WRECKED ON LAKE ERIE

Steamer Idaho Goes Down Off Long Point

NINETEEN DROWNED

The Story of a Terrible Struggle for Life Amid Inky Blackness, Shrieking wind and Merciless Waves

[Welland Tribune, 12 November 1897]

Buffalo, Nov. 7-The steamer Idaho of the Western Transit Line, which left this port Friday afternoon in the face of a big gale, bound for Chicago, loaded with packet freight and carrying a crew of 21 men, foundered off Long Point on Lake Erie at 4 o’clock Saturday morning, but two men survived to tell the tale of a fierce battle with the angry waves. Long Point juts out into Lake Erie from the Canadian shore about 50 miles west of Buffalo, and its vicinity has been the scene of many disasters. The Idaho was an old boat, having built in Cleveland in 1863. She had lately been completely overhauled, however, and was considered a staunch boat and able to stand any kind of weather. Her captain, Alexander Gillies, who went down with the vessel, was one of the most widely known of lake seamen. The news of the disaster reached this city on the arrival of the big steel steamer Mariposa shortly after eleven o’clock Saturday night, when Captain Frank D. Root told the following story:

“It was one of the worst gales I ever experienced in all my years on the lakes. We started from Chicago with a load of oats. All the way down the lakes we had a fight with the storm, and I thought once or twice of putting in somewhere until it blew over. It was about 12.30 yesterday afternoon when I first learned of the wreck of the Idaho. I was on deck, when my first mate came to see me and told me that he had sighted a spar off to the north and that he thought there were a couple of men clinging to it. He pointed it out to me, and when I got the glasses on it I could distinguish the men plainly. We were running under a good head of steam at the time and I put on more and headed for the spar.”

A SURVIVOR’S STORY

The story of the foundering of the steamer is told most graphically by Deskhand W. Gill, of the two men taken from the spar by the crew of the Mariposa. The name of the second man who was rescued is not known. He disappeared almost immediately after arriving in the city, and could not be located. He was the second mate on the Idaho.

Gill’s story as told by him early this morning is as follows:-“We left here Friday night, bound for Chicago, with a cargo of general merchandise. Everything seemed alright until we got outside of the breakwater, and then we were struck by the worst storm that I ever saw. When the first big breaker struck us we were tossed up in the air like a top, and a second later a big roller coaster came over the port bow and rolled down amidships a foot down. The wind shrieked and howled, but we did not pay much attention to the storm. We had felt wind before. The captain consulted with the mate and decided that he could weather the storm and he kept on his course. There were some old sailors in the crew, and I think all of them were satisfied that we were in no danger. As we headed up the lake, dead against the gale, it appeared to be getting worse every minute. The waves were running high, and the wind threw the tops from the breakers like dust.

“We moved slowly against the heavy wind and sea, and when we were well up the lake we found that the boat was making water very fast. It kept faster and faster and the bilge pumps were put to work, but the water gained, and every minute the ship kept getting less buoyant and the big combers kept breaking over her. After passing Long Point the captain he could not weather the storm and gave the order to turn back and run for the point, with the intention of beaching the ship. But the pumps gave out and the water gained so rapidly that it was too late. She was already laboring, and the two men at the wheel could do nothing with her. A couple more men went to work with them, and finally they brought her around and headed her to land. Captain Gillies ordered the men to the fire buckets and we formed a line and began to bale, but it was of no use. The water gained on the pumps and the buckets, and so on till the water put the fires out.”

ONE LAST CHANCE

“When it was found that the power was gone, and that she could not be moved, we knew that we could live in the trough of that fearful sea, and only hope left us, was to run out the anchor and bring her head up to the sea, and let her ride out the gale Every seaman realized the danger of attempting to do that in the face of a hurricane, and when Captain Gillies decided to do it, he ordered the lashing of the boats cut, and told the men that they were forced to take one last chance, for their lives. At the word the anchor dropped from the bow and the chain began to pay out, but the sea was too heavy and instead of the anchor catching with a firm grip and bringing the ship’s head up to the storm with a jerk, it went too slow, and she simply tumbled into the trough of the sea, which broke over in torrents. In an instant she was as helpless as a log, and she was tossed here and there and taking every wave aboard. From port to starboard the great mountains of foaming water poured, rolling into the hold, and was added to the quantity already weighing her down. The load was too much, and, after a moment, when we all felt that we were lost, the ship keeled over to the starboard and went down, stern first.”

THE SHIP WENT DOWN

“What became of my mates, I do not know. I remember that the boats had loosened and some of the men were ready to take to them if the vessel went under, but no boat could have lived for a minute in that terrible sea, and if any of them did get into the boats it was simply to be swamped as the first wave struck them. Maybe they did not leave the ship at all. I was near the spar, and then the stern of the vessel began to go down. I went for the rigging and went up as far as I could. Another man went up with me-the second mate-and I thank the Lord that he was with me or I would have gone mad during all the long hours I was up there hanging on and trying to keep off the frightful cold that was slowly killing us both. There as a rolling to and fro as the vessel struck the bottom and slowly righted to an even keel, and then a second later she rolled over to her side. I thought she was going all the way over, but she did not. She settled on them, and though the waves rolled her from port to starboard, the spar remained out of the water, with the mate and myself clinging to it.”

A TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE

“All this time the hail and sleet was coming down in a cutting sheet and we were covered with ice in a few minutes. For though the top of the spar on which we were hanging was twenty-five feet above the water, the big waves struck us and broke over us and the hail cut us like shot. I knew it was about 3 0’clock when we went down, and it seemed to me that daylight would never come. For what seemed an age we hung onto the rigging, and we twisted our arms about the spar and let them freeze into position, or we would have fallen into the fearful sea. When daylight came we could not see a sail anywhere near us, and the sea was as bad as ever. There did not seem to be any chance of it subsiding. Hour after hour we waited there, and two steamers hoved in sight only to pass without seeing us, and I began to despair when the mate saw the Mariposa coming. For a long time we did not know whether she would sight us, and we watched her from the time she was a little smokey haze up the lake until we could see she was a big vessel. When she finally sighted us and we saw her head for us, I tried to tell my mate, but I could not, and he looked at me with a happy look in the face. It was a terrible to us before she came up to us, and then I knew we were not safe yet, for the sea was running mountains high and the big steel boat was rolling like a skiff. Every wave sent her up in the air until we could see her white bottom under her water line. We knew at once that her captain would not attempt to lower a boat, for it would have been chewed up. When the Mariposa got within a cable length of us a man with a strong voice yelled to us to hang on. “Don’t give up.: he yelled, “We will get you off soon.” Then the boat circled around us, coming as near as she could, but when she was within a few rods a big roller swept her far out and she went off to starboard, rolling heavily when she got in the trough of the sea. Then she came back again, and again missed us, and we could not take a line had one been thrown to us. Again she went around and we watched her and watched the men on her rail, waiting to give us a lift when they could. On the third trip round she ran right along our spar and as she went past a dozen men reached for us. I don’t know who got the mate, but Mr. Smith, the engineer, got a hold of me, and dragged me from the spar and over the rail of the Mariposa. An instant later we had passed the little stick on which I and the mate had been hanging for almost a day, although it seemed a week.

NAMES OF THE MISSING

The following are the names of sixteen of the nineteen men who lost their lives:-Alex Gillies, captain, Buffalo; Geo. Gibson, first mate, Buffalo; Wm. Clancy, chief engineer, Buffalo; John D. Taylor, steward, Buffalo; Nelson Skinner, first assistant engineer; Louis Gilmore, watchman; Richard McLean, wheelman; Robert Williams, wheelman; A.J. Richards, look-out; Henry Thompson, look-out; Conrad Blanker, fireman; John Healy, assistant steward; Frederick Miffort, oiler; Edward Smith, deck hand, Rochester, N.Y.; M. Bell, deck hand. The names of three of the men drowned are unknown. One was a fireman, another a deck hand and third a porter. The hailing place of most of those lost is also unknown to the steamers owners.

The names of the two men saved are Louis LaForce, jr., second mate, and Wm. Gill, a deck hand, living at 137 Kent st., Rochester.