Manatees and Perhaps Something More…

In 1492, when Columbus sailed the ocean blue and lookouts were alert and searching uncharted waters, strange creatures began to appear and swim alongside sailing ships.

After Columbus sighted land and discovered the new world, he reported the sighting of three mermaids on January 4, 1493. “Mermaids rose high out of the sea,” he recorded, “But were not as beautiful as they are represented.”

On June 15, 1608, English captain and navigator Henry Hudson was searching the Arctic Circle for a new route to Asia when he wrote the following entry in his ship’s log:

“This morning, one of our company looking overboard saw a mermaid and calling up some of the crew to see her, one more came up. At that time, she was very close to the ship’s side and was looking earnestly upward at the men who were watching. Soon afterward, a heavy wave came and overturned her. From the navel upward, her back and breasts were like a woman. She was the size of a fair maiden and her wet hair was black. When she finally dove under the sea, the men saw her tail, which was like the tail of a large fish and speckled like a mackerel.”

During the 1860’s, Victorian biologist P.H. Grosse proclaimed that with the expertise of Henry Hudson and his veteran crews, there could be no mistaking a walrus or seal for a mermaid and therefore announced there very well might be a previously undiscovered and new zoological species. 

In the present day, we, of course, believe that mermaids are fictitious creatures of salty and fertile imaginations…or was there once upon a time another answer?

When Juan Ponce Deleon discovered the Dry Tortugas in 1513 and later cruised northward into the Ten Thousand Islands and discovered Marco and the Calusa Indians, he and his crew might have sighted a manatee on a moonlit night and believed they saw a mermaid.

Manatees have always surfaced alongside the legend of mermaids, possibly because the official animal-order name of a manatee is Sirenia. The song of the siren continuously offers high notes throughout history and even reaches into the heartland of Germany. Near Coblenz, where the Rhine River flows through vineyard-covered mountains and castles guard every bend in the watercourse, the Lorelei rock awaits where a centuries old legend tells of an enchantress who sings a song so sweet she lures river sailors into destruction at the base of well-known cliffs.

Charmed with the folklore and fables of old Europe, the storm-seasoned sailors arriving in the new world were instantly ready to explain any phenomenon that might have made an appearance. Manatees sighted in daylight hours were mermen as they were muddy, heavy creatures with whiskers. On a night with moonlight, however, a manatee might have come calling and a lonely sailor on anchor watch could have told tales about a beautiful mermaid that came out only after midnight and only during a full moon.

One of the most compelling and unforgettable accounts of mermaid legacy comes from an old story originating in the Outer Hebrides. In 1870, after a severe ocean storm, seaweed cutters on the shore were attracted to a splashing in the nearby waters and found a small mermaid playing in the surf. Several townsfolk tried to capture her, but she swam too fast for a net. Just before she submerged for the final time, the town bully threw a rock and hit her on the back of the head. The following day, her body washed up, and upon close inspection, everyone agreed this was a true mermaid. She had the body of a young woman with well-developed breasts, but below the waist she had scales and a tail like a fish. By order of the town officials, she was given a Christian burial as she was considered too human not to.

As sailors have forever been attracted to anomalies in the water, and as any unusual and exotic creatures are always alluring, there can be little doubt that the shallow waters habits of our own Southwest Florida manatees could tempt mariners onto treacherous sandbars. Whenever the mariners of old ran aground and found destruction in a storm, mermaids were perhaps easy to blame.

On almost any occasion, children will ask the most direct and amazing questions, and on rare occasions, parents will have equally incredible answers, especially on Mother’s Day. 

“Are mermaids real?” Five-year-old Mia from England recently asked on a sailing excursion.

“They’re as real as you want them to be.” Her mother replied with a soft London accent.

 “But mommy, I want them to be real,” Mia insisted.

 “The next time we stroll on the beach,” Mommy suggested, “We’ll look for their toenails. Mermaids’ toenails can sometimes be found on the shore.”

 “But that’s silly, mommy,” Mia was not to be hoodwinked. “Mermaids don’t have toenails. They do not have feet. They have a tail like a fish.”

“That’s what’s special,” Mommy smiled knowingly. “Mermaids don’t start out as mermaids, they start out as little girls, but only little girls that have pink toenail varnish.”

“But mommy,” Mia protested, “I have pink toenail varnish! Can I turn into a mermaid?”

“That can only happen when little girls with pink toenails stay in the water too long and love the sea too much. When that happens their feet and legs turn into a fishtail, and their pink toenails come off and wash up on the beach.”

“Look,” Mommy insisted as she produced a bright pink seashell. “I found one this morning!”

“Is that really a mermaid toenail?” Mia asked in awe.

“It is if you want it to be, besides, where would mermaids live if not around Marco Island?”