As for the wreck of Prudence, with onset of high winds and pounding surf, it was soon reduced to rubble along the Broad Cove beach.
Despite temporary problems with the law, salvage of items from wrecked ships continued, legal or illegal. People of the area considered it their God-given right to claim items adrift in the sea (or soon to be adrift, as soon as the vessel broke up). After all, it would only be lost to the sea if not taken.
According to an article in the Evening Te legram (January 13, 1964), there was a fitting tale, albeit anecdotal, to exemplify this: In the late 19th century, a small fishing boat put out to sea in one of the heavy Cape Race fogs to rescue a crew of a stranded freighter. After getting the first two loads of seamen ashore, the boat came back for the officers and captain – traditionally the last to leave a ship.
“Thank God you noticed us on the ledge out here, ” exclaimed the grateful captain of the wrecked freighter. “I don’t know how to express my thanks.”
“You’re welcome, ” one of the fishermen replied. “We’ve been up these past three nights since the fog got thick, waiting for you to strike the rocks, and you didn’t disappoint us.”
The fisherman and his mates then proceeded to salvage the freighter’s goods.
The Lighthouse at the Cape: A Provider for the Needy
In most villages and towns, a real or visible dollar was rarely seen, at least up to the 1940s. Fish, if caught and cured well, was often bartered or exchanged with the merchant in a larger centre for goods – fishing supplies, food, and basic necessities. If fish were scarce, the quality poor, or if markets, thus payment for fish, were glutted or didn’t take the exported product, the fishermen found themselves indebted to the merchant.
Often it was perceived by those living along the coastlines of Newfoundland and Labrador that families residing in the lighthouse were much better off than their neighbours. After all, the government-paid lightkeepers had a regular and relatively substantial salary, i.e. cash, in an era when most fishermen barely made enough to keep body and soul together. Being more or less isolated, the lighthouses kept a goodly store of stables and basic food, enough to last them through the winter.
So, it was a destitute fisherman saw a ray of light, a glimmer of hope, coming from the food supplies at Cape Race and walked from Trepassey to the Cape Race Lighthouse to ask for a few provisions and “to get something to eat for his family.” An oft-heard phrase in those desperate years was, “The long, hungry month of March, ” when winter supplies were running low.
But for one man, the long, hungry month came in January. On the fifth of that month in 1891, James Butler of Trepassey travelled 40 miles to the light for food. He was in a wretched state, according to the lightkeeper, probably John Myrick at this time. Furthermore, “It was Butler’s second visit for provisions.”
Butler told the lightkeeper that after a few days his family would have consumed the little food Myrick could spare and he would be forced to come back yet a third time.
Having to walk 40 miles to and from Trepassey to Cape Race, the keeper said, to get a meagre amount of food for hungry children was a true statement of James Butler’s condition. Myrick was also sorry to say that the man’s circumstances were like many others in Trepassey. The keeper, in a true spirit of Christian charity, did not turn down a hungry family, while expecting other future visits from the needy.
20
Capsized off Cape Race
August 1892
The August gales were weather phenomena well-respected by schooner captains and crews. Their 60- or 70-ton vessels, too small to combat the heavy winds and high seas that seemingly sprang up without warning, were sometimes caught miles from land, often with tragic results.
In late summer, hurricanes originating near the Tropic of Cancer lash their way northward, devastating parts of the southern United States. By the time these violent winds reach the Maritimes, much of their fury is spent, but the final flick of the hurricane’s tail across the fishing grounds and into exposed harbours came suddenly and with deadly results for schooners. Locally, these windstorms were called the August (or September) Gales.
The August storm that roared across southern Newfoundland in 1892 claimed two schooners bearing the name “Foote”; both were lost with crew from the same town and were owned by the same business. George Foote, anchored on the Grand Banks during the storm, collided with the Nova Scotian fishing vessel Cashier. Debris from both were found after the storm, but no bodies of the 12 Nova Scotians or of the 17 crew of George Foote were ever found. Then, incredibly, another schooner owned by Foote’s business of Grand Bank was reported lost off Cape Race.
At 22 tons, with an overall length of 49 feet, Maggie Foote had been built in Grand Bank for Thomas Foote in the fall of 1891, and was used primarily as a small freight schooner to carry salt fish and tinned lobster to St. John’s. From there, it would return to the South Coast with general produce, food, clothing, and building materials.
George Foote, one of the crew, had recently gotten married, and his main reason for going to St. John’s, beside purchasing goods for his ship’s trade, was to buy furniture for his new home. His younger brother, Clarence, a student, travelled with him and planned to obtain the clothes and suits necessary for his college year in mainland Canada. Both brothers had heard of the St. John’s fire (July 8, 1892) and were anxious to see the ruins of the city. The September 7, 1892, edition of the Evening Te legram reported:
. . . another marine tragedy brings great affliction to the families in Grand Bank – the capsizing of the schooner Maggie Foote, owned by Foote Brothers of that place, and the apparent loss of all who had been on board. She left here (St. John’s) at noon on Saturday, August 20, for Grand Bank, with 130 barrels of flour and shop goods on board.
The next heard of her was a report, about a week afterwards, of a schooner arriving at Burin – the Beacon Light, Tibbo master, owned by James Vigus. The crew of this schooner – Charles Pardy, master of the schooner Pointer, informs us – reported having seen the Maggie Foote upset about 20 miles off Cape Race, and that they ran up near her, cut a hole in the bottom, and took out about 50 barrels of flour. They saw no signs of the crew.
Those who sailed in the Maggie Foote were: Morgan Riggs, master, of Grand Bank, leaving a wife and two children; George Foote of Grand Bank, five months married; George Buffett, of Jersey Harbour, aged about 20; Sylvester Shea of English Harbour, about the same age; and Clarence Foote of Grand Bank, aged about 18. He studied in the Wesleyan College up to the last vacation, when he proceeded home, and hearing of the conflagration (St. John’s fire), came to see the destruction done.
It was his intention, when he arrived home, to take passage by a schooner – which sailed a week or so after the capsizing – for New Brunswick, to enter Sackville College. It is thought that the Maggie Foote was “scudding” before the wind on Monday, August 22, and that the storm came so heavy that it was found necessary to bring her to the wind and that in doing so she turned over.
A year later, in the August Gale of 1893, another Foote schooner, the Clarence T. Foote, disappeared while en route to mainland Canada. Undaunted by these disastrous setbacks, the Foote enterprise in Grand Bank built and purchased other schooners, although none ever carried the surname “Foote” again.
Is the City of Boston Off Cape Race?
About the time of the loss of several great ships at or near Cape Race, the Newfoundland newspaper Twillingate Sun published an interesting short article of the cape where so many shipping accidents had happened. It said in its February 13, 1892, edition that local fishermen had discovered a fishing bank (or shelf of land where schools of codfish were usually found) off Cape Race. The bank was about 600 yards in length and 300 yards wide, and it had approximately ten fathoms or less of water above it. Furthermore:
The bearings of the shoal are East Northeast from Cape Race 17.5 miles and North 1/2 West from Cape Pine. Its approximately position is latitude North 46.25, longitude We
st 53.20.
This bank has been known to the fishermen of Trepassey and it is said that in hauling their bultows after a heavy gale of wind, they have brought up ship wreckage from the bank. The wreckage was apparently the remains of fine cabin furniture.
Some people are of the opinion that it was at this spot the unfortunate City of Boston was lost.
“Magnificent” was a word commonly used to describe the Inman Line’s City of Boston, a well-built ship that was deemed the top of its class for a passenger vessel. In early January 1870, with every prospect of a speedy and safe voyage, it left New York en route to Liverpool and plunged to the bottom somewhere in the North Atlantic, resulting in the death of 177 passengers and crew.
When this ship became 18 days overdue, a spokesman for the Inman steamers issued a statement, which said in part:
All the great transatlantic lines have their own tracks as distinctly charted down and separated as if they were rival railways. The Inman track, after leaving Cape Race, curves considerably towards the north, and runs in higher latitude than any other of the main sea-tracks, except that of the Glasgow steamers.
But City of Boston didn’t report. No one ever learned why or determined exactly where the steamer plunged to the bottom, although its route, as determined by shipping agencies, took it into the great shipping circle lanes that passed near Cape Race. Despite some official inquiries and the knowledge of coordinates of the wreckage, the mystery of what the fishermen found was never solved.
21
Barratry, Salvage Deals,
and Sounding Leads
September 1893
Three unusual wrecks occurred in the Cape Race area in the second half of the month of September 1893. In the first calamity, the ugly head of barratry – an unlawful act from a fraudulent breach of duty by a master of a ship or by the mariners to cause injury to the ship – occurred.” The schooner Tiger went ashore in Trepassey on September 17 under suspicious circumstances.
Owned in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, by Joseph Rogers, the 57-ton schooner was built three years previously in Eel Brook, on the south coast of Nova Scotia. Captain Goodwin was master; there were no provisions or cargo aboard. In fact, Tiger was empty of nearly everything.
Strange, thought the people of Trepassey, that Goodwin and crew made no attempt to refloat the vessel. Weather was civil, therefore people suspected the vessel was lost by design.
Anyway, owner Rogers and Captain Goodwin sold the wreck (if it could be called that, for the vessel lay on the beach, seemingly undamaged). Someone from Newfoundland bought it for $40.00 – a bargain, if only for the wood to burn.
But the purchaser pumped out Tiger and examined the damage, perhaps to see if the schooner could be repatriated with the ocean, and found three auger holes drilled through the bottom. The new owner plugged the holes and when the vessel was pumped out, it was like new. It seemed to be a case of barratry: intentionally allowing or causing a schooner to sink to claim insurance or to collect monies; in other words, fraud.
By then Captain Goodwin and crew had gone to Nova Scotia; local authorities thought legal action would ensue in that province. If the owner and master had to answer for their crime, it is not clear and there is no record of Tiger sailing Newfoundland waters again.
Salvage Rights?
The German barque Oscar Wendt, laden with lumber and timber deals, stranded in Pigeon Cove, an inlet of Portugal Cove South, on Tuesday, September 26. It stayed intact until heavy weather and high seas on October 1 pounded the barque to pieces.
That day, some of the cargo was carried out to sea; much was driven into the beach, piled up, and broken up by the breakers.
Livyers in the area were quick to say that, if they had been allowed, they would have landed the cargo. That is, if they could have worked under reasonable salvage terms with the insurance underwriters: pay us monies equivalent to half the value of the cargo landed. Plus, the owners of the cargo would pay duty on the cargo, which amounted to one-fifth its value. It would be stockpiled on shore until a vessel came to re-ship it.
In essence, they held Oscar Wendt’s cargo consignees and underwriters under ransom. They knew the ocean and rugged shoreline would soon do its damage. On the other hand, the underwriters stubbornly refused this arrangement.
In the ensuing storm, the whole cargo went adrift. Only then did the insurance agents quickly offer a counter proposal. Local salvors could have half if they paid the one-fifth duty (looking after the underwriter’s part), plus put the salvaged cargo – or engage a third party to do the work – aboard a vessel.
Local fishermen who were willing to do the work expressed the opinion, “That was grinding down the poor man pretty hard; it wouldn’t be enough to give us our grub.” In other words, the agreement wouldn’t put food on the table; it wasn’t worth the work.
What value would spruce deals, great squared blocks of timber, be in a place like Portugal Cove South? In addition, the men would have to watch and wait for weeks before the sea would be smooth enough to re-ship. Their portion of the duty would be $2.50 on every 30 deals. The answer was “no deal” to the deals.
Owing to the delay, the underwriters lost considerably. On the other hand, the people of Portugal Cove South and surrounding towns were indignant they were abused, “trodden on” as they termed it, by shipping agents, underwriters, insurance agents, and owners of the erstwhile Oscar Wendt.
Sounding Leads
The SS Rhiwderin left New York in ballast on September 23 bound for Tilt Cove, Newfoundland, to load a cargo of copper ore for Swansea. Rhiwderin, 737-ton, was owned in Cardiff, Wales.
Everything went well as the steamer passed eastward of Sable Island, sighting it until September 29, when a dense fog set in with a south-southeast wind. The ship’s course was set to take it 12 to 16 miles outside Cape Race.
At 4: 00 p.m. that day, the captain ordered a sounding taken with a cast of lead. Everything seemed fine, as there were 41 fathoms of water below the ship. At 8: 00 p.m. the same day, another cast found 68 fathoms.
Course was altered to east-southeast, and Rhiwderin kept on that course. In the fog the captain assigned a lookout on the bow. That lookout was due to come off watch at 4: 00 a.m. and left his post 15 minutes ahead of time to call his shipmate to begin the new watch. The steamer struck rocks at 3: 50 a.m., September 30.
Rhiwderin went aground one mile west of Mistaken Point. Although there was no loss of life or personal injury, Rhiwderin and its cargo became victims of the environs of Cape Race.
On October 20 and 21, a Court of Inquiry convened in St. John’s to investigate the circumstances of the wreck. I. G. Conway, Captain Edward English, and Duncan Baxter presided. Firstly, the court reviewed the captain’s neglect: he had not used the lead line to determine depth of water from 8: 00 p.m. up to the time Rhiwderin struck at 3: 50 a.m.
On the south coast of Newfoundland, Captain English stated, “as is well known to mariners, strong and irregular currents prevail, setting in to the bays which indent that part of the coast. The master of the steamer would have shown more discretion had he steered a more southerly course.”
Certainly Rhiwderin’s captain should not have approached so closely, considering the direction of the wind and the dense fog prevailing at the time. Most damning, said the court, the lookout man was not at his post when the ship struck, having left it to call the watch, which took about seven or eight minutes.
Thus the question was raised:
Was Rhiwderin fully manned with the helmsman, the lookout, and the officer of the deck? The court ruled against the captain of Rhiwderin and passed their opinion.
First, the captain steered an improper course in approaching Cape Race;
Secondly, he did not make due allowance for the current that sets so strong into the bays on that coast;
Thirdly, he is censured for not taking more frequent soundings. The court believes that when approaching such a dangerous coast in thick weather, the lead should be cast at least e
very two hours;
Finally, we hold it contrary to proper seamanship to allow the lookout to leave his post.
The master of Rhiwderin was found negligent. His master’s certificate was suspended for three months, although he could hold a mate’s certificate. In addition, he had to pay for the costs of the Court of Inquiry.
Oil Spill at Cape Race
The oil tanker SS Rotterdam left New York for Rotterdam on July 30, 1897. It carried 1,787,520 gallons (equivalent of 5,500 English tons) of crude oil taken on at Aruba. In the fog off southern Newfoundland, it went aground at Shingle Beach Cove, between Mistaken Point and The Drook. It was Tuesday evening, August 3.
Captain Voege fired rockets which were answered by a ship nearby, the SS Barcelona. After attaching heavy cables (which snapped at least three times), Barcelona, with the help of Rotterdam’s own engines, pulled off the tanker. On Wednesday, eleven a.m., August 4, it floated free.
Meanwhile the crude oil had leaked out; estimated by some to be about half of it, roughly 900,000 gallons. In that era, 1897, there were few, if any, estimates of the extent of environmental damage done in the Cape Race-Trepassey Bay region caused by a spill of nearly one million gallons of oil.
Rotterdam passed Cape Race at twelve p.m. Wednesday and the Barcelona about twenty minutes later, both heading for St. John’s with the oil tanker anticipating much repair to the rent in its bottom.
22
Collision in the Great Steamer
Track: Florence and the
SS Scandinavian
Cape Race Page 9
