The Burning Roanoke
From my book Terrifying Steamboat Stories
The steamer Roanoke seemed destined to burn. Flames swept the decks of the wooden hulled propeller twice. The final blaze destroyed and sank the steamer on August 7, 1894, while it was on its way from Port Huron to Washburn, Wisconsin, with a load of salt. The boat sank in one of the deepest parts of Lake Superior, about twenty miles off fourteen Mile Point, in twelve hundred feet of water. There were no casualties.
The first burning happened on about May 17, 1890, while the Roanoke was tied up at the Northern Steamship Company dock in Buffalo. The fire started in the hold, possibly from an overturned lantern, then spread to three hundred bales of jute butts loaded there. Dried jute burns hot, and within minutes flames were shooting up the amidships hatch and spreading to the fresh-painted woodwork between decks. The ship’s gangways were open and a brisk offshore wind supplied all of the oxygen the fire needed to race through the wooden superstructure. By the time the fire tug arrived, flames were flashing from the gangways at both ends of the ship. To save the dock tugs towed the burning steamer to shallow water near the old life station. The fire was extinguished and by midnight the smoking hulk was towed back to the dock once again. Her upper works were ruined. Fire fighters continued pouring water into the smoldering jute for the rest of the night.
The Roanoke was rebuilt and operated for another four seasons before the final fire consumed it. The ship’s master, Capt. Alonze Cox, said a defective lamp caused the final fire. He said the lamp exploded in the engine room. Within seconds the engine room floor, saturated with lawyers of oil, coal dust and grime, turned into a mass of flame. Workers fled for their lives. Because the fire started in the engine room, there was no chance for the crew to fight the blaze. The boat’s steam-powered pumps were controlled from there. In fact, everybody fled so fast that nobody thought to shut down the engines. With the propellers turning at full speed, the moving vessel created wind that helped fan the fire.
The sailors formed an old-fashioned bucket brigade for a while, and one brave man, whose name was never told, braved the burning engine room to get one of the pumps operating. But Cox said the fire-fighting efforts were a lost cause. The fire started about 10:30 PM and by midnight he said he had to give the order to abandon ship. The lifeboats were dropped from the davits and the crew members sat helplessly in them, watching the fire consume and eventually sink the vessel that had been their home. The lifeboats drifted throughout the night until the propeller George Spencer arrived in the morning. The Roanoke was on the lakes for twenty-seven years. She was built in Cleveland in 1867.
From my book Terrifying Steamboat Stories
The steamer Roanoke seemed destined to burn. Flames swept the decks of the wooden hulled propeller twice. The final blaze destroyed and sank the steamer on August 7, 1894, while it was on its way from Port Huron to Washburn, Wisconsin, with a load of salt. The boat sank in one of the deepest parts of Lake Superior, about twenty miles off fourteen Mile Point, in twelve hundred feet of water. There were no casualties.
The first burning happened on about May 17, 1890, while the Roanoke was tied up at the Northern Steamship Company dock in Buffalo. The fire started in the hold, possibly from an overturned lantern, then spread to three hundred bales of jute butts loaded there. Dried jute burns hot, and within minutes flames were shooting up the amidships hatch and spreading to the fresh-painted woodwork between decks. The ship’s gangways were open and a brisk offshore wind supplied all of the oxygen the fire needed to race through the wooden superstructure. By the time the fire tug arrived, flames were flashing from the gangways at both ends of the ship. To save the dock tugs towed the burning steamer to shallow water near the old life station. The fire was extinguished and by midnight the smoking hulk was towed back to the dock once again. Her upper works were ruined. Fire fighters continued pouring water into the smoldering jute for the rest of the night.
The Roanoke was rebuilt and operated for another four seasons before the final fire consumed it. The ship’s master, Capt. Alonze Cox, said a defective lamp caused the final fire. He said the lamp exploded in the engine room. Within seconds the engine room floor, saturated with lawyers of oil, coal dust and grime, turned into a mass of flame. Workers fled for their lives. Because the fire started in the engine room, there was no chance for the crew to fight the blaze. The boat’s steam-powered pumps were controlled from there. In fact, everybody fled so fast that nobody thought to shut down the engines. With the propellers turning at full speed, the moving vessel created wind that helped fan the fire.
The sailors formed an old-fashioned bucket brigade for a while, and one brave man, whose name was never told, braved the burning engine room to get one of the pumps operating. But Cox said the fire-fighting efforts were a lost cause. The fire started about 10:30 PM and by midnight he said he had to give the order to abandon ship. The lifeboats were dropped from the davits and the crew members sat helplessly in them, watching the fire consume and eventually sink the vessel that had been their home. The lifeboats drifted throughout the night until the propeller George Spencer arrived in the morning. The Roanoke was on the lakes for twenty-seven years. She was built in Cleveland in 1867.