Legal Affairs

November|December 2004

Wreckers

J.M.W. TURNER, ENGLAND'S MOST FAMOUS LANDSCAPE PAINTER, distinguished himself by painting ghostly expressions that rely on light and color more than on line and form. Working primarily in the 19th century, he was also set apart by his eccentricities. Turner had no close friends, he always traveled alone, and, as he gained prominence, he refused to sell the hundreds of paintings that he had made. And a third of them are not landscapes but seascapes, many depicting storms and disasters. Turner lashed himself to masts in order to witness the fury of storms at sea, and he was fascinated by shipwrecks.

On cloudy nights, audacious country denizens held lights above England's cliffs to mimic the safety beacons of lighthouses and draw ships onto the rocks. In Wreckers, first exhibited in 1834 when Turner was 59, the sea and sky blend together in a haze that's characteristic of his later paintings. The wreckers hauling in salvage nets look like fishermen at first glance, but closer inspection reveals the traces of a shipwreck. The disorientation is fitting because, startling as it now seems, wrecking was practiced not by rogues or villains but by unremarkable locals.

It's possible the wreckers thought they deserved a share from the thriving maritime economy but, if so, some had a rather ruthless sense of entitlement. Many were said to view wreck survivors as competitors, refusing them help lest they live to secure a superior claim to the plunder. To encourage locals to assist foundering ships, salvage laws promised a cut of the cargo or a generous reward to anyone who did.

Maritime custom and American law have joined together to ensure that the good Samaritan tradition continues. But opportunists still offer the false promise of rescue in order to bilk the seafaring. Recently Paul Canavan, the captain of the 120-foot yacht La Bella 2, steered his vessel onto a sandbar off Florida's south coast after the boat began taking on water. In an instant, a towing company arrived and offered to fix the problem and pull the boat off the shoal. Canavan accepted. The owner of the La Bella 2 offered the men $15,000 for their efforts, but the towing company is suing for $1 million. They weren't helping a crippled sailor, they contend, but salvaging a wreck. The court must now adjudicate the treacherous distinction between saving and salvaging, 170 years after Turner explored it.

—THE EDITORS



					November\|December 2004 Wreckers J.M.W. TURNER, ENGLAND'S MOST FAMOUS LANDSCAPE PAINTER, distinguished himself by painting ghostly expressions that rely on light and color more than on line and form. Working primarily in the 19th century, he was also set apart by his eccentricities. Turner had no close friends, he always traveled alone, and, as he gained prominence, he refused to sell the hundreds of paintings that he had made. And a third of them are not landscapes but seascapes, many depicting storms and disasters. Turner lashed himself to masts in order to witness the fury of storms at sea, and he was fascinated by shipwrecks. On cloudy nights, audacious country denizens held lights above England's cliffs to mimic the safety beacons of lighthouses and draw ships onto the rocks. In Wreckers, first exhibited in 1834 when Turner was 59, the sea and sky blend together in a haze that's characteristic of his later paintings. The wreckers hauling in salvage nets look like fishermen at first glance, but closer inspection reveals the traces of a shipwreck. The disorientation is fitting because, startling as it now seems, wrecking was practiced not by rogues or villains but by unremarkable locals. It's possible the wreckers thought they deserved a share from the thriving maritime economy but, if so, some had a rather ruthless sense of entitlement. Many were said to view wreck survivors as competitors, refusing them help lest they live to secure a superior claim to the plunder. To encourage locals to assist foundering ships, salvage laws promised a cut of the cargo or a generous reward to anyone who did. Maritime custom and American law have joined together to ensure that the good Samaritan tradition continues. But opportunists still offer the false promise of rescue in order to bilk the seafaring. Recently Paul Canavan, the captain of the 120-foot yacht La Bella 2, steered his vessel onto a sandbar off Florida's south coast after the boat began taking on water. In an instant, a towing company arrived and offered to fix the problem and pull the boat off the shoal. Canavan accepted. The owner of the La Bella 2 offered the men $15,000 for their efforts, but the towing company is suing for $1 million. They weren't helping a crippled sailor, they contend, but salvaging a wreck. The court must now adjudicate the treacherous distinction between saving and salvaging, 170 years after Turner explored it. —THE EDITORS