Saving The Crew of the E. B. Hale
By James Donahue
The wooden steamer E. B. Hale lies in the boneyard of sunken ships off notorious Pointe aux Barques in Michigan’s Huron County. The story of the Hale’s sinking on October 8, 1897, and the crew’s narrow escape to the steamer Nebraska during a raging southwest gale, is a true tale of terror on the Great Lakes.
Capt. James Lawless said he was bringing the boat from Lorain, Ohio to Milwaukee with one thousand, one hundred eighty-six tons of steel billets in the hold when it ran into the storm off Saginaw Bay. The gale put a strain on the heavily loaded twenty-three-year-old vessel. When off Point aux Barques a main steam pipe broke from the side of the boiler, filling the engine room with deadly steam and scalding water. Lawless said it was a miracle that engineer John Cowley of St. Clair, Michigan, and his firemen escaped alive. Crowley was seriously injured but he survived.
Because of the steam and heated water, it was impossible for anyone to enter the engine room and make repairs. The engine was out of commission and the boat was adrift at the mercy of the storm. Before long the wooden hull began pulling apart from the strain. The steam-powered pumps couldn’t be used so the sailors hoisted the old hand-operated pumps to the deck and tried to keep the water out of the hold the hard way. “But the sea was running so high that the men were washed away,” Lawless said. He said nobody was lost overboard, but there were some narrow escapes as sailors grabbed railings and ropes to keep from being swept off into the seas. They soon were forced to give up trying to operate the pumps.
As the Hale settled in the water, things were looking very serious. Sometime in midday the Nebraska answered the boat’s distress signals and came to help. Efforts to run towlines to the Hale were unsuccessful. “Three times a line was thrown to us from the Nebraska, but each time it broke owing to the violent lurching of the vessel. For several hours we were tossed about, the Nebraska lying close to, but being unable to aid us,” Lawless said.
The crew of the Hale finally tried to abandon ship. A lifeboat was lowered but it was smashed by the crushing seas. The second boat was launched but then the men couldn’t get into it. Lawless said several sailors were thrown into the water by the storm, but then miraculously rescued. At last everybody got into the lone lifeboat and began pulling in the heavy seas for the waiting Nebraska. But they were making no headway. The skipper of the Nebraska maneuvered his boat by backing up and then turning so it shielded the lifeboat from wind and waves. The tired sailors finally managed to scramble aboard the waiting steamer. Some of the survivors were badly bruised. Engineer Cowley had to be carried ashore when the Nebraska docked at Port Huron that night.
The Hale sank about thirty minutes after the crew left it. Some say it lies deep in about two hundred forty feet of water, about thirty-seven miles offshore.
By James Donahue
The wooden steamer E. B. Hale lies in the boneyard of sunken ships off notorious Pointe aux Barques in Michigan’s Huron County. The story of the Hale’s sinking on October 8, 1897, and the crew’s narrow escape to the steamer Nebraska during a raging southwest gale, is a true tale of terror on the Great Lakes.
Capt. James Lawless said he was bringing the boat from Lorain, Ohio to Milwaukee with one thousand, one hundred eighty-six tons of steel billets in the hold when it ran into the storm off Saginaw Bay. The gale put a strain on the heavily loaded twenty-three-year-old vessel. When off Point aux Barques a main steam pipe broke from the side of the boiler, filling the engine room with deadly steam and scalding water. Lawless said it was a miracle that engineer John Cowley of St. Clair, Michigan, and his firemen escaped alive. Crowley was seriously injured but he survived.
Because of the steam and heated water, it was impossible for anyone to enter the engine room and make repairs. The engine was out of commission and the boat was adrift at the mercy of the storm. Before long the wooden hull began pulling apart from the strain. The steam-powered pumps couldn’t be used so the sailors hoisted the old hand-operated pumps to the deck and tried to keep the water out of the hold the hard way. “But the sea was running so high that the men were washed away,” Lawless said. He said nobody was lost overboard, but there were some narrow escapes as sailors grabbed railings and ropes to keep from being swept off into the seas. They soon were forced to give up trying to operate the pumps.
As the Hale settled in the water, things were looking very serious. Sometime in midday the Nebraska answered the boat’s distress signals and came to help. Efforts to run towlines to the Hale were unsuccessful. “Three times a line was thrown to us from the Nebraska, but each time it broke owing to the violent lurching of the vessel. For several hours we were tossed about, the Nebraska lying close to, but being unable to aid us,” Lawless said.
The crew of the Hale finally tried to abandon ship. A lifeboat was lowered but it was smashed by the crushing seas. The second boat was launched but then the men couldn’t get into it. Lawless said several sailors were thrown into the water by the storm, but then miraculously rescued. At last everybody got into the lone lifeboat and began pulling in the heavy seas for the waiting Nebraska. But they were making no headway. The skipper of the Nebraska maneuvered his boat by backing up and then turning so it shielded the lifeboat from wind and waves. The tired sailors finally managed to scramble aboard the waiting steamer. Some of the survivors were badly bruised. Engineer Cowley had to be carried ashore when the Nebraska docked at Port Huron that night.
The Hale sank about thirty minutes after the crew left it. Some say it lies deep in about two hundred forty feet of water, about thirty-seven miles offshore.