One unrecognized stowaway on the packet ship Emerald Isle in 1868 was my paternal DNA. It was actually contained in the biological structure of my Great Grandfather Thomas Ogden, (with a backup in his father William). Of course neither of them had any knowledge of DNA strands or markers or even genetics in general. My genetic blueprint was just along for a free ride. But this particular voyage, according to written records and journals, was miserable and very deadly due to contaminated water, inadequate supplies, and a poorly disciplined crew. At one point when a crew member attacked a female passenger, he was yanked away by the scruff of his shirt by a rather larger Scandinavian saint. The surrounding crew immediately rallied to their shipmate’s defense and tension between crew and passengers escalated to the level of a British soccer match. The leader of the saints intervened and pointed to the Captain of the ship reminding him of prior agreements that had been made as well as rules of common decency. To make the point complete, he patiently explained that the Scandinavian men on board would have no problem sailing the vessel and could probably do it better than the existing crew. The not-so-subtle message was quickly understood and civility restored.
Of course my DNA strand heard none of this because it had separated from the action and was hanging over the rail; green, and sick, and occasionally heaving up a few particles of genetic material into the Atlantic Ocean. To this day I am easily nauseated on any sea faring boat and it’s obvious that the source of this weakness was there on the Emerald Isle.
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