Lesson 18: The Edmund Fitzgerald

Amy Timko, Kyle Slater and Zephyrus Fry sat at a table in a secluded corner of the Hogwarts library. Kyle shut 'Ancient Amulets: A Survival Guide' and pushed the large, heavy book to one side before reaching for another. "No mention of the Adze in that one either," he said, reaching for one of the few unsearched tomes left on the table. "Let's see if 'Bewitched Antiquity' has anything."

Amy closed the book she was reading and picked up two of the other discarded books as well. The small group had spent hours combing through both newer reference books and old, musty tomes. So far, not one of them had even mentioned the artifact their History of Magic teacher had sent to his friend in Siberia. How were they going to figure out what was going on if they couldn't even figure out what was what the Adze of Thoth was? "I'll re-shelve these and see if I can find anything else that might reference the--"

"Hold on, Amy. I think I found it." Zephyrus stared intently down at the book in front of him, flipped the page, and then his face lit up.

Kyle was out of his seat in an instant. Leaning over the book, he whistled quietly. "You did it, Zeph. Look at that thing."

Amy dropped the books she was holding onto her chair and leaned over the table. The picture showed an old, woodworker's hand tool. It looked as if a flat stone blade had been tied to the end of an ordinary ax handle. But even though the picture was small, and she was looking at it upside down, there was no mistaking the ibis emblem of Thoth etched into the tool's side. "What's it say, Zeph? I can't read upside down."

Zephyrus ran his hand through his dark hair, as he did whenever he was nervous or excited. "It says, 'According to legend, in the aftermath of the Ancient Egyptian Wizarding War, Thoth and a group of his followers were attempting to locate a band of Seth's fighters. The magic-locating spells used by Thoth lit up the entire canyon. The supporters of Seth had used spells to hide the entrance to their base and then had cast layer-upon-layer of spells over the surrounding area, rendering magic-locating spells useless. Thoth asked his followers to find something he could enchant into a tool to unweave the chaotic magic flooding the canyon. A discarded Muggle woodworking tool was found. Thoth bespelled the adze and, using it, they found the hidden entrance and dealt with the vicious followers of Seth within.'"

"Ooooo. That is interesting. Does it say anything else? Amy asked.

"Not much. It does mention that the current location of the Adze is unknown. The last known use of the Adze of Thoth was in 1312 by the Knights Hospitaller, leading to their victory over the Turkish fleet in the Cyclades." Zephyrus looked up at the other two in confusion.

"Don't look at me," Kyle protested. "I didn't even know hospitals had knights."

. . .

Montgomery Vance stood before the windows of his History of Magic classroom. It was May, and Spring had, finally, truly come to Hogwarts. His thoughts, however, were miles away. He had begun to accept the mixed feelings that came with teaching. On the one hand, he enjoyed teaching even more than he had thought he would. But it was difficult to know that his old colleagues were facing dangers, learning secrets and solving mysteries without him. He felt as if he ought to be there with them. It wasn't his own ego, simply recorded fact: fewer of them tended to die when he was around.

"Go not forth, O Hiawatha!
To the kingdom of the West-Wind,
To the realms of Mudjekeewis,
Lest he harm you with his magic,
Lest he kill you with his cunning!"

"Who's Mudjekeewis?" Zephyrus asked, "Is he the one laying down all the magic in Siberia?"

"What? Mudjekeewis? Siberia? No." Gummy stammered. The students were nearly all in their seats. Already. He must have been lost in thought longer than he realized. "Mudjekeewis has nothing to do with Siberia, but I'm guessing you--" Gummy glanced around and saw two other sets of eyes intently on him, keenly interested in the conversation. "--and your friends have been doing some rather interesting research. Good. Good." Gummy gestured for Zephyrus to take his seat. "Mudjekeewis is a character in The Song of Hiawatha by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. It's an excellent poem with beautiful language and imagery. But today, we are talking about the Edmund Fitzgerald which was shipwrecked in Gitche Gumee, as Longfellow called it, or as most people call it, Lake Superior."

Professor Vance pulled a small roundish rock from his pocket and placed the mottled grey and dark red ball on his desk. With a tap of his wand, the air above the little, spherical rock flickered twice and an image formed.

"This is the Edmund Fitzgerald. The Fitz, as she has been nicknamed, first sailed in 1958. She was 39 feet high, 75 feet wide, and 729 feet long. That's a pretty big ship by any standards. Although she could carry other raw materials such as salt and grain, this long, wide, flat ship was primarily built to haul iron ore, like the little rock on my desk, from mines in Minnesota to steel mills in Detroit. The Fitz had a number of other nicknames during the years she sailed. Some called her 'The Toledo Express'. Others referred to her as 'The Queen of The Great Lakes'. Her most unfortunate, although perhaps most apt, nickname was 'Titanic of The Great Lakes'." Gummy tapped the rock again, and this time a map flickered into existence about the little piece of iron ore.

'On November 10, 1975, the Edmund Fitzgerald sank to the bottom of Lake Superior, taking all 39 crew members with her." A hand instantly shot up in the third row and Gummy nodded, granting the student permission to speak.

"A ship that big sank in a lake? Even the Giant Squid would have a hard time dragging something that big down," a dark-eyed Gryffindor asked incredulously.

"Ah, yes, well, The Great Lakes are really big. I suppose I should back up just briefly to explain the size of the lake we're discussing today. The map you see flickering in the air above my desk is Lake Superior. It's just one of the Great Lakes in North America. There are a total of five Great Lakes which are interconnected. As you can see from the map, the northern edge of Lake Superior, and that of the other Great Lakes as well, runs along the Canadian border, and the southern edge is along the U.S. border. Lake Superior is the northern most of the five lakes and it's about the size of Austria. In fact, if all the water was drained from Lake Superior, it would cover the entire land mass of both North and South America in a foot of water. All the Great Lakes are big enough to have real waves. Lake Superior regularly has 20 foot waves. 30 foot waves have been recorded during storms, so even a mammoth ship like the Edmund Fitzgerald could find a storm on Lake Superior rather challenging." As he had been describing just how large Lake Superior was, the expression on the Gryffindor's face changed from skeptical to surprise to wide-eyed shock. Professor Vance couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"Exactly. On a lake that big, a monster storm doesn't need the assistance of a magical creature to take down almost anything Muggles can build." The professor assumed his customary stance for lecture time. With his arms crossed comfortably against his broad chest, he leaned against the desk, his long legs stretched out before him. Just as he was about to continue, he noticed Kyle Slater whispering to Amy Timko. Gummy sighed. From the avid look on Kyle's face, he knew where this was going. Might as well address it head-on,he thought. "Mr. Slater, why don't you tell us what you've heard about the Edmund Fitzgerald."

Kyle looked abashed at being caught whispering in class. It lasted for about two milliseconds before he eagerly launched into what the Muggle-born Ravenclaw had doubtlessly learned from TV. "There was this mysteriously-huge storm. I'm talking suspiciously-huge, you know? Anyway, the Edmund Fitzgerald was in radio contact with another ship for most of the evening. In their last transmission, the captain said that they were taking on a little water, but were 'holding their own'. That's a quote, by the way. Then, suddenly, they disappeared from radar and radio contact and were never seen again. No distress call went out. Not a single body was ever found. It's obvious why, of course. I mean, put the pieces together. An unusual storm, sudden disappearance with no distress call, and every single person missing without a trace: aliens!"

Kyle's enthusiasm was actually kind of endearing. Gummy smiled and said, as gently as he could, "Sorry, Kyle. No aliens this time, either. It was November, which is a bad month for storms on the Great Lakes. No aliens and no magic were involved in the storm. The Edmund Fitzgerald was stressed beyond what it could take. The wind and waves applied a torque or twisting force that ripped the ship apart. The front half sat right-side-up on the bottom of the lake. About 170 feet of debris separated it from the rear-half of the ship which lay upside-down." Gummy tapped the chunk of iron ore one more time and the map was replaced by an image of the beaten, broken Edmund Fitzgerald as he had described it, deep below the waves.

"And that brings us to where magic comes into play. As Kyle mentioned, not a single body was ever found. But they weren't beamed off the ship by aliens or apparated off by Maritime Rescue Wizards. No. Unfortunately, they sank with their ship. Lake Superior has a reputation for holding on to the bodies of those who drown in her. It's rather simple, really. The deep lake water never gets above 39 degrees Fahrenheit, so the bacteria that normally feed on a drowned body never get to multiply. And it's the gas formed by that bacteria that makes drowned bodies float. In short, the lake stays too cold for the bodies of the lost to ever surface and wash ashore. But why is it always so cold?" Gummy paused for effect and tried to utter his next word with the same degree of passion as Kyle had used earlier, but instead of "aliens", Gummy said, "Magic!"

There were some giggles from students and Gummy's rich chuckle joined them before he continued, "Many, many years ago, before any European had set foot on the shores of Lake Superior, when it was still known as Ojibwe Gichigami, or Ojibwe's Great Sea, there lived a witch by the name of Ishkoodah. Ishkoodah was a very strong Legilimens. She could seek truth in a person's mind as easily as you or I could scan through a copy of the Daily Prophet. She watched a young man named Adjidaumo grow to adulthood within the tribe. She could always sense darkness within him. The Ojibwe people loved him because he was handsome and seemed to do things to help people, but Adjidaumo always had hidden motives that only Ishkoodah could discern. You see, Adjidaumo wanted to lead the tribe, but the tribe had a chief and the chief had two sons who had inherited the wisdom and strength of their father. Ishkoodah knew that Adjidaumo was adored and people thought he could do no wrong, so she kept silent and spoke to no one of the dark motives of the young man.

"Eventually, however, the situation became dire. Adjidaumo had just returned from a scouting mission. He said that he had seen excellent game in an unusual location. He proposed they quickly form a hunting party that included the chief and both his sons. Ishkoodah looked into his mind and saw that he had made a deal with members of another tribe with whom his people had battled for generations. The hunting party was a trap! Adjidaumo was planning to hand all of them over to their enemies! What was Ishkoodah to do? No one would believe her, but lives were in danger and the good of the tribe was in jeopardy. So regretfully, Ishkoodah waited until Adjidaumo was alone, and then she invaded his mind so forcefully that the treacherous young man fainted from the attack. The witch then used her magic to bind him and take his life. But what to do with the body? That's always a problem when it comes to murder, isn't it?" Gummy asked wryly. He glanced at the clock. As usual, he was running out of time.

"Ishkoodah used her magic to move the body out onto the deep lake near what is now known as Whitefish Point. She removed a cowry shell pendant from around her neck, cast a chilling spell upon it, and then bound the enchanted pendant to Adjidaumo's corpse. 'You acted with such coldness in life that you deserve no warmth in death,' Ishkoodah said as she watched Adjidaumo's remains sink into the lake. The pendant is still down there, still refusing to let the Ojibwe Gichigami warm above 39 degrees. And that is why Lake Superior is so unwilling to give up the bodies of its dead: Ishkoodah's magic is still at work, keeping the waters icy cold."

As if on cue, the bell rang. Class had come to an end. "Homework assignments are on the desk by the door. Pick one up as you leave, please. If you have any questions, owl me or invade my office or shout questions to me over breakfast. I'll be around."