More vessels than commonly realized have mysteriously disappeared in the open expanse of Lake Superior. Steamers like the BENJAMIN NOBLE, lost without a trace in the western reaches of the lake in 1914; the KAMLOOPS sunk by unknown forces near Isle Royale in 1927, the Canadian survey vessel LAMBTON, swallowed by the lake in 1922. They are but three of a list of more than 30 whose only common denominators are the lives of the crews they carried with them into the abysms of Superior's depths and the mysterious circumstances surrounding their loss. Together they form an exclusive club, whose membership is limited only to vessels that "went missing."
Marquette's representative in this Lovecraftian society is the HENRY B. SMITH, lost during the gale-driven night of November 9, 1913.
The SMITH cleared Marquette at 6:30 p.m. November 9, 1913, downbound with 11,000 tons of Marquette Range iron ore. The weather was foul, a northwester was churning the lake and it gave no indication of moderating. The SMITH had been running late all season, and her captain, James Owen, a lake skipper of 30 years' experience, was under heavy pressure from the owners to bring their ship "home on time." Perhaps that was the reason he challenged the fury of the lake.
The HENRY B. SMITH was a nearly new steel steamer, built for the Acme Transit Co. of Cleveland in 1906. She was 525 feet in length, 55 feet in beam and 30 feet in depth. Access to her cavernous holds was provided by 32 hatches. She had been delayed in transit by a late gale and had arrived at Marquette's Lake Superior and Ishpeming Dock several days late. Captain Owen demanded that he receive his cargo immediately, even though the storm was still raging. In the icy 24-degree weather, the ore frequently froze as it waited in the dock pockets, adding more delays. Directly after the last car of ore had dropped down the chute, the SMITH cast off and steamed into the tempestuous lake. It had taken two days to load her cargo.
The SMITH was one of the largest bulk carriers on the Great Lakes at that time and her master had been heard to joke about the possibility of disaster. He was so confident in the SMITH's safety that he left port without properly battening her hatches. Observers watched her steam directly out into the open lake for 20 minutes and then turn toward the Keweenaw. Captain Cleary of the Marquette Life Saving Station commented to one observer that Owen would soon realize his folly and return to the harbor. He was wrong. The SMITH was never seen again.
Wreckage from the steamer was located several days later at Beaver Lake, near Grand Marais. Discovered by Munising fishermen, it consisted of a built-in ladderway stenciled HENRY B. SMITH, a single oar, also stenciled, a piece of her deckhouse and two cabin doors. Later, additional flotsam (three oars) was found 13 miles east of Marquette, on Shot Point. The combined field of wreckage was incredibly small for a vessel the size of the SMITH. Captain Cleary advanced the theory that the steamer could not have foundered within ten miles of the shore or there would have been more wreckage. He suggested that the gale prevented her crew from battening her hatches while at sea and the waves consequently flooded her. Approximately two weeks after the wreck, the lifeless body of the second cook, Henry Askin, was floating in a life jacket 50 miles west of Whitefish Point. His was the first body recovered.
It is not difficult for the reader to visualize the steamer's final hours. Shortly after leaving Marquette, Captain Owen would have realized his mistake in leaving the safety of the harbor. He would have known that the lake had his ship firmly in its icy grasp. The storm he thought was abating had increased in violence. The SMITH had become the centermost object of a kaleidoscopic vortex of sound and motion. The screaming wind ripped at her upperworks, smashing doors and hatches and blowing away poorly lashed deck gear. Sweeping gray seas made matchwood of her lifeboats and threatened to swamp the beleaguered steamer with their sheer bulk. Captain Owen handled the struggling ship with all the skill he possessed, fighting to keep her bow on to the wind-churned seas. The lake tempest continued to grow in force. He must have sensed the ultimate truth.
The grim ore carrier fought on, the waves pitching her so violently that her screw was alternately in and out of the water -- racing in the open air one second and biting deeply into the freezing lake the next. Below in her stokehold, the black gang tried desperately to feed her boiler flies, but the wild movement of the deck beneath their feet made the task nearly impossible. Still they worked on for without steam the SMITH would be a dead ship. Sometime during the storm the waves would have worked into her hold through the open hatches, driving her lower and lower until finally she foundered.
Although the SMITH perished in November, it was six months before the second body from her 24-man crew was discovered. On May 9, 1914, the badly decomposed remains of Chief Engineer John Gallagher were discovered by two Indians on Michipicoten Island, in eastern bake Superior. No trace of the other 22 crewmen was ever found.
There was yet another strange twist to the mystery of the HENRY B. SMITH. In early June, 1914, a fisherman one mile south of Coppermine Light on the north shore of Whitefish Bay found a message in a bottle apparently written by Captain Owen describing the last terrible hours of the vessel. It reported that while 12 miles east of Marquette, the steamer had broken in two at the number five hatch. The bottled message was dated November 12, however, and as the SMITH had left Marquette on the 9th, there existed an obvious discrepancy in dates. As to whether the stress of the situation caused the captain to err on his message date or whether the message was a cruel hoax is open to speculation. At the time of discovery, many considered it to be authentic, but as time passed, general opinion held it to be a hoax.
The best explanation of the loss of the SMITH was advanced by J.R. Oldham, a well-known Cleveland marine architect of that day. It was Oldham's contention that the foundering could be attributed to the size of the vessel's hatch combings. He stated that the combings were too low, only one foot in height whereas they should have been three. He stressed the necessity to increase the strength of the hatches and improve their coverings.
In the late 1930's there was some speculation that a Lake Survey vessel working offshore Marquette had located a large steel steamer deep in the lake. However a careful search of the Lake Survey reports from that era fail to reveal any record of such a discovery.
Whether the SMITH foundered in the storm, was devoured by the fierce gale or broke and sank can only be guessed. Her disappearance remains a mystery... She simply sailed out of Marquette and directly into membership in the exclusive club of those ships which "went missing."
DAILY MINING JOURNAL, November 9, 11, 15, 20, 22 & 25, 1913; June 4, 1914
Journal of the Life Saving Service Station at Marquette, November 9, 10 & 11, 1913
MARQUETTE CHRONICLE, June 4, 1914.