Canada Ping!
Posted on 07/17/2015 9:32:06 PM PDT by nickcarraway
Joshua Dewis ran his hand along the hull of the half-brig, freshly made out of reliable Maritime yellow birch. His face broke out into a smile of satisfaction.
It was May 18, 1861 and his shipyard was launching its very first product. It had been a year since the industrious businessman had formed a consortium to establish his venture on the shores of Spencers Island, Nova Scotia and less than that since the keel for his inaugural contract was laid. Joshua waved his hand to the men handling the ropes and yelled out the command to release the craft down the cribbing.
Within seconds the 30-metre, 184-ton brigantine slipped effortlessly into the still waters of the Bay of Fundy. A loud roar of applause went up from the crowd gathered on the beach. Canvas unfurled from the vessel's twin masts – the foremast was square-rigged, while the mainmast was rigged with fore-and-aft sails. The ship was taken on a brief trial run to the nearby port of Parrsboro where it was officially registered under the name “Amazon.”
Dewis never supervised the construction of another ship after that. He is but a footnote in the history books. No one remembers the “Amazon” either. However, under a different name Dewis' ship would go down in the annals of infamy as the world's most famous ghost ship - “Mary Celeste.” Its very name invokes mystery – the disappearance of her crew on an ill-fated North Atlantic voyage is a riddle that confounds historians and nautical detectives to this very day.
Dewis' brigantine was a jinxed ship right from its maiden voyage. Enroute to Five Islands with a cargo of timber, the Amazon's captain and part owner, Robery McLellan, suddenly fell sick with pneumonia. A young and strong man, McLellan appeared perfectly healthy before they set out from Spencers Island. When his condition became grave, the Amazon sailed back to Spencers Island where McLellan died at his home.
His successor, John Nutting Parker, ran into bad luck of his own. During a transatlantic voyage, the Amazon accidently rammed and sank a brig in the English Channel. Afterward, the brigantine worked the West Indies trade routes. In 1863, William Thompson took over from Parker and enjoyed a largely uneventful tenure. Then in October, 1867, the Amazon encountered a powerful storm off the coast of Cape Breton Island and was run aground near Glace Bay.
The damage was extensive. Dewis and his business partners concluded the Amazon was beyond repair and wrote off their losses. It was sold to Alexander McBean from Glace Bay. The wreck was purchased by a New York firm headed by merchant Richard Haines for $1,750. When the half-brig arrived in New York, Haines had it registered with the customs office under a new name - “Mary Celeste.”
With his firm on shaky financial ground, Haines lost his new acquisition in 1869 to New York broker James Winchester. In 1872, the ship underwent a major refit with a second deck installed as well as the replacement of planking on the deck. With no fewer than four companies insuring the vessel, including the New England Mutual Insurance company and Maine Lloyds, one of the major pre-requisites was a safe, seaworthy craft. That autumn, Winchester welcomed three new partners named Sylvester Goodwin, Daniel Dampson and Benjamin Spooner Briggs.
The son of a respected sea captain, Briggs hailed from Wareham, Massachusetts and came with considerable naval experience. He had previously commanded the three-masted schooner Forest King and the bark Arthur. Winchester named the 37-year-old the new master of the Mary Celeste. In October, Briggs arrived in New York to supervise the loading and preparation of the brigantine for his maiden voyage to Genoa, Italy. Joining him was his wife, Sarah Elizabeth, and their two-year-old daughter, Sophia Matilda. Their seven-year-old son Arthur stayed with Briggs' mother in Marion, Massachusetts. For this upcoming trip, Briggs' wife and little girl would be accompanying him.
Briggs was a devouted Christian who strictly abstained from drink and was given to preaching testimonials himself during the odd Sunday service. In 1862, he married Sarah, the daughter of the Reverend Leander Cobb, who ministered at the Congregational Church in Marion. She often sailed with her husband on his voyages and was accustomed to the rigors of the sea and life aboard a ship. Briggs had contemplated leaving the sea and starting a hardware store in New Bedford, Massachusetts. However, he was deterred by his father, Nathan, who suffered major setbacks with his own business venture. Two years before, Nathan was tragically killed when he walked out the front door of his house during a thunderstorm and was struck by a bolt of lightning.
On the East River, the Mary Celeste took on a cargo of 1,701 barrels of raw alcohol, and valued at $35,000, bound for Italian wineries where it would be processed. Briggs was also taking on a good crew. His 28-year-old first-mate, Albert Richardson, was a veteran of the American Civil War from Maine who served in the coastal artillery batteries. Respected as a skilled seaman and a man of high integrity, the experienced Richardson (who previously commanded a ship himself) had sailed with Briggs before and was handpicked for this post by the skipper. A month before Albert had married Winchester's niece, Fannie.
The second mate was 25-year-old Andrew Gilling. Although born in New York, Gilling's family originally immigrated from Denmark. At 23, the ship's cook and steward, Edward William Head, was the youngest member of the crew. Like Richardson, Head was a newlywed. He and his bride, Emma Jane, had just finished their honeymoon when he was assigned to the Mary Celeste.
Rounding out the ship's company were four German sailors who all came from the Frisian Islands, a small archipelago located in the North Sea northwest of Hamburg. Signing aboard the Mary Celeste was Volkert Lorenzen, with his younger brother, Boz. While 29-year-old Volkert was married with a daughter named Ida, 25-year-old Boz was engaged were also married. Arian Martens and his wife were also expecting. The 35-year-old immigrant had moved to New York with two brothers and a sister. Gottlieb Goodschaad was the last to join them.
While there was a flurry of activity on the ship, Briggs sat down in his cabin to study the charts. He took a few minutes to pen a letter to his mother.
“We finished loading last night and shall leave on Tuesday morning if we don't get off tomorrow night, the Lord willing,” he wrote. “Our vessel is in beautiful trim and I hope we shall have a fine passage, but as I have never been in her before can't say how she'll sail. Hoping to be with you again early in the spring, with much love ... Benj.”
The family enjoyed their time in New York. Benjamin hired a horse-drawn carriage to Sarah and Sophia on an excursion through Central Park. The night before their departure, the couple went to dinner at the Astor House in the wharf district with an old friend, Captain David Morehouse, and his wife, Desiah. Morehouse was a native of Digby County, Nova Scotia. He was the skipper of the Dei Gratia, which means “By the Grace of God” in Latin, a new brigantine freshly built the year before in Bear River, a shipbuilding port on the Annapolis Basin.
The Canadian-registered Dei Gratia was moored in New York harbour next to the Mary Celeste. During dinner, both captains compared notes and learned that their respective routes across the Atlantic Ocean were to be similar. Morehouse's vessel was carrying a cargo of petroleum bound for Gibraltar, however, he wasn't to leave for another eight days. As the evening concluded, the two friends shook hands and wished each other a safe voyage.
Over in Brooklyn, Albert Richardson was bidding farewell to his wife, Fannie. In recent weeks, she had noticed a change in him. There was something wrong. Albert more than once expressed a reluctance to go back to sea but he couldn't say why. In the end, Albert was a sailor and his loyalty dictated he couldn't desert Briggs on the eve of a voyage. Slinging a bag of salt pork and freshly baked bread on his back, he kissed Fannie and struck out into the night.
As the sun rose on the morning of Nov. 5, 1872, the Mary Celeste quietly slipped away from Pier 50. A cold rain squall prevented her from leaving New York Harbour. Briggs decided it was too rough to head for the open sea so they anchored off Staten Island for the next two days.
On Nov. 7, a harbour pilot named Burnett arrived from Sandy Hook, New Jersey to steer the ship through the Verrazano Narrows. Once the ship cleared the shallows, Burnett collected his $40 fee and made his farewells. Before climbing aboard a skiff to return to the mainland, Sarah handed Burnett a bag of letters which he promised to mail. Burnett then clambered over the railings and into the boat. He would be the last person to see the crew of the Mary Celeste alive.
One of the letters was from Sarah for her son, Arthur. She wrote: “You are the man of the house now you know. I suppose you have been to meeting and Sunday school today with Grandma and Uncle James. I hope you heard some good things that you will not soon forget ... I think if you remember that verse in your 'First Reader' beginning 'I will not fear' you will not be afraid to go after milk if it is dark.”
Clearing the coastal approaches to New York City, Captain Benjamin Briggs steered the brigantine on a southeasterly course. The Mary Celeste and her 10 human occupants were on their way across the Atlantic.
A few nights later, Fannie Richardson awoke from a dreadful nightmare. She dreamed coming aboard the deck of a large, wrecked ship with white sails. A hideous-looking figure approached her and handed her something that looked like a snake. The ghastly apparition then left her a chilling message saying: “That is part of your husband and is all you will ever see of him.”
The wife of Albert Richardson rose from her bed and walked to the window shaken by what she had experienced. Wrapping a blanket around her, Fannie shuddered as she gazed towards the darkened ocean in the distance and wondered. Was her visions the product of an active imagination or something more foreboding?
Canada Ping!
The explosive is conjectured to have been fumes of alcohol from casks in the hold that had leaked. The proper response was to open all the vents to the hold and to evacuate everyone into a lifeboat attached by a line, returning after enough time had elapsed for the vapors to disperse. Unfortunately, the line parted, stranding the lifeboat on the open seas and leaving a mystery.
Thank you for the Ghost Ship of New Haven. Have lived near New Haven all my life and had never heard that story.
OK. Now you have me hooked. They keep advertising the Mystery of the Mary Celeste on one of the History Channels, and I keep skipping it when I’m setting my DVR. I’ll record it the next time it shows up.
There was no known passenger list but the people at the time, of course, would have known which relatives were aboard. And we do know the Captain's name, Lamberton (?)
Anyway it's a little more special to me because a direct ancestor grandfather to about the 8th generation was believed to have been aboard. His name was John Taylor.
It looks like a distant cousin of mine has put up this page and told the story. It lends strength to my belief that my ancestor was on the ghost ship.
There is a colored portion of the commemorative painting on the page.
A Halloween Ghost Story - The Phantom Ship of New Haven, CT (taylorbakercousins)
Success!
;’)
It’s difficult to reconstruct what happened; the only reason the captain would have ordered abandon ship is rough seas, they were down to one pump, alcohol was in the 3.5 foot of water they couldn’t bail, suggesting leaking barrels, and the weather cleared enough to make taking to the sole lifeboat seem like a good idea. His judgment may have been impacted by the presence of his wife and child.
The only alternative is, they were taken off the ship by pirates — but then, why didn’t they take over the ship? In this case, the answer is, they did take it over. By that time they’d put the captain and crew adrift in the lifeboat, tried their best to get the pump working, figured out the cargo wasn’t actually worth either the risk or the effort, and the ship appears to have been close to the point of needing the breaker’s dock by the time it was christened. :’) So, the pirates abandoned it.
Fascinating. Don’t understand all nautical terms but enough to get jist of writings. Education greatly appreciated
The story of the Lady Be Good inspired a Twilight Zone episode and I believe was the inspiration for the novel and movie Flight of the Phoenix. Had they known where they were they could have walked south to an oasis, but that was the problem, they didn’t know. New in country, they probably thought they were still over the Mediterranean.
For some reason the captain must have thought his situation was more dire than it was. The disassebled pump indicates for some reason it may have failed. Maybe he thought he was taking on more water and leaking alcohol than he actually was and decided to make for land, which was in sight?
UFO. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. ;’)
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