This is the true story of a relevancy — one exemplified by the collision of two vessels and the sinking of one — a relevance that sails on, moving across confused seas.

The collision occurred on Sept. 30, 1850, involving the steam vessel Monticello and the schooner Northwestern. The wreck of the Northwestern lies on Lake Huron’s bottom off Rogers City’s shore.

It was darker then than now; the only light at night came from the stars and the moon.

Today, a glow remains on the horizon. We have difficulty dealing with such darkness; references leave us. We wouldn’t know if we’re up or down if it weren’t for gravity’s effect.

Enter a dark room and disorient yourself as if you experienced a miniature but violent storm there. Arrange for a light to be struck at a random location.

Are you to the north or the south of that light? How far away is the nearest wall?

You won’t have a clue.

Give the light some character: a color, or have it flash. Still, the light won’t tell you where you are in the world that is in that room. More information than the light alone must be provided.

Look at the night sky on a clear evening. Is that a star, or is it an aircraft, a satellite perhaps? Only some discernible movement and/or the aircraft’s light character tells you which.

Without those clues, we don’t know if the light comes from a source a few feet away, hundreds of yards away, or a galaxy millions of lightyears distant.

So it is with a light at night upon a dark sea.

In 1850, the Northeast Michigan shore was a void of darkness. The Cheboygan River light came on in 1851; the Spectacle Reef light did not appear until 1874. North of Rogers City, the 40-Mile Point light first cast its glow in 1896.

Only the Presque Isle light existed then, as it had since 1843, but it was at the southern end of that darkness and was only 30 feet high. At that height, it had a range of seven-and-a-quarter miles — assuming its reflectors were not clouded by the smoke of its whale oil flame.

Over 40 miles of unguided darkness lay beyond the northernmost reach of the Presque Isle light’s range.

Into that darkness from the north, the steamer Monticello sailed south. The schooner Northwestern sailed north, leaving that light’s range behind.

Both sailed toward each other into a world of substantial unknowns, with few clues.

A world not unlike our own.

Still north of where Rogers City is now, the Monticello saw a white light in the distance. It was the bow light of the Northwestern — a kerosene lantern hanging at its cathead end. However, the skipper of the Monticello conceived it to be the Presque Isle light, even though he was far north of that lighthouse’s maximum range.

The Monticello’s skipper didn’t know where he was.

Sailing north, the skipper of the Northwestern saw sparks from the stack of a steamer off in the distance. He perceived it as a vessel, one on a collision course. He ordered a course change to the northeast.

The Northwestern’s skipper knew where he was.

However, as the two vessels converged, they remained on a collision course. Though the Northwestern moved farther into the lake to the northeast, the Monticello continued to sail toward it, guided by its skipper’s erroneous conception and oblivious to his vessel’s changing orientation.

Though the vessels moved closer and closer, neither could tell how far apart they were until it was too late.

Responsibility for the collision was determined by the U.S. Supreme Court (58 U.S. 152).

Justice Grier wrote the court’s opinion:

“The theory of mere negligence or inattention to duty will hardly account for this collision … they mistook the bright light of the schooner for the Presque Isle Lighthouse, and it is evident that laboring under this delusion, they steered directly for the schooner’s light.”

“… with a channel and room to pass as wide as the lake, the bright light of the schooner in full view — it cannot be accounted for except by the hypothesis of the active cooperation of the officers of the steamboat, caused by a delusion, under which they continued to labor.”

The Monticello didn’t follow a light. It followed a delusion.

The relevancy surviving the sinking of the schooner Northwestern is that we haven’t learned to perceive the difference.

Doug Pugh’s “Vignettes” runs monthly. He can be reached at pughda@gmail.com.