Brigantine Annchen ~ 17 July 1888

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1889:

Towards evening of the first of these dates, a vessel was seen approaching the North Carolina coast, a few miles to the westward of Cape Hatteras, and shortly after 7 o’clock she stranded between the Creeds Hill and the Durants Stations (6th District), North Carolina and nearer the first-named. This being the inactive season, the life-saving crews were disbanded, and the keepers were therefore delayed in proffering assistance through having to send some distance to summon their men. No time, however, was unnecessarily lost, the keepers having sent out as soon as the vessel’s signal of distress (a small flag at half-mast) could be seen. The life saving crews arrived at the wreck at about 8 o’clock and found her to be the German brigantine Annchen, of Papenburg. The sea being smooth, the crew had landed in their own boat, and the life savers returning ashore, found them abreast of the vessel. There were 7 all told. The brig had loaded spirits of turpentine at Savannah, GA, and was bound to Glasgow, Scotland. Early in the morning of the 16th, when some 42 miles off shore, she had sprung a bad leak, and being unable to make any harbor the captain found it necessary to beach her. The crew were taken to the Durant’s Station, where they remained two days. During the forenoon of the 28th the Creed’s Hill crew took the captain on board his craft and helped to save a number of articles of value. The greater part of the cargo was subsequently saved in a damaged condition, but the vessel became a total loss.

Steamer Ariosto ~ 24 December 1899

It would seem easy to distinguish a fixed white light in Ocracoke’s 65-foot-tall lighthouse from a flashing white light in Cape Hatteras’ 198-foot-tall lighthouse. But under duress during storm conditions, navigators sometimes made costly errors. 

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Services for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1900:

Stranded about 2 miles SW. of station at 3.50 a.m., during thick weather. Station crew hastened to the scene with beach apparatus, and at 9 a.m. succeeded, after several trials, in establishing communication with the wreck. The greater part of the steamer’s crew shoved off in one of her boats and attempted to lie under her lee to await daylight, but the boat swamped and nearly all of them perished. Three were hailed out of the surf alive by the life savers, and the 6 persons who remained on the wreck were safely landed in the beeches buoy. The crew from Durants Station assisted the Ocracoke crew at this wreck. Seven dead bodies which washed ashore were given Christian burial. Thirty lives were lost in this disaster, and the steamer became a total loss. 

Newspaper Articles:
New York Times, December 25, 1899
Feilding Star, Vol. XXI, Iss. 151, December 28, 1899

Investigative Report:
Wreck Report for Ariosto ~ Formal investigation held into the circumstances attending the stranding and total loss of the Ariosto.

Wreck of British Steamship Ariosto

The most calamitous, because entirely needless, loss of life during the entire year, or indeed for many recent years in the history of the Service, occurred on December 24, 1899, at the wreck of the British steamship Ariosto on the coast of North Carolina about 2 miles to the southward of the Ocracoke Life-Saving Station. Of 30 persons on board the vessel, 21 perished, while there was in the conditions not the slightest necessity that a single one should have been lost.

     The Ariosto was a schooner-rigged steel vessel of 2,265 tons, laden with a very valuable cargo of wheat, cotton, lumber, and cotton-seed meal, carrying 30 men, including officers, and commanded by Captain R.R. Baines. When lost she was bound from Galveston, TX, to Hamburg, Germany, via Norfolk, VA, the object of the call at Norfolk being to refill the coal bunkers.

     During the evening of Saturday, December 23, the weather was clear overhead, but hazy around the horizon, and a smart wind was blowing from the southwest, driving before it a very rough sea. At midnight the weather was thick all around, and heavy showers of rain passed over from time to time, while the sea was constantly making. About 3.45 o’clock (Sunday morning) Captain Baines, who was then lying down in the chart room, heard the telegraph bell ring, and instantly sprang up to inquire the reason, when he was met at his door by the second mate, who had come to request his presence on deck. Proceeding at once to the bridge, the captain saw that his ship was entirely surrounded by “white water.” He says he did not know precisely what part of the coast he was on, but that since he could see no land or light he had an idea that he had struck the Diamond Shoals, off Hatteras. As a matter of fact, he was some 15 miles to the southwest. The engines were working hard astern, but were not able to stop the headway of the vessel, which took the bottom, and remained, as the master says, “bumping and thumping in such a manner that it seemed probable her masts would come down.” All hands were at once on deck, and rocket signals of distress were fired, the first having b seen sent up about 3.50 o’clock, as he thinks. “While still firing,” the captain says, “a red flash was seen in the north, which was taken to be from some source whence assistance might come.” And so in fact it was, being the red Coston signal of the life saving patrol.

     Believing his ship to be among the Diamond Shoals, the master feared she might work off into one of the numerous deep holes or channels and founder there, and besides he was seriously worried by the fact that the heavy seas on the starboard side broke away the three starboard boats, while the ship was constantly heeling over to the starboard, making the destruction of the boats on the port side likely to take place at any moment. He therefore held a consultation with the chief officer, which resulted in a determination to launch the port boats. Here was where the fatal mistake occurred. Signals indicated that assistance would be afforded from the shore had already been seen and correctly interpreted. As subsequent events proved, to a demonstration, if all had simply stood by the ship every soul would have been rescued by the life saving crews. Nevertheless, it must be remembered that Captain Baines supposed his vessel to be stranded on the Diamond Shoals, a place of extreme danger, so far from shore that he might well have doubted the ability of any boat to reach her, and of course miles beyond the range of any life saving gun or rocket. Having in view these facts, it may not be a matter of great surprise that he should deem it the part of wisdom to save his two remaining boats and man them alongside until the dawn of day should make it possible to determine his true position and the proper course of action then to be taken.

     This he asserts to have been his purpose. Accordingly the pinnace was first got out and manned by 11 men, including the chief and second mates, who were placed in charge with instructions to “get away clear” and then lie by until daylight. As soon as the pinnace cleared the ship the lifeboat was successfully put over and manned by 15 men. Twenty-six persons were not in the boats, while there still remained on the ship four others who were also to go in the lifeboat. These were Captain Baines, Third Officer Reed, Chief Engineer Warren, and Carpenter Peltonen. Fortunately for them the lifeboat got away before they could embark in it. To this providential accident, which probably then seemed to them the worst of ill luck, they owed their lives. It would appear that these entire operations were conducted with such haste that they were completed in less than 30 minutes from the moment the vessel stranded. Meantime she was entirely intact (as indeed she remained for several days) and the life savers were constantly firing signals of assurance that aid would be afforded. It would therefore hardly seem unreasonable to suppose that the officers of the Ariosto should have realized that they were on the shore and not on the Diamond Shoals. However, the boats were not afloat, and the entire crew in them, save four men. In obedience to the master’s instructions they lay to under the lee of the ship, the man at the oars backing and pulling to keep them head to the waves. It was an awful position, the sea constantly growing rougher and rougher, while the suction of the water around the bows and stern of the steamer was getting to be irresistible.

     Captain Baines thinks the pinnace held her position for at least an hour, and the lifeboat for full half that time (having been launched last), but at all events, from his place on the bridge he saw the former carried by the swift tide to the north into the breakers, and the lifeboat overwhelmed and capsized, throwing all its occupants into the sea. As a matter of fact both boats were upset, and all in them were cast adrift. Twenty-six persons were not battling for their lives in one of the worst seas with which desperate men have ever contended. And yet one of them, Seaman Elsing, a man of infinite skill in the water and of brave heart and wonderful physical power, actually swam ashore, absolutely unaided even with so much as the slightest piece of wreckage to help bear him up. Two others who left the ship in the lifeboat—C. Peterson, a fireman, and C. Saline, a seaman—were hauled back on board the steamer by means of the boat tackle which hung alongside, while Fireman Henroth and Boatswain Anderson, who embarked in the pinnace, were dragged from the surf by the life savers who were on the beach. By this time daylight was faintly showing, an keeper Howard of the Ocracoke Station, having gained some ocular information of the status of affairs, at once set the international code signal “M K” (remain by your ship).

     Knowledge of the wreck was obtained at the station in the following way: About 4 o’clock surfman Guthrie, while on south patrol, discovered, during a brief interval when the weather lighted, the masthead light of a steamer having such a bearing that he knew she must be ashore, whereupon he immediately fired a red signal and hastened as fast as he could to the station and turned out the crew. Davie Williams, the north patrolman, having also discovered the wreck, likewise returned to the station, finding his comrades already moving.

     The coast runs about northeast by southwest, and the steamer lay about 2 miles southwest of the station. An accident to one of the shafts of the beach apparatus cart caused considerable delay soon after the crew started, but as it was yet very dark, and as subsequent events clearly showed, this fact in no way adversely affected the operations. The tide making over the beach was especially deep at a point where the hurricane of August 16-18 had cut an inlet, and the keeper was obliged to secure the aid of 5 citizens of the vicinity to help his crew get the gear to the wreck, but not withstanding all the difficulties, the life savers were on the scene between 5 and 5.30 o’clock. Hardly had they arrived when they made out in the darkness which still prevailed, a shadowy figure staggering along the beach, who proved to be Seaman Elsing, above named as having swum ashore unaided. He seemed only half conscious, but was able to tell them of the capsize of the boats and to suggest that they might yet find men in the surf. None could be seen, however, and the life savers went quickly to work with preparations to set up the beach apparatus.

     On account of the surf running over the beach there was very serious difficulty in finding a place sufficiently high and solid to bury the sand anchor where it would hold and to place the Lyle gun where it would be out of the water. Both had to be frequently moved during the operations.

     The first shot was fired at about 5.45 o’clock, but the steamer was at least 600 yards distant, and the line failed to reach her. It was therefore hauled in, and with it came a half-drowned man, who was later found to be Boatswain Andersen. He was unconscious, but was resuscitated by the surfmen, and subsequently told them that the line fell across him as he was struggling in the surf; that he had sufficient consciousness to hitch it around his arm, and was thus drawn ashore—an almost miraculous escape from death.

     About this time other persons were dimly discernible in the water making desperate efforts to reach the beach. The life saving men strenuously attempted to reach them, going into the water up to their necks, but the surf was so strong that their utmost exertions resulted in saving only one, Fireman Henroth, who was insensible when taken from the water, but happily not past resuscitation, which was finally affected.

     It was immediately after this rescue that keeper Howard set the signal for those on board the ship to remain there, and then began firing to throw a line across the vessel. While this was going on, and, owing to the great distance, the projectiles were falling short, three sailors were dragged from the surf apparently dead, but nevertheless some of the surfmen devoted themselves to every effort to effect their restoration, although without avail. Not until well-nigh 11 o’clock was it possible to put a line over the steamer. By that hour she had worked within 400 or 500 yards of the beach, and a projectile carrying a No. 4 shot line was finally landed on board. To this was attached a No 7 and to that a No. 9 line (for fear that the smaller one might give way to the intense strain of dragging the tail block and whip line through the powerful longshore current) and when the No. 9 was safe on board, the whip line was attached to it and sent out. The hawser followed, and the actual rescue then began, but the tremendous roll of the ship, which lay broadside to, threatened to part the hawser every time she rolled ashore, and the most critical attention at the relieving tackle was necessary to prevent that disaster. Besides all this the vessel was gradually edging closer in and consequently the gear frequently had to be reset. For these reasons the operations were necessarily so extremely difficult that their completion without mishap affords the best of evidence that they were judiciously and skillfully conducted. Captain Baines was the last to leave the ship, and when he put his feet upon the beach, about 2.30 p.m., a loud cheer was sent up by all the people who had by this time assembled. Every man was saved whom the life saving crews could by any possibility have rescued under the most unfortunate circumstances following the launching of the boats, and if all had remained patiently on board not one would have been lost.

     Keeper Burrus and his crew, of the Durants Life-Saving Station, located next to Ocracoke on the north, were requested by telephone to join keeper Howard’s crew after the latter had begun operations to set up the beach apparatus. They started at once, but were obliged to use the station supply boat on account of the rough sea, and to go on the inside of the beach by way of Pamlico Sound, which consumed about two hours. They made, however, the best possible time, arriving just as the shot line was fired over the vessel, and performed their share of the work.

     A number of citizens of the neighborhood voluntarily rendered extremely valuable assistance to the life saving crews, and it is a pleasure to this office to thankfully acknowledge their praiseworthy conduct, which, it is but simple justice to add, was thoroughly characteristic of the humane and courageous people who inhabit this coast. Unfortunately the names of all of them could not be obtained, but among the number were I.M. Stowe, A.J. O’Neal, B.F. Stowe, B.E. Austin, W.B. Stowe, H.B. Stowe, and C.F. Austin.

     All the testimony taken by the investigating officer demonstrates the entire efficiency of the life saving crews, and the 9 survivors of the wreck addressed to keeper Howard a letter written by Captain Baines, and signed by him with the rest, which contains the following paragraphs:

“The six men met with the most hospitable treatment from the life-saving station and other residents. The rescue was affected under very trying circumstances, and would perhaps have been almost beyond the means at Captain Howard’s disposal had they not had valuable assistance from Captain Burrus and crew from Durants Station and several of the good people from thereabouts, whose strong arms made the use of the method at his disposal a grand success.

     That such a lamentable loss of life occurred is not in any way to be attributed to the want of diligence, promptitude, or lookout of Captain Howard and staff, and we are unanimous in our conscientious declaration that their action in the matter was all that could be done, and is deserving of the highest commendation.”

Read more at the Ocracoke Island Journal.

Capt Ryde Rupert Baines

Ryde Rupert Baines, son of Thomas Baines and Charlotte Richbell, was born in Camberwell, England on 22 Jan 1846. In 1877 he married Mrs. Mary Elly van Troyen with whom he had four children. Capt. Baines died on 9 Feb 1912. Thanks to his great grand daughter, Teresa Collados Baines, who shared photos of the following items that were rescued from the Ariosto before it wrecked. 

The fork on right bears the initials of Capt. Baines.

Bark Codorus ~ 4 August 1886

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1887:

At quarter to 3 o’clock in the afternoon the bark Codorus, of Baltimore, MD, bound thence from Rio Janeiro, Brazil with a valuable cargo of coffee, mis-stayed and stranded on the outer shoals off Cape Hatteras, NC, about 8 miles to the southward of the Cape Hatteras Station (6th District). There was a light southeast breeze at the time and the accident was, in great part, attributed to the strong set of the current. She had on board a crew of 12 men and one passenger. The station being closed at this season the keeper, as soon as possible, assembled a volunteer crew and put off to the vessel in the surf boat, reaching the scene near dark, but found it out of the question to go alongside on account of the heavy breakers on the shoals. As she appeared to be lying easy and in no immediate danger, the surfmen returned ashore to wait until daylight before attempting to board her. A strict watch was kept during the night and a fire built on the beach to guide the wrecked people to a safe landing in case they were obliged to abandon the craft before morning. Rockets were also set up to reassure them. Shortly after 6 o’clock (5th) the captain and three sailors managed to reach the shore in their own boat, to the south of the shoals, where they were met by the keeper and conducted to the station. As the assistance of wrecking tugs was desired, a message was at once sent to Hatteras village for transmission at that point over the Signal Service wires, but subsequent developments proved this step needless for when the surfmen went off again to the vessel, which they immediately did, she had broken in two and was fast going to pieces. Crews from the adjacent stations of Big Kinnakeet, to the north, Creeds Hill and Durants, to the westward, went to the wreck in their boats and joined in the work of rescuing the people, saving their effects, and conveying ashore provisions and cargo. The castaways were sheltered at the Cape Hatteras Station, all of them remaining a week, and the captain 6 days longer. Some 60 odd sacks of coffee were stored, which the keeper afterwards delivered on board a schooner authorized to receive them. The bark became a total loss.

Bark Dulcimer ~ 12 February 1883

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1983:

The bark Dulcimer, of London, England, with a crew of 11 men, bound from Pernambuco, Brazil, to New York, with a cargo of sugar, was wrecked at half past 5 in the morning on the coast of North Carolina, about a mile and a half south of Durants Station (6th District), near Hatteras Inlet, the disaster being attributed to the foggy weather then prevailing. She was discovered at 6 o'clock by the station patrol and reported to the keeper. As the sea was too rough to use the boat the life saving crew set out with their beach apparatus, arriving abreast of the bark at half past 6, an hour after she struck. The wreck gun was placed in position as quickly as possible and fired, the first shot carrying the line over the fore yard arm. The whip line and hawser then followed, and after some little delay, occasioned by the strong current, which prevented very rapid work. all hands were safely landed from the bark and conducted to the station, where they were properly cared for. On the following morning (13th) the life saving crew assisted the captain in recovering some of his personal effects which had been left on board, the vessel then being in the hands of wreckers who were engaged in stripping her. In the afternoon the sea became much worse, and word reached the station that four of the wrecking gang, who were on board the bark, needed the help of the life saving crew in getting ashore. The latter responded to the call without delay, and by using one of the bark's boats soon had the men safe on the beach. The sailors were sheltered at the station for several days and then took passage for Norfolk, the vessel and cargo becoming a total loss.

Newspaper Article:
New York Times, February 13, 1883
New York Times, February 14, 1883

Schooner Eugene ~ 25 January 1883

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Services for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1883:

The crew, 6 in number, of the schooner Eugene, which ran into a wreck 30 miles southeast of Ocracoke Inlet on the 22d and sunk, landed in their yawl near Durants Station (6th District), North Carolina, and were succored there for four days, until they were able to secure transportation to their homes.

Schooner Hester A. Seward ~ 6 January 1895

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Services for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1895:

Sprang a leak at sea and ran for Hatteras Inlet before heavy gale and high seas, but struck on the bar in the breakers and pounded hard, finally working inside, where she sunk; set signal for aid. The accident was seen by the life saving crew, who hurried to the place, 4 miles away, with surf boat, arriving just after the people on board, 6 in number, had been taken off by a pilot skiff that was near by when the casualty occurred. Keeper offer assistance to the crew, who were in the pilot boat, but it was declined. Meanwhile the crew of Durants Station, 6 miles distant, arrived in the sailboat and, at the request of the master, took the ship’s company to his station. They were cared for several days and furnished articles of clothing. The vessel proved a total loss, but a part of her cargo of shingles was saved by the Ocracoke life-saving crew. (See letter of acknowledgement.)

HATTERAS, NORTH CAROLINA, January 6, 1895

SIR: The master and crew of the schooner Hester A. Seward, of Baltimore, MD, who were wrecked at Hatteras Inlet on the above date, wish to express out gratitude and thanks to the keeper and crew of Durant’s Life-Saving Station for the prompt and faithful manner in which they responded in making the effort they did. Had it not been for the pilot boat he would have been of good service to us; but under the circumstances, could not reach us in time, as the pilot boat was on hand, lying in wait to pilot my schooner in. Keeper Burrus met us one-half mile from the wreck, and we were transferred to his boat, taken to Durant’s Station, kindly treated, furnished with dry clothing, and properly cared for. We hope no blame will rest on him or crew, as they did their duty. Yours truly, DIXON YOUNG, Master ; T.D. GRIFFISS, Mate

Schooner J.C. McNaughton ~ 8 April 1899

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1899:

Parted her cable, stranded and sank ½ mile E. of station at 2 a.m. The Durants and Creeds Hill life saving crews were soon on the beach abreast the stranded vessel with the beach apparatus. Shot line was quickly thrown across her, the whip hauled off and made fast in the main rigging, the hawser set up, and the crew of 5 men safely landed in the breeches buoy, and provided with dry clothing from the supplies of the Women’s National Relief Association. The wreck became a total loss, but about $800 worth of her cargo of lumber was saved by the surfmen. The shipwrecked crew was succored for 5 days at the life saving station.

Wreck of the J.C. McNaughton

The 146-ton J.C. McNaughton parted her cable during a gail of wind and stranded near Hatteras about 4 or 6 miles from the Durants Station. Built at Delaware in 1888, the three-masted schooner was under the command of Captain Outten and bound for New York City from Scranton with a load of lumber.

The Durants lookout spotted the vessel about 8 a.m. Surfman D.E. Willis, at the Ocracoke Station had already discovered the vessel and keeper Burrus and his crew were on the scene when the Ocracoke crew arrived. They worked together for four full days until they obtained another vessel to use as a lighter. After transferring most of the cargo they finally floated the McNaughton at 6:30 p.m. on the 13th.

Schooner James B. Anderson ~ 21 January 1889

The New Bern Weekly Journal,
New Bern, NC, 27 January 1889

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1889:

On this date four of the crew of the abandoned schooner James B. Anderson, of Wilmington, Delaware, having been landed by a pilot-boat, were succored one night at the Durant’s Station (Sixth District) coast of North Carolina, and furnished with clothing from the supply donated by the Women’s National Relief Association.

Schooner John N. Parker ~ 8 January 1884

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1884:

The schooner John N. Parker, of Seaford, DE, from Philadelphia, PA, bound to Norfolk, VA, with a cargo of coal, and having a crew of 6 men, was carried out of her course by stress of weather and stranded at 7 o’clock in the morning, about four miles southwest of the Durant’s Station (6th District), North Carolina, a heavy southeast gale and high sea prevailing. At the time she struck she was in a crippled condition attempting to enter Hatteras Inlet for a harbor. Her situation was discovered immediately by the station crew, who hastened to her with a beach apparatus. There was such a heavy surf running that she had already commenced to break up. The first and second shots fired were unsuccessful, the third shot carried the line across the vessel. In sending off the whip the shot line parted owing to the strong current and the working of the vessel. By this time the vessel had driven nearer in toward he beach, head on, and communication being soon re-established, the life saving gear was at once rigged and the people landed and taken to the station, where they were supplied with dry clothing and cared for until able to depart. Four of the men left on the fourth day after the wreck on the schooner bound to Philadelphia, while the captain and mate remained a few days longer. The vessel and cargo became a total loss and the men themselves lost everything except what they stood in.

Schooner Nellie Wadsworth ~ 6 December 1885

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1886:

The schooner Nellie Wadsworth, of Baltimore, MD, was driven ashore on the northerly side of Hatteras Inlet, NC, on the night of December 5th, and became a total wreck. She was from Charleston, SC, bound through the inlet into Pamlico Sound on her way to New Berne, NC, with a cargo of phosphate, and had anchored in the inlet on the morning of the 5th to await the subsidence of the strong gale then blowing from the southwest. Her crew consisted of 5 men.

     The crew of the Durant’s Station (6th District) some miles north of the inlet, had observed her soon after she came to and proceeded to the point with their boat on its carriage. She had dragged in over the shoals, but was then in smooth water and apparently all right, although there was a formidable line of breakers between her and the shore, which could only be traversed by the boat at great risk. Under these circumstances, and as the people made no signal to be taken off, feeling secure and safe so long as the anchors held, the life savers made no attempt to board the vessel. They, however, watched her all day, and at 9 o’clock that night, when the patrol reached the point, she was still riding safely to her anchors, and he so reported to the keeper on his return.

    When, however, the next watch, surfman W.R. Austin, reached the point at 1 o’clock on the morning of the 6th, he found that she had dragged into the breakers and was lying broadside to the beach, about 120 yards off. Austin quickly made signal and then hurried to the station with the alarm, and by 3 o’clock or a little earlier the crew were on the scene with the beach apparatus. Although the night was dark as pitch and the schooner had no lights, the first shot was successful and carried a line into the main rigging within easy reach of the crew, who had been driven thither for safety almost as soon as she struck. The weather was freezing cold, and the men on board, being drenched to the skin and almost perished, had as much as they could do to haul the whip off. As soon as the sailors secured the tail block to the mainmast the station men sent off the hawser, and they were about to set it taut and rig the breeches buoy when the mast fell over the side and the life saving gear became entangled in the floating wreckage. The men managed, however, to clear the whip sufficiently to send off a bundle of cork life belts, but when the latter were within a few feet of the schooner the line again fouled, so that they could not be reached or moved either way.

     To add to the people’s peril the vessel was rolling deeply in the surf and almost buried by the waves, and they had the utmost difficulty to avoid being washed overboard. In order to secure the life belts one of the sailors, George Richardson, of New River, a colored man, jumped into the surf and after a desperate struggle succeeded in getting hold of them. The icy coldness of the water was, however, more than he could stand, and his strength failing he was unable to return to the vessel, being just able to cling to the line and no more. It was also so dark that the men on the beach were unaware of his situation. They, in the meantime, were taking steps to clear the line, intending, as the breeches buoy could not be used, to devise some other means of getting the people ashore as quickly as possible. The beach pony that had been used to help haul the apparatus cart from the station was attached to one part of the whip and the animal was then started at a brisk pace across the beach.

    This proved effectual, the strain starting the line through the block, which was still attached to the broken mast, and in a few moments Richardson, to the surprise of the surfmen, was seen emerging from the surf, still clinging to the line, the belts coming with him. The poor fellow had been in the water probably 10 or 15 minutes and was speechless and almost gone from exhaustion. One of the station crew at once took him in charge and did all that was possible to revive him by giving him brandy and rubbing his half froze limbs, while the rest turned their attention to those still on the wreck. Three more were brought ashore by means of the whip without much difficulty, but the fifth and last man lost his hold as he neared the beach and would have been swept away by the undertow but for the surfmen, who quickly formed a line by joining hands, with the keeper in the lead, and wading out over waist-deep the latter grasped the man and with the aid of he others brought him out safe.

     With the gale still blowing and the temperature below the freezing point the sailors were in a sorry plight, and in no condition to undertake the journey to the station, three or four miles distant. But it was the nearest shelter, and they must be got there or freeze to death in their dripping garments. They were partially revived with stimulants from the medicine chest and then the party set out, the castaways being aided in every possible manner by the beachmen. Before they had gone a quarter of the distance the colored man, Richardson, who was very thinly clad, gave out, and faintly begging to be left alone he lapsed into a state of unconsciousness, from which he never recovered. Energetic measures were taken to restore him, but it was of no avail, and in a few moments the poor fellow was dead. The rest were also suffering dreadfully from the cold and begged piteously that they be left to their fate on the bleak and desolate beach. Had this been done, or had there been the least delay, there can be no doubt that the end would soon have come to them all.

     By almost superhuman exertion, however, on the part of the surfmen, the survivors were conducted to the station, the keeper, Zera G. Burrus, with true heroism, giving up his own hat and shoes to the man who he had in charge and carrying him on his back as much as of the distance as his own almost exhausted strength would permit. The life savers behaved throughout with the utmost humanity and deserve the highest praise. The party reached the house at 7 o’clock, just before sunrise, and the first thing done by the station men before thinking of themselves was to remove the frozen garments of the sailors and replace them with dry clothing from the supply donated by the Women’s National Relief Association and from the keeper’s own scanty wardrobe. They were also given hot coffee and then put to bed, their condition being such that it was unsafe to partake of solid food until they had rested and were somewhat recovered from the effects of the terrible ordeal they had passed through. The body of Richardson was also decently coffined and interred the same day in a piece of woods not far from the station. The survivors remained under the care of their rescuers for several days, or until they were well enough to leave for New Berne, across the Sound, where most of them reside. 

Schooner Shiloh ~ March 17, 1876

The Baltimore Sun, March 22, 1876

Bark Spero ~ 24 December 1910

Annual Report for the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Services for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1911:

The Norwegian bark Spero, of 679 tons register, bound from Barbadoes, West Indies, to New York with a crew of 12 men, stranded before daylight on Hatteras Beach, 2 miles southwest of the Durants (NC) station. Before she struck, the patrol burned a Coston signal to warn her away, but apparently the warning was unheeded, for she failed to change her course. The station lookout saw the patrolman’s warning signal and called all hands. Upon the patrolman’s arrival at the station with the news the Creeds Hill crew were notified by telephone, after which the Durants crew hurried along the beach to the scene with the beach apparatus. A line was fired across the wreck, which lay 300 yards offshore. The Creeds Hill crew arriving at this juncture, assisted in the work of rigging up the apparatus. This accomplished, 9 men—all that were on the wreck—were landed, the three others in the crew having made shore in a boat before the arrival of the life-savers. The shipwrecked men were succored at the Durants station until their departure, four days later. The Spero became a total loss.

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

Barkentine Walter S. Massey ~ 18 January 1889

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1889:

The barkentine Walter S. Massey, of Philadelphia, from Pernambuco, Brazil, on her way to Hampton Roads, VA, for orders ran upon the Outer Diamond Shoal off Cape Hatteras, NC, at half past 4 o’clock in the morning of the 18th during a very dense fog, and soon filled with water. She carried a crew of 10 men and a valuable freight of sugar. As the accident occurred some 9 miles southeast of the Cape Hatteras Station (6th District) the thick weather prevented the vessel’s being seen until half past 10 o’clock, when the fog lifting the surf man on the lookout discovered her situation. He at once notified the keeper. The latter telephoned to the neighboring stations—Big Kinnakeet on the one hand and Creeds Hill and Durants on the other—for assistance, then made preparations to go to the rescue as soon as the two surf men who had been sent on patrol because of the storm, should return and give him a full crew. It was therefore nearly noon before a start could be made. The keeper of the Durants Station now arrived with the Creeds Hill crew and boat, and the force was shortly further increased by the arrival of the Big Kinnakeet crew with their boat. The three surf boats were now launched and pulled out through the heavy surf, shipping several seas in the attempt, but getting safely across the bar. They proceeded toward the wreck and upon reaching the outer slew met the bark’s crew making for the shore in their own boat. The station man hitched their boats together and taking the other in tow, set out on the return. Getting inside the outer bank, 5 of the sailors were taken into the Cape Hatteras boat, the others into the Big Kinnakeet boat, and the third life-saving crew took charge of the ship's boat. The landing through the surf was affected shortly after dark without greater mishap than the over ending of the empty boat, though not without difficulty and danger. The captain was sick and exhausted and all the men were wet. They were conducted to the station, provided with dry clothing and made as comfortable as circumstances permitted. The storm continuing for several days, the vessel went to pieces and became with her cargo a total loss. On the 20th shipwrecked people desiring to proceed to their homes were put on board a wrecking steamer bound to Norfolk. The captain, before his departure, wrote to the general superintendent of the service as follows:

CAPE HATTERAS LIFE-SAVING STATION, January 20, 1889

SIR: I wish to tender my thanks to Capt. B.B.  Daily and crew, of this station, Capt. Z. G. Burris, of Durrants, the surf men of Creeds Hill, and Capt. D. M. Pugh and crew, of Big Kinnakeet, for their prompt assistance rendered to me and my crew of nine men wrecked on Hatteras Shoals January 18th. We struck the shoal at 4.30 a.m., the vessel breaking up. It being thick, we could not be seen from the shore. We had to leave the ship and a long-boat, and were taken up at sea by the above named live-saving crews, taken to the station, cared for, and treated with the greatest respect. We lost everything we had, and without the assistance of the lifesavers it is more than likely we would have been lost, leaving no one to tell the tale; but by their hard work our lives were saved. Very respectfully, THOS. P. PHELAN, Master of Barkentine Walter S. Massey