Dismissing, as destitute of sound philosophic probability, the extravagant notion of one of my nautical friends--no less a philosopher than my Viking himself--namely: that the phosphoresence of the sea is caused by a commotion among the mermaids, whose golden locks, all torn and disheveled, do irradiate the waters at such times; I proceed to record more reliable theories.
Faraday might, perhaps, impute the phenomenon to a peculiarly electrical condition of the atmosphere; and to that solely.

But herein, my scientific friend would be stoutly contradicted by many intelligent seamen, who, in part, impute it to the presence of large quantities of putrescent animal matter; with which the sea is well known to abound.
And it would seem not unreasonable to suppose, that it is by this means that the fluid itself becomes charged with the luminous principle.

Draw a bucket of water from the phosphorescent ocean, and it still retains traces of fire; but, standing awhile, this soon subsides.

Now pour it along the deck, and it is a stream of flame; caused by its renewed agitation.

Empty the bucket, and for a space sparkles cling to it tenaciously; and every stave seems ignited.
But after all, this seeming ignition of the sea can not be wholly produced by dead matter therein.