I live right on the Lakes, they are no joke. Usually little kids, when they see it, go "look at the ocean!" because that's the scale they know for large bodies of water.
Last summer we were out in a 21' Shamrock - about 3 miles off shore and the wind came up. steady 5-6 with the occasional 8 foot roller. Caught our attention quick. Now to think that in some storms these ore boats are taking green water over the bridge. On a LAKE. Like you go bass fishing on (and Lake MI has some outstanding smallmouth...)
The Lake came up and swallowed her. She was 729 feet long with a 75 foot beam. 13,632 gross tons and 7500 hp. Her screw was the size of a walleye boat at just over 19 feet.
The Anderson reported the Three Sisters and IMO - that combined with her taking on water did her in. I think the bow and stern were raised on waves, leaving the middle in the air, unsupported and she snapped under the weight, driving herself under. I never bought the shoaling idea as they just never found damage to the shoal and when you see her on the bottom - the stern is turned turtle - no damage to be seen to indicate she struck either Superior Shoal.
RIP -
MICHAEL ARMAGOST FREDERICK BEETCHER THOMAS BENTSEN EDWARD BINDON THOMAS BORGESON OLIVER CHAMPEAU NOLAN CHURCH RANSOM CUNDY THOMAS EDWARDS RUSSELL HASKELL GEORGE HOLL BRUCE HUDSON ALLEN KALMON GORDON MACLELLAN JOSEPH MAZES JOHN MCCARTHY ERNEST MCSORLEY EUGENE O'BRIEN KARL PECKOL JOHN POVIACH JAMES PRATT ROBERT RAFFERTY PAUL RIIPPA JOHN SIMMONS WILLIAM SPENGLER MARK THOMAS RALPH WALTON DAVID WEISS BLAINE WILHELM
I remember that night and what I was doing. I was down on Canandaigua Lake in the western finger lakes of NY state. That storm hit us pretty hard but all we got out of it was the high winds. P.S. There are several web sites that deal with that. Just google "Edmund Fitzgerald" to find 'em.
Ernest McSorley, the captain, was from up our way. His nephew, his brother Jack’s son, was a close friend of mine at that time. My wife’s paternal grandfather, like many around our small town, “worked the boats” for part of his life. He’d sailed with Ernie McSorley and held him in high regard.
All the Great Lakes are impressive, actually they are large, freshwater seas. At the moment I am within sight of Lady O, Ontario. There are many days I don’t want to be out there in anything, for any reason.
Remember it well as we were living in Minnesota back then. Have also stood on the top of the lighthouse at Whitefish Bay and looked out where she went down. Gives one a funny feeling. Also have seen the mangled lifeboats at Sault Ste. Marie, MI.
Yes, these lakes can get treacherous when a storm comes up.
Larry *********** "Speed is fine but accuracy is final" - Bill Jordan "We do not exaggerate when we state positively that the remodelled Springfield is the best and most suitable "all 'round" rifle".......Seymour Griffin, GRIFFIN & HOWE, Inc.
This summer a father and 10-year old daughter drowned in the rip tide off Park Point in Lake Superior. The daughter was caught up and the father died trying to save her. The waves were bad enough that a zodiac capsized during the search effort and firefighter sucked in enough water to be hospitalized.
Forgive me my nonsense, as I also forgive the nonsense of those that think they talk sense. Robert Frost
When I first heard Gordon Lightfoot's song "The Edmund Fitzgerald", I thought it was about an early 20th century ship. In about 1990, I learned that it was a recent tragedy.
I'm a lover of Great Lakes Maritime History and in a perfect world, I'd probably teach it at a collegiate level.
When you realize the Fitz is one of many like the Morell and Bradley and countless wooden boats - really makes a guy stare at the lake and just be in awe.
Once in a while I fish Lake Michigan on the west side north of Milwuakee. I just don't care for it much, , till I get me a Coho or something.
But the fruits of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness,faithfulness, Gentleness and self control. Against such things there is no law. Galations 5: 22&23
I've always lived within earshot of Lake Michigan's waves. You can hear the roar in November. That same night the Fitz went down, we lost 2 people off our pier. Sadly it happens most years - usually a rip current in the summer is the culprit.
A few weeks ago, waves were 28' with 60 knot winds on the big lake they call Gitche Gumee. 2 people were swept in off Lake Superior Cliffs in Presque Isle park. J hawk helo made it on station in 2 hours, seas were far too rough to affect a water rescue. SAR was called off. Bodies have yet to be recovered.
The waves on the Great Lakes come in sets of 3s - the Three Sisters. They aren't gentle rolling waves like the ocean, but in more rapid succession and steeper. I've been out of sight of land a few times when things have got nautical in a hurry and we had to make a run for safe harbor.
As for the Fitz, she was running blind without radar. The Arthur Anderson was her eyes that night. Last report to the Anderson was McSorely saying "we are holding our own". When Capt Cooper of the Anderson was asked to go after her, his reply was "I'm afraid I'm going to take a hell of a beatin' out there."
Interesting reading here from the Whitefish Point Shipwreck Museum:
The final voyage of the Edmund Fitzgerald began November 9, 1975 at the Burlington Northern Railroad Dock No.1, Superior, Wisconsin. Captain Ernest M. McSorley had loaded her with 26,116 long tons of taconite pellets, made of processed iron ore, heated and rolled into marble-size balls. Departing Superior about 2:30 pm, she was soon joined by the Arthur M. Anderson, which had departed Two Harbors, Minnesota under Captain Bernie Cooper. The two ships were in radio contact. The Fitzgerald being the faster took the lead, with the distance between the vessels ranging from 10 to 15 miles.
Aware of a building November storm entering the Great Lakes from the great plains, Captain McSorley and Captain Cooper agreed to take the northerly course across Lake Superior, where they would be protected by highlands on the Canadian shore. This took them between Isle Royale and the Keweenaw Peninsula. They would later make a turn to the southeast to eventually reach the shelter of Whitefish Point.
Weather conditions continued to deteriorate. Gale warnings had been issued at 7 pm on November 9, upgraded to storm warnings early in the morning of November 10. While conditions were bad, with winds gusting to 50 knots and seas 12 to 16 feet, both Captains had often piloted their vessels in similar conditions. In the early afternoon of November 10, the Fitzgerald had passed Michipicoten Island and was approaching Caribou Island. The Anderson was just approaching Michipicoten, about three miles off the West End Light.
Captain Cooper maintained that he watched the Edmund Fitzgerald pass far too close to Six Fathom Shoal to the north of Caribou Island. He could clearly see the ship and the beacon on Caribou on his radar set and could measure the distance between them. He and his officers watched the Fitzgerald pass right over the dangerous area of shallow water. By this time, snow and rising spray had obscured the Fitzgerald from sight, visible 17 miles ahead on radar.
At 3:30 pm that afternoon, Captain McSorley radioed Captain Cooper and said: “Anderson, this is the Fitzgerald. I have a fence rail down, two vents lost or damaged, and a list. I’m checking down. Will you stay by me till I get to Whitefish?” McSorley was checking down his speed to allow the Anderson to close the distance for safety. Captain Cooper asked McSorley if he had his pumps going, and McSorley said, “Yes, both of them.”
As the afternoon wore on, radio communications with the Fitzgerald concerned navigational information but no extraordinarily alarming reports were offered by Captain McSorley. At about 5:20 pm the crest of a wave smashed the Anderson’s starboard lifeboat, making it unusable. Captain Cooper reported winds from the NW x W (305 ) at a steady 58 knots with gusts to 70 knots, and seas of 18 to 25 feet.
According to Captain Cooper, about 6:55 pm, he and the men in the Anderson’s pilothouse felt a “bump”, felt the ship lurch, and then turned to see a monstrous wave engulfing their entire vessel from astern. The wave worked its way along the deck, crashing on the back of the pilothouse, driving the bow of the Anderson down into the sea.
“Then the Anderson just raised up and shook herself off of all that water – barrooff – just like a big dog. Another wave just like the first one or bigger hit us again. I watched those two waves head down the lake towards the Fitzgerald, and I think those were the two that sent him under.”
And:
Keeping Watch
Morgan Clark, first mate of the Anderson, kept watching the Fitzgerald on the radar set to calculate her distance from some other vessels near Whitefish Point. He kept losing sight of the Fitzgerald on the radar from sea return, meaning that seas were so high they interfered with the radar reflection. First mate Clark spoke to the Fitzgerald one last time, about 7:10 pm:
“Fitzgerald, this is the Anderson. Have you checked down?”
“Yes, we have.”
“Fitzgerald, we are about 10 miles behind you, and gaining about 1 1/2 miles per hour. Fitzgerald, there is a target 19 miles ahead of us. So the target would be 9 miles on ahead of you.”
“Well,” answered Captain McSorley, “Am I going to clear?”
“Yes, he is going to pass to the west of you.”
“Well, fine.”
“By the way, Fitzgerald, how are you making out with your problems?” asked Clark.
“We are holding our own.”
“Okay, fine, I’ll be talking to you later.” Clark signed off.
The radar signal, or “pip” of the Fitzgerald kept getting obscured by sea return. And around 7:15 pm, the pip was lost again, but this time, did not reappear. Clark called the Fitzgerald again at about 7:22 pm. There was no answer.
Captain Cooper contacted the other ships in the area by radio asking if anyone had seen or heard from the Fitzgerald. The weather had cleared dramatically. His written report states:
“At this time I became very concerned about the Fitzgerald – couldn’t see his lights when we should have. I then called the William Clay Ford to ask him if my phone was putting out a good signal and also if perhaps the Fitzgerald had rounded the point and was in shelter, after a negative report I called the Soo Coast Guard because I was sure something had happened to the Fitzgerald. The Coast Guard were at this time trying to locate a 16-foot boat that was overdue.”
With mounting apprehension, Captain Cooper called the Coast Guard once again, about 8:00 pm, and firmly expressed his concern for the welfare of the Fitzgerald. The Coast Guard then initiated its search for the missing ship. By that time the Anderson had reached the safety of Whitefish Bay to the relief of all aboard. But the Coast Guard called Captain Cooper back at 9:00 pm:
“Anderson, this is Group Soo. What is your present position?”
“We’re down here, about two miles off Parisienne Island right now…the wind is northwest forty to forty-five miles here in the bay.”
“Is it calming down at all, do you think?”
“In the bay it is, but I heard a couple of the salties talking up there, and they wish they hadn’t gone out.”
“Do you think there is any possibility and you could…ah…come about and go back there and do any searching?”
“Ah…God, I don’t know…ah…that…that sea out there is tremendously large. Ah…if you want me to, I can, but I’m not going to be making any time; I’ll be lucky to make two or three miles an hour going back out that way.”
“Well, you’ll have to make a decision as to whether you will be hazarding your vessel or not, but you’re probably one of the only vessels right now that can get to the scene. We’re going to try to contact those saltwater vessels and see if they can’t possibly come about and possibly come back also…things look pretty bad right now; it looks like she may have split apart at the seams like the Morrell did a few years back.”
“Well, that’s what I been thinking. But we were talking to him about seven and he said that everything was going fine. He said that he was going along like an old shoe; no problems at all.”
“Well, again, do you think you could come about and go back and have a look in the area?”
“Well, I’ll go back and take a look, but God, I’m afraid I’m going to take a hell of a beating out there… I’ll turn around and give ‘er a whirl, but God, I don’t know. I’ll give it a try.”
“That would be good.”
“Do you realize what the conditions are out there?”
No reply from the Coast Guard. Captain Cooper tries again.
“Affirmative. From what your reports are I can appreciate the conditions. Again, though, I have to leave that decision up to you as to whether it would be hazarding your vessel or not. If you think you can safely go back up to the area, I would request that you do so. But I have to leave the decision up to you.”
“I’ll give it a try, but that’s all I can do.”
The Anderson turned out to be the primary vessel in the search, taking the lead. With the ship pounding and rolling badly, the crew of the Anderson discovered the Fitzgerald’s two lifeboats and other debris but no sign of survivors. Only one other vessel, the William Clay Ford, was able to leave the safety of Whitefish Bay to join in the search at the time. The Coast Guard launched a fixed-wing HU-16 aircraft at 10 pm and dispatched two cutters, the Naugatuck and the Woodrush. The Naugatuck arrived at 12:45 pm on November 11, and the Woodrush arrived on November 14, having journeyed all the way from Duluth, Minnesota.
The Coast Guard conducted an extensive and thorough search. On November 14, a U.S. Navy plane equipped with a magnetic anomaly detector located a strong contact 17 miles north-northwest of Whitefish Point. During the following three days, the Coast Guard cutter Woodrush, using a sidescan sonar, located two large pieces of wreckage in the same area. Another sonar survey was conducted November 22-25.
I often wonder if today's technology would've saved the Fitz. Aside from forecasting and GPS steering, those waves would've still hit her.
By God, that was a Hell of a Storm, and I grew up on Superior on Whitefish Bay, until Uncle Sam kindly offered an invite in 1971. June 1975, returned to the UP, and went to work in the Tilden and Empire iron mines up Ishpeming and Negaunee way. Driving from Marquette to the Soo, the night the Fitzgerald went down. One of the worst storms I' ve experienced. Took refuge at Big Abes, outside of Bay Mills and mighty thankful for the shelter. Real good friend, that had also seen the elephant, was sailing on the Anderson that night, said he never felt closer to death. Can only imagine what it was like out on Superior, I know for sure it was rough on shore.
Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, Whom shall I send? And who will go for us? And I said, Here am I. Send me!
