Many books have been written about the Great Storm. Articles have appeared and reappeared in newspapers and magazines in every generation since that time. Even as we approach the centenary of this tragic event, these stories of almost 100 years ago are oft repeated. Each time, there is a new twist or another revelation to help unravel the mysteries of these tragic events that unfolded, without witnesses, and in the absence of any survivors to recount the stories. The tales are probably exaggerated to some degree, and certain facts get distorted or unintentionally misrepresented through the passion of the raconteur. Today, the stories of the storm have found their way onto the Internet and are beginning to show up in the newer electronic media. Video and computer-based productions are presenting gripping accounts with vivid imagery and frightening reality.
Over the years, most of the missing vessels have been located. The most recent, on Lake Huron, was the mystery ship Wexford, the only “salty” in the list of ships lost on Lake Huron. She was found quite by accident in August 2000 by Don Chalmers, who was fishing with a downrigger behind his sailboat, northwest of Grand Bend. Ironically, at the same time, Great Lakes shipwreck aficionado David Trotter of Undersea Research Associates was scanning the depths of Lake Huron, south of Goderich, off Black’s Point, for the same wreck. The American sonar expert had been retained by the town of Goderich’s Marine Heritage Committee to conduct side-scan searches for the Wexford in one of its several reputed hiding places.
There are two wrecks on Lake Huron that remain to be found: the carrier Argus (as footnoted earlier, perhaps it is the Hydrus) and the 550foot (about 168-metre) Canadian-built freighter the James Carruthers. At least one of these is expected to “give up” soon. According to Dave Trotter, “They’ll be found when they are ready to be found, just as their sister, the Wexford, was found in August of the year 2000.”5
The purpose of this work, the culmination of my own personal research and writing, with support from those mentioned in the Acknowledgements, along with many of the more significant anecdotal reports of others, is to tell the story of the Wexford. It will be a combination of historical fact — mostly correct, I hope — and some speculation about what may have happened on her last fateful journey. Perhaps another researcher will alter these stories at a future date, when new information is found — locating her rudder, for example, or parts of her pilothouse, or any of its contents, would be quite revealing. Some of the alternative scenarios of what caused her final demise are hotly debated. I will try to offer a perspective from opposing sides, but we are all entitled to an opinion. If, in my passion for telling a complete story, I have neglected to acknowledge a source correctly, or made any other error, I accept full responsibility, and ask that I or my publisher be notified so that such acknowledgement or correction can be included in future editions.
Dave Trotter and Klein side-scan equipment, searching for the Wexford in August 2000. In his 40-year history of wreck hunting, Trotter has discovered over 90 wreck sites, most of which were marine in origin. He also has been involved in several successful finds after aviation tragedies.
Photos by the author.
The Wexford is shown approaching an unknown harbour. The profile presented here was from her later years, a view seen by many as the vessel made her way from port to port.
Courtesy of Ron Beaupre, National Archives Canada, # 144150.
In any event, I will share what I believe could be true. Only the Wexford, or the spectres of her crew, could reveal the genuine realities.6 With some degree of apology, I will also express a few opinions — mostly related to events in the current century. I trust that I can do so with the necessary diplomacy, so that no person involved in any aspect of the events following her discovery will carry ill feelings or malice about my effort. The truth is that not everything was done correctly, and, at times, spontaneity ruled the day.
There are instances where I have taken some liberties with the manner of presenting certain information. I do want to respect the traditions of sound historical research and writing, but it is sometimes impossible to present certain “missing pieces” without a degree of speculation. For example, we have much “circumstantial evidence” of how the Wexford spent her final hours, but we have no first-person account, nor did anyone witness the terrible struggle that she and her crew encountered before she foundered. We must, therefore, based on a careful examination of the evidence, construct a scenario that we believe most likely to have happened. I have done that with utmost care, yet my own conclusions are that of one observer. Others, just as they have done with the speculations about how the Edmund Fitzgerald was lost (and that debate continues to this day), will offer alternate opinions and no doubt challenge my findings.
As well, the keeping of a personal diary by the captains and many crew members of these ships was a common practice. At least two such booklets were recovered after the Great Storm as the flotsam washed in along the shorelines. In discussions with my late uncle Roy Munday, a laker captain of some 35 years, in dialogue with other mariners, and in respect of my own practice as a sailor — keeping a personal ship’s log for over 40 years — it is almost a certainty that young Bruce Cameron kept such a diary. Yet none was ever found. After due consideration, and my own experience with the challenges of difficult storms, I have constructed a few diary entries that reflect, I am certain, the kind of fear and uncertainty the fledgling master would have experienced.
In respect to the storm itself, I was not there to see it. But I have had my own direct experience with raging tempests that kept me at the wheel of my SolSean for up to 27 uninterrupted hours. In this case, the accounts of this “white hurricane” are best told in the words of those who survived to tell their tales. Out of respect for their observations, and for their astounding anecdotes, I have taken the liberty of including several accounts in their entirety. They may be longer than might be the normally accepted tradition for historical writing, but they are accurate and complete accounts. I beg your indulgence for including these references.
A Note about Numeration, Compass Directions, Spelling, and Visuals
Whether to use Imperial measurement or the metric system (System International or SI) for numeration always presents a challenge in historical writing. Particularly in writing Canadian history, the maritime tradition has always been expressed in Imperial terminology, yet today’s standard is to use the metric equivalents wherever possible. The matter remains confusing. Take the formats used on Canadian Hydrographic Services nautical charts, for example, where water depths are listed in feet, metres, and fathoms, while distances are measured in a complex combination of statute and nautical miles along with standard feet and yards. Wherever possible, for ease of reading, the use of historical maritime terminology has been retained. In all cases where I have quoted from other sources, I have left the measurement units alone. With respect to the historic use of a capital letter to begin the names for compass directions, I have tried to use the contemporary fashion of presenting these words and their variations with lower case letters, but have preserved the manner of spelling, usually with a capital letter, in quotations as they were originally, but not always consistently, made. With respect to the convention of writing out the smaller numbers as full words, I have retained the maritime tradition of using figures in most cases.
With respect to the mix of spelling conventions, between the Canadian and American versions, I have tried to use the variation consistent with the country of origin. When a quotation is made from an American source, I have retained the American spelling. The best example is in the repeated use of the word harbor/harbour. Even in the transcript for the Goderich Inquest, 1913, it is spelled both ways. Both Canadian mariners and American officials testified. In early Canadian newspaper stories, both spellings are used at random, it seems.
Also, by today’s standards, a number of images included in this text would be deemed to be inferior.