Life and Death on the side-wheel steamer Ocean Wave

FreshWater 1992 Vol. 7 No. 1 : by Walter Lewis and Rick Neilson

With the author's permission.

Catching the Wave - A Wreck Rediscovered

The anchor line jerked through my fingers again as I struggled to maintain my twenty-foot decompression depth. Looking up, I could barely see the shadow of the dive boat tossing on the building waves - it was going to be a rough ride back to the Prince Edward county shore. Beside me my buddy Barbara Carson, checked her gauges and clung tightly to the line. In another thirty minutes we would be able to ascend to the surface. Up there it was the fall of 1991. Occasional jets passed high overhead in the sunlight. Far to the south a plume of mist marked the location of the nuclear plant near Oswego.

My eyes and thoughts followed the line in the opposite direction as it faded into the gloom. Down there it was the spring of 1853 – a world far removed from the dangers of falling airplanes and radioactive clouds. Steam was the dominant power source then, but it carried its own risks, risks to which the blackened remains of the Ocean Wave beneath us bore chilling testimony.

We had descended slowly on the dive, both a little apprehensive about what awaited us below. At about 110 feet the last vestiges of sunlight prompted us to turn on our cave lights and the darkness retreated a little from the glare. Almost immediately we caught our first glimpse of the wreck – part of a paddle-wheel lying on its side directly below us.

This meant first, that we immediately knew the identity of the wreck, and second, that our bodies received an extra jolt of adrenalin, for the Ocean Wave is one of the most famous wrecks in Lake Ontario.

Upon reaching the paddle-wheel we realized that it rested on top of the overturned hull. Continuing down we found our anchor snagged on another piece of the paddle-wheel on the bottom, south of the wreck. Finning along the hull we quickly reached the stern, which we were only able to identify by seeing the rudder in the debris.

The hull itself seemed to end in midplank, for all the stern timbers were missing. On the north side a boiler rested on the bottom nearly opposite the displaced paddle-wheel. Continuing along the north side past many of the braces for the guards, a section of timber jutting out led to part of the ironwork for the boiler. Looking underneath the hull here we glimpsed the single-cylinder steam engine. The other paddle-wheel is also partly crushed at this spot, leaving only the outer circumference arcing around the hull. A brass bar, apparently part of the pressure release valve, drooped, half-melted from the intense heat of the conflagration.

Approaching closer to the bow, metal plating fastened to the hull appeared to be covered in "rust-cicles". Silt buildup, noticeable around the stem, partly concealed the two anchors. The overriding impression was one of complete destruction, from the charred timbers to the crushed wheels and scattered machinery. There were virtually no artifacts lying about to tempt a possible souvenir-hunter. Either they were consumed by fire or dumped out when she turned over.

The absence of the stern is a little puzzling. According to testimony at the inquest, the stern was the place where many of the survivors went for shelter from the heat. Was the integrity of the hull so weakened by the fire that the stern broke off when the wreck took its final plunge to the bottom?

Another possibility exists: Newspapers in 1857 reported that the Ocean Wave had been found and that it might be salvaged. Had the early salvors indeed found her and accidentally broken off the stern in attempting to sling her into shallower water? This is not likely, however, when you consider how much publicity was made to salvage a wreck from 150 feet of water, it undoubtedly would have received widespread headlines.

My mind abruptly returned to the present. A quick check of my watch indicated that it was time for the second stage of decompression. After signalling my partner of my intentions I ascended to ten feet and prepared for another long period of the diver's version of snap-the-whip.

Rick Neilson

Good Legends

Good legends have a way of growing in the telling. What better place to start with the legends of the steamer Ocean Wave than with the dean of Great Lakes storytellers, C.H.J. Snider.

"David Dulmage, South Bay farmer, was waked by the light through his bedroom window at 2:00 o'clock in the morning. He routed out his neighbours, and they rushed to Point Traverse, two miles away, through the frozen mud. They pushed off in a fish boat, and found a floating bonfire, wildly charging about, amid the screams of perishing passengers, till, having burned to the water's edge, it sank with a loud roar from its red hot boilers. ... On this last trip she was reported to be carrying the company's earnings for the season--this seems strange, with the season just beginning, in gold and silver, for deposit in Montreal. The legend, losing nothing in the telling, has prompted more than one hopeful in Prince Edward County to prospect for her wreck and try to recover the fire-blistered safe." [note 1]

Willis Metcalfe, one of the next generation of Prince Edward storytellers, delighted in adding rumour to legend. "It is said that the body of the purser of the Ocean Wave was found some weeks later on the shore of Lake Ontario near West Point, by a Mr. Hyatt. A large sum of money was found in his belt to be in good condition.” [note 2]

Between them Snider and Metcalfe offered to the modern treasure-hunting fraternity an irresistible tale, full of sudden danger, dramatic rescue, death and treasure, mixed with the folklore of the local fishing community. A treasure ship hides in Lake Ontario, her gold and silver waiting to reward the salvagers who recover her safe. It lingers in the imagination when most of the other, more prosaic details of the history of the lakes have slipped away. The story has been told a variety of times, (indeed has become a variety of tales!); it is almost a thankless task to attempt to set the record straight.

Construction

The first notice anyone seems to have taken of the Ocean Wave was in the middle of the summer of 1852. There are no accounts of her construction, or of her launch. She was quietly registered on 4 August 1852, an event often associated with the builder's trials. Her shipwright was Edward D. Merritt, one of the most experienced working in Montreal, having built vessels in that port since the 1820s. [note 3]

About the time of her trials a fulsome description of the Ocean Wave's facilities was offered to the public:

"The old fashioned ladies' cabin has been abolished from the lower deck, and the gentlemen's from below. All below is given up to the officers and crew of the boat, and to freight, for the carrying of which she will therefore offer greater capacity than [any] vessel of her inches. Upon the lower deck aft there will be a lounge and smoking saloon for gentlemen. Upon the upper deck is a splendid saloon 150 feet in length, and sixteen wide, with rows of staterooms on each side. Abaft one wheel is a small sitting room for ladies, communicating with the lower deck and the grand saloon, and adjoining it is the cabin maid's room etc. This sitting room is elegantly fitted up with beautiful carpets, lounges, etc. The grand saloon also, is beautifully fitted up, and we had a peep at a fine piano, destined to occupy a nook in it. There are twenty-six staterooms, containing 52 beds, which we inspected and found good and comfortable. Besides, on the opposite side to the ladies' sitting room, there is a suite of two rooms to be fitted up for a family, so that the children and nurses may be within reach of their parents, without passing into the saloon. The saloon has an arched roof, which does away with the necessity of the awkward supports found necessary in other boats. The rests or brackets upon which the roof rests are prettily carved, and between each is a pane of stained glass, the colors of which are so arranged as to produce a beautiful effect. The staterooms and saloons are all ventilated upon a new, safe, and most ingenious plan. Mr. Seaver [James Shearer] has designed and superintended this part of the boat. The kitchen and pantry are commodious and convenient; by an ingenious contrivance the water from the wheel is conveyed into a copper reservoir fastened round the chimnies [sic], from which hot water will be obtained to supply the saloon for washing, shaving etc. without the bustle of running up and down stairs." [note 4]

Paying the bills for all this "magnificence" was John Molson, Jr. Over 40 years after their historic experiments with steam navigation (the Accommodation, 1809), the Molsons still retained interests in some steamers navigating between Montreal and Quebec. Moreover, John Jr. had an ongoing financial stake in the St. Mary's Foundry, where the engines of the Ocean Wave were fabricated. [note 5] The Molson connection was of particular interest in the context of her intended route. With a name like Ocean Wave, one might expect a sea-going vessel, or at least one intended to run through or to tide-water. Yet the Wave was built to the controlling dimensions of the St. Lawrence canals: 174.2 feet in length; 26 ft. in breadth with a depth of hold of 10.6 ft. [note 6] While the Montreal Gazette would describe her as "expressly built for lake navigation", the Ogdensburg Sentinel claimed she was "built to ply between Montreal and Quebec". [note 7] Whatever Molson may have had in mind when he commissioned her construction, it is clear from her dimensions he was keeping the St. Lawrence and Lake Ontario as an option. Given that Molson had never run vessels on the upper river, and indeed was winding down his commitments on the middle St. Lawrence, his competition may well have been forgiven some confusion as to his intentions. On August 4, 1852 (the same day that Merritt signed the builder's certificate) the Ocean Wave's first departure was advertised "for Hamilton" the next day. [note 8]

In just over a month Molson's plans became clear. Having showcased her suitability for the Montreal-Hamilton route, Molson transferred the Ocean Wave's registry to "Edwin C. French of Cornwall". [note 9] But the registry documents fail to make clear that the real money behind the purchase was the Northern New York Rail Road Co. of Boston (not to be confused with the Northern Railway, Toronto to Collingwood).[note 10] The American Northern, recently completed between Rouse's Point and Ogdensburg, New York was part of a larger strategy of New England capitalists to use railroad technology to draw the Great Lakes into the economic orbit of Boston. [note 11] They thought along the same lines as the promoters of the Atlantic and St. Lawrence Railroad (Portland, Maine), or indeed those behind the merger which created the New York Central in 1853. The Northern (or the Ogdensburg line, as it was known around the lakes), supplied French with three promissory notes dated 8 Sept. 1852 for $14,666.66 each, payable at three days, one year and two years. These provided the collateral for the mortgage given by Molson to French on the 11,000 purchase price.[note 12] How did French enter into all of this? He was the Station Agent at the Ogdensburg end of the line. [note 13]

That the railroad was involved in the purchase was generally advertised. Just a day after the sale was consummated, the Kingston British Whig offered a dire warning of a "serious incursion into the Forwarding trade". It noted the purchase of the Ocean Wave together with the Boston (then at Quebec) and the charter of the much smaller George Frederick running on the Bay of Quinte. [note 14] If the sale was no secret, why use Edwin French "of Cornwall" as the point man? The answer lies in a desire to keep the Ocean Wave in British registry. Two equally compelling reasons may be offered for this. First, the navigation of the St. Lawrence was still not open to American vessels (and would not be until the ratification of the Reciprocity Treaty of 1854). Consequently, if it was considered useful to send the Wave to Montreal, she needed to remain in British registry. [note 15] But the raison d'être of the Northern Railroad was to forestall shipments to Montreal, so it is likely that this was not the chief consideration. More to the point, the American registry laws virtually prohibited the purchase of foreign bottoms for the American flag fleet.[note 16] Thus her British registry was almost certainly not, as would later be alleged, a ploy to avoid more stringent American safety regulations.

In buying or chartering vessels to form its own steamboat line, the Northern Railroad was following the lead of the Michigan Central Railroad, which since 1849 had run the palatial Mayflower and other vessels between Buffalo and its own tracks at Detroit. Unquestionably the most ill-starred of the Michigan Central's vessels was the chartered Atlantic, which sank with hundreds of passengers on board in the early morning of 20 August 1852, only a couple of weeks after the trials of the Ocean Wave.[note 17] The vessel that sank the Atlantic was the propeller Ogdensburg, one of the new propellers belonging to the Northern Transportation Company, a line of freight boats running from Ogdensburg to Chicago which had been formed only the previous season, apparently owned independently from the railroad. [note 18]

While the Northern New York line had little specific interest in the railroad steamships of the upper lakes, it was vitally interested in bringing freight and passengers to its Ogdensburg wharves. Indeed the opening of this line was generally credited with dramatically shifting the pattern of the Lake Ontario trade away from Oswego. [note 19] But they were hardly in a position to rest on their laurels. The completion of the Rome and Cape Vincent Railroad in the spring of 1852 threatened to intercept trade at the entrance to the St. Lawrence River and draw it south to New York. Indeed, the following year that competitor, using essentially the same registry dodge, would acquire the Champion, Highlander and the Mayflower (formerly the Comet). [note 20]

In the meantime, the Ocean Wave and her new line mate, the Boston, began in the fall of 1852 to run from Ogdensburg to Hamilton, a route she would pick up in the spring of 1853. [note 21] One particularly spectacular cargo was given extra publicity that fall. On Saturday, the 13th of November, she delivered to Ogdensburg a cargo of some 1538 barrels of flour for transfer to the railroad. Nothing moved on Sunday. Not until Monday morning would they begin unloading the flour, and loading 264 tons of freight (in 2992 packages). She was under way by 8:00 p.m. The upbound freight was consigned to major ports like Toronto and Hamilton, way ports like Cobourg, Port Hope and Oakville, and back communities like Stewarttown and Georgetown. [note 22]

The following spring, the company announced that it would use the Ocean Wave and the Boston in a weekly line running between Ogdensburg and Hamilton. The emphasis on freight in their plans is evident in their declaration that "part of the time, these steamers will be employed in tugging the fleet of schooners chartered by the company from Ogdensburg to the foot of Lake Ontario." That they might be kept well employed at this was the objective of the railroad's agents who, early that spring, were actively chartering all the schooners they could around the lake. According to one source, for example, they had succeeded in chartering nearly all those owned in St. Catharines. This action, it was predicted, would serve both to bolster freight rates over the course of the year, and secure much of the freight for the Ogdensburg and Boston railroad (as the Northern New York was often called).[note 23]

This emphasis on freight is hardly surprising considering that the established American lines on Lake Ontario already ran several first class steamers into Ogdensburg including the Northerner, Cataract, Niagara and Ontario. At the same time, the Bay State and New York had been formed into an Express Line to run from Ogdensburg to Lewiston (via Cape Vincent and Toronto) in connection with the railroad. [note 24]

By late April 1853, the Ocean Wave had had a career of less than six months on the lakes. Already there had been hints of trouble. Sparks had often been seen flying out of the door used for cleaning the boiler (itself encased in felt). On her very first trip, the felt lining encasing the steam-drum had caught fire. Fortunately, there had been a fire company on board who had been able to pour over 50 buckets of water on_the flames and cut away the burning felt. [note 25] At first glance, a second incident had seemed much less ominous. About one o'clock one morning in the spring of 1853, the purser, Thomas Oliver, noticed a spark catching hold on the hurricane (upper) deck. He quickly doused it with water from a fire bucket kept nearby. When later questioned, the first mate was generally dismissive of the event. "It could hardly be said she was on fire," he said. [note 26] No one would say this the next time.

The night of 29-30 April 1853.

Many errors have crept into the published accounts of the burning of the Ocean Wave. What follows is a reconstruction of events based on the best sources available: the testimony of the crew and passengers of the Ocean Wave and the crews of other vessels in her vicinity offered under oath to a magistrate or before a coroner's jury within a few days of the events in question. Together they represent thousands of words of evidence which, while widely available for many years, do not appear to have been seriously pieced together before.

The Ocean Wave left Hamilton early in the morning of 29 April 1853. About Port Darlington [Bowmanville] she was passed by the Magnet, also bound down the lake. The Magnet had already cleared Cobourg by the time the Wave was backing out of Port Hope harbour and all who knew the two vessels would have been slightly amused at any suggestions of the Wave racing to catch up, as some historians have suggested. But as Captain Wright ruefully noted, the Ocean Wave at best could do nine or ten miles per hour loaded as she was. The Magnet regularly cruised at over twelve and was capable of more. [note 27] At ten o'clock on the evening of the 29th, Cobourg a couple of hours behind them, the Magnet a was at least ten or eleven miles ahead. [note 28] Anywhere on the lake that night, the Magnet could have seen the sparks from the Ocean Wave's chimneys behind her. Anywhere, that is, but as the vessels threaded their way past Point Traverse and the False Duck Islands.

The Ocean Wave had relatively few passengers aboard, thanks largely to the general reputation of the Magnet one of the Royal Mail Line steamers. In most of the accounts that followed, the name most prominently mentioned was Mrs. Stevenson, the wife of the manager of the Bank of Montreal's Hamilton office. She was travelling down the lake with her infant daughter, two sons and their nurse. Also aboard was Mrs. French, the wife of station agent Edwin French, the ostensible registered owner of the steamer. Among the other passengers were Captain and Mrs. Kuyer, Mr. Lyman Fiske, and a Mrs. McDonald, all of Ogdensburg. No one was too clear on who else was aboard: Richardson, "a colored man, on his way to [Kingston] with apples"; O'Dyle, an Irishman from the rear of Brockville; an "old Scotch gentleman" whose name no one remembered. Indeed, the purser (whose job it was to know) could not tell the number of passengers aboard. At one stage there was reference to some fourteen cabin (first class) and nine deck (second class) passengers but only sixteen of these were ever identified in any fashion. At best, Mr. Oliver recollected that a number of passengers had come on board at Cobourg. They had probably missed the Magnet which had passed up about an hour ahead of the Wave. Not one could be identified. [note 29]

Two different accountings were offered of the freight bill. The Rouse's Point Advertiser (probably quoting some source in the railroad) said there were about 2500 barrels of flour and 400-500 packages of butter. [note 30] The Globe was more precise and detailed in its account: "1800 barrels of flour, 64 barrels of pearl ash, from 60 to 80 barrels seed, 300 kegs butter, and some hogsheads of hams, besides way freight. [note 31] However many barrels of butter were aboard, they proved a major ingredient in the disaster. Through the course of the evening of April 29th the steamer worked her way down the lake and around Prince Edward County. The captain, Allison Wright, had been with the vessel throughout her short career. He had been up both the previous nights. Despite the fact that this was the watch he usually shared with the second mate, Wright had gone to bed about 10:30 p.m. Unable to sleep, he had left his state-room and was sitting in the saloon reading the ‘Toronto Patriot. [note 32] The first mate, Robert L. Forsyth, was off watch and had gone to his bed shortly after the vessel left Cobourg. Up on the hurricane deck, the second mate, George Potter, stood watch with the wheelsman, James Stead. [note 33] The purser, Thomas Oliver, was sitting in his office on the main deck. James Turnbull, the first engineer, was also awake and attending to his duties. [note 34] Probably at least one of the firemen was stoking the boilers with cord after cord of the hardwood she was burning on this trip up the lake. One of the waiters was on duty in the main saloon on the promenade deck. Most of the rest of the "hospitality" staff (the steward, the cooks and the waiters) were asleep, as were the off duty deckhands. With the ship scheduled to dock in Kingston in the early hours of the morning, these members of the crew could look forward to being up before dawn preparing breakfast and shifting freight. Their arrival at Kingston, however, would be delayed.

Standing by the wheelhouse, the second mate happened to glance back over the hurricane deck. Framed by the two massive paddlewheels, the walking beam rhythmically rocked back and forth. At one end a rod connected to the piston rose out of the depths of the ship; at the other, the connecting rod plunged back down to the crank that turned the shafts of the paddlewheels. Potter thought he could see something around the connecting rod.

"What light is that?" he asked the wheelsman. Without waiting for a reply he strode aft across the deck. Almost immediately fire puffed up through the opening in the deck. Just as the purser had done with the small deck fire earlier that spring, Potter sprang to the nearby fire buckets and immediately emptied two or three on the fire - to no avail. Potter needed help and he knew it. He ran forward to the wheelhouse and blew several blasts on the whistle to alert the crew. [note 35]

Nearly every survivor dated their actions relative to the sounding of the whistle. Even Philip and David Dulmage, on Point Traverse at least two miles away, were startled out of their sleep. Their dogs started barking fiercely. Looking out their windows they saw what every sailor fears: a ship on fire. [note 36]

Having sounded the alarm, Potter hustled down to the crew quarters to alert them to the danger ... unnecessarily as events proved. Captain Wright immediately ran on deck, saw the flames and began shouting "Fire"! As the first mate ran by Wright ordered that the boat be run ashore. Forsyth shouted to the wheelsman to starboard his helm (which would have had the effect of turning the vessel to port, the direction of Point Traverse). Stead responded to the order by giving the wheel a turn or two, when suddenly it felt like something had jammed the steering chains. Stead jumped on the spokes in an attempt to loose the wheel but to no avail. Nor, he discovered, could he now centre the wheel and the Wave continued to turn. Meanwhile, the first mate, pausing not at all, tried to help Potter get the ship's boats in the water. They were already aflame. Within five minutes the entire surface of the hurricane deck had ignited and the crew were forced overboard with whatever pieces of jetsam they could lay their hands on. The lifeboats blazed away on their davits. [note 37]

Meanwhile, the captain had gone inside and was ringing the engine bell for "stop engines," a rather remarkable action if he had been truly serious about running her ashore. In fact, it proved out of the question as the wheelsman was driven from the wheel by the flames. Emerging on the main deck aft of the engine house Wright called to the upper deck: "For God's sake, men, let's get the boats down!" Attempts by the first engineer and the captain to stop the engine proved unsuccessful. Within a couple of minutes, it stopped by itself. [note 38] In the interim, the two officers and one of the passengers, Lyman Fiske of Ogdensburg, had attempted to work the fire engine on the main deck. But the fire had much too strong a hold in the fresh, oil-based paint that covered the walls and decks of the Ocean Wave. They quickly abandoned their efforts as a bad job.

Gathered on the main deck by the gangway were the purser and a number of the passengers. Oliver, awake in his office, had been passed the alarm by Turnbull, the engineer. In the engine room they "saw the fire coming down amongst the machinery, as if it was following the oil." [note 39] His first concern was for the passengers in their staterooms on the deck above, but the saloon was wildly ablaze. He continued climbing up the outside netting in time to join the futile struggle with the burning lifeboats. Descending again to the main deck he met some of the passengers by the port gangway. Mrs. Stevenson's night dress was in flames. Oliver beat it out with his hands. According to the captain, Oliver recommended that they make a raft for the ladies. Meanwhile, behind them, men were seizing planks and barrels and throwing them overboard. Oliver jumped overboard with Mrs. Stevenson, who was holding her infant daughter in her arms. Nearly hysterical, she had been unable to get into the room where her sons had been sleeping. In the shock of hitting the water she lost her grip on the baby girl. Although Oliver was too modest to admit it afterwards, one of the mates noted that he couldn't swim. Fortunately for him someone threw him a plank. Unfortunately it hit him on the head. He went under. On surfacing a second time he again struck the board again. The third time up he caught hold of it and was able to paddle his way around to the stern of the vessel. According to his watch (on Toronto time), it had been 1:15 when he had heard the alarm, and at 2:00 he had reached the dubious safety of the rudder. [note 40]

By this time, less than fifteen minutes from Potter's soul-wrenching blast on the whistle, all of those who would survive were in the water or clinging to the outside of the steamboat. Captain Wright, first mate Forsyth and the first engineer Turnbull were all on boards, barrels (or, in the captain's case, a carpenter's trestle) somewhere between the flaming wreck and the shore. Stephen Blackman had drifted, in his estimation as much as a quarter mile from the steamer before the wind drew the steamer down upon him. Like the purser and some others he secured his planks to the rudder and prayed for help.

Already by the rudder was the second mate. Potter decided the neighbourhood was becoming too crowded and swam around to the paddlewheel. As he did he saw Mrs. Stevenson adrift on her plank. Fearing her death from exposure in the icy spring waters he drew her over to the wheel and helped her climb up out of the water. Ironically, the fire burning fiercely inside the hull helped provide warmth to those clinging outside. As he and Mrs. Stevenson dried off, the mate gave some further thought to the security of their perch. If the pillow blocks were to burn off, the wheel might well collapse into the water. He may have observed the situation of some others. The main deck extended well beyond the limits of the hull, the outer reaches being known as the guards. Supporting the guards were a series of braces clamped to the hull. Potter worked his way onto these. Mrs. Stevenson clambered up behind him. Hours passed with the flames roaring mere inches away on the other side of the hull. When the outside of the paddlewheel housing fell away they plunged back into the water onto this makeshift raft. Not far away lay the mast, projecting over the side of the burning hull. Potter was able to manoeuvre over by the ship's bell and began ringing it.

Indeed his first actions, as we have already noted, had drawn some attention. The Dulmage brothers on Point Traverse, together with a couple of their neighbours, James Gallagher and Thomas Wall had seized a fishing boat and struck off for the blazing steamer. On shore their wives built a bonfire to serve both as a beacon and to warm any chilled survivors. By the time they had gotten one and a half to two miles out from shore they were hailed by Captain Wright, found passenger Thomas Perry on a plank and another young man wearing the only life preserver to appear in this whole tale. Fearing the effects of the cold water they pulled back to shore but the young man died of exposure before they could get him to the warmth of the beach fire. Returning again they plucked the first mate from the water. But even though the Captain knew the Engineer had been drifting in his vicinity, Turnbull was nowhere to be found. By this point dawn was breaking and the Dulmages could see other vessels near the smoking ruins of the Ocean Wave. [note 41]

Captain John Belyea of the Emblem had been on watch in the small hours of the morning as his schooner worked her way up the lake under a double reef. About 1:30 a.m. he thought he saw a fire on shore. The sound of steam "blowing off" captured his complete attention. He ordered the reefs shaken out and made the best speed he could towards the stricken steamer. At first all the crew of the Emblem could see was the fire. Were the passengers and crew safe beyond the circle of light? As they bore up before the mass of flames the crew suddenly distinguished shrieks and cries coming from beneath the inferno. Belyea's account captures a sense of the awful scene:

"On going near he discovered a number of people clinging to the braces under neath the guard, and to the paddle-wheels and rudder, while the flames were roaring over their heads, shooting high into the air, and curling down into the water, forming an arching canopy of awful grandeur around the devoted beings; while the water all around was hissing, boiling, and foaming, with the intense heat, like a mighty cauldron. ...the roaring of the flames and the crashing of the falling smoke-pipes and mast at this moment, completed the horror of the scene. There being five hundred kegs of butter on board, it added fuel to the flames, and, melting, ran in flaming torrents over the sides of the vessel, smoothing down the water on the lee side. [note 42]

They hove to to windward and lowered the boat. From their position, most of those still surviving appeared to be under the guards - under, in fact, the mass of flames. On their first approach the Emblem's crew netted only a couple of swimmers. Realizing the impossibility of running right in under the fire, they turned quickly back to get some heaving lines, ropes long enough to cast in close to the ship, that people might grasp and be drawn to safety. Not realizing their intent, and mad with despair, some flung themselves into the water and tried to swim to the receding salvation. They sank.

As the Emblem’s boat crew returned to their mission, a second schooner, the Georgiana out of Port Dover, appeared. While Georgiana worked to get its long boat into the water, the Emblem’s crew was out casting. Each time the line was heaved in close, three or four would lunge at it. Not all made it.

Mr. Terroll, the second mate of the Georgiana and two of his crew rowed the long boat around to the lee of the wreck. Passing the stern they found nine people hanging near the water's edge: the purser, seven passengers and one who was already dead. Tom Oliver (who couldn't swim) refused to be taken off until all his passengers were securely aboard the long boat. They were taken to the Georgiana. There, Terroll and his crew secured their heaving lines before returning to the inferno. They made two more expeditions, netting three passengers the first time and two others the second.

In the meantime, the captains of the two schooners found themselves in their own heated discussion, their two vessels having drifted together. Captain Belyea leaped across to the deck of the Georgiana in the confusion and offered to take the survivors back to Kingston. According to Belyea they had agreed his was the faster sailer. Captain Henderson of the Georgiana thought simply that Emblem was bound for Kingston while his course had been set for the Welland Canal. [note 44]

By sunrise, about 5:30 a.m., the Dulmages and their neighbours took a long look around the vicinity and set in for shore again. The crews of the Georgiana and Emblem were busy transferring all the survivors they had gathered into the latter schooner.

To no one's surprise more than their own in the days that followed, the most controversy would cling to the actions of the next arrival on the scene, the propeller Scotland. The Ogdensburg Sentinel rendered a hasty, if widely circulated, verdict on the actions of the Scotland.

"All accounts from the survivors agree that [the Scotland] passed without rendering any assistance, when those on board knew the danger, and inquired the name of the burning boat. Too much censure cannot apply to such unfeeling wretches as those in command of the Scotland. ... Nor should the cruel conduct of the dastardly wretches who refused succor to the drowning victims, and to those suffering the excruciating tortures of fire, be suffered to pass without the severest reprehension. No severity of language can express the indignation which must be felt by every man with a human heart in his bosom, at hearing of so cool a disregard for human life. We trust the name of the monster will be given to the public, as of one unfit for civilized society, much less to be trusted with the protection of human life. [note 45]

At times, the coroner's inquest into the events of that night almost appeared to be directed towards determining the guilt or innocence of the crew of the Scotland rather than elucidating the cause of the conflagration. In response to the furore sparked by the Sentinel, the crew signed a joint affidavit that they had left Kingston about 12:40 a.m. bound for Hamilton. Within the hour, while still only to Nine Mile Point, they noticed a light in the direction of the Ducks, then still some 20 miles away. With a working speed of only about seven miles per hour, it took until after 4:00 a.m. before they could distinguish that the fire was on the lake and not Point Traverse. By sunrise they were on the scene and discovered for themselves what the Dulmages, and the crews of the Emblem and Georgiana had already decided: there were no more people in the water near the wreck - at least, not on the surface. At this stage they came about and caught up to the Emblem, which was busy sorting out people and preparing to hoist sail. [note 46]

Coming across Emblem’s stern, the mate of the Scotland, Henry Wilson, shouted "What was the name of the vessel?"

On the answer turned much of the dissatisfaction expressed in the newspapers. The crew of the Scotland swore that they heard no reply, and that Captain Belyea had turned away. Captain Belyea, in turn, insisted that he had answered, "I think there may be some still between here and the shore." As the Scotland turned to continue down the lake, Oliver asked Belyea whether he thought he had made himself heard. [note 47]

Meanwhile according to John Cousins, the purser of the Scotland, Captain George Patterson was using a telescope to carefully search the waters around the wreck and in towards the shore. Patterson said he could see clearly and that there was no one still floating in the water. [note 48]

As the Scotland turned to go, the fire on the Ocean Wave finally reached the waterline. With little more than her paddlewheels, and a section of stern still left, she slid quickly beneath the waves.

In the light of sunrise a third schooner, the Leander, Capt. Wallace drew up to the scene. Wallace spoke to Belyea who repeated his concern for those who might have drifted off in the darkness towards the shore. [note 49] Remember, none of those still out on the lake had seen the Dulmages doing their work in the darkness between the fire of the burning steamer and the signal fire on the shore. After searching about closer to shore, the Leander concluded that there was no one left to save and sailed out of the story again. [note 50]

Meanwhile, shortly after dawn, the Emblem finally set sail for Kingston. Aboard were purser Thomas Oliver, second mate George Potter and ten of the crew. Subsequent accounts indicated that there had been 23 passengers: 14 cabin, 9 deck passengers. Only five survivors were named: Mrs. French, Mrs. Stevenson and Captain and Mrs. Kuyer had stayed by the wreck. Thomas Perry was rescued by the Dulmages. The purser couldn't tell how many were gone; he wasn't even sure how many had come aboard at Cobourg! [note 51]

Investigation

The story of the Ocean Wave doesn't end with the relieved and grieving survivors sailing off into the sunrise. It was one of the worst disasters on Lake Ontario to date and answers were demanded to a variety of questions. What had the Scotland been up to? But finding the sailors aboard the Scotland guilty or innocent was only secondary to the real question at hand.

The editor of the Ogdensburg Sentinel struck quickly home at the key problem.

" ... being a vessel of British bottom, [the Ocean Wave] was not subject to the judicious steamboat law operative on vessels on this side [of] the line, in respect to floats and preservers, nor can we gather, from all the accounts we have yet heard of the calamity, that she was in the least supplied with life preservers, and other conveniences to aid sufferers to keep afloat, in a catastrophe of this kind." [note 52]

The question was one of responsibility:

"If our inference that she was not thus furnished is correct, no amount of apology will shield the owners from the justice of the severest censure, nor excuse the wanton and criminal neglect. They rest under a fearful responsibility, for it is more than probable that, had the vessel been properly equipped in this respect, the list of unfortunate victims would not have been so long, nor so many hearth-stones rendered desolate" [note 53]

What had the operators of the Ocean Wave done in terms of passenger safety? She carried two life boats on her upper or hurricane deck, common practice at the time. But, as one Kingston newspaper would point out, they were very difficult to get at. [note 54] There were no steps leading to that deck. The purser had climbed a netting to the upper deck. Indeed, many of her contemporaries appear to have even had a permanent ladder. In this case the problem was not access to the lifeboats (the crew had reached them), but rather that they were quickly destroyed by the fire.

The Ocean Wave carried a variety of fire fighting equipment. On the main deck there was a "fire-engine". How exactly this apparatus was supposed to work was not clear. Did it rely on steam from the main boilers? How did you bring it to play on a fire on another deck? In any event, it didn't work. Despite the desperate ministrations of the engineer, the captain and one of the male passengers, the fire engine accomplished nothing. It was located next to the engine room and the kitchen, [note 55] the highest risk locations on board. But with virtually all night time illumination being supplied by open flame of one sort or another, the risk of fire was spread throughout the sleeping quarters and saloons. In any event, the Ocean Wave appears to have burned from the top down, and any effort to use the fire engine was futile. The balance of the fire-fighting equipment consisted of a series of buckets scattered about the vessel. The ones on the hurricane deck had been brought into play by the second mate at the onset. They obviously made little impression on the conflagration, spreading as it was under the deck. With the crew speculating that the fire was the result of hard cinders blowing out of the chimney, the question was naturally asked, had the Ocean Wave no screens to prevent these sparks blowing out onto the deck? Captain Wright's answer was that there were screens at the top of the chimney, and dampers as well, but that somehow the sparks had escaped. What was never answered clearly is how a spark light enough to be drawn up the chimney would not have blown overboard in a wind strong enough to require the Emblem to reef her sails. [note 56]

Awkward questions were also asked about the watch kept on board. The mate of the Magnet, James Malcolmson, said that it was customary on board his vessel to have one person on duty to look after the lights in the Saloon, Mail Room Office (the Magnet was in the Royal Mail Line), Cabin and elsewhere. [note 57] Captain Wright argued that, in fact, he had had four men on duty besides the special watchman. [note 58] He didn't expand on what the other duties of these men happened to be but he may have had in mind the mate and wheelsman in the pilothouse, the engineer in the engine room, and the waiter on duty in the main saloon. Certainly the coroner put the principal blame on the inadequacy of the watch being kept, but his jury was reluctant to pin the blame on those crew who had died in the conflagration and were thus not in a position to excuse their actions. [note 59]

Perhaps the most serious concerns were over the absence of alternative methods of preserving life. Only one person appears in the story wearing a life-preserver. Indeed this may well have been a fatally poor choice on his part, as he died from exposure shortly after being reeled in by the fishing boat. [note 60] The rest of those who survived used a mixture of planks and barrels, and in the case of the captain a carpenter's trestle, to stay afloat, or else they swam around to where they could get a grip on the rudder or the braces.

What was then to be done to prevent another such disaster? The Globe, ignoring evidence that some screens were in place, demanded immediate legislation to compel their usage. [note 61] If Captain Wright was correct in saying that screens were installed, perhaps the answer was more explicitly that such screens needed to be routinely inspected to ensure that they were, in fact, still secure. The fire earlier in the season is the first clue that the Ocean Wave may have sustained some damage to her screens, perhaps over the winter.

The final say in the matter went, not to the coroner's jury but to the legislature of the Province of Canada, then in session in Quebec. One of the stories in the Toronto papers had Henry Sherwood, a leading Tory of the day, at the last minute deciding not to take the Ocean Wave down the lake on his way to attend the current Parliamentary session. [note 62] In itself, this was a wise choice as the Magnet left Toronto later, and in any course of events would have arrived in Kingston sooner. One of the pieces of legislation to which the Legislature was giving its attention that term was a bill with the inelegant title of "An Act to amend the Act, intituled, An Act to amend an Act, intituled, “An Act to compel Vessels to carry a Light during the night, and to make sundry provisions to regulate the Navigation of the Waters of this Province." First introduced in the Legislative Assembly the previous September, so low was it in terms of priority it had yet to be considered by the Legislative Council. On June 10, with the end of the session in sight, it made a brief appearance, was amended by the Council, passed back to the Assembly, amended again, and passed back to the Council. It was absolutely the last piece of business conducted by the Legislative Council on June 14, 1853 before its members were summoned to the Assembly where the Governor General (obviously without seeing the bill) gave it Royal Assent.[note 63]

The provisions of this act went directly to the heart of the safety problems identified in the Ocean Wave incident. They required at least one metal, fire-proof lifeboat capable of "sustaining" 50 people either inside or clinging to life-lines secured to the gunwales. There must be life preservers or a float for every passenger on board, which must be kept "in convenient and accessible places". No reference was made to the crew in this regard. A way must be provided for passengers to escape to the upper deck in case of fire or other accident. Finally, the legislation permitted orders-in-council regulating the numbers of passengers permitted on vessels. While these regulations were not unknown in other waters, they would not come soon enough to help the innocent victims of the Ocean Wave disaster.

Treasure Ship?

Despite her rather ordinary circumstances, rumours of fabulous wealth on the wreck of the Ocean Wave still persist. Run to the ground, there are two major stories linking the Wave and money.

The first arises from stories told by some of the first salvagers on Lake Ontario. The story appears to have its origins in newspapers on the American side of the border:

"The Divers on Lake Ontario"
"The Rochester Union learns that a party of divers are now engaged in recovering the cargoes of sunken steamers in Lake Ontario. The propeller J.W. Brooks, which went down in a gale with all on board, has been found in eighty feet of water, three miles from False Duck light and an anchor was put on board to hold a buoy. The water was so cold that the divers could not work, so the wreck is to be towed into twenty feet water, and the cargo of pork, flour and copper removed.
The divers have also found the wreck of the steamer Ocean Wave, which was burned four years ago, and placed a buoy over her, and will look after her remains when the Brooks has been taken care of. The propeller Boston and other vessels lie at the bottom of the lake, which should claim the attention of these divers." [note 64]

What this story tells us is that the divers probably had not been on the Ocean Wave yet. They had probably been dragging the bottom and stumbled across another hull in what they thought was approximately the right place for the Ocean Wave. They certainly were not in a screaming rush to dive on any fabulous treasure, otherwise why were they wasting their time fishing up barrels of pork and flour from the Brooks? The Kingston version of this story omitted any reference to copper. Admittedly, who else was likely to be capable of recovering anything from the Wave?

Despite this relatively casual approach to reporting and pursuing the Wave, about a month later a second story surfaced.

"The Ocean Wave: Successful attempts have been made this last Spring to find the location of this steamer which was burned to the water's edge and sank off Long Point in the Spring of 1853. She lies in shallow water between three and four miles from the shore: the depth of the water has not yet been made public though we believe it has been ascertained. It is said to contain a large amount of money; and it is also supposed that bodies of the unfortunate passengers who did not leave the wreck are still remaining. Some means will now be found to raise her from the water; principally on account of her engine works which were new and valuable, and the money." [note 65]

Virtually every piece of verifiable information in this piece is utter rubbish. The wreck is not in shallow water. She is significantly further out from shore. Any bodies of unfortunate passengers who didn't get clear of the wreck are likely to have been completely incinerated by the heat of 300-500 barrels of burning butter. Often the interest in the passengers on board lies in the carriage of hundreds of emigrants westward with their worldly possessions secured about their persons or in the ship's safe. As we have seen, the Ocean Wave was headed in the wrong direction, too early in the season. On the other hand, the engines were perhaps worth something in the 1850s; even the scrap iron in those years would have been valuable. Much of this was still imported from British ports in the 1850s. Finally, the note adds "... and the money" without offering a clue as to its source. Given the rest of the fallacies in the piece, they may simply have assumed that there might be "some" money in the safe.

Why would they have been thinking that? Perhaps the best reason lay in the news surrounding the wreck of the Atlantic, which as we noted earlier, sank in Lake Erie the same summer that the Ocean Wave began operating on Lake Ontario. The Atlantic had been carrying large numbers of emigrants who had had large sums of money with them. She had additional sums of money in her safe. Within weeks of her sinking the wreck had been located. [note 66] By 1857, several expeditions had been outfitted, and divers had descended to her decks. Money had been found. [note 67] "Why shouldn't other wrecks be equally as fruitful?" the American divers on the Brooks might well have thought. If there is one flaw in this whole process of thinking (apart from the greed that blinds rational thought) it is that the Atlantic sank before the Ocean Wave. Indeed divers were on the Atlantic before the Ocean Wave burned. At least four vessels were in the vicinity of the Wave as she sank. Moreover, the purser was aboard two of those vessels at some point. Maybe he wasn't absolutely sure how many passengers he had aboard, but there is no reason to believe that he didn't know what was in his own safe! If there had been anything especially valuable about what these men saw sinking, given that elsewhere on the lakes salvage operations were being considered, why would they not have placed a marker on the wreck? The obvious answer: they did not feel that there was anything seriously worth salvaging.

The second story is even more intriguing. Coming as it does from someone who spent most of his life around the shores of Prince Edward County, it probably had a particularly strong influence on the shape of the local legend. This version is taken from an account in 1910.

"Sixty years ago the steamer Ocean [Wave] took fire in the course of her trip down Lake Ontario, and went to the bottom off Long Point. James Hyatt, after an unavailing attempt to save some of the survivors of the disaster, found the body of Lyman B. Fiske, a wealthy Bostonian, who had evidently jumped overboard."

Fiske's partner, a man named Humphrey, came over from Cleveland as soon as he had learned the news, and offered Hyatt a reward of $100 for the possession of the body. The latter readily complied, and signed away his right to claim any of the dead man's personal effects. Thereupon Humphrey extracted from Fiske's pocket 36 one thousand dollar bills, and transferred them to his own wallet.

Mr. Hyatt affirms that, according to the law at the time, he was entitled to half of the money found on the dead man, $18,000. But he had signed away his claim, and the wealth that had been within his grasp was now the possession of another. [note 68]

One detail mars an otherwise good story. Hyatt was never identified as one of the rescuers in the detailed investigations after the fact. This, however, may simply have been the assumption of the reporter producing the story. Lyman Fiske was aboard the Ocean Wave. In the tales of the survivors, he was last identified attempting, with the captain and the engineer, to use the fire engine. He was also identified as being a member of the firm of H.S. Humphrey of Ogdensburg. [note 69] The moral of this story, from Hyatt's point of view, was that one should look through dead men's pockets.

If Hyatt's corpse [sic. typo for 'Fiske's corpse' - Ed.] had had that much money stashed in his pockets, why wouldn't the ship's safe yield equal riches? So confident did many become of this, that on one anniversary of the fire (in the teeth of the Great Depression), it was said "A considerable amount of gold was in the ship's safe which has never been recovered." [note 70] Nor is it likely to be. In the fall of 1991 and the spring of 1992 two separate teams of divers searched the wreck of the Ocean Wave. Neither found bodies, safes or significant amounts of small artifacts.

The Ocean Wave, like so many other shipwrecks around the world, is an archaeological site. Its charred timbers, boilers and cylinder are testimony to the craft of nineteenth century shipwrights and engine founders. She is also a grave site perhaps to be visited, always to be respected. The waters in which she lies are both very cold and very deep - much too deep for recreational diving. If there was a legacy offered by the fire it lies in the safety legislation already before the Legislature - a bill intended to save lives. Let us hope that in the future more lives aren't lost among the weekend "treasure seekers" looking for gold amidst the butter and flour of the Ocean Wave's cargo.

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