Page 22. MAINE COASTAL NEWS February 2014 HISTORY FROM THE PAST - Bangor Daily Commercial - Early 1900s Continued from Page 21.


fi ve days and nights in a rowboat with no food but sea biscuit, and which concluded with a rescue from cannibals, constituted the exciting fi rst few months of wedded life experienced by, Mrs. Elwell, of Melbourne, Australia, wife of Mate Elwell of the burned ship ROANOKE, Capt. Edward A. Watts, who was in command of the ill-starred ship SHENANDOAH, which sank off the Solomon islands, has returned to St. George, Maine, with the startling story of this adventurous honeymoon. Mr. and Mrs. Elwell, none the worse after these exciting events, have returned to Melbourne. To Mate Elwell these things were but incidents of his profession, but to the young woman he met and married while in port it is like a nightmare. She says that her real honeymoon will begin now that she has got back to dry land. When early in August, the bride stood on the deck of the ROANOKE, the big Sewall four-masted bark, at Melbourne, waving good-bye to her friends on the dock, she little anticipated what was before her. Good wishes were exchanged, handkerchiefs waves, and the trading vessel sailed out of port as so many hundred others had done. It was a fair clear day, the sky cloudless overhead, and the waters blue beneath. When land had faded from sight, and the boat stood out to sea, she was as happy a bride as ever left that port.


The passage to Numea, where they were to load with chrome ore, used in tanning, was uneventful. It was a journey almost 2000 miles through tropic seas, and at least this part of the journey was all the lovers had anticipated. Only those who have sailed long weeks at sea know what it means to have even one woman on board. BURNING OF THE ROANOKE. They reached the harbor of Numea, on one of the islands of the Australian group. The harbor here is made by a half circle of coral reed. The entrance is a dangerous one, broken by reefs and shifting sand banks, but these were passed and a safe anchorage made.


The time passed pleasantly until that fateful day when she heard the cry of “Fire,” and saw the ship in fl ames. In spite of valiant work by crew and natives, the old ship burned to the waterline. Luckily at this time her sister ship, the SUSQUEHANNA, came to this port on the same mission, to secure a cargo of chrome. Capt. Edward Watts, in command, extended aid to all, and when he sailed away took with him Mate Elwell and his bride. On August 19 they fi nished loading and sailed for Delaware breakwater for orders.


WRECK OF THE SUSQUEHANNA. He fi rst night out they struck heavy


weather, a fi erce gale and a heavy sea running. The vessel began to break up. She rose upon a nasty sea and came down heavily. At 12 o’clock that night there were 12 inches of water in the well, and at 2:30 p.m., the ship had made 23 inches. Capt. Watts ordered steam on the engines, and brought the pumps into use. The weather moderated some, but a sharp sea was still running. At 4 p.m. they wore ship and stood in for land again, but the vessel was rolling to such a degree that the boilers of the steam pumps kept blowing and one was soon rendered useless. At 5 a.m. the captain decided that it was impossible to get back to New Caledonia, and the wind heading off a little, he kept her free again.


Although the pumps were going at full speed, the water was gaining at the rate of three inches an hour. Saturday morning at 4 o’clock the main shaft of the pump broke,


and while an endeavor to repair it was being made the water gained 11 inches. It was a fi ght for life now against the merciless water, which rose inch by inch. All hands were at work and even Mrs. Elwell, although getting her full taste of the other side of a sailor’s life, and well frightened, did what she could to help. It seemed like a hopeless struggle. The ship was listed two feet to port. As the bow sank, the heavy sea swept over the deck, carrying away rails and all loose timber. The water in the well rose, and the list to port became more marked. It looked as though the sea had won the fi ght.


The captain called all hands aft and ordered out the three lifeboats. There was no panic on board, the crew behaving splendidly. The water was divided between the three boats, and the only food which could be secured was a short allowance of sea biscuit. After the boats were launched each man was called and ordered to his place.


Capt. Watts says: “My boat was the last to leave the ship’s side, and when she did so the chain bolts of the SUSQUEHANNA were in the water. Owing to the prevailing southeast winds, it was impossible to beat back to New Caledonia in the open boats, and so I ordered the boats to head for the Solomon islands, some 500 miles away. The only provisions we had were water and biscuit, for there was no time to hand out anything else. We saved absolutely nothing except the things we stood in.”


It was only when the boats were ordered that Mrs. Elwell showed for a moment the weakness of her sex. Worn out from the long hours of watching and the hard work, she dropped to the deck in a faint. There was no time to revive her, and so she was made fast to a bow line and lowered to the boat, her husband waiting to take her. In a few minutes she recovered, and that was the last time she gave evidence of even physical weakness. AN OPEN BOAT IN A HEAVY SEA. The prospect was enough to frighten even the hardly sailors, who were used to more or less of this sort of thing. There were ten of them in an open boat, 500 miles from land, in a heavy sea and with scant provisions. Even were they successful in reaching the islands for which they were headed, the prospect was nine too inviting. The inhabitants were barbarous people, known to be hostile and known to be cannibals. Their only hope after reaching land would be to pacify some tribe, and remain with them until a trading vessel came along. This might not be for a year. The remainder of the crew had embarked in another boat, and were soon lost from sight. Capt. Watts headed his boat west northwest, running before the heavy sea and wind. The frail craft was tossed about like a cork upon the waves. That fi rst night which swooped down upon them was a terrible one. The water broke over the aides, half fi lling the boat each time. Every one, including the half-exhausted bride, was forced to utilize every implement that would hold water, and bail.


Reaching down into the boat, they scooped up what they could, and threw it over into the billowing darkness surging about them. But no sooner did they lower a few inches the water they had shipped than another wave swept over them, and they shipped as much. It was the old fi ght they had had on the larger boat all over again. Mrs. Elwell fi nally fell, exhausted, and was made as comfortable as possible in the stern. Though drenched to the skin, she fell into a sound sleep, while her husband remained awake to bail, not for his own life, but for hers.


When morning broke the gale had


moderated somewhat, and they were still afl oat. The bride awoke to fi nd six men sleeping in the last posture they had assumed before dropping off into what was more a stuper than sleep. The others were still bailing mechanically, half of them raising their dippers but a few inches and pouring the water back into the boat. Her husband, with drawn face and dulled eyes, was the only one who persisted to any advantage. His eyes fi xed on her, he lifted each time a full dish of the salt water, and poured it back over the sides, fi ghting to the last the demon sea which seemed bent upon claiming his bride for itself.


What followed was even worse, the long days of waiting, the long, slow fi ght with hunger and thirst. Here was an enemy even more ruthless, more intangible than the sea.


The pale, frightened face of this woman, who sat with disheveled hair by her husband’s side, was enough to control these sailors. It was just as instinctive to protect her as it was to save themselves. They were men, and she was a woman; that was enough. LAND SEEN AFTER FIVE DAYS. For fi ve long days and nights these ten men and the women sat in this open boat, at the mercy of the cruel sea. Each day the pain and the fi ght grew more acute. The woman grew weaker and weaker, but in proportion seemed to grow more cheerful. While these men sat silent, staring straight ahead of them, immovable, fi ghting grimly, she cheered them up as best she could with snatches of song and with womanly nothings which are meaningless and comforting. At her side, his arm about her, sat her husband, staring even more grimly than the others at the expanse of waves – those waves looking like fi erce brothers, which sank and then rose again, as though to peer over the sides to see if these frail beings were still there. It was at the end of the fi fth day that they sighted San Cristoval, on of the Solomon islands. Though half dead, they dared not land. The captain knew the treacherous character of the natives, and so, within sight of food and water, they were forced to heave to and wait through another long night. Some of the men were for leaping overboard and running the risk of a swim to the shore and a fi ght with the natives on the chance of quenching their thirst. They sat on there in the boat like babies, sobbing in vexation at being foiled in their wish. The tension was relaxed, and in a few hours, from men fi ghting like men, they became but querulous children. The woman remained the same, helping the captain to persuade them to the wisdom of his course. When day broke they cruised up the shore, and there – saw the ketch RUBY lying at anchor. Capt. Kehoe took in the half-crazed unfortunates and did for them as only a brother sailor knows how. They were revived in a few days, and, though still weak, were able to get aboard the ketch LUENEWA, Capt. Svensen, and were taken to Gavatu. There they remained seven weeks. While there they were surprised by the landing of a trader with the crew of the other boat, which had been picked up. It was quite as wild a story the second mate had to tell as their own. They had landed on one of the Solomon islands, and were kindly treated until their supply of tobacco gave out. Then the old chief died, and the superstitious natives thought that in some was the arrival of the white man had caused this. One of his sons, who was friendly, warned the second mate that the head-hunters of the tribe were coming down to kill him, and that he had better leave. So they made their way up the coast, suffering terrible hardships until picked up by the trader.


From Gavatu Capt. Watts and his reunited party went by steamer to Sydney, and from there sailed to San Francisco, and so on home to St. George, in the state of Maine. But Mate Elwell and his wife started back to Melbourne, and to the house waiting for them.


Surely no sailor’s bride ever had a wilder experience at sea than this plucky woman, who will not admit even now that she is sorry for being a sailor’s mate.


13 February 1906 Thomaston Schooner LOCKWOOD Blown Ashore


Norfolk, Virginia, February 13. – The schooner which stranded near Pea Island, North Carolina, proves to be the JENNIE LOCKWOOD of Thomaston, Maine, bound from Boston to Brunswick, Georgia light. Capt. Hawthorn and his crew of six men were rescued by the life savers in the breeches buoy after great diffi culty. The schooner is reported high and dry on the beach but is in fairly good condition. An unidentified three-master, light


went ashore Tuesday at Lynn Haven inlet inside the Virginia capes. The Cape Henry life savers have gone to the scene.


22 March 1906 6-Master at Mack Point


The above cut shows the six-masted


schooner WILLIAM L. DOUGLAS discharging a cargo of 5800 tons of coal for the Great Northern Paper Co., at Mack Point, the coal terminal of the Northern Maine Seaport railroad. The WILLIAM L. DOUGLAS is the largest sailing vessel that ever came to this part of the country and also brought the largest cargo of coal ever brought into the Penobscot River. The DOUGLAS is discharging at the coal wharves of C. H. Sprague & Son, of Boston, who have charge of the discharging of vessels at Mack Point. The length of this coal wharf is 501 feet and the wharf is 40 feet in width. The discharging berth on the eastern side of the wharf is 300 feet long and there is a mean depth of 23 feet there at low water. The DOUGLAS with her 5800 tons of coal aboard drew 26 feet, 10 inches of water but had no diffi culty in getting into her berth and discharging her cargo. The berths at the wharves will be dredged to make them even deeper than they are now.


C. H. Sprague &Son have every facility for handling coal with the greatest ease and expediency and the way the big scoops take the coal out of the hold of a vessel is enough to make the ordinary observer sit up straight and take notice. These big scoops take the coal out of a vessel at the rate of a ton a minute and when both the scoops are working a big hole is made in a vessel’s cargo in short order. There will probably be more than 150,000 tons of coal discharged at Mack Point during the coming season to go up over the Northern Maine Seaport road and up the Bangor & Aroostook to Millinocket, Brownville and other points.


23 March 1906


Storm King’s Toll of Lives 85 Known Dead in New England’s Coast Wrecks This Winter


Vessels and Crews Missing


Severe Season for Mariners – 54 Vessels Lost; 37 of Them Were Sailing Craft. Boston, March 23. A grim toll of 85 lives in 54 ships with property mounting into hundreds of thousands of dollars in value is a partial record of the payment exacted by the storm king along the coast of New England and the maritime province for the winter just offi cially ended. These are, of necessity, only partial satisties. The list of


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