SS Algoma

SHE SANK SUDDENLY; Further Particulars Of The Loss Of The Steamer ALGOMA. THE MOST TERRIBLE DISASTER IN YEARS.

Forty-Eight Persons Drowned.

Toronto, Ont., Nov. 10. - At the office of the Canadian Pacific here a list of the passengers or crew of the ill-fated steamer ALGOMA, wrecked on Isle Royale on Saturday, was not kept, but it is ascertained there were five cabin and six steerage passengers and 44 or 45 of the crew. The cargo consisted of 134 tons of railway supplies. It is a fortunate circumstance that the ALGOMA was carrying the lowest number of passengers she has ever had.

The Story Of The Disaster.

Port Arthur, Nov. 10. - The story of the disaster, as related by Capt. Moore, is that the ALGOMA passed through the St. Marys Canal, bound for this port, last Friday noon. Soon after reaching Lake Superior the wind began to freshen up from the northwest and a great bank of leaden clouds along the northern horizon denoted the approach of heavy weather. Realizing, however, that the ALGOMA was one of the strongest and most powerful steamers afloat, and well able to cope with even a severe gale, Capt. Moore kept on her course. But as night approached the wind continued to increase in violence and by dark had developed into one of the fiercest and most destructive gales ever experienced on the upper lakes.

A Harrowing Scene.

As the gale increased the sea began to make, and before midnight Lake Superior was lashed into a wilderness of seething foam. While the tempest screeched and howled, great waves swept completely over the struggling steamer.

The situation was made all the more terrible by a blinding snow-storm that set in before morning. It was impossible to see the length of the steamer.

The passengers and crew were terrified beyond measure, and momentarily expected to see the steamer plunge to the bottom. By instructions of Capt. Moore the officers circulated among the passengers, trying to allay their fears They were panic-stricken, however, and huddled together in the cabin, where the screams and prayers of the women and children could be heard above the thundering of the gale.

The Wreck.

Saturday morning the Isle Royals was sighted, and Capt. Moore headed the steamer for Rock Harbor, where he hoped to gain shelter. The Island forms a natural harbor of refuge, but near the entrance there is a dangerous reef, and just as the steamer was nearing the entrance she struck the reef. There was a terrible shock, and then the steamer came to a full stop. The passengers rushed out of the cabin and beseeched the officers to tell them what had happened.

"We are on a reef," replied Capt. Moore, "but if you will only keep as calm as possible I trust all will be safely landed."

Just then one of the crew reported that the steamer's bottom had been punctured, and that she was filling with water.

The boats were at once got in readiness and all started to leave the steamer, but just as they were about to lower them the steamer slipped off the reef and disappeared with an angry roar.

Struggling For Life.

The water was covered with the struggling forms of men and women, and then all was over. Only 14 lived to tell the tale. These got into one of the boats but were powerless to save themselves, as they were without oars. Capt. Moore, however, wrenched a footboard from the bottom of the boat, and with that as a paddle, succeeded in working the boat to the Island, where the survivors were picked up by the ATHABASKA.

Mr. Bentley, the manager of the line, has sent out tugs from here with instructions to search Isle Royale for any survivors that may have possibly got ashore, and to pick up and take care of any bodies that may be found. The tugs are now at the scene of the wreck.

A Terrible Scene.

A special, giving an account of the disaster says the vessel was feeling he way in the fog at a moderate rate of speed, when suddenly a great crash was heard, and the vessel rebounded and quivered like an aspen leaf. "Good God," said the captain, "she's struck. Our doom has come !" Ten seconds later all was the wildest confusion and alarm, while the shrieks of the milder sex were terrible. Crash, crash, and the stout vessel pounded the rocks. The crackling of the timbers and the swaying of the vessel warned all that death in a terrible form was upon them. The relentless wind seemed to scream its satisfaction, while the snow and sleet drove against the half-clad passengers.

"It is no use to describe the scene," said one informant. "Nothing worse ever occurred on earth. In their madness, when the waves were washing the deck, a number threw themselves into the foaming billows. Others, when a great wave would pass off the deck, which was swaying from side to side, were swept into the sea like feathers. A few hurried on to ropes or to the masts, but the majority seemed to abandon themselves in the wild alarm and despair. Even the crew seemed powerless, so stricken were they with the awful suddenness and stupendous character of the disaster. Meanwhile the boat rapidly went to pieces, and

Dashed Against The Rocks.

The crew, all of whom except the waitresses had clung to the rigging, managed during a slight lull in the storm to place themselves in a life-boat, cut the fastenings, and in an instant a wave swept them from the ill-fated wreck. Amid the awful roar of the wind and the terrible dashing of the waves the boat was borne onwards. Two of the passengers had managed to place themselves in the boat before it was cut away from the wreck. Any efforts that had been made to launch boats in the early confusion and horror had failed. Meantime the life-boat and its occupants has a terrible experience on the open storm-tossed lake. All who could, bound themselves to the boat, while the remainder held on like grim death to the sides. Expecting every moment to meet their deaths either by drowning or from exposure and cold, which was intense, the half-dead inmates were borne on. Once the boat was turned over with the waves, and one of the crew washed away, but the frail craft righted itself, and was swept on in the comparative darkness. After half an hour the boat suddenly struck some rocks. The inmates fearing all was over with them, as the craft capsized, but, to their surprise, when thrown out, the water was only a few feet deep, and they discovered that they were on land. After remaining there an hour or more, exposed to the elements, the storm abated, and the sky cleared. It was then discovered that they were on Isle Royale, and that the vessel had been wrecked about a mile from shore on the great boulders that exist near the channel. It was about 10 0'clock in the morning, and the half-dead crew remained there until late in the afternoon, when the ATHABASKA came along and picked them up. They were then taken to Port Arthur."

Lost And Saved.

Owen Sound, Ont., Nov. 10. - So far as known the following is a list of the lost and saved on the steamer ALGOMA:

The Lost.

The Saved.

DETAILS OF THE DISASTER.

The Latest Particulars Of The Wreck Of The Canadian Steamer ALGOMA.

Port Arthur, Ont., Nov. 11. - Nothing has ever created such profound sorrow along the north shore of Lake Superior as the loss of the Canadian Pacific railway steamship ALGOMA. The ALGOMA and her officers were highly esteemed by the people of Port Arthur, and the tearful loss of life occasioned by the disaster has caused countless hundreds to mourn. There was considerable uneasiness felt here during Sunday night when the ALGOMA failed to arrive, but no one supposed that anything beyond an unusually long delay had occurred. The ATHABASKA came in last evening, and the news spread like wildfire that the ALGOMA was lost. A large and excited crowd rushed down to the boat. The report proved to be only too true. In the cabin lay Capt. Moore, commander of the ill fated vessel, terribly crushed and bruised, and in the saloon were the first and second mates, showing plain traces of the awful struggle they had for life with the merciless waters of Lake Superior. Down in the hold were the bodies of two of the men who met an untimely end in their attempts to fight through the surf to the land. Capt. Moore is badly injured by the cabin falling on him, and is too ill to be seen to-day. The first and second mates, Joseph Hastings and Richard Simpson, were also somewhat roughly handled, the former having his feet terribly cut with broken glass and the latter getting both feet frozen.

Of the two passengers who were saved from the wreck of the ALGOMA, William J. Hall seems to have suffered the greatest shock. He lives in Winthrop, near Seaforth, Ont., and gives an account of the terrible disaster similar to that already published. The persons who endured that awful night, exposed to the fearful wrath of Lake Superior's angriest mood, will bear the traces of their experience for years. They looked death too plainly in the face all night long to ever forget the scene; and the mental and bodily strain and agony endured can be plainly noticed in their features. The three men who jumped overboard and succeeded in swimming to shore and rescuing the remainder of the crew and passengers are Hy. Lewis; Stevens, and A. Mckenzie, who was struck by a piece of the cabin and washed over shortly after the ALGOMA struck on the rock, is a nephew of the Hon. Alex McKenzie. He was very popular with all who ever met him and his sad end will be greatly mourned.

A Passengers Story.

William R. McCarter, one of the passengers saved, is 52 years of age. His home is at Meaford, Ont., where he formerly had an interest in the 'Monitor.' Mr. McCarter was on his way to British Columbia with a neighbor named William Mulligan, who was going out there to settle. Mr. Mulligan is among the list of lost. Mr. McCarter gives the following account of the disaster:

"There was a frightful storm during the trip from Owen Sound until late Friday night, when the passengers went to bed. The ALGOMA struck about twenty minutes to 5 o'clock Saturday morning. The shock was a severe one, and the vessel trembled and shivered. I rushed out and saw three or four deckhands rushing aft and waving their hands like people demented. I followed the men and asked what was wrong. They replied that they did not know, but something terrible had happened. A stranger stopped me and said: "This is a terrible occurrence. It is sad to think we must all die here. Let us hope it will turn out all right. This poor man was drowned in less than a quarter of an hour after. The men from down below all crowded upon the higher deck and along the port side. The storm was terrible. The waves rushing in great mountains over the decks, and every few minutes the despairing shriek of some unfortunate persons was heard as they were carried out to sea and lost. The vessel lay broadside to the island, and there was a dreadful surf - an awful sea pounding and beating against her sides. The cabin soon gave way, and the women, children and men were then washed off the boat beyond all hope of safety. A great many persons grew almost crazy and jumped into the sea in the hope of getting ashore We did not know where we were at first, as it was quite dark and there was a terrible storm of sleet and snow blowing in on us. The electric lights went out a few minutes after the boat struck, and the confusion and excitement were terrible.

Brave Capt. Moore.

"The Captain alone remained cool and steady. He showed what a man he really was just then, and did his duty like a man. When it seemed a certain death to run a lifeline along the deck, he seized a rope and strung out the line, telling the excited people to hold on to the rope and not become panic-stricken. High rocks towered up in front of us, and the pitiless sea tried to snatch us in its icy clasp on every other side. In this manner we passed the night, until it was fairly daylight, the waves dashing over us every few seconds and bearing some one away from the life-rope. I was standing between the captain and another man when the cabin came crashing down on the captain and pinned him to the deck. He cried out: "O, I'm done for now, but what will become of these poor people ?" The man on the other side received a severe blow on his head and cried out: 'I'm crushed, I'm gone !" The next great wave carried him off without the slightest struggle, and he went to death without a groan. The night was terrible. No on can ever imagine what the people must have endured. Timbers were falling in every direction. The waves seemed to crush the boat like an eggshell, and ever once in a while a falling stick would be followed by a deep groan, and we knew some brave man had given up the battle. I was dashed several times against the bulwarks and received this cut on my left eye and on the top of my head, but in all other respects I had a wonderful escape.

Dashed To Death.

"Although it was madness to attempt to swim through the angry surf to dry land, several determined fellows made the effort with life-preservers. Only three landed. The others were hurled against the rocks with tremendous force and mangled beyond recognition. I had three years' experience as a sailor on the Atlantic, and knew the benefit of keeping cool at such a time. The stern of the vessel was gradually shoved into the shore until it rested solid. We huddled close together on the steerage deck with a few blankets and spent the whole day in terrible anxiety. No one felt inclined to talk, but we sat and looked with anxious eyes at each other, listening to the awful wash of the merciless waves as they tore along the deck and broke the bulwarks to pieces. The captain said: "Men, let us unite in prayer." And with death staring us in the face we knelt down and the captain prayed for us all. Night came on and there seemed no hope. The sea kept bursting over the vessel. The night was spent in darkness, with nothing to eat or drink. During the night we could hear the captain inquire from the spot where he lay a prisoner to his injuries, "how's the wind, mate ?" and he seemed glad when he was told that it was veering around to the shore side.

A Miraculous Escape.

"Sunday morning, the men on the Island took a life-line from us and brought us ashore on a raft. We sent the captain first and another man to hold him, as he was unable to stand. The island proved to be Isle Royale, and fishermen saw us, invited us to their houses, and kept us very comfortable. We spent Sunday night there and the next morning about 5 o'clock the fishermen brought over their fishing-tug and asked the captain what was best to be done. He told them to intercept the ATHABASKA. They did so, and the officer came over to the island on the tug for us about an hour after daylight."

As Told By The Mate.

Mr. Hastings, the Mate, gives the following thrilling description of the wreck:

"Nothing of any account occurred during the voyage to Sault Ste. Marie. The ALGOMA passed Whitefish Point about 1 o'clock in the afternoon of Friday. The wind was at that time blowing a stiff breeze from the east and northeast. At Whitefish Point sail was made and the steamer proceeded on her way under a full head of steam. The wind kept increasing in violence, and was accompanied by snow and sleet. At 4 o'clock Saturday morning the wind shifted to the northeast and a violent snow-storm raged. The sea was running mountains high and the boat was tossed about like a cork. Fifteen minutes past 4 o'clock the order was given to take in all sail and put the wheel hard a starboard, to bring the ship about, and head out on the lake again, on account of the snow and darkness. When the ship was coming about she struck Greenstone Point, on Isle Royale, about 50 miles from Port Arthur and one mile from Passage Island Lighthouse, which has been abandoned since the 1st, of the month. After striking the first time the boat forged ahead, being driven by the wind. A second shock occurred shortly after the first. The vessel struck the reef violently and she immediately commenced to break up.

Heartrending Incidents.

"Most of the passengers and a number of the crew were in bed at the time, but were awakened by the shock, and the scene that followed beggars description.

Water poured in through the broken vessel and over the bulwarks, putting out the fires in the furnaces and extinguishing the electric lights. Screams of women and children were heard above the fury of the storm. The crew hurried hither and thither, doing what they could in the darkness to render assistance; but their efforts were of little avail, for in less than 20 minutes after the vessel struck, the entire forward part of the boat was carried away, together with her cargo and human freight. Several clung to the rigging and lifeline the captain had stretched along the decks, but were soon swept away and swallowed up by the angry waves. The stern of the boat was steadily pushed upon the rocks, and those who were not too much exhausted with fatigue and benumbed by the cold, crept to the after steerage and sought its shelter. Less than an hour after striking all was over, and but 15 out of 60 were saved.

When the shock was felt he ran down to the Purser's room. He then pushed forward amid the stifling steam and aroused the steward and other employees, as well as the steerage passengers whom he had not awakened on his way down, and conducted them to the forward end. A lady passenger and her daughter were wildly crying in the saloon, clothed in only a thin night-dress. The mate urged upon all the great necessity of keeping quiet and obeying orders. While he was advancing forward with one of the lady's hands in his and holding the little girl with his other hand, a great wave crashed through the cabin, caught the woman and child and swept them out into the lake. Some of the men lost their reason completely and rushed into the stormy depths. About 17 persons followed the mate, and climbed into the rigging. The terrible sea swept the boat and the masts were washed under the waves. Every time they came up there were two or three forms missing. Once the mast made a dip with 10 men and when it came upright again only two persons were seen on it. The next sea swept all the brave strugglers away. One man fought nobly for his life. He was washed off the boat and clung to some ropes. Slowly, inch by inch, he struggled along the ropes, hand over hand, back to the vessel. Every few seconds a wave would hurl him around like a feather, dash him up, and them bury him under a mountain of ice-cold water, but he struggle on, until just a few feet away from the boat, when his strength gave out and he passed away with a wild, wailing appeal for aid.

The Lost And Saved.

Owen Sound, Nov., 11. - A revived list of the lost and saved in the ALGOMA disaster as accurately as can be obtained here:

CREW LOST: J. Malone; H. Gill; John Scott; C. Murray; L.F. Brooks; W. Stokes; George Thompson; Thos. McKenny; W. Henderson; H. McClinton; Thos. Snelling; J. McKenzie; H. Emerson; F. Knight; A. McKenzie; George Pettigrew; A. McDermott; Charles Taylor; A. Mitchell; M.McTarget; W. Gibson; J. Brown; J. Wagstaff; H. Hamson; H. Mortimer; Mrs. Shannon; J. Paddle; H. Brocker and R. Mitchell.

PASSENGERS LOST: Edward Frost, wife and child; Mrs. Dudgeon and two children William Higgins, wholesale merchant, Winnipeg; Charles & Douglas Buchanan, of Hillier, Ont.; Louis Zimmerman, Port Arthur; William Milligan, Meaford, Ont.; G. Emerson, Ramsgate, England.

PASSENGERS SAVED: W.J. Hall and W.B. McArthur.

Total Lost, 65; saved, 14. This makes the full number of persons the Canadian Pacific officials estimated was on board.

The Lost Steamer.

Ottawa, Ont., Nov. 11. - The ALGOMA is registered in the Marine Department as a steel screw vessel, A 1, built in 1883, 262 feet in length, 38 feet wide, 23 feet deep. She was powerfully built and equipped, and marine officials regarded her as fit to encounter and lake storm. The ALGOMA was one of three steel steamers that were built in Glasgow, Scotland, in 1883, for the Canadian Pacific Railway Company. They were brought across the Ocean, taken to pieces at Montreal, and carried in sections to Lake Erie, as they had too great breadth to pass through the Welland Canal. They cost $210,000 each, and were as staunch and strong as steel and the very best material could make them. Their hulls were divided into five water-tight compartments, and the builders guaranteed that if any two of the five compartments were to be opened in free communication with the sea the steamer would still float.

The ALGOMA would compare favorably with first-class ocean steamers, and could accommodate 1,500 passengers and 65,000 bushels of grain. She was of 1,700 horse power and had a carrying capacity of 2,000 tons. The screw measured seven feet in diameter. The vessel could make the journey from Owen Sound to Port Arthur, a distance of 500 miles, in 40 hours. She drew 14 feet of water when loaded and when unloaded seven feet forward and 10 feet aft. She was handsomely fitted up for passenger traffic, containing 60 large state-rooms. In addition to this there were 250 beds provided for steerage passengers, all covered, in the deck-room. The tables had accommodations for about 150 persons.

THE "ALGOMA" GOES DOWN.

Struck In A Blinding Snow Storm.

The C.P.R. Steamer Wrecked And 37 Persons Lost - Port Arthur, Nov. 9 - The steamer ATHABASCA, which arrived this evening, reports the steamer ALGOMA wrecked on Isle Royale. She went ashore 1 mile north of Rock Harbor Lighthouse in a blinding snow-storm, about 4:30 on Saturday morning when on her up trip. The boat is a total wreck. All that remains of her is from the boilers aft.

THE SURVIVORS - The ATHABASCA picked up the following persons, who were all the survivors so far as known: Wheelsman, Henry Lewis; wheelsman, Jno. McNab; fireman, P. McCalger; deck hands, R. Stephens; James Bolton; Daniel Laughlan; waiters, John McLain; George McCall; John McKenzie; passengers, W.J. Hall and A.B. McArthur from Meaford. Capt. Moore is badly hurt. The tug SISKWIT has gone to pick up any bodies that may wash ashore, and secure wreckage. Thirty seven persons are supposed to be lost.

THE RESCUE - The ATHABASCA, which left Owen Sound two days after the ALGOMA, came upon the wreck at Isle Royale and found the crew and two passengers in a perishing condition on the island. The wreck had been dashed by the waves against the rocks and had finally beaten against the shore of the island. The crew and two passengers saved themselves by taking to the lifeboat and battling with the waves until shore was reached. The boat was washed over several times by the waves, but righted again while the men clung to its sides. They succeeded in reaching land, almost dead from exposure and exhaustion. The story continued to rage furiously all night long. The rescued remained on the beach watching the wreck beat against the rock bound island and seeing the dead bodies dashed in the surf against the shore. The ATHABASCA came along about noon today, and as the channel is narrow, could not avoid seeing the wreck and the distress of those on the island. A boat was sent ashore and brought the rescued to the ATHABASCA, which set sail for Port Arthur, where she arrived about seven this evening.

When the above news reached Meaford on Tuesday, much excitement prevailed particularly as it was expected two persons from this vicinity were on board:- Wm. Milligan of 7th. Line, St. Vincent, and Wm. R. McCarter, Printer, and late of the "Monitor" office. The only thing that justified these expectations was McCarter's name appearing among the saved, being one of the two passengers that reached land. These gentlemen left Meaford on Tuesday, the 3rd. inst., to take the steamer ALBERTA to Port Arthur, en route, to British Columbia. It now transpires that McCarter missed the ALBERTA, being in town in Owen Sound when she left. Doubtless Mr. Milligan went on with the ALBERTA, and would there await the arrival of McCarter, who would follow him by the ALGOMA. McCarter was an old seaman, at one time in his life, being engaged in the whale fishing in the Southern Ocean, this very likely accounts for his being one of the two saved, as his knowledge of boating was likely to do him service in the emergency. Further particulars of the disaster will be anxiously awaited.

LATER

By a despatch from Owen Sound, we learn that W.R. McCarter took passage on the ALGOMA, and is among the saved. Milligan without doubt went by the ALBERTA and is safe.

The tug HATTIE VINTON, with about 15 citizens aboard, started out for the wreck site on November 10. The weather was marginal for the crossing, and the captain decided to lay up in the lee of Green Island overnight. The sight of the wreck was described in detail:

"The whole of the after portion of the vessel, from the engine cylinders, with the exception of the upper cabin work, lies about forty feet from shore, listed well over to the port side; and a more dismal looking sight could hardly be imagined. In consequence of quite a heavy swell breaking over the wreck, no attempt was made to board the remains of the once staunch craft, but the whole party at once proceeded to search the shore for the corpses of the unfortunate people who were drowned. The first body was found by Mr. Harry Micholson about seventy-five yards south-west of the wreck, well up on shore, among the debris. A large piece of the upper cabin partially covered the body, which proved to be the corpse of poor Hanson, the wheelsman, who was at his post at the time the vessel struck .... About three hours after the above discovery, one of the surviving waiters, who was with the party, noticed a body lying amongst a lot of wreckage, wedged in the crevice of a rock about forty yards from the stern of the boat .... No other bodies were found, although the search was continued all day."

"A tremor shook the steamer from stem to stem, and a moment afterwards she parted, just forward of the engine [actually, just forward of the boilers-LM.], while the waves rushed in at the vents and over the forward decks. Panic immediately ensued, and all was chaos and confusion. Passengers, who were calmly reposing in their berths ... were rudely awakened by the grinding of the hull on the rocks and the roar of the storm. There was no time, however, to consider the situation. The water poured in through the broken timbers and over the deck, putting out the fires, which soon had the effect of stopping the engines and shutting off the electric light. All was darkness, storm and snow. Daylight was just breaking, but did not afford sufficient light to enable the crew to see where they were .... The steamer had shifted around after striking and was resting with her stern upon the rocks, while the forward cabin and the bow of the boat were fast crumbling to pieces so furious was she being beaten upon the reef. The purser, second mate and steward who were all forward, made an attempt to reach the after part of the vessel, which was now the only place of safety. In doing so they were struck by a large wave, carried overboard and disappeared beneath the surface. Some fishermen sighted them and went to their rescue. After taking in the dreadful situation the fishermen went out and intercepted the ATHABASKA which was then coming up the Lake."

The Wreck of the Algoma

A survivor of the steamship Algoma, wrecked with such terrible loss of life on Lake Superior, says that when the shock was felt he ran down to the purser¹s room. He then pushed forward amid the stifling steam and aroused the steward and other employees, as well as the steerage passengers. Finding the escaping steam almost suffocating, he again rushed up to the cabin, aroused all the passengers whom he had not awakened on his way down, and conducted them to the forward end. A lady passenger and her daughter were wildly crying in the saloon, clothed in only a thin night dress. The mate urged upon all the great necessity of keeping quiet and obeying orders. While he was advancing forward with one of the lady¹s hand in his own and holding the little girl with his other hand, a great wave dashed through the cabin, caught the woman and child and swept them out into the lake. Some of the men lost their reason completely and rushed into the stormy depths. About seventeen persons followed the mate and climbed into the rigging. A terrible sea swept over the boat, and masts were washed clean under the waves. Every time they came up there were two or three forms missing. Once the mast made a dip with ten men, and when it came up right again only two persons were seen on it. The next sea swept all the brave strugglers away. One man fought nobly for his life. He was washed off the boat and clung to some ropes. Slowly, inch by inch he struggled along the ropes, hand over hand, back to the vessel. Every few seconds, a wave would hurl him around like a feather, dash hum up and then bury him in a mountain of ice-cold water, but he struggled on until just a few feet from the boat, when his strength gave out, and he passed away with a wild, wailing appeal for aid. Many of the passengers could be seen on their knees loudly calling for mercy and succor. The waves spared none. They dashed in and around each shrieking form and bore away as their prey with each returning visit dozens of human beings.

John McLean was one of the two waiters saved. He felt the shock when the boat struck and jumped out of bed. He saw the engine had stopped and the electric light were out, while the boat was full of steam. He ran up the hurricane deck and saw the captain blowing off steam, which he continued until all was exhausted. "The captain told us there was no great danger and the safest place was down on the lower decks, We stared to run there when the waves carried away the hurricane deck and we grasped the rigging. The captain passed a life-line along and we hung on to it for eight hours, believing that every minute would be our last. It was dark and freezing cold, with a terrible sea. There were two ladies and three little girls that I noticed. They were swept away with the cabins. We could hear the ladies and girls calling piteously, but no one could help them. After a while their voices ceased, and we all knew they were out in the lake. The cabin went to pieces in ten minutes after the boat struck and only the stern part of the boat was left when we came away. All our clothing was lost. We all owe our lives to the exertion made by the captain. If it had not been for his coolness and prompt action we could not have gone through the first night. I have been on the lake for five rough seasons, but this it the roughest I ever saw."

Captain John Moore:

"The steel steamer ALGOMA cleared from Owen Sound at 4:20 pm, Thursday, the 5th inst, bound for Port Arthur, having on board a general cargo of merchandise of about 400 tons. We had a good run to Sault Ste. Marie, which port we cleared at 1 o'clock on the afternoon of Friday, (6th) and passed Whitefish Point at 3:50 the same day. It was blowing a strong breeze from the east and north west. The wind was increasing. We made sail at Whitefish Point at 7 p.m. The weather was the same, but the wind was slightly increased, with occasional squalls attended with rain. At midnight the wind had increased to a moderate gale with frequent squalls, accompanied with rain and sleet, and a sea getting up. At 4 am [7th] the wind shifted north east with violent snow squalls and a heavy sea running, when we checked down and commenced taking in sail. At 4:30 am all sail was in except the fore trisail [probably fore staysail, cf. notarized statement of Capt. Moore DuJuth Tribune Nov. 13, 1885 ed.], which was partly in, and we put the wheel hard to starboard, and the ship was coming around to head out on the Lake again on account of the snow. After leaving Whitefish Point, our proper course was northwest by west, but the wind being from the northwest, we steered northwest by west quarter west until 10 p.m. to allow for leeway, when the course was changed to northwest until 4 a.m. We then steered west by south for the purpose of taking sail in. While the ship was coming around as mentioned above she struck aft about 4:20 and continued to forge ahead, driven in by the heavy sea. About 4:40 she settled, the seas making a clean breach over her all the time and smashing the ship up. A blinding snow storm continued. On account of the seas that were running and the surf, it was impossible to make any effort to save the ship or cargo, and about 6 am she parted at the fore side of the boiler, and the freight got washed out and some of it was driven ashore."

Mr. William R. McCarter, a journalist and one of the two surviving passengers gave the following account:

"After leaving White Fish Point the wind increased, but the vessel was a staunch one and no fears were entertained, as she stood the storm splendidly. About 9 o'clock on Friday evening, I was on deck, and although there was a heavy wind, the steamer was making splendid progress. The passengers all went to bed, and about twenty minutes to five I felt a slight shock, which alarmed me, and I jumped up. I found a general alarm, and several deck hands rushing aft excitedly. I followed them and asked what was wrong, but they did not seem to know. One of them said, "This is a terrible affair, but I hope it will come out all right." As soon as the hull became fast on the rocks, the force of the waves dashing in fury against it soon broke up the saloon, and it was swept away. I think the women and children never got outside, but were probably drowned or disabled by the waves rushing in, and were carried off with the cabin when it was swept away. The sea was terrible, the waves rushing in great mountains over the deck, and every few minutes the despairing shriek of some poor fellow would be heard as he was carried off and lost. One thing followed another with such rapidity that there was not time to do anything with the boats, and they were swept off with the cabin. The electric lights went out, and it was intensely dark, so that I could only see what went on immediately around me. A great many jumped overboard, and tried to get to shore with life preservers, but only three of them succeeded, the others being dashed against the rocks. The men from below had crowded up on the upper deck, near the stern, although some had rushed forward and were lost. Amidst the terrible excitement and confusion, Capt. Moore was brave and cool.

At great risk to himself he seized a rope, and ran it along as a life line, telling us to hold on to that, and had it not been for it, more of us would have shared the fate of those who were lost. The forward part of the saloon had all gone, but a little piece was standing near the stern, and we were under the projecting roof outside of that. Timbers were crashing in every direction, and we were afraid that the protecting roof would fall on us. The Captain went aft to get a post to prop it up, and as he was coming back, there was crash, and I heard him cry out, "I'm done for — what will become of these poor people?" But he stuck to the post and dragged it along, wounded as he was, though it did not prove of much service after all. When the captain was struck, another man called out, "I'm crushed, I'm gone!" Though I could not see him, those who were next to him said he was carried off by the next wave. Twice when the waves had carried me off my feet and I was nearly gone, Capt. Moore, who was next to me, caught me and helped me up again, saying, "I will save you, old man, if I can." Two of the men had got down by the fender and were holding on there. I asked them how they were doing, when they said it was terribly cold there, I did not attempt to go. One of them gave up and was lost soon after. When it became daylight,we could see the rocks towering up in front of us, close at hand, but with the terrible sea it was impossible to get to shore. We managed afterward to get down to the lower deck, where we all lay, cold and wet, listening to the terrible storm raging, and not knowing but we might share the fate of the poor follows who had already gone. We spent the whole of Saturday night in that position. On Sunday morning the storm had abated, and we descried a fishing tug,which we hoped would see us, but it went away. Near noon, when the sea had calmed, the three who had escaped to shore took a line from us — it was only about 40 or 50 feet — and pulled us to shore on a raft, The captain was sent first, with a man to hold him, as he was unable to stand, from his injuries. The land proved to be Green Stone Island, a small rocky islet off Isle Royale. Shortly after, some fishermen saw us, and took us to their shanty, where we spent Sunday night. On Monday they intercepted the ATHABASKA, which took us to Port Arthur."

Joseph Hastings, the first mate, gave the following description of the wreck:

"Nothing of any account occurred during the voyage to Sault Ste. Marie, the ALGOMA passed Whitefish Point about 1 o'clock on the afternoon of Friday. The wind was at that time blowing a stiff breeze from the east and north east. At Whitefish Point sail was made, and the steamer proceeded on her way under a full head of steam. The wind kept increasing in violence, and was accompanied with snow and sleet. At 4 o'clock Saturday morning the wind shifted to the northeast and a violent snow storm raged. The sea was running mountains high, and the boat was tossed about like a cork. Fifteen minutes past 4 o'clock the order was given to take in all sail and put the wheel hard a starboard, to bring the ship about and head out on the Lake again, on account of the snow and darkness. While the ship was coming about she struck Greenstone Point, on Isle Royale about fifty miles from Port Arthur and one mile from Passage Island Lighthouse, which has been abandoned since the first of the month. After striking the first time the boat forged ahead, being driven by the wind. A second shock occurred shortly after the first. The vessel struck the reef violently, and she immediately began to break up.

Most of the passengers and a number of the crew were in bed at the time, but were awakened by the shock, and the scene that followed beggars description. Water poured in through the broken vessel and over the bulwarks, putting out the fires in the furnace, and extinguishing the electric lights. Screams of women and children were heard above the fury of the storm. The crew hurried hither and thither, doing what they could in the darkness to render assistance; but their efforts were of little avail, for in twenty minutes after the vessel struck the entire forward part of the boat was carried away, together with her cargo of human freight. Several clung to the rigging and lifeline the captain had stretched along the decks, but were soon swept away and swallowed up by the angry waves. The stern of the boat was steadily pushed along the rock, and those who were not too much exhausted with fatigue and benumbed by the cold, crept to the after steerage and sought its shelter. Less than an hour after striking all was over, and but fifteen out of over sixty were saved."

When the shock was felt he ran down to the purser's room. He then pushed forward amid the stifling steam and aroused the steward and other employees as well as the steerage passengers. Finding the escaping steam almost suffocating, he again rushed up to the cabin, aroused all the passengers whom he had not awakened on the way down, and conducted them to the forward end. A lady passenger and her sister were wildly crying in a saloon clothed in only a thin nightdress. The mate urged quiet and obeying orders. While he was advancing forward with one of the lady's hands in his and holding the little girl with his other hand a great wave dashed through the cabin, caught the woman and child and swept them out into the Lake. Some of the men lost their reason completely, and rushed into the stormy depths. About seventeen persons followed the men and climbed into the rigging. The terrible sea swept the boat and the masts were washed clean under the waves. Every time they came up there were two or three forms missing. Once the mast made a dip with ten men, and when it came up right again only two persons were seen on it. The next swept all the brave strugglers away. One man fought nobly for his life. He was washed off the boat and clung to some rope. Slowly, inch by inch he struggled along the ropes, hand over hand, back to the vessel. Every few seconds a wave would hurl him around like a feather, dash him up, and then bury him under a mountain of icy cold water, but he struggled on until just a few feet from the boat, when his strength gave out and he passed away with a wild, wailing appeal for aid, Many of the passengers could be seen on their knees, loudly calling for mercy and succor. The waves spared none. They dashed in and around each shrinking form and bore away as their prey with each returning visit dozens of human beings.

John McLean was one of the two waiters who survived the wreck. His account appeared with the others:

McLean felt the shock when the boat struck and jumped out of bed. He saw the engine had stopped, and the electric lights were out, while the boat was full of steam. He ran up the hurricane deck and saw the captain blowing off steam, which he continued until all was exhausted, "The captain told us there was no great danger and the safest place was down on the lower decks. We started to run there, when the waves carried away the hurricane deck, and we grasped the rigging. The captain passed us a life line along, and we hung on to it for over eight hours, believing that every minute would be our last. It was dark and freezing cold, with a terrible sea. There were two ladies and three little girls that I noticed. They were swept away with the cabins. We could hear the ladies and girls calling piteously, but no one could help them. After a while their voices ceased, and we all knew they were out in the Lake. The cabin went to pieces in ten minutes after the boat struck, and only the stern part of the boat was left when we came away. All our clothing was lost. We all owe our lives to the exertions made by the captain. If it had not been for his coolness and prompt action we could not have gone through the first night. I have been on the Lakes for five rough seasons, but this is the roughest I ever saw."

"It being at this time so pitchy dark one could not recognize another standing three yards away and it was snowing hard at the time. This part of the cabin where Alec was standing [near the kitchen smoke stack stays] was washed away very quickly as the ship had swung around from the time I left the deck until I returned, in all not five minutes. Those of us who were saved had left the forward end and gone aft as the stern had by this time swung inshore and was now sheltered by the bow which on my going below was the sheltered end, the bow now acting as a breakwater for the after end, but she stood for but a short time the heavy seas completely breaking and sweeping over her and each sea washing away portions of the forward end till she was completely demolished forward of the engines and all the cabins gone fore and aft."

ONLY FIFTEEN SAVED; Forty Eight Go Down To Death; Appalling Wreck Of The C.P.R. Steamer "ALGOMA"

The noble steamer ALGOMA which left the canal last Friday, never reached Port Arthur. During a blinding snowstorm she went ashore on Isle Royale and was dashed to pieces, and out of sixty three persons on board, only fifteen escaped One of the number thus describes the rescue on that never to be forgotten 7th. of November morning.

The ALGOMA struck about twenty minutes to five o'clock on Saturday morning. The shock was a severe one and the vessel trembled and shivered. I rushed out and saw three or four deck hands rushing aft and waving their hands like demented people. I followed the men and asked, "what is wrong !" They replied that they did not know, but something terrible had happened. A stranger stopped me and said "this is a terrible occurrence. It is sad to think we all must die here, let us hope it will turn out right !" This poor man was drowned in less than a quarter of an hour later. The men from down below all crowded up on the higher deck and along the port side.

The storm was terrible. The waves rushing in great mountains over the deck and every few minutes the despairing shriek of some unfortunate person was heard as they were carried out to sea and lost. The vessel laid broadside to the island and there was a dreadful surf - an awful sea pounding and beating against her sides. The cabin soon gave way, and the women, children and men were then washed off the boat beyond all hope of safety. A great many persons grew almost crazy and jumped into the sea in the hopes of getting ashore. We did not know where we were at first, it was quite dark and there was a terrible storm of sleet and snow blowing in on us. The electric lights went out a few minutes after the boat struck, and the confusion and excitement was terrible.

The Captain alone remained cool and steady, he showed what a fine man he really was, just then, he did his duty like a man. When it seemed certain death to run a life-line along the deck, he seized a rope and slung out the line, telling the excited people to hold on to the rope and not become panic stricken High rocks towered up in front of us and the pityless sea tried to snatch up in its icy clasp on every side. In this manner we passed the night until it was fairly daylight, the waves dashing over us every few seconds and bearing someone away from the life rope. I was standing between the captain and another man when the cabin came crashing down on the captain and pinned him to the ground. He cried out, "Oh, I am done for now, but what will become of these poor people The man on the other side received a fearful blow on his head and cried out, "I'm crushed, I'm gone." The next wave carried him off without the slightest struggle, and he went to death without a groan. The waves seemed to crush the boat like an egg-shell and every once in a while a falling stick would be followed by a deep groan, and we knew that some brave man had given up the battle. I was dashed several times against the bulwarks and received this cut on my eye and on the top of my head, but in all other respects, I had a most wonderful escape.

Although it was madness to leap through the angry surf to dry land, several determined fellows made the effort, with life preservers. Only three landed, the others were hurled against the rocks with tremendous force and mangled beyond recognition. I had three years experience as a sailor on the Atlantic and knew the benefit of keeping cool at such a time. The stern of the vessel was gradually shoved into shore until it rested solid. We huddled close together in the steerage deck with a few blankets and spent the whole day in terrible anxiety. On one felt inclined to talk, but we sat and looked with anxious eyes at each other, listening to the awful ! swish ! swish of the merciless sea as the waves tore along the decks and broke the bulwarks into pieces.

Before we rolled the Captain up, he said, "Men, let us unite in prayer?" and with death staring us in the face, we knelt down and the Captain prayed for us all. The night was spent in darkness, with nothing to eat or drink.

Sunday morning, and the men on the island took a life line from us and brought us ashore on a raft. We sent the Captain first, with another man to hold him on, as he was unable to stand. The island proved to be the Isle Royale. and fishermen saw us and invited us to their house and kept us very comfortable.

We spent Sunday night there, and next morning about five o'clock the fishermen brought over their fishing tug and asked the Captain what was the best to be done. He told then to intercept the ATHABASCA. They did so and the officers came over to the island in the tug for us about an hour after daylight