 The Cavalcade of America presented by Dupont, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Millions of American men and women who have labored and today labor still with hand and mind and heart to build and to preserve a great free nation. The Cavalcade of America proudly dedicates the unending story of a new way of life in a new world. The Cavalcade of America presents Pathfinder of the Seas, a radio drama of Matthew Fontaine-Mowry, written especially for this program. Our star from the Cavalcade players is Carl Swenson, who will play the part of Matthew Fontaine-Mowry. And Matthew's wife is Jeanette Nolan. Coachman Kenneth Delmar, Captain Jackson Ray Collins, the Secretary of the Navy John McIntyre, and Hubbard Edwin Jerome. Our orchestra and original musical score are under the direction of Don Voorhees. Dupont, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, present Pathfinder of the Seas on the Cavalcade of America. The Seas, the brooding and unfathomed waters, captive only to the flat earth, its limits unknown, its ways and moods beyond mortal comprehension, its very vastness upon the earth and eternal reminder of men's helplessness against the elements. Thus did primitive man look upon the most ancient of man's great fears, the sea. But the sea was to remain a symbol of terror in men's minds, even up to a bare century ago. And where primitive men had propitiated the sea with sacrifice, men of modern times cloaked their fear of it in a ritual, the ritual of the ringing of the lutein bell on the floor of Lloyds in 19th century London. Oh, Mr. Laughlin. Yes, sir? Have you the schedule of the Clipper Seagull? Yes, yes, I have. I was just looking them over, as a matter of fact. Isn't she overdue? More than a week, sir. But her owners still hope for the best. I shouldn't give much for my share of it today. You saw the reports from the North American hurricane. I see. Uh-huh. Looks like more bad news to Bellpost. Gentlemen, your attention. A report has just come of the Clipper ship Seagull. I wonder what happened. The Clipper Seagull, grounded on the rocks and shoals of New Fowler. Oh, I see that, too. Cargo and all hands lost. Excuse me. Schooner Daisy-Louise of Cape Horn reports how damage has stormed the car. Lutein bell on the floor of Lloyds, solemn recorder of the fate of ships of all nations. But as the years passed, the ringing of that bell was to take on a new meaning, for the ancient terror of the sea had gone from men's hearts. And only a few remembered that an historic change in man's fate had been brought by an accident. An accident on dry land to one man in Tennessee, one windy morning in the February of 1839. At the stage transfer on the main street of a Tennessee mountain town, a husky man in uniform with the insignia of a lieutenant in the U.S. Navy stands beside his young wife. Any northbound passengers? We are, Coachman. The two of us. Only one seat inside. Oh, then I'll ride top side with you, Coachman. I'll help you inside there. Wait. Turn up your collar, Matthew. Put that inside. Why, you look handsome enough to command a whole fleet. Alright, stand away now. You'll be an admiral in no time. I'm sure of this. Oh, nonsense. Sit here. I'll up with you there. Be careful now, dear. Here's a hand, Lutein. Hurry, we'll need his tears. Thank you, Coachman. Well, this is as trim as the quarter-deck of a frigate. Yeah, mighty rough sometimes. Get you up, you. They're only a bit close to the wind, aren't they? Yeah, but I can handle them. Look, watch her on the swell there, Captain. She's listening. Yeah, that's the baggage. Move that box back a bit if it bothers you. Keep slipping. There ain't better rain in those horses. I can't hold on much longer. Oh, there. Oh. Oh, I see. Whoa. Whoa. They're running away. Here, let me help you. No use. They got the fit in their teeth. You better jump. And promise me you'd keep off that leg today. You know the doctor said... Oh, fiddle sticks the doctor. I'm getting back my sea legs already. By darling, I could take over Commander that ship tomorrow if they'd only come through with the order. Oh, yes, Matthew, that reminds me. Something just came for you in the mail from the Navy Department. Oh, I'll read it to me, my dear. Of course, Matthew. I hope it's still the consulate. Oh, she's a fine ship, that. Why, if I had Commander... Oh, ain't. Don't tell me they're giving me that old tub of the Conqueror. Navy Department, Washington, D.C. Owing to a bodily accident, which renders him unfit for active duty at sea, Matthew Fontaine Maury, Lieutenant, United States Navy, is hereby transferred to shore duty. No. And is assigned to the Navy Observatory at Washington to be in charge of the depot of charts and instruments. Well, I just saw our new Lord and Master over at the Secretary's office. He lists a little to starboard. Limps to you landlubbers. Yeah. Feel sorry for the poor devil. Crippled in a stagecoach accident just as he was going to take his first command. He always was a queer one, though. Had some kind of theory about pathways in the sea. Yeah. There's an article right here in Edgar Allan Poe's magazine by Lieutenant Matthew Fontaine Maury, U.S.N. Listen to this. This is good. Take the little nautily, he says. Where do the fragile creatures go? What directing hand guides them from sea to sea? What breeze fills the violet sails of their frail little craft? And by whose skill is it unable to brave the sea and defy the fury of the gale? What's he driving? There's more of it. This little creature will perhaps afford a solution for a problem a long time unsolved, he says. For it may be the means of revealing the existence of the submarine currents that have carried off and of enabling scientists to trace out the secret paths of the sea. You can get those ideas out of his head if he stays in this office long. Yeah. There used to be a man here predicted a thunderstorm over the Chesapeake once. He got it out of the farmer's almanac. And this fellow thinks he can chop courses in mid-ocean that'll avoid storms and shipwrecks. I suppose if the boat rocks a little, that doesn't count. Well, this is the boneyard of the Navy. You know, always crippled or crazy. It looks like we're in for both this time. It's cold in here. Throw a couple more of those log books in the stove there, will you? Well, here's a good thick one. It's the log of the Red Raven. She was off her course for three months in the South Seas. She could only have found one of those pathways. Come off it there, fellows. I hear them coming up the hall now. Maybe we better look busy. Good morning, gentlemen. Good morning, Lieutenant Murray. Good morning, Lieutenant Murray. This is your desk here, sir. It's a little chilly here, so we left it next to the stove. Thank you. This is a little chilly just now. I'll put another log book on the fire, sir. Log book? Well, yes, sir. You see, we're a little short of wood this year. Let me see that book that you're about to burn. Oh, we only burn the old ones. Hand me that book. Of course, sir. Log of the Nancy Lee out of Salem in the China trade. Look. Look at the detail of this man's observations. The wind changes. The drift. It's all noted according to position and day by day. This book is worth a fortune in scientific data. How many of them have you burned? Why, we haven't kept count. There are thousands of them in the basement. Surely you don't mean to say that... I don't say anything. I just think, gentlemen, I state facts. You have destroyed scientific records. It'll take years to replace. Sorry. Now, these are hardly scientific records. Not scientific records. Here you have a treasure house of my newt observations by men who've sailed every square mile of the seas in good weather and bad. And what's worse, what's sinful, gentlemen? You burn them. If you don't mind my asking, sir, just what use do you think this material could be put to? I'll show you what use. I want every one of these log books brought to this office. We're going to mark every single one of these observations on charts. Then we're going to revise them and revise them again and collect more data like this until the map of the sea is not just a blue empty space, but a chart of currents and prevailing winds and tides shown as accurately as the rivers and mountains in maps of dry land. The sea isn't quite the same proposition as dry land, Lieutenant. The sea is part of the Earth, isn't it? About four-fifths of the Earth's surface, if I remember rightly. And there are laws governing the nature of everything we know on the Earth. We know the tides are governed by immutable laws. There must be other laws governing the sea. And we have the means of finding out what those laws are. But how will you ever be sure? We'll put them to the test, Mr. Hubbard. We'll get men to sail by our charts. And if they're right, ocean voyages will be as safe and sure as rowing across the Potomac. Mr. Jackson! Alright! Mr. Jackson! Good day, Mr. Maury. Good to see you again. Must say you're prompt, meeting up with me right here at the gang-blank. You have a good voyage, sir. Good's no word for it. The best voyage the whirlwind ever made. You followed my charts? To the letter. All the way around the horn to San Francisco. Your log, Mr. Jackson. May I see the log? Well, it's in the cabin, sir, for all to read. The fact is, the voyage was so good, there's precious little in it. But you did note your exact position at every wind change and the drifts. Any drifts against the wind you noted, though, is the position. Well, I can't say I was so thorough as all that. I'm not gonna have it or writing every little thing down in the log. Like if there's a cloud bank ahead and it looks bad. Why, if those clouds move on off my course, I don't mention a thing like that. I figure that's God's business. Yes, yes, I know. It seems like an unreasonable thing to ask, but... Look here. If I could chart you a course that would get you in San Francisco, say, a week ahead of any vessel sailing at the same time. Would you be willing to keep the kind of log I need? What do you think, Mr. Maureen? Well, I believe I could chart you such a course. Because a record like that would tell us how we could improve on the one you used this time. How about it? What are there, Mr. Maureen? I'll enter every seagull in the log from now on. And why there's no news of the whirlwind. By my calculations, you should have reached San Francisco more than two weeks ago. You should have some word by now. Perhaps they're waiting for the others to arrive to give you the difference in time. Well, you should have written it once. Here are the afternoon papers, sir. I just put them down there. Did you stop at the post office as I asked you? Yes, sir. There was nothing there. Lieutenant Maureen. Yes? It's right here, sir, in the newspaper. Let's see it. By special dispatch San Francisco, the most remarkable race in the history of mercantile navigation concluded today with the arrival of the last contestant, the Sally, which sailed into harbor 16 days after the arrival of the winner, the whirlwind. It's wonderful, Lieutenant. Think of that. The whirlwind's master sailed according to charts prepared by Lieutenant Matthew Fontaine Maureen of the Navy Department of Charts. Look, sir. It says here, it's believed that Lieutenant Maureen's discoveries will have future significance in the development of the United States as a naval power as well as saving thousands of dollars in the shipping industry. Lieutenant Landon. They'll have to believe now. They'll have to believe me. But you've got to believe me, Mr. Secretary. It's all there. The charts. The masters of the ships all agree to... Mr. Maureen, I'd like to believe you. But do you realize that the wives and families of 768 men are deluging this office with demands? That's how many men are adrift in mid-ocean on the San Francisco. And the Navy can't find her. Don't you think I'd like to believe you know a way? But I do know a way. And so do a thousand astrologers and other crackpots who are writing in here every day. Mr. Secretary, I'm not an astrologer and I'm not a crackpot. I've studied this matter for years. They sent me to the depot of charts and instruments, the boneyard of the Navy. But it was no boneyard in my case. I found valuable records there that they were using for firewood. I think there's some question as to just who is crazy, Mr. Secretary. There are stupidities, yes, Mr. Maureen, but this theory of yours... I have never been prejudiced by preconceived theories, Mr. Secretary. Facts, findings, observations. Those have been my materials and those have determined my judgment of the finished product. The race, of course. There's no doubt that your charts of prevailing winds have speeded up navigation under sail. I'm afraid prevailing winds will have little to do with the position of the San Francisco. She's simply drifting in mid-ocean. If we find her, it will be an accident. If you drifted down the Mississippi on a raft, would you think it an accident that you arrived in New Orleans? Well, now, Mr. Maureen... Because that's exactly what the San Francisco is doing. The position where she was cited for the last time lies in a rapid southward current. By checking the wind velocity against the drift of that current, I can show you the exact spot where she lies. I can chart you a course straight to her. I know I can. You seem very sure of that, Mr. Maureen. Mr. Secretary, I'll stake my life, work and my career in the Navy. I can find that ship. I pray you're right, Mr. Maureen. Mr. Berryman. Yes, Mr. Secretary? You will place your ship at the disposal of Mr. Maureen. You will follow his chart to the letter. Aye, aye, sir. And may I say, Mr. Maureen, that I'm sorry. Fate won't permit you being on the bridge. Thank you, sir. But I'll be there. Your opinion of this method? Oh, it can't be worse than guessing, sir. That's precisely my feeling. Do I have your glass against it? Yes, certainly. I see a tooth. What do you make of it, sir? Of the port bound. Give me that glass. It is. The San Francisco. It's either a miracle or that man, Maureen, is a genius. Lieutenant Maureen. Yes, Mrs. Maureen. I think you have more decorations than any admiral at this banquet. Shh, shh, shh. Now remember you're the wife of the guest of honor. Who's that man with the mutton chops and a face like a balloon? And that's the German ambassador. He has a ribbon. You're the handsomest man here. You should have the ribbon. Please. Let me have fun, Matthew. I've waited so long for this moment. When they'd finally recognize you for the great man you are, I mean here at home. Ladies and gentlemen. It's time for your speech, Matthew. You got your notes? Oh, heaven help me. I left them at home. Ladies and gentlemen, you all know the whole world knows Lieutenant Matthew Fontaine Maureen. The 38 nations have bestowed on him the highest honors in their power to bestow. But tonight we pin no orders and dub no knighthoods on our guest of honor. We bring him testimony of the simple gratitude of every man who goes down to the sea in ships and every woman who waits at home for the seafarer. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the man who calmed the seas. I'm deeply touched by these many kindnesses. Lord Packingham calls me the man who calmed the seas. I did not calm the seas. I didn't even make the pathways around the reefs and shallows. They were there all the time. This surely as a bird travels along highways of the air, there was bound to be a way for men to go in safety in the uncharted waste of waters. And if I did more than any other man to find that way, it was because I believed. But I wasn't the first to believe. Four thousand years ago, the poet who wrote the Eighth Psalm guessed the secret of the birds of the heavens, the beasts of the field, the fish of the sea, and what so ever passeth through the paths of the sea. A man had believed and out of that belief came the inspiration for knowledge and human knowledge conquered the unconquerable element. Chartered its safe ways as surely as men of his nation before him had found the passes through the heise eras of the new world and the unknown and terrifying most ancient of men's fears became the known and serene. This Matthew Fontaine Maori joins the procession of the mighty that is the Cavalcade of America. Cavalcade of America thanks Carl Swenson and the Cavalcade players for their performance of Pathfinder of the Seas, the story of Matthew Fontaine Maori. And now the DuPont Company brings you its story from the wonder world of chemistry. The auto shows are on. Tonight we've invited a designer, Mr. Robert Harper, and an automotive engineer, Mr. Kenneth Mead to give you a new and different behind-the-scenes glimpse of chemistry. Chemistry as it helps to make the 1941 cars the best ever. Mr. Harper, what do you think are the most striking things about the new cars? From the designer's viewpoint, Mr. Collier? Yes. Well, certainly I had mentioned the new colors like Capri Blue and Ruby Maroon, Cimarron Green, French Copper, and Palmer Wine, especially in the two-tone color combinations. The iridescent metallic finishes, too. In the interiors, I imagine the most striking feature of the 1941 cars is their use of plastics. Cars this year use 13 times as much of your DuPont Lusite as they did in 1938. And when plastics were first used in car design a few years back, I recall that they were made to look like, oh, everything, hardwood, ivory, even tortoise shell. I can't imagine what place a tortoise had in the modern automobile. Today, we're using plastics because they're beautiful in themselves as well as practical. I'd say we're using plastics in 40 or 50 adaptations. Thanks, Mr. Harper. Incidentally, a good many of the new colors you like are Duco and Dulux finishes made by DuPont. Now, Mr. Mead, as an engineer, you know a lot more about chemistry's contributions to the modern car than I do. Chemistry is the modern automobile's silent partner. You can break in a 1941 car in a very short time because using electroplating chemicals, we've given the pistons a miraculously smooth finish. In fact, some of the new cars don't need breaking in at all. But I'd say the most significant trend in the whole 1941 automotive picture is the use we're making of synthetic rubber. We're using neoprene, DuPont's chemical rubber, in 100 or more applications. Its superior resistance to oils, heat, sunlight and ozone means less worry and fewer repair bills for the motorist. In fact, there are at least two modern parts that would have to be completely redesigned if we didn't have neoprene. The front spring suspension and the water pump. Thank you, Mr. Mead. DuPont is now making more than a half million pounds of neoprene a month. Airplane tires and heavy-duty tractor tires are already being made of it. And perhaps the day isn't far off when increased production will lower the costs. We'll go to an automobile show and see neoprene tires on passenger cars. Mr. Harper and Mr. Mead have spoken of some of the direct contributions chemistry makes to the modern car. But the chemist's service to the American automobile owner is a contribution which carries on through the life of your car. Thus, in the realm of the open road, too, DuPont chemists bring you, in the words of the DuPont pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. And now the star of next week's program, Jeanette Nolan. Ladies and gentlemen, I can think of no better way to tell you about Anne Rutledge, the heroine of our broadcast for next week, than to read you this poem by Edgar Lee Masters from his Spoon River anthology. Out of me, unworthy and unknown, the vibrations of deathless music, with malice toward none, with charity for all. Out of me, the forgiveness of millions toward millions, and the beneficent face of a nation shining with justice and truth. I am Anne Rutledge, who sleep beneath these weeds, beloved in life of Abraham Lincoln, wedded to him, not through union, but through separation. Bloom forever, oh republic, from the dust of my bosom. Anne Rutledge, who was loved by Abraham Lincoln, inspired that verse. It is her sad and tender story that the cavalcade players bring you next week. Thank you. On the cavalcade of America, the orchestra and original musical scores are under the direction of Don Voorhees. Your narrator, William Spargrove. This is Clayton Collier bringing you best wishes from the cavalcade players and from DuPont. Here is a special message to American citizens in those states where there is still time to register. To vote, you must register. In a time when democracy is on trial throughout the world, we in America have the right that has denied millions of the earth's people to choose those who shall govern for us. To make democracy work, we must register now and vote on election day. This is the National Broadcasting Company.