Manhattan
October 26, 1903
The Gilchrist steamer MANHATTAN, downbound from Duluth for Buffalo with a cargo of grain, was forced by northerly gales to shelter behind Grand Island. After the weather moderated late on the night of October 25th, the MANHATTAN started down the east channel for the open lake. About midnight, when she was opposite the East Channel Light, her steering chain broke, causing her to veer off course and smash into a reef just off the channel. The impact was strong enough to knock over chairs, dishes, tools and other loose items, among which was a burning kerosene lantern in the after cabin. The resulting fire caught quickly and soon was roaring out of control.
The crew was taken off by the Powell and Mitchell tug WARD. The wooden steamer burned to the water's edge, and together with her cargo of 76,000 bushels of wheat, was a total loss. The MANHATTAN was insured for $50,000 and the cargo for $65,000.
The 1,545-ton MANHATTAN, a comparatively modern and staunch vessel, was built by the Detroit Dry Dock Company in Detroit in 1887 for the Inter Ocean Transportation Company of Milwaukee. Measuring 252.4 feet by 38 feet by 19 feet, she had two decks and three masts. Iron straps crisscrossed her hull under her planking to provide additional strength. Innovative for her time, she had a steel boiler house, steam pumps and windlass, and electric lights. The Inter Ocean Company operated a fleet of wooden steamers and specialized in bulk cargos of grain, salt and iron ore. Hauling ore from Escanaba to Cleveland was a common run. The company gradually upgraded its fleet to steel vessels and in 1898 sold the MANHATTAN and three other wooden steamers to the J.C. Gilchrist fleet for $70,000. The MANHATTAN was the seventh vessel of the Gilchrist fleet lost during the 1903 season. The others were the MOONLIGHT, WAVERLY, SWAIN, CRAIG, A.A. PARKER, and MARQUETTE. All were wooden vessels and, oddly for the Gilchrist Company which made a frequent practice of saving money by not insuring their vessels, all were insured during the 1903 season.
The wreck of the MANHATTAN was sold at auction in 1905 for $1600. Apparently her new owners salvaged her engine, boilers, and the coal from her bunkers, but the burned-out hulk itself was too difficult to move without great effort and expense. The wreck was just on the west edge of the channel and posed a danger to navigation. In 1910 the federal government contracted with Thomas Durocher of Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan to remove the wreck for the sum of $1,900. His method seems to have been to first recover any salvageable material, mostly iron and steel, then knock the hull down.
Due to the actions of the salvagers, as well as the destructive forces of the lake's wind and ice, the remains of the MANHATTAN are widely spread along the west side of the east channel. The shallowest sections, in about 15 feet of water, can often be seen from the surface. Divers can visit a large portion of the steamer's hull framing, including massive timbers and the distinctive iron strapping, in about 25 feet. The vessel's enormous rudder, with its depth markings still visible, lies nearby, along with some of the deck fittings and machinery. Additional portions of the hull can be found farther out in the channel in depths down to 40 feet.
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KIOWA
November 30, 1929
The steel freighter KIOWA was downbound from Duluth to Chicago with a cargo of flax seed when she was overtaken by a fierce north storm accompanied by a freezing blizzard. Soon the ship was coated with several inches of ice. In the midst of the blow, her cargo shifted, giving the steamer a heavy list and allowing torrents of water to pour in through submerged deck openings. Helpless, the stricken KIOWA drifted before the seas.
Panicked and apparently deciding that all was lost, Captain Alex T. Young ordered ten of the crew into one of the lifeboats while the sinking KIOWA was still drifting helplessly northwest of Au Sable Light. The rest of her crew of 23 were left aboard to shift for themselves. During the launching, one of the supporting lines snapped, upending the boat and spilling the men into the mountainous seas. One man was able to claw his way back into the lifeboat, while six others were pulled back aboard the KIOWA. The rest, including Captain Young, disappeared into the foaming water and the icy grasp of death. Meanwhile the KIOWA continued to drift down the Michigan coast. The mate, Arthur Kronk, left in charge by the "abdication" of the captain, tried to keep order among the near-panicked crew. With death staring them all in the eye, it wasn't easy. Through the long, dark night the dying KIOWA drifted on.
The next day, December 1, at 3:15 p.m., the Coast Guard crew at Grand Marais was busy repairing their submarine telephone cable when they heard the Au Sable Point fog signal blowing several long and short blasts, a prearranged call of distress. Dropping the repair job, the Coast Guard crew manned the power lifeboat and headed for the light station. The blizzard had left deep snow drifts, ruling out any attempt at getting there over land. The lake, although storm-tossed and frigid, was still the best route available. At 4:30 p.m. they arrived at the light and learned from the keeper that the KIOWA had fetched up on the reef to the west of the station.
The KIOWA had originally been spotted by Richard Chilson and his son Charles, who were deer hunting west of Au Sable Point. They were waiting out the storm with their small gas powered motor boat pulled safely up on the beach at the Hurricane River when they sighted the stranded KIOWA. Charles Chilson and his hunting partner Earl Howay bravely launched their boat and made their way out to the steamer. With great difficulty in the rolling seas, they took aboard as many of the crew as they could safely carry, landed them at the lighthouse dock and headed back for more. When the Coast Guard boat finally arrived, Chilson and Howay were bringing in their second load of survivors. The Coast Guard took these men aboard their lifeboat, then proceeded back to the wreck and removed the rest of the KIOWA's crew.
The official Coast Guard log is crystal clear in all aspects of the KIOWA disaster except that concerning exactly how the survivors were actually rescued from the ship. The log gives the impression that the Coast Guard crew, after arriving at the lighthouse and learning of the wreck, then proceeded to the KIOWA and rescued the sixteen crewmen. The official telegram to the Commander of the Eleventh Coast Guard District notifying him of the wreck gave the Coast Guard crew the credit, stating, "picked off 16 men from steamer KIOWA, five lost, one body recovered." Whether the ambiguity was intentional to cover the embarrassment of the Coast Guard in "missing" a major rescue is debatable. Regardless, the Coast Guard crew returned to the Grand Marais Station with the survivors at 7:30 p.m. Since local hotel space could not be found, the bedraggled survivors were quartered at the Coast Guard station.
The KIOWA's drifting lifeboat was discovered about 2 p.m. by the Grand Marais fishing tug JOSEPHINE ADDISON. In it was the frozen body of one of the crew. Although the man had regained the lifeboat after it capsized, he couldn't protect himself from the piercing winds and terrible cold. As a result of hypothermia, he froze to death.
There was no immediate respite for the Coast Guardsmen. At midnight on December 2, the station watchman sighted a steamer off the harbor entrance making distress signals. Immediately the station fired a Coston signal in answer, and launched the power lifeboat. Reaching the steamer, which turned out to be the GEORGE H. DONOVAN, the crew was requested to pilot her into the harbor for shelter. The job was completed with dispatch.
At 6 p.m., Dr. Scholtes, the Alger County coroner, arrived at the station from Munising, quickly impaneled a jury and held an inquest for the recovered body. Subsequently it was identified as that of Max Westerberg, one of the KIOWA's crew. The good doctor also gave the survivors a quick examination and determined that two required further treatment and should return with him to the Munising hospital.
On Tuesday the 3rd, the Coast Guard crew took the power lifeboat with the smaller surfboat in tow and returned to Au Sable Light. Since the lake was still rolling, they anchored the lifeboat about a quarter mile out and used the oar-powered surfboat to run the breakers and make a safe landing on the sandy beach. There they took aboard the marooned hunters and one of the KIOWA's crew who had been left behind in the initial confusion. The trip back through the breakers in the small surfboat was very difficult, since the boat and oars had badly iced up in the freezing weather. They all arrived safe back at the Grand Marais Station but had to break ice all the way from the harbor entrance to the Coast Guard dock.
Heavy weather prevented the KIOWA's underwriters from getting out to their vessel until December 7 when a lull allowed the Coast guard to ferry them out to the wreck. Earlier, on the 5th, an attempt was made using the tug ADDISON but she was driven back by a strong northwest sea. After the vessel and her cargo were examined for over an hour, the underwriters and hull inspectors felt both were a total loss in excess of $200,000.
For several years following the wreck, the whitefish population in the Grand Marais area is said to have increased dramatically, since the fish thrived on the flax seed oils and proteins. Local fishermen shipped large quantities down to Chicago markets, which was just as well since the fish reportedly tasted strongly of linseed oil.
Immediately following the wreck, some salvage was made, especially of her useable tackle, deck machinery and other valuables. During World War II, much of the steel superstructure and part of the hull was salvaged for scrap. However, a great amount of the vessel still remains. Lying in only 30 feet of water on a sand bottom, on a clear day the huge sections of hull are easily visible from the surface. Closest to shore and standing the highest off the bottom is the stern of the wreck, lying over on its port side. Here the diver can see the steamer's steering quadrant and emergency steering gear. A short distance forward, an enclosed ladderway leads down toward the propeller shaft tunnel. At the forward end of the tunnel, the propeller shaft and its massive thrust bearing can be seen. The engine once stood in this area, but salvagers and winter's ice have battered it nearly beyond recognition. The surrounding field of engine room debris includes numerous pumps, generators, valves, and piping of all descriptions. Nearby lie the remains of one of the KIOWA's boilers, with its brass and copper fittings polished by Lake Superior's ever-shifting sands. Forward of the engine and boiler spaces, the wreckage consists mainly of hull and deck plating, until the diver reaches the bow of the wreck, some distance to the left of the rest of the hulk. The bow lies tipped up on its stem, with its anchor windlass still in place and the anchor chain spilling out of its chain locker. The forward cargo handling mast lies nearby.
Mate Arthur Kronk's involvement in Lake Superior shipwreck didn't end with the wreck of the KIOWA. On May 27, 1933, he was the mate of the 259-foot passenger steamer GEORGE M. COX when she plowed dead into Isle Royale's Rock of Ages Reef in a fog. Mate Kronk was on watch when she hit and was subsequently blamed during the investigation for not keeping the proper course.
Following the example of the KIOWA's captain, Kronk was also the first man off the COX, leaving in a lifeboat with a single female passenger. Seeing his mate about to depart the vessel, the captain ordered him back, instructing him to make certain his boat was properly filled before leaving. When Kronk left again, he had carefully loaded his boat with 17 souls, all women. Evidently he thought he would be stranded on the island for a long, long time!
The KIOWA was the product of an emergency shipbuilding program started during World War I to provide large numbers of deep-sea freighters to help replace submarine losses. Many were built at Great Lakes yards. Under the program a total of 331 similar vessels were eventually constructed. Although the program continued for a time after the war ended, in 1920 it was canceled, leaving many shipyards with unfinished vessels on the ways. With private financing twenty of these vessels were finished in the hope of selling them at a profit. The KIOWA was one of the twenty. Built in 1920 by the Detroit Shipbuilding Company in Wyandotte for the Independent Steamship Company, she measured 251 feet in length, 43 feet in beam, 24 feet in depth and 2,309 gross tons. The KIOWA was built with four watertight bulkheads, a double bottom water ballasting system, two holds forward and two aft. Although starkly different from a traditional lake vessel in appearance, she was able to trade successfully in package freight and some bulk cargo. The KIOWA was powered by a three cylinder, triple expansion steam engine built by the Detroit Shipbuilding Company. Cylinders were 20, 33 and 54 inches in diameter with a 40 inch stroke. Providing 1,250 horsepower, it was sufficient for a steady nine knots. Dual 13-foot by 11-foot Scotch boilers furnished the steam. Her normal complement was seven officers and 15 crewmen.
The KIOWA and one of her twins, the CAYUGA, were sold to the O.W. Blodgett Company of Bay City in the spring of 1927. The following July 23, the KIOWA went hard aground on a Parisienne Island reef, near Whitefish Bay during a fog. Her hull was badly damamged, costing $30,000 to repair.
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