was as white as snow.
[from Doorways to the Soul: 52 Wisdom Tales from Around the World, ed. by Elisa Davy Pearman. ISBN: 0-8298-1286-5, p. 77. This story is adapted from “Descent into the Maelstrom” by Edgar Allan Poe. I have enjoyed this book and recommend it for those seeking preaching stories. You can visit the author's website here: http://www.wisdomtales.com/]
