Tag Archives: Ships

Amazing Escape from Doomed Grappler

Ss Grappler

In early British Columbia, nautical disasters were common occurrences.One of the 120 vessels sunk or damaged in the Seymour Narrows off of Vancouver Island was the Grappler,a former colonial navy gunboat turned cargo freighter, which sank on April 28th 1883, near Duncan Bay. Islander author T.W. Patterson describes Grappler’s fate.

Her captain was  John T. Jaegers, a seasoned mariner and well known local captain. In the article, Patterson provides some background details about the captain. After arriving in Victoria aboard the vessel Gondolier in the late 1870’s, Jaegers acted as mate aboard the Hudson’s Bay Company steamer Beaver under Captain J.D. Warren, until he himself was given command of the ship, which he captained for a further three years. After more than twenty years as a mariner on the B.C. coast, he was forced to retire from his command of the Canadian Pacific Navigation Company Steamer R.P. Rithet, when he was diagnosed with cancer. He succumbed to the disease, and “crossed the bar” in September of 1898.

However, in April of 1883, Jaegers was in command of the ill-fated  freighter Grappler and carrying a load of gunpowder, cannery supplies and a 100 chinese cannery workers on a return trip from Naniamo. Soon after the Grappler left Naniamo trouble started.

Late that night, the Grappler passed Duncan Bay in calm seas. All was peaceful until engineer William Steele smelled smoke. Moments later, he passed the terrifying word to Capt. Jaegers that there was a fire in the forward hold.

By the time Jaegers and his mate, John Smith, were able to have coal cleared from ‘tweendecks thereby enabling them to reach the forward hold, they knew that the fire was well established. After ordering that all hatches be sealed, Captain Jaegers returned from the wheel house and gave four, sharp blasts from his whistle in the vain hope that someone ashore might be alerted to the Grapplers danger.

Then, as mate Smith and a deckhand attempted to fight the blaze with a single hose, Jaegers tried to head the dying steamer towards shore.

In spite of the captain and crew’s best efforts both attempts to avert the catastrophe failed. When the steering cables broke, the ship went out of control, steering spasmodically all by itself. This caused it to gain speed, which in turn fanned the flames and caused the Grappler to become a blazing inferno. The Colonist reported:

“The heavy engines, racing at full speed, were siding with the work of death and destruction by forcing the doomed craft through the water with a rapidity which made the lowering of a boat an impossibility. If one reached the water without swamping, the crazed Chinese at once loaded it with rice and personal effects, on top of which they piled in such numbers that it immediately went down.”

In the last few moments before the ship sank, Captain Jaegers resolutely remained at his post, he was forced to flee only when the forward deck of the Grappler collapsed. At the very last moment he jumped over the side and swam as hard as he could for the shore.

His ordeal was not ended, as the tide “carr[ied] him down [the shoreline] at a frightful rate, but at last with a despairing effort he reached an eddy which deposited him on a huge boulder, leaving him there unconscious.”

Many other passengers were not so lucky. A large majority of the ships passengers and crew either drowned when they tried to launch a boat and escape, or burned with the Grappler. Patterson states the death toll to be close to 89 people, however, more conservative estimates state that it was likely closer to between 71 and 77. It is highly probable that  the majority of the people who died where Chinese cannery workers.

Although he was originally presumed dead, captain Jaegers survived the ship wreck, and was rescued by a group of loggers. He went on to work for the Canadian pacific Navigation Co. until his death in 1898.

Massacre at Point Grenville

Point Grenville today.

In the days of the first exploration of the Northwest Coast of North America, sailing close to shore in uncharted waters was often risky business. At Point Grenville in present day Washington State, about halfway between the cities of Tacoma and Seattle, one of the Vessels of an expedition led by the explorer Bodega y Quadra became trapped in an inlet on the wrong side of a very large shoal, or as he put it, a “great mountain range of shoals”(una gran cordilers de bajos).

With Quadra’s ship the Sonora trapped close to shore, her sister ship Santiago, commanded by Bruno de Hezeta,  anchored further out to sea so that it would not also be at risk of running aground. After trading with a group of seemingly friendly Native people, a group of men was sent ashore to take possession of the nearby coast for Spain. The party included Commander Bruno de  Hezeta, Padra Sierra, surgeon Davales, second Pilot Cristobal Revilla, and twenty others. This group constituted the very first recorded occurrence of white Europeans setting foot on the shores of Washington State.

A day later, as he waited for the tides to change so that he could maneuver his ship off the reef, Quadra decided to send another party ashore to replenish his ships  supply of water and fire wood and find a new top mast. Quadra wrote:

“For this purpose I sent, well armed and forewarned, six crewmen qualified by astuteness and training for such things; each carrying his musket, a cutlass and two pistols; commanded by Pedro Santa Anna, the boatswain, who was known among all his peers for bravery and a cool head”

Islander author Vince Venables describes the ensuing situation:

They pulled away from the schooner and in the rough seas on the way to shore shipped a quantity of water making the boat heavy and awkward to manage. Nearing the shore where dense forest almost reached the water, they jumped out, and while they were fighting the boat through the heavy breakers and struggling to beach it, the nearby bushes parted and out leaped 300 howling, armed Indians who fell upon them, momentarily defenceless as they were, and hacked most of them to pieces.

Aboard the Sonora, Quadra watched in horrified disbelief as his men were attacked. Warning shots fired from sailors muskets and the ship’s swivel gun were ineffectual and only two men from the shore party managed to flee into the ocean, in an attempt to escape. Despite efforts to reach the desperate men in a barrel (as they was no longer a proper boat on board ship), the efforts failed and the two men succumbed to their fates, brought on by a combination of the chill from the freezing waters and blood loss from their wounds.

At noon on the same day, the tide finally changed, and Quadra made hasty preparations to escape. However, just as the crew began raising the ships sails, several canoes full of obviously armed native people surrounded the vessel. After feigned offers to trade, which were ignored by the angry Spaniards, the Sonora began to sail away from shore.

There was just enough wind to get the little schooner in motion. The canoes moved along with her, and at last, in a surge of impatience, the warriors in the lead canoe grasped Sonora’s bowsprit and attempted to swing up onto the undefended prow.

In that instant the Spaniards opened fire with the swivel gun and three muskets, spreading their fire so that there were no pause between volleys. The Indians with consummate skill, took to their paddles in frantic flight, but too late, for the first volley of Spanish shots dropped the majority of occupants of the lead canoe. The warriors in the other canoes…fled beyond the range of Spanish fire to hold a counsel.  Writes Quadra in cold fury: “I would have captured or killed the rest if I had not been among shoals, to which condition I was forced to give the most attention.”

This incident was the first of many similarly violent events. The way in which the events unfolded at Point Grenville, set a clear precedent, that defined aboriginal-european relations for years to come.

Image Credit:http://www.panoramio.com/photo/27631718

Quadra’s Explorations

Captain Juan Francisco de la Bodega y Quadra, Marina real, circa 1785

Though they may be less visible in the physical historical record, the early explorers of the North West Coast of North America have had a lasting impact on the physical and cultural landscape of modern British Columbia and its surrounding region. Islander author Vince Venables provides an interesting description of one of the most important Spanish Explorers, Bodega Y Quadra’s, eventful expeditions to the Northwest Coast.

After leaving his base in San Blas on the Pacific Coast of Mexico, Quadra sailed north stopping peacefully in California, he then carried on to what is now Washington State. Here, a party of sailors who had gone ashore were attacked by native people, and six were killed. With their resolve stiffened by the successful attack upon the sailors, the natives attempted to assault Quadra’s main ship, the schooner Sonora. Though the attack was repelled, the ship suffered enough damage to jeopardize the future of Quadra’s expedition.

Neither Quadra nor his equally courageous pilot, Francisco Antonio  Mourelle, would hear of turning the schooner back and putting in at Monterey[California].

Quadra declared stoutly “The hardships I have endured and expect are common to all navigators, more especially to discoverers, and should be accepted with resignation and stoicism, for they are in the King’s service and for the honour of the country,” an argument that might have been lifted almost verbatim from Crevantes’ text of Don Quixote de la Mancha.

This apparent inability to separate the ideal from the actual was to cost Quadra dearly in terms of his health and that of his crew and was responsible in part for his premature death. However, the parallel between  Quadra and the Knight of the Sorrowful countenance must not be pressed to far, for unlike the lovable and ludicrous buffoon of Cervantes novel, Quadra was thoroughly practical; and, as a first class naval officer, navigator, and cartographer, would have been a credit to any of the world’s great navies.

Four months into the expeditions the situation worsened for the brave explorers. The second of Quadra’s ships the Santiago, was in terrible condition, as many of its sailors were below decks suffering from scurvy, while the rest were angry and nearing a state of all out mutiny. To remedy the situation, Quadra and his navigator Mourelle hatched a daring plan.

They knew that Santiago’s plight  and recognized that Commander Hezeta[the Santiago’s captain] had every reason to turn back, but that they could not. after carefully examining all possibilities they decided to allow the commander to withdraw from the expedition gracefully and without strife by the expedient of deliberately losing him in [a] storm.

Mourelle writes in his diary that they “formed the daring plan of separating and dying in our craft rather than return without information,” so that His Majesty might not suffer the expense of repeating the expedition. Such an undertaking could never succeed without the crew’s loyal support, so the captain and pilot took the whole matter to them, asking for their help. Like the pilot Mourelle the crewmen had   long ago caught Quadra’s Quixotic thirst for danger and cheerfully agreed to their best to aid the daring plan. Furthermore they decided amongst themselves to contribute jointly to a solemn Mass in honour of Our Lady Bethlehem, beseeching her help to reach 65 degrees north latitude and return safely to Saint Blas.

Quadra applauded their ardour and devotion. Deliberately losing the flagship in the fog, on July 31, they were on their own in their frail damaged craft in the cold northern sea.

Continuing on their journey, Quadra and his crew managed to explore and survey much of the coast of Alaska. They were forced to turn back some months later in dire circumstances, after sailing half way up the Alaska  Panhandle close the location of the modern day town of Sitka. Though he may be no more than a street name to many Victorian’s, Quadra was an enigmatic explorer, who played a fascinating part in history.

Image Credit: http://www.cmhg.gc.ca/cmh/image-274-eng.asp?page_id=328

Victoria Tightrope Walker

Ss. Islander

Over the years, many unusual, idiosyncratic events have occurred in the city of Victoria. The brief tale of “famous tightrope walker” Professor Alfred J. Dugay, recorded by T.W.Paterson in the Islander, can certainly be considered one of the most unique.  On January 10 1895, the Victoria Colonist printed an announcement which stated that:

[he would] give an exhibition of his skill this afternoon and tomorrow. He will walk along a rope stretched between the masts of the [Ss.]Islander, a distance of some 200 feet, and will perform many new and interesting feats in the air.

The next day, a crowd of hundreds came out and congregated at the foot of Johnson street close to where the Islander was moored, hoping to witness the feats of the sensational performer.

On the E. & N. bridge-indeed, from every conceivable vantage point – hundreds watched with bated breath as the daredevil bowed…and mounted the tightrope.

Balancing himself, Dugay tiptoed along the cable until he was about 12 feet from his starting point. Before beginning his routine, he called to the workers 25 feet below: “When I tell you to pull on that rope do so.”

No sooner had the words left his lips than the audience realized he was in trouble. As an agonized gasp shot through the crowd, Dugay teetered then lost his balance. With a sickening thud that was heard from afar, he struck the Islander’s deck with his left shoulder – with such force that he split the planking.

As he lay motion less, all looked on in stunned disbelief. The scores of onlookers rushed forward and impeded the efforts of those who were trying to help him. With considerable difficulty he was moved to the Occidental Hotel, where Dr. Hall advised his immediate removal to the Jubilee Hospital.

Surprisingly, in spite of the dramatic trauma of his fall from Grace, Dugay was later reported to not have suffered any serious injuries. An ensuing investigation of the tightrope set up on the ship revealed the cause of the accident;

a faulty hook attached to the block and tackle used to secure the tightrope to one of the Islander’s masts.Earlier, Dugay had personally approved the equipment after six strong men had tested the cable and gear by pulling on them with all their might; this had, ironically, placed fatal strain on the faulty hook, weakening it further and leading to Dugay’s memorable, near fatal performance.

Despite apparently promising to repeat his performance, Paterson notes that after a search of archival records, no mention of an encore by Professor Dugay was ever reported.

Photo Credit:http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:SS_Islander.jpg