Steamer Ea ~ 15 March 1902

“Everything went well until the morning of Saturday, the 15th, when in trying to feel our way through a thick fog we grounded on a sand bar off Cape Lookout Lighthouse. The sea was smooth at the time, and I immediately ordered full speed astern, but it was no use, and the Ea did not budge. At high tide we tried to get off again, but the attempt, as in the first case was to no avail, and the Ea remained hard and fast. Monday the gale was still raging with unabashed fury. On this day our water tanks burst and we were without any drinking water. The Alexander and Algonquin were still trying to get to us, but found the feat impossible owing to the rough sea and our perilous position.” ~Captain W.V. Garry



Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1902:

Stranded during thick weather on Lookout Shoals, moderate SE. wind, rough sea. The vessel was dimly sighted through the mist by the lookout at 3.30 p.m., and the lifeboat at once pulled to the position indicated and searched for several hours, but owing to the thick weather prevailing could find nothing, and returned to the station at 1.35 a.m. of the 16th. The keeper had telegraphed the revenue cutter Algonquin, and she arrived early the morning of the 16th, towed the lifeboat out, and succeeded in locating the wreck. The tug Alexander Jones also arrived, and later the wrecking tug I.J. Merritt. The stranded steamer was surrounded for several hundred yards by high and dangerous breakers that rendered in impossible for any boat to reach her, and the steamers and life savers stood by through the night waiting for a chance to rescue the imperiled crew. On the morning of the 17th the lifeboat was towed by the wrecking tug as near as possible to the wreck, but council was held on board the tug and it was decided that no boat could live in the breakers. Another night was spent in anxious watching, and at daylight on the 18th it was seen that the Ea had broken in two. The sea still ran high, but the wind had shifted and was flowing from N., making the chance of boarding somewhat better. It being impossible to breast the wind and sea from leeward, the lifeboat was towed to windward and pulled through the weather breakers to the wreck. Meantime a boat had launched from the Ea and passed through the lee breakers in safety, carrying 17 of the crew. At the first trial the lifeboat missed the wreck, but a second attempt was made, and the remainder of the ship’s company, 10 men, was brought safely through the breakers, thus completing the rescue of all hands, 27 in number. The shipwrecked people were taken to Morehead City, NC, by the revenue cutter Algonquin. The steamer and cargo proved to be a total loss.

Wilmington Morning Star
Tuesday, March 18, 1902

Morehead, March 17, 1902 - The unknown steamship on Cape Lookout Shoals will probably go to pieces tonight. It is impossible to reach her on account of high seas and winds. The life saving crew have tried in vain to rescue the crew. While the Merritt tug was en route to Cape Lookout it picked up supposed famous yacht Columbia with mast and jib boom gone and stern broke in. The crew are all save and at Cape Lookout Shoals.

Wilmington Morning Star
Wednesday, March 19, 1902

A Spanish Steamer Off Cape Lookout Shoals

"Ea" is Name of Hitherto Unknown Vessel Which Went Ashore Near Beaufort Saturday Morning

Total Loss with Her Cargo (Special Star Telegram)

MOOREHEAD CITY, N.C. March 18 - The United States revenue cutter ALGONQUIN arrived here this evening with the crew of the Spanish steamer EA, 1694 tons, of Bilboa. Capt. Y. Garary. She sailed from Fernandina, Fla. on March 13th with 2,500 barrels rosin and 2,500 tons phosphate and was en route to New York to finish taking on cargo. When off Cape Lookout shoals she encountered a heavy fog and struck the outer Diamond on March 15th, at 9:30 a.m. On account of high seas and brisk winds, no assistance could be rendered by the life saving crew until this morning about 9 o'clock, when the crew was rescued by the life saving crew of Lookout station, with the assistance of the United States revenue cutter ALGONQUIN and several tugs.

The steamship broke in two yesterday and until this morning the crew was on the bridge with nothing to eat or drink, hoping to be rescued. In the meantime the sea fell and having but one boat, only managed to take part of the crew aboard the ALGONQUIN. Captain Gaskill of the life saving station rescuing the remainder. The twenty-seven men in the crew were all saved, but are badly weather beaten. The steamship and cargo are a total loss.

The above special received last night by the STAR is the latest news from the unknown steamer which has been ashore off Cape Lookout since Saturday, and about which there was so much inquiry in shipping circles yesterday. the EA appears to have had bad luck ever since she left her home port, Bilboa, on Jan. 26th. She arrived at Philadelphia Feb. 21st, after having encountered heavy weather during the voyage. The steering gear became deranged and slight damage was done to her decks. After repairing she left Philadelphia in charge of a new master, Capt. Garary, on March 3rd, and arrived in Fernandina March 7th. It was while returning to New York Saturday that she encountered the latest ill wind, which put her to pieces.

Schooner Ida Lawrence ~ 5 December 1902

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1903:

Steering gear disables and vessel came to anchor off Ocracoke lighthouse and hoisted signal of distress. A surfman from Hatteras Inlet discovered her and carried the news back to the station, when the crew put surfboat on the wagon and started alongshore, arriving abreast of the vessel at 4 p.m., after a hard journey of about 14 miles. Finding that she had hauled down her signal and was lying quietly at anchor, they unharnessed their horses, which were tired out, and remained in the vicinity all night. Meantime the wind came out in a strong SW gale, with rough sea, and, upon repairing to the beach early in the morning, the surfmen found the schooner dragging to the northward and eastward along the shore. They followed her for 5 miles, when the surfman who had been left in charge of the station met them with the tidings that a disaster had occurred off Hatteras Inlet, and, as the Lawrence had brought up on her anchors, they returned to the station to investigate the report. About 9 a.m. the master and crew of the Lawrence, eight men, became alarmed, abandoned their vessel in a boat, and, being unable to land, were driven by wind and sea towards Cape Hatteras. They were sighted by the crews of Durants and Creeds Hill stations, who followed them along the beach, and by the Cape Hatteras crew, who signaled them to land in Hatteras Bight. When the boat struck the breakers, she filled, but the surfmen from the three stations rushed in and rescued the crew and hauled their boat up on the beach. They were supplied with clothing from the stores of the Women’s National Relief Association, and succored at Cape Hatteras station until next morning, when the surfmen transported them to Durants, and the crew of that station carried them across the inlet. They boarded their vessel, but found her leaking, and therefore beached her. They were succored at Hatteras Inlet Station until the 10th instant. The vessel became a complete wreck, and was, with her appurtenances, sold at auction.

CAPE HATTERAS, NORTH CAROLINA, December 5, 1902

“This is to certify that the crew of the schooner Ida Lawrence landed in the breakers on December 5, 1902 and were met and pulled out by the crews of Cape Hatteras, Creeds Hill, and Durants stations, who did all in their power for our comfort. James CAMPBELL, Master, G.G. Kerwin, First Officer, J.B. Wilkinson, Steward.”

Schooner Ida C. Schoolcraft ~ 1 July 1902

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1903:

At 1.30 a.m. this schooner stranded on Core Bank, 1 mile NE. of station and 300 yards offshore. The keeper employed a volunteer crew (inactive season) and pulled out to her. She was fast aground, and at the request of her master the surfmen returned to the station and sent telegrams to Beaufort for tugs to come to her aid. At 5.30 p.m. they again boarded her and took off her crew, with their baggage, landing them at the station, where they were succored until their departure for Norfolk on the 9th instant. The wrecked craft was surveyed and condemned on the 8th instant, and afterwards stripped of spars and rigging, the hull being abandoned.

Barkentine Olive Thurlow ~ 5 December 1902

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1903:

This vessel anchored in Lookout Bay, about 2 miles W. from station, on the evening of Dec. 2, and early the next morning hoisted a signal of distress to which the life saving crew promptly responded in surfboat. They found that the master had broken his leg and desired to be taken ashore. The keeper requested permission to shift the vessel to a safer anchorage, but his request was not granted, and he took the master ashore and sent him to Beaufort for medical treatment. On the morning of the 5th the wind came out WSW. With hurricane violence, the vessel dragged her anchors, and at 4 a.m. struck the outer reef, finally becoming a total wreck in Lookout Blight. The cook John Chaulkley, was killed by a falling spar, and the rest of the crew, 5 men, were swept overboard by the terrific seas, but were all rescued by the life savers, who rushed into the surf to their aid, then took them to the station, supplied them with dry clothing from the stores of the Women’s National Relief Association, and succored them for two days. Two of them were seriously injured, and medical assistance was procured for them. (For detailed account see caption “Loss of Life”, also see letters of acknowledgment.)

Wreck of the Barkentine Olive Thurlow

The American barkentine Olive Thurlow was wrecked on December 5, 1902, in Lookout Bight, coast of North Carolina, and one an lost his life from a terrible blow inflicted upon his head by the mizzenmast, which gave way and fell to the deck soon after the vessel entered the breakers. The rest of the crew were saved.

     The Thurlow was of 660 tons burden, 26 years old, and heavily laden with several hundred thousand feet of southern pine lumber, a portion of which was carried on deck. She was bound from Charleston, SC, to New York City, in command of Captain J.O. Hayes, and carried a crew of 7 men all told. When as far on her way as Bodie Island she ran into a gale from the north, veering to the eastward, and at about 4 o’clock in the morning of December 1 the master, deeming it no longer advisable to breast the storm, attempted to put his vessel before the wind. In order that no mistake should be made at the helm he himself took the the wheel, and while he was trying to adjust the tiller ropes one of his feet was caught between the tiller and the quandrant and jammed with such violence as to break his leg just above the ankle. The vessel was got around without further mishap and headed to the southward, which course she maintained until 8 o’clock on the night of December 3, when she dropped her anchor in 7-1/2 fathoms of water about 2-1/2 miles northeasterly from the Cape Lookout Life-Saving Station. The weather was then thick and rainy with a moderate gale from the southward.

     On the morning of the 4th the captain, who had now been suffering intensely for three days with a broken leg, naturally desired to get ashore where he could receive surgical attention, and he therefore ordered a distress signal to be set in the rigging. “Two minutes later,” as he says in his testimony, he saw the answering pennant of the life-saving station, “and twenty minutes later the life savers were aboard.” He was taken ashore, whence he was sent to Beaufort without delay, and in closing his affidavit regarding the disaster he states that he “received all possible attention and was under many obligations to the keeper and crew.”

     Before leaving the vessel, keeper Gaskill informed Captain Hayes that a very severe gale was imminent from the southwest, that the vessel was in a perilous position, and therefore he wished to be allowed to take her to a good anchorage in comparatively smooth water. This request the captain refused on the ground that she would not “head in and could not be put in stays” –that is, that the movement suggested could not be made. The keeper, however, had not the slightest doubt of its feasibility, and furthermore, it appears that the tug Atlantic went alongside the Thurlow and proposed to tow her to safe water and convey the master to Beaufort, but the proposition was declined because Captain Hayes would not agree to the terms offered. When the keeper left the vessel she was riding to only 25 or 30 fathoms of chain, and, although this was subsequently increased to 60 fathoms on one anchor, the second mate in his testimony asserts the wreck to have been due to the fact that more scope was not given.

    The life saving station kept a strict watch on the Thurlow from the time she anchored until her fate was sealed. As soon as her crew were convinced that she was certain to strand they fired two Coston signals, which surfman Yeomans, on the north patrol, answered instantly. The life savers got out their beach apparatus cart quickly, and since they knew that the beach was in a very bad condition for traveling, they divided the heavy load by placing a part of it in the driving cart. Then they set out with both vehicles on their toilsome journey of 2-1/2 miles through the soft, wet sand, with the wind blowing at the rate of 70 or 80 miles an hour, and, notwithstanding all the difficulties, reached the necessary position opposite the wreck within an hour from the burning of the distress signal on board.

     The doomed vessel was then lying broadside to the beach about 450 yards distant, and the sea was making a clean breach over her. All the men had taken to the lee mizzen rigging, and the business of keeper Gaskill was to cast a shot line as nearly as possible into their hands. The wreck was gradually working to the westward, and therefore the sand anchor had to be moved some 50 yards from the position first selected. Then the Lyle gun was fired with a 6-ounce charge of powder and a No. 7 line. The projectile fell 15 or 20 feet short, however, and a second shot was no more successful, but the third, with a No. 9 line and a 6-ounce charge, landed fairly in the midst of the sailors in the mizzen shrouds. At that very instant the masts went down, the mizzen breaking off about 20 feet above the deck, crushing the skull of the steward, John Chalkly, and seriously injuring two other men. Chalkly’s body fell overboard, while the others landed on the top of the house—men, mast, topmast, and rigging tangled together.

     The vessel began to break up within half an hour after she struck, and disintegrated rapidly. First the fore-topmast fell, then the forward house and deck load went overboard, then the bow and the stern were torn off, the general ruin being finally completed by the falling of all the masts with a crash audible far along shore. The top of the after-house, or cabin, was the only place of refuge, and lying there the 5 sailors struggled for their lives, with only a precarious handhold on the skylight coamings. Meantime the life savers quickly fired another line which fell almost into the hands of the shipwrecked men, who as quickly as they could pulled off the whip line and made fast the tail block to the stump of the mizzenmast, but, while the surfmen were engaged in sending out the hawser, a heavy sea tore off the top of the cabin on which the sailors were gathered and carried them with it into the breakers.

     The passage of these unfortunate men to the beach was a frightful spectacle, even to the surf-shore people, to whom shipwreck in its most harrowing form is no novelty. Lying flat upon the top of the cabin they thrust their arms through the windows of the skylight and desperately hung on. Two were sorely injured, and the other three assisted them as best they could. “At times,” says the keeper, “all must have been 10 feet under the water,” when their grasp would almost fail, and even when they rose to the surface the break of the waves would nearly smother them again. At last one lost his hold and seemed sure to drown, but the life savers went far out into the surf in spite of the wreckage and deadly undertow and saved him—luckily themselves escaping great injury or death, which was liable to follow a single blow from the heavy timbers thrust to and fro with terrific force. “The rescued man,” says the keeper, “was more dead than alive when taken from the water.” The other four still held on, and as soon as they were near enough the surfmen again went out into the breakers and dragged the poor fellows to the beach. The second mate, who was badly hurt by the falling mizzenmast, and a sailor who had several flesh wounds and severs bruises, could not stand, and had to be carried to the station in a wagon. The three others were practically helpless, but though bruised and sore were not wounded. None of the five could have held out much longer, nor any have saved themselves had they lost their places on the piece of wreckage which sustained them. All were at once taken to the station, where they were stripped of their wet clothing, wrapped in blankets, furnished with proper stimulants, and placed in bed. After two days they were sent to Beaufort.

     It is much to be regretted that keeper Gaskill was not allowed to shift the Thurlow to a better anchorage, since it appears in the testimony that the schooner Warren Adams safely rode out the gale in a berth selected by him. The thanks of the Service are due to the keeper and two assistants of the Point Lookout Lighthouse, and to several fishermen, for their voluntary and efficient aid in rescuing the shipwrecked men. The following letter was received from the latter by the General Superintendent:

CAPE LOOKOUT, NORTH CAROLINA, December 7, 1902

We, the crew of the barkentine Olive Thurlow, which went ashore December 5, at 4 a.m., and became a total wreck in Lookout Bay, wish to thank Captain Gaskil and his crew, of Cape Lookout life-saving station, for the timely assistance and care received at their hands. We would also state that if the vessel had held together a little longer all would have been saved in the breeches buoy, but the mizzenmast broke, killing the steward and injuring two others, after their line had been made fast to it, for which they are in no wise to blame. C. FLORIAN, Mate ; A. CURTIN, Second Mate ; F. FINCH, Seaman ; J. JOHNSON, Seaman ; G. BURGENSEN, Seaman

Schooner Wesley M. Oler ~ 5 December 1902

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1903:

Struck on the bar off Hatteras Inlet during the night, a heavy SW. gale with rough sea prevailing. The disaster was discovered at daylight by a surfman who had been left in charge of the station while the crew had gone to the assistance of a vessel several miles down the beach. He went on horseback after the crew, who at once returned but found that the vessel had gone to pieces. (For detailed account see caption “Loss of life.”)

Wreck of the schooner Wesley M. Oler

The four-masted schooner Wesley M. Oler was sunk and totally destroyed about 1 mile off Hatteras Inlet, NC, during the early morning of December 5, 1902, and her entire crew of 10 men perished.

     The vessel was of 1,061 tons gross burden, built in 1891, at Bath, ME, and was considered a fine example of her type. After discharging a cargo of coal at San Juan, Porto Rico, she sailed to Orchilla, a Venezuelan island in the Caribbean Sea, where she loaded with guano for New York. On her way north she encountered a heavy gale, and on the 7th of November, disabled and leaking, was compelled to put into Nassau for the purpose of making repairs. The United States consul reports that she anchored 25 miles from the city, where she was surveyed and certain repairs were recommended, but the owners or master refused to abide by the surveyor’s report. The tug Underwriter, of the Boston Towboat Company, appears to have been in southern waters, and Messrs. Crowell and Thurlow (the owners of the schooner) engaged her to tow the Oler from Nassau to New York.

     The Underwriter is a powerful seagoing vessel of over 300 tons, and the master states that during the fires three or four days she made excellent progress with the heavy schooner astern.

     On Sunday, November 30, he took the Oler in tow from Southwest Bay, New Providence, stood over toward the American coast at Jupiter, and then headed northward. Tuesday began with squally weather and a heavy roll from the southeast, which caused the captain of the schooner to furl all his sails, and they were never set again. During Wednesday and Thursday soundings were struck off Cape Lookout and lost again, whereupon the tug hauled in for soundings at Hatteras, which were made, and she then stood seaward. The storm on Thursday afternoon and night was blowing at the rate of 70 or 80 miles an hour, while rain and the tops of the seas lifted on the wind filled the air so that no object could be seen beyond a very short distance away. About 2.30 in the night (Friday morning, December 5), the towing hawser parted and the Oler disappeared. The tug “lay around under one bell till daylight and ran in toward Hatteras, but could see nothing of the schooner, and therefore proceeded to Hampton Roads.”

     The schooner without sail was of course unable to take care of herself, and the seas were sweeping her decks in such volume and fury that the crew could now make no movement to put her under canvas. Since none of those on board survived to give an account of the disaster, and the tug continued on her way as already stated, the circumstances of the interval following the parting of the towline and the discovery of the schooner from the shore are matters of conjecture. It is certain, however, that she drifted into the bight between Cape Lookout and Hatteras Shoals, and sometime after 2.30 a.m., before daylight, struck on the south side of Hatteras Inlet bar, where it is known that she went to pieces very soon afterwards.

     She was first seen from the shore just after daylight by Walter C. O’Neal, who happened to be on the beach. She was then sunk and the seas were dashing over her hull and high up the masts, which were still standing with sails furled. At first the young man thought he could perceive two objects in the rigging which might be men, but the wreck was a mile offshore and he expressed himself as by no means sure, while the general opinion was that no living person was on board at that time. He at once started down the beach on horseback to find and summon the keeper and crew of the life saving station, who had gone some 15 miles to the southward to the assistance of a vessel in distress at that point. About 8 o’clock, after having proceeded 7 or 8 miles, he met keeper Howard and his crew returning to the station.

     Upon receiving information of the disaster they quickened their pace as much as possible, and reached the station at 9.30 a.m. The masts of the wreck went by the board about half an hour earlier, and there was no vestige of her to be seen thereafter. She sank a mile off the beach, on the south side of the bar, and, assuming that her crew were on board when she was discovered, of which there is no probability whatever, Lieutenant J.E. Reinburg of the United States Revenue Cutter Service, who investigated the circumstances, is of the opinion that the life saving crew could have rendered no assistance “even had they been on the shore with unlimited help.” The sea was too heavy for a boat to live, and the wreck was many times too far away to permit the use of the beach apparatus.

     The crew of the Durants saw the Oler just after daylight, and immediately started for the vicinity with the beach apparatus cart, but after having proceeded a sufficient distance to locate the wreck with precision, returned to the station and launched the surfboat into the sound, with the purpose of going to the Hatteras Inlet Station to join forces with keeper Howard in any movement which might be found feasible. When nearly across the inlet keeper Burrus saw the masts of the schooner fall, and wisely reasoning that if any boats had escaped from her they would drift to the northward and eastward in the direction of his station, he quickly turned back. But no boats or wreckage bearing persons appeared, and careful patrolling developed none in the surf. Assistant inspector Daniels expresses the opinion that keeper Burrus and his crew deserve great credit for their trip across the inlet, which “was dangerous in the extreme and called for much skill and courage.”

     The investigating officer, in concluding his report, says:

“The schooner Wesley M. Oler struck and was lost on one of the most dangerous points on the whole Atlantic coast, and in one of the worst storms ever recorded in that locality. The fact that all her sails being furled, and many of the bodies found being naked or half clad, would seem to indicate that she went down very shortly after breaking away from the tug, and while a portion of her crew were in their berths suspecting no danger.”

Newspaper Article:
New York Times, December 9, 1902

 “…gon all to peeces nothing left but a few spars hanging around the wreck. The sea being so high it was imposable of getting eny wheare about her… no appearance of any body around the wreck.” ~James Howard