An engraving published in the Illustrated London News (1896) of a ship battered by a violent storm / Robert Neff Collection

For many, sea travel is viewed as a romantic adventure, but in the 19th century it was a necessary evil, filled with danger and uncertainty. This was especially true in August 1889, when the waters around the Korean Peninsula, Japan and China were plagued by a series of powerful storms.

Off the coast of Japan, one steamship captain reported passing "through large quantities of pine trees and bamboos, the former broken off midway and both torn up with roots, with leaves quite green, and a vast quantity of wreckage and deeply discoloured water" extended nearly 50 kilometers out to sea.

He was fortunate, as there were many nearby ports where he could find sanctuary. However, other steamships were not as fortunate and were forced to plow through the storm or seek safety in small sheltered coves — many of these steamers were damaged.

Smaller fishing boats and junks were truly at the mercy of the sea, and many did not survive their encounters with Mother Nature's fury. The regional newspapers reported numerous accounts of these lost vessels. One steamship had several encounters with victims of the storm. At dawn, it rescued five Chinese fishers from a waterlogged fishing boat and then, a couple of hours later, rescued another man clinging to the rudder of a wrecked junk — he was the only survivor of that junk's crew. Later in that afternoon, the steamship encountered another "large water-logged junk, with no one on board." Apparently, they had been swept away by the "heavy rains and unsettled weather." Other steamships reported similar encounters. Sometimes, sailors were rescued from floating debris, but more often than not, the half-sunken ships were devoid of any survivors.

Korean ships in the late 19th century / Robert Neff Collection

In the West Sea, not all of these hapless craft were Chinese. On Aug. 29, a very small Korean junk was discovered drifting helplessly off the Shandong Peninsula of China. Surprisingly, despite its wrecked appearance, the entire seven-man crew had survived the storm and was rescued by the Chinese authorities.

Earlier that month, the Korean vessel had departed Jemulpo (modern Incheon) with a cargo of foreign goods and was bound for Pyongyang — its home port. Sailors in the 19th century (and even now), regardless of their nationality, tended to be superstitious. Korean sailors considered it unlucky to begin their journey on the first day of the month or any day with an eight (8, 18 and 28). Unlike Western sailors, who were fond of having dogs aboard their ships, the Korean sailors viewed canines as being especially evil portents and took great care to ensure their ships were dog-free. If a dog inadvertently wandered onto a ship, it was immediately sacrificed to the spirits. Women were also shunned and discouraged from taking part in the ceremonies and sacrifices made by the crew as part of their supplication for a safe voyage.

Shortly after the Korean junk departed Jemulpo, it encountered a typhoon, which dismasted the ship and "left it at the mercy of the wind and waves." One can easily imagine that further prayers and sacrifices were made, but Mother Nature was placated.

Swamped and in danger of sinking, the crew was forced to jettison about half of the cargo in a successful effort to save their ship. Over the next couple of days the ship drifted closer to the Chinese coast and was subsequently rescued.

A Chinese junk in the late 19th century / Robert Neff Collection

Once safely ashore, the ship was determined to be too small and frail to attempt to re-cross the West Sea and so, with the captain's approval, it and its "greatly damaged cargo" were sold. The cargo consisted of "26 slabs of old iron, 250 packages of matches, 3 bales of foreign cloth, 31 pieces of tin, two cases of foreign colouring material, 11 reams of paper, and sundry other articles." The money was then divided up among the crew.

In the past, shipwrecked Korean crews were often repatriated home by an arduous and time-consuming overland trip — often, the return home was more dangerous and difficult than the initial shipwreck, and many did not survive. Now, however, the men were placed aboard one of the steamships sailing to Jemulpo and arrived safely — and in relative comfort — about 36 hours later.

This series of storms also claimed ships in the East Sea. One of these ships was the small steam launch Belle of Hope. On Aug. 17, the newly built two-masted, 13-meter-long ship departed Nagasaki, Japan, in fair weather and with great expectation — its final destination was Vladivostok, Russia, where it would be turned over to a Russian company that had commissioned the ship. In command of the ship was Captain Franz Meyer, a 56-year-old German with years of sailing experience in Northeast Asia, and he was assisted by six Japanese sailors.

Shortly after departing Nagasaki, the Belle of Hope encountered a storm. Meyer was not worried and carefully threaded his way along the Japanese coast and eventually arrived at Fusan (modern Busan) where the ship was resupplied with coal. Despite the bad weather, Meyer proceeded along the south-eastern part of the Korean Peninsula. His overconfidence was no match for the storm.

The British warship HMS Bedford is grounded near Jeju Island in August 1910. / Robert Neff Collection

On the night of Aug. 24, just north of Pohang, the ship's cabin was destroyed, and the fire in the boilers was extinguished by the terrific pounding of the waves. There was no choice but to abandon ship.

Up until the late 19th century, Korea had an undeserved reputation as being hostile to shipwrecked survivors. In truth, those cast upon the Korean coast often fared much better than those who had the misfortune of being washed ashore in Japan or China. Koreans generally provided assistance to survivors and even helped gather and protect their unfortunate vessel's cargo. The survivors were usually repatriated through China, and they spoke highly of their Korean rescuers' generous hospitality while denigrating the conduct of their subsequent Chinese hosts.

However, Captain Meyer and his crew were the exception. Instead of being provided with shelter and food, they found themselves competing with the nearby villagers to salvage what they could from the ship. The villagers, according to Meyer, "stole everything they possibly could."

The shipwrecked men were forced to barter part of the cargo for food, and more powerful than the storm was the animosity the villagers had for the Japanese sailors. Eventually, four of the Japanese sailors deserted Meyer — their fate is unknown but if they did make their way overland to Fusan, it was not an easy task as Japanese travelers were often attacked while traveling in the interior.

Judging by various accounts, Korean villagers were famed for their accuracy with stones and frequently pelted strangers and opponents with stones. For several days, stones rained down upon Meyer and the remaining crewmembers as the Korean villagers tried to steal the rest of the salvaged goods from the Belle of Hope. "It was useless attempting to prevent them," declared Meyer.

Although the men aboard the Belle of Hope "lost the whole of their private effects and clothing, except what was worn at the time of the stranding," all were eventually able to find passage on a steamship back to Nagasaki. Like the sea, Korean hospitality proved to be fickle.

My appreciation to Diane Nars for her invaluable assistance.

Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.