Schooner Aaron Reppard ~ 16 August 1899

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

Wreck of the Schooner Aaron Reppard

The shattered keel and a few jagged oaken timbers of a ruined vessel lying 100 yards above low-water mark on Hatteras Island, NC, 2-1/2 miles below the Gull Shoal Life-Saving station, mark the locality where the three-masted schooner Aaron Reppard was totally destroyed on the 16th of August, 1899, during the prevalence of a West Indian hurricane, pronounced by the observer of the United States Weather Bureau “the most severe in the history of Hatteras.”

     Eight days before the wreck of the Reppard the same storm had spread almost unprecedented devastation over the island of Porto Rico, and during the intervening period had slowly progressed northward carrying more or less of destruction on its evil wings. By August 13 its center was off Jupiter Inlet, FL, and in the meantime all interests in its line of advance were advised by the Weather Bureau of its calculated movements, and all shipping bound for the South Atlantic was informed of the danger of sailing for that region.

     Whether Captain Wessel of the Reppard was actually aware of the advancing tempest is not known. He left Philadelphia at 2 o’clock p.m., Saturday, August 12, bound for Savannah, GA, and was towed as far as Reedy Island, 45 or 50 miles down the Delaware River, where he anchored and remained until Monday, August 14. At about 5 o’clock in the morning of that day he got under way and proceeded out to the capes of the Delaware, standing south with an easterly wind until past Fenwick Island Lightship, when he hauled to south by east and stood so until 8 p.m., and then kept away south.

     At that moment the coming hurricane was raging around the port of his destination, only a few hundred miles to the southward, and he was sure soon to be involved in its dreadful swirl, if he continued on his course. At 8 o’clock that night the wind was from the east and already of sufficient force to require all the light sails to be taken in and preventer stays to be set up. The next morning, Tuesday, the vessel was by calculation somewhere off Cape Henry.

     If the captain had any knowledge of the weather signals flying when he sailed, the increase of wind and fall of barometer might well have caused him to take refuge inside the capes of the Chesapeake and await developments. At 4 p.m. the hurricane, still sweeping northward, was furious around Cape Hatteras, while two hours prior to that time the wind was so heavy off Cape Henry, where the Reppard then was, that the captain hove his vessel to. She had been so strained already that the crew were kept at the pumps two-thirds of the time, and it was now too late to seek a harbor. She remained hove to during the night on the starboard tack under for staysail and mainsail with the helm lashed hard down, and on Wednesday morning the mizzen storm trysail was set to hold her up. The weather was thick, rain was falling heavily and the wind was blowing fiercely from the eastward during all the forenoon of Wednesday, and the already doomed vessel was constantly drifting shoreward, although the proximity of the land was not definitely known to those on board. At about 1 o’clock p.m., however, breakers were reported astern. The captain quickly ordered the staysail to be taken in, and both bower anchors to be let go, which was done, leaving the mainsail and trysail still set in order to keep the schooner’s head to the wind. Although 90 fathoms of chain were run out on each anchor both of them could not hold her against the tremendous sea, and she slowly dragged them for about 15 minutes, when she reached the first line of breakers, which was very heavy.

     At this juncture the mainsail halyards were let go so that the sail would run down, and all hands leaped into the shrouds to escape being carried overboard by the sea which now swept the decks. Besides the crew, which numbered 7 men, officers included, there was one passenger, named Cummings, who is said to have belonged in Charleston, SC. Captain Wessel, Mate Johnson, Steward Robinson, and seamen John Van der Graaf, Pedro Lachs, and James M. Lynott took to the fore rigging; one sailor, Tony Nilsen, to the main rigging, and the passenger, Cummings, to the mizzen rigging. Van der Graaf was the last man to reach the rigging, and he says that when he got aloft he could plainly see the shore astern, where he counted some 20 people, although he had little idea of the distance.

     The heavy hull, laden with some 700 tons of anthracite coal, pounded with terrific force, and still continued to drag farther and farther into the breakers. The persons visible on the shore were the life saving crews of the stations located at Gull Shoal, Little Kinnakeet, and Chicamacomico, who had assembled with their apparatus to render such aid as the almost hopelessly adverse conditions might permit.

     The Reppard was first seen by surfman William G. Midgett, who was on day patrol south of Gull Shoal Station. He says she was then about a mile and a half offshore, southeast of the station, heading about north, and “doing the best she could,” now making a little headway and then dropping back. He was able to make her out for an hour, at intervals when the weather would lighten up, before she anchored. “As soon as she did that,” he says, “I knew she would come ashore, and I then made my way to the station and reported her,” leaving the patrolman of the Little Kinnakeet Station on the beach to watch her. The distance he had to travel was about a mile and a half to the northward, and so heavy were the conditions that, although he was mounted and drove his horse as hard as he could, it took him 15 minutes to cover the ground. He was in ample time, however, so far as movements to effect a rescue were concerned.

     Captain Pugh immediately telephoned Little Kinnakeet Station, next to Gull Shoal on the southward, and Chicamacomico, next to the northward, requesting keepers Hooper and Midgett to join him with their crews abreast of the wreck. Then he attached his own horse to the beach apparatus cart, and those of surfmen G.L. Midgett and D.L. Gray to Service cards loaded with additional equipments, and in 5 minutes after the wreck was reported set out vigorously for the scene, where he and his crew arrived within half an hour and found the position of the vessel and men on board as above described. Within not more than 10 minutes later in either case, the other crews, who had also utilized their own horses to insure speed, also arrived.

     Captain Pugh testifies that the schooner then lay about 700 yards distant, stern toward the beach, “riding to two anchors, but slowly dragging shoreward.” This portion of the land consists of two banks about 50 yards apart with a gully between them, and the sea, which is described as being “as high as it possibly could be,” was frequently sweeping completely over the land from the ocean side into the sound. In view of the fact that the survivors and the members of the lifesaving crews agree that the employment of a boat under the conditions was clearly beyond all possibility, that question need not be here considered. No number of men, no matter how many or how skillful, could have launched a boat.

     Where the schooner then was no life saving ordnance in the world could reach her, and therefore all that the life saving crews could do was to make ready their apparatus and await the moment when she should drift within range. When she was within about 500 yards, as nearly as could be estimated, the Lyle gun was fired with a 6-ounce charge of powder and a No. 7 shot line. The line parted, however, close to the shank of the projectile, which went on its way and was lost. A second attempt was then made, and the line stood the test, but the shot fell “at least 75 yards short.” Wisely concluding, therefore, that the line was too heavy to carry the requisite distance, the gun was again charged and fired with a cartridge of the same weight, but with a No. 4 line attached to the projectile, which laid it safely across the head stays of the schooner. Van der Graaf, one of the surviving sailors, says they saw the line perfectly well and knew what it meant, but that by no possible skill or courage could any of them have reached it. He declares in his testimony that if it had fallen close to him he could have done nothing with it. “She was pounding so heavily that it took both hands to hold on.” “This must have been about thirty minutes after we reached the beach,” says keeper Pugh, “and even if they had secured the shot line I am satisfied they never could have hauled off the whip. The only thing they could have done was to haul off life preservers.”

Constructed of 52 individual cork blocks sewn onto a canvas vest with cotton duck tying tapes, this pattern of life preserver was used by the U.S. Life Saving Service, and was an essential item of equipment at stations from the late 1860s through the 1920s.

It was soon evident that the wreck was about to go to pieces, and the only thing the life savers could not hope to accomplish was to rescue the shipwrecked men from the surf when the last desperate moment should arrive. Even in this they were doomed to an extremely painful degree of disappointment. Seaman Van der Graaf says that first the deck house went by the board, then the hatch coamings and the decks, and then the bulwarks. While this destruction was going on the passenger, Cummings, in the mizzen shrouds, was caught by one leg in the ratlines and “slammed back and forth” until dead before the mast fell, which was the first to go, and went over the port side. He was never seen again.

     The mainmast shortly followed the mizzenmast, first breaking in two pieces and causing the sailor, Tony Nilsen, who was in its rigging, to fall among the debris, where he was seen by Van der Graaf, who says that, although he was badly wounded, he worked himself clear of the wreckage and got over the side, but then disappeared. Before the mainmast fell Captain Wessel jumped overboard from the fore rigging and made a brave effort to swim ashore. The men watched him all the time, now making a little progress, and now sorely baffled by the backlash of the seas until he evidently found that he must fail, when he turned around and tried to regain the vessel. In this last struggle for his life he so far succeeded as to get within 5 yards of her, but then threw up his hands and sank out of sight.

     The mate, Steward Robinson, seamen Pedro Lachs, James M. Lynott, and Van der Graaf, all in the fore rigging, were still alive, but the foremast soon broke into three pieces and fell to starboard, carrying all four men with in into the sea. Lynott was severely bruised, and his shipmates, who never saw him after the mast gave way, believe that he was instantly drowned. The steward was also injured by the fall and soon perished. Three men were still alive in the water—the mate and seamen Lachs and Van der Graaf—and fortunately they were on the side toward the shore.

     While this tragedy was being enacted the life saving keepers had decided that three surfmen from the Gull Shoal Station, two from Little Kinnakeet, and two from Chicamacomico, should put on cork jackets, and, each taking from 40 to 50 yards of shot line, wade out as far as possible into the surf, while each line should be held by two surfmen on the beach. The three men just mentioned as alive among the remnants of the foremast alongside the Reppard clung to such pieces of wreckage as they could lay hold of, and were gradually tossed near enough to the shore to be rescued by the life savers in the surf.

     Tame as these operations may seem when stated in cold and formal terms, they were by no means free from great peril to the rescuers. Heavy pieces of ragged wreckage filled the surf—planks, timbers, and broken spars—and were hurled about with deadly force in every direction, so that the surfmen had to move rapidly and with great skill to avoid them. Indeed, the veteran keeper of Little Kinnakeet Station, Captain E.O. Hooper, who refused to head the entreaties of his comrades to leave the hazardous work to younger men, rushed in at a critical moment, nearly losing his life, and suffering a fracture of one of the bones of his right leg. However, by dint of courageous and skillful effort all three of the shipwrecked men who escaped from the vessel alive were rescued from the surf. Being too weak to walk, or indeed, to stand, they were conveyed in beach carts to the Gull Shoal Station. There they were treated with proper stimulants, clad in dry underclothing, and placed in bed, where, after several hours, they recovered from their terrible experience.

     The names of the three men saved were Bernard Johnson, Pedro Lachs, and John van der Graaf, and the five who perished were Oscar Wessel, James M. Lynott, W. Robinson, Tony Nilsen, and _____ Cummings.

     The body of only one of the drowned was recovered, that of the steward, W. Robinson, which was buried on the bank north of the Gull Shoal Station.

     The fact that three life saving crews were promptly assembled on this occasion affords excellent testimony to the inestimable value of the telephone system of the Service, which is principally designed for precisely such emergencies. A single crew could not have accomplished what was done, and they could have received no assistance from beachmen, as, to the credit of these ever-ready brave men it should be stated, they often do, for the reason that the storm and consequent furious sea rolling clear across the island compelled the fishermen and other residents to stay at home and devote their utmost energies to the preservation of the lives of their families and themselves. Waste and desolation covered the entire region to an extent hitherto unknown even on that storm-beaten coast.

     Lieutenant C.E. Johnston, a most competent officer of the Revenue-Cutter Service, who investigated the circumstances of this wreck, closes his report with the following paragraph:

“There is no doubt that the surfmen did everything possible under the adverse conditions to save the lives of the people on this schooner. The storm was the worst in the recollection of any one now living on the Carolina Banks, and it is little short of a miracle that any one now lives to tell the tale of the wreck. If the master had not anchored, or if he had slipped his cables as soon as he reached the breakers, it is probable that all hands would have been saved, as the schooner would not have stopped until she was right up against the bank. Three other schooners, a barkentine, and a lightship all went ashore in the same general vicinity and in the same storm without anchoring, and the only loss of life from the five vessels was occasioned by a tremendous sea which boarded the barkentine when she first took bottom and washed four persons overboard. All the rest were rescued by the life savers.”

     The opinion of the survivors regarding the conduct of the life saving men appears from the following letter written by one of their number and signed by all, which was handed to keeper Pugh before they left the beach:

GULL SHOAL, August 21, 1899

This is to certify that the loss of the lives of the captain, three seamen, and one passenger of the late schooner Aaron Reppard wrecked near the above-named station was not because of any failure on the part of the life-saving crews to do their duty. They were at the scene of the wreck promptly, and put a line over her head stays, but we could not get it, and if we had we could not have done anything, as we had all we could do to hold on, as the vessel was rolling heavy and fast going to pieces. The life-saving crews did what they could to save our lives. BERNARD JOHNSON, First Mate ; PEDRO LACHS, Seaman ; JOHN VAN DER GRAFF, Seaman

Newspaper Articles:

Virginian Pilot, August 17, 1899
Virginia Pilot, August 20, 1899



Schooner Benjamin M. Wallace ~ 26 March 1904

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1904:

At 10.20 p.m. the N. patrol from Chicamacomico discovered this vessel ashore, fired two Coston signals to inform her that assistance was at hand, and then reported the facts to the station. The keeper telephoned the adjoining stations, New Inlet and Gull Shoal, then proceeded to the scene of the wreck with the crew, transporting the surfboat by wagon. The vessel had struck the beach in the vicinity of the N. Patrol house, but was now driving along the shore to the northward. She was followed by the Chicamacomico and New Inlet crews until about midnight, when she sank, about 1-1/2 miles S. of New Inlet and 300 yards off the beach. The three crews working together launched the surfboat, which proceeded to the wrecked vessel and it was found that the hull was under water and abandoned. The surfmen then pulled seaward, and made signals to notify the crew of the abandoned vessel that search was being made for them; these were soon answered by blasts of a fog horn, and about ½ mile distant 16 men, in four dories, were found. The dories were anchored, and the men with their clothing were taken into the surfboat and landed through the breakers. They were then taken to the New Inlet station and sheltered for three days. The next morning the crews of the New Inlet and Chicamacomico stations landed the dories which were left at anchor the previous night.

Newspaper Article:
New York Times, March 28, 1904

Schooner Emma C. Rommel ~ 8 January 1884

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

At half past 5 in the evening the patrol of the Gull Shoal Station (6th District), North Carolina, discovered the schooner Emma C. Rommel, of Camden, NJ, from Fernandina, FL, with a cargo of lumber and having a crew of 7 persons and two lady passengers, just as the vessel struck the bar about a mile and a half south of the station. The weather was thick and rainy, with a strong southeast gale, accompanied by a heavy sea. The patrol signaled to the people on board by burning his Coston light, and then hurried to the station for assistance. The beach apparatus was instantly started for the scene of the disaster, but before going far the men found it was impossible to drag it against the gale and were compelled to procure the aid of a pair of horses. They arrived at 7 o'clock opposite the vessel, and at 7.25 the Lyle gun was fired sending a line on board. The whip line and hawser soon followed and then the breeches buoy was sent out, and before midnight the entire party was landed and taken to the station; the ladies being sent thither in a wagon as soon as they reached the beach, and made as comfortable as possible. They were all taken care of until such time as they could proceed to their homes, the captain remaining there 30 days, or until what was saved from the wreck was finally disposed of. The vessel broke up in so short a time that the station crew were unable to save all their gear, and were compelled to cut the hawser to save as much as possible of it. In recognition of their services the captain wrote the following note to the life saving crew:

We, the captain, crew, and passengers, desire to express our sincere thanks to the keeper and crew of the station for their great promptness in rescuing us, and their unvarying kindness to us after we reached the station. Their promptness and efficiency are worthy of all commendation and deserves favorable recognition by the Department. WM. H. SLOAN, Master Schooner E.C. Rommel

Schooner Freddie Hencken ~ 26 February 1892

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1892:

GULL SHOAL LIFE-SAVING STATION, North Carolina, March 23, 1892

DEAR SIR: I wish to tender my thanks to Captain D.M. Pugh and crew of this station, and also to Captain E.O. Hooper and crew of Little Kinnakeet Station, and Captain J.H.W. Wescott and crew of the Chicamicomico Station, for their prompt assistance rendered to me, my wife, and my crew of seven men. After having been tossed about for four days in a terrible storm, with the loss of our steering gear, we finally stranded near this station, where we were safely landed by means of the breeches buoy at a quarter past 8 o’clock on the night of the 26th of February. We certainly feel very grateful for the kindness of these dear people. This Life-Saving Service institution is a grand and noble thing. Respectfully yours, JOHN A. MILLS, Late Master of Schooner Freddie Hencken

Schooner Florence ~ 5 January 1884

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

During the severe northeasterly gale and snow storm of January 5, the patrol of the Chicamicomico Station (6th District), North Carolina, discovered at half past 3 in the afternoon the schooner Florence, of Baltimore, MD, from Beaufort, NC, bound to Norfolk, VA, with a cargo of guano, stranded near the beach. He immediately notified the station crew, and the beach apparatus was run down opposite the vessel. The hawser was sent on board and the gear rigged. One of the surf men was sent on board to direct the operations, and the four persons comprising the vessel’s crew were soon handed and conducted to the station. Part of the crews of the New Inlet and Gull Shoal Stations (all the same district) assisted the Chicamicomico crew in working the gear. The vessel became a complete wreck. The following testimonial was received by the keeper of the station:

I was 8 miles north of Whale’s Head on January 5th, when at 8 a.m. the gale came, with a heavy snow; the wind being north by east, I had to send down the shore, and stranded at Chicamicomico. We had all the assistance any station could give, and were taken to the station, where we were treated with all the respect due any one and well cared for by all. John E. Ireland, Master of Schooner Florence

Schooner G.A. Kohler ~ 23 August 1933

Schooner G.A. Kohler

The American-owned G.A. Kohler was built in 1919 and was one of the last of the large sailing vessels. She sailed from the pier of the Redman-Vane company of Baltimore, MD on August 20, 1933. 
     A huge four-masted schooner, she was reported as “wallowing helplessly in the breakers a mile south of Gull Shoal Station,” when the full fury of a storm struck the Carolina banks the morning of August 23, 1933. Throughout the day and night, she remained there, showing distress signals, while the coastguardsmen stood helplessly by waiting for a break in the storm. The following morning, after hurricane winds started to subside, crews from Gull Shoal and Chicamacomico, led by Coast Guard Capt. John Allen Midgett, rescued the crew, which consisted of Captain George H. Hopkins, his wife, 8 crewmen and a dog. All were brought to shore safely using the Lyle gun and the Breeches buoy.
     After the hurricane tide subsided, the ship was left high and dry on the beach, far beyond the reach of all but the highest tides. The Kohler remained there for 10 years, until burned during WWII for her iron fittings. The captain had earlier sold the wreck to a local Avon resident for $150.
     Over time the remains of the wreck have been covered and uncovered by shifting sands. Her charred remnants remain—often obscured by shifting sand.

Photo made sometime between her wreckage and 1945.

  

Schooner Matilda D. Borda ~ 16 July 1906

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1907:

This vessel, coal laden and bound from Port Johnson, NY, to Savannah, GA, stranded on the North Carolina coast during smoky weather, striking the beach ¾ mile from the Gull Shoal station and 1 mile from the Little Kinnakeet station at 2.30 a.m. The keeper at Gull Shoal notified Little Kinnakeet station of the wreck, then launched surfboat and proceeded to her assistance, arriving alongside at 6 a.m. As nothing could be done toward floating the schooner, the surfmen landed the crew with their effects. The shipwrecked sailors were taken to the station, where they remained for 8 days. The vessel proved a total loss.

Schooner Nathaniel Lank ~ 22 January 1891

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1891:

The next fatal casualty occurred on January 22, 1891, at the wreck of the three-masted schooner, Nathaniel Lank, of Wilmington, DE. Her captain, N.J. Sipple, of Frederica, DE, was drowned. The Lank was a craft of 288 tons register, with a crew of 8 men. She stranded on the coast of North Carolina, about three and a half miles north of the Gull Shoal Station (6th District) at 4 o’clock a.m., while on her way to the Delaware Breakwater for orders, with a cargo of sugar from St. Thomas, West Indies. The weather was thick and rainy, accompanied by a fresh gale from the south-southeast, and the sea was running high and rough. She struck about 200 yards from the beach, a little south of the halfway point between the Chicamicomico and Gull Shoal Stations, just within the latter’s precinct. She was quickly discovered by the two patrols, who at once hurried to their respective stations with the alarm, and, after a brief consultation between the two keepers by telephone as to what appliances each should take with the the view of working in concert, they set out with their men to the scene of the wreck, the Gull Shoal crew taking their surfboat on its carriage, and the Chicamicomico their beach apparatus, as agreed upon. Before setting out keeper Pugh,, of Gull Shoal, set up two rockets for the twofold purpose of calling in his south patrol and signaling to the people on the stranded schooner that aid was coming. It was about 5:30 o’clock when he started, and fully an hour was consumed in reaching the place of operations, the tide being high and travel necessarily slow over the soft and yielding sand.

     The two crews arrived on the ground at about the same time. It was seen at a glance that the surf was too high for boat service. Keeper Wescott therefore turned his beach apparatus over to Pugh, within whose patrol limits the vessel lay, and placed himself and men under Pugh’s direction, and with this understanding to start with, the two crews worked skillfully and harmoniously together until the end for which they had assembled was accomplished. When all was in readiness the first shot from the gun carried the line over the spring stay between the main and mizzen masts. The crew were grouped on the forecastle and bowsprit, and apparently made no effort to get aft to reach this line, so when the beachmen observed this as the day dawned they put another shot line into use and threw it within easy grasp of the men. The whip was then bent on and the sailors began hauling it off, but when they had pulled it halfway to the schooner the shot line they were hauling it by snapped in two and communication was severed. But this mishap delayed operations only a short time, as a third shot was fired with the dry or shore end of the broken line attached, and this caught on the end of the flying jib boom and was quickly secured by the sailors. Greater caution was not observed by the latter in hauling the whip off, and being aided in this as much as possible by the surfmen, who would walk with both parts of it along the beach to windward to offset the current, and then suddenly slack out, they finally succeeded in getting the block into their hands and making it fast to the flying jib boom. The hawser quickly followed, and in due season the arrangement of the lines between the schooner and the shore was complete.

     The work of rescue was not begun by the sending off of the breeches buoy. There were 7 men in sight at this time at the bow of the vessel, the 8th man, who it appears was the captain, having gone aft and climbed into the starboard mizzen rigging. He had done this soon after the firing of the first shot. The survivors give no reason for his taking this step, and, perhaps, the best that can be advanced is that he thought, as the line just thrown had landed aloft on the after spring stay, no other one would be sent off, and that would have to be used. The gear worked smoothly, and all seven of the men forward were landed safely by 9 o’clock. By this time the schooner had gradually settled in the sand until she was almost entirely under water except the masts, which were still standing. She was also fast breaking up. Under these circumstances it was utterly impossible for the captain to get forward to the jib boom, where the breeches buoy hung in readiness for him should he reach it. The only way at that time to have got forward would have been by the spring stays between the mastheads, and he was doubtless in no condition then to attempt such a perilous feat. It was equally impossible to reach him with a boat, or for anyone to go off the buoy from the shore with any prospect of aiding him, as the surf was dashing wildly over the submerged hull between the bowsprit and the rigging, where he was. After the lapse of about three quarters of an hour, or at a quarter to 10 o’clock, he was observed to descend the rigging as though he meditated a dash for the bow of the vessel. But he had scarcely reached the sheer pole when he was swept away, and after battling desperately for a few moments with the waves in a vain effort to regain the rigging he sunk out of sight and was not seen until his lifeless body was cast up by the surf about half an hour later. Immediate efforts were made to resuscitate the body, but without success. It had been too long in the water and life was extinct. As the head and face were badly bruised it is quite likely that he was knocked insensible by contact with the wreckage very soon after being washed overboard.

     The 7 survivors lost all their effects, and were furnished with a change of dry clothing from the supply of the Women’s National Relief Association, besides shelter and sustenance until the following day, (23d), when passage was obtained for them on a small schooner to Roanoke Island, whence they could proceed by steamer to the mainland. Nothing was saved of the schooner or her cargo.

     The following paper was left by the castaways with keeper Pugh and by him forwarded to this office:

GULL SHOAL LIFE SAVING STATION, Sixth District, January 23, 1891

"The undersigned, crew of the schooner Nathanial Lank, wrecked on Chicamicomico Beach January 22, 1891, do hereby certify that every possible effort was made to save all the crew of that vessel by the keepers and surfmen of the Gull Shoal and Chicamicomico Life Saving Stations, that the drowning of the captain was the result of his own action, and that it was not by reason of any failure on the part of the life saving crews to discharge their duty. While we deeply regret the loss of our captain we desire to express thanks to the keepers and crews of said stations for their promptness in rescuing us and for the hospitality we received after reaching the Gull Shoal Station. HARRY SIPPLE, Mate ; ROBERT GREER ; PETER AUCKER ; HENRY KING ; JOHN SOBER ; L. SANDERAGE ; CHARLES H. WILLIAMS."

The Wilmington Morning Star, Wilmington, NC, 23 Jan 1891

Barkentine Priscilla ~ 17 August 1899

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

Broken into pieces and driven ashore by the tempest, 3 miles S. of station, with the 10 survivors of the crew clinging to the after part. The master’s wife and son, the mate, and a boy were washed overboard and lost before the wreck was driven upon the beach. The station patrolman, Rasmus S. Midgett, rescued the survivors at the risk of his own life by rushing down the bank into the surf and dragging them ashore. They were taken to station, provided with dry clothing from the stores of the Women’s National Relief Association, and, as these gave out, from the keeper’s own supply. The wounds of the injured ones were dressed, and they were all succored until able to leave for their homes. The bodies of the captain’s wife and son were recovered and properly interred N. of the station. (For detailed account see caption “Loss of Life.”) 

Wreck of the Barkentine Priscilla

The hurricane that wrecked the Reppard, as described in the preceding narration of the circumstances, did not attain to the full measure of its terrific power until August 17. The report of the Weather Bureau signal station at Hatteras says that on the morning of the 16th the wind reached a velocity of 50 miles an hour, increasing thereafter until at 4 o’clock on the morning of the 17th it was blowing at the rate of 70 miles. By noon it had increased to between 84 and 93 miles, while at 1 p.m. an occasional extreme of more than 120 miles an hour was recorded. The signal station was disabled at about that time, but the observer states that he believes the regular movement of the wind was not less than 100 miles an hour between 3 and 7 o’clock p.m. of that day. There were not more than four houses on Hatteras Island into which the tide did not rise to a depth ranging from 1 to 4 feet.

     It was near midnight of this day when the barkentine Priscilla, of Baltimore, MD, was blown ashore and broken to pieces, finally fetching up at 4 a.m. of the 18th about three miles south of the Gull Shoal Station and only about half a mile to the southward of the dismal remnants of the Reppard. The Priscilla was an American vessel of 643 ton net register, commanded by Captain Benjamin E. Springsteen, owned in Baltimore, and bound from that port to Rio de Janiero, Brazil, laden with a general cargo. She had on board 14 persons, 12 of whom comprised the officers and crew, the others being the captain’s wife, Virginia, and his young son, Elmer, 12 years of age.

     The Priscilla left Baltimore on Saturday, the 12th of August, and was towed down Chesapeake Bay as far as the James River channel, where she came to anchor and remained until Monday morning, August 14, when she proceeded to sea, passing out of the capes of Virginia at 6 a.m. and standing east under all sail, the wind being moderate from west-northwest and hauling to the northward. At noon Cape Henry bore 30 miles west. At midnight the breeze was very light, the barometer high, registering 30.20 inches, and the weather was clear. By Tuesday morning, the 15th, the wind had shifted to the northeast, and the sky was cloudy, with a light rain falling. These conditions remained unchanged until about midnight, when the breeze hauled east-northeast and increased so much that the skysail and jib topsail were taken in.

     On the morning of Wednesday, the 6th, the wind was blowing so hard that all the light sails were taken in, and by noonday it was found necessary to furl the spanker and upper topsail. The gale soon became more violent and the foresail was hauled up and furled, the lower topsail clewed up but blown away, and two reefs put into the mainsail, which was also lost, as well as the main staysail. Then the captain hove to under bare poles, heading southeast in an east-northeast tempest, and rapidly drifting to the south-southwest. He knew, although able to get no observation for 24 hours, that he must be only a little to the northward of Cape Hatteras, and he was doing his best “to get clear of it.” Of accomplishing that result, however, he must have entertained little, if any, hope.
     Early in the morning of Thursday, the 17th, after a night of distressing anxiety for every soul on board, the captain observed that the water was discolored, a fact which showed that he had drifted out of the Gulf Stream, and on throwing the lead at 5 o’clock the line showed but 25 fathoms and at 8 o’clock only 20. At one-hour intervals during the day the soundings varied from 20 to 17 fathoms until 8 o’clock p.m., when but 10 fathoms were found. “Then,” says the master, “I did not sound anymore. I knew that we were going ashore, and passed the word forward for all hands to prepare to save themselves.”

     This was very near the time when the observer of the Weather Bureau says the hurricane must have had a regular velocity of 100 miles an hour. Captain Springsteen says, “It was blowing a hurricane from the northeast, and the seas were running mountain high.” At 10 minutes past 9 p.m. the fatal moment arrived, and the vessel struck the bottom, lightly at first, and shipped a sea which smashed the cabin skylights, deluging all below. She did not touch again for something like 20 minutes, but then she struck with an awful shock, and thereafter continued to pound so heavily that the master sent the mate and second mate forward with orders to cut away the port rigging. The three masts instantly went by the board, falling to starboard, and the captain then ordered all hands on deck. The seas were not breaking over the hull with irresistible fury, and in a few moments Mrs. Springsteen, William Springsteen, the mate (also the captain’s son) and the ship’s boy, Fitzhugh Lee Goldsborough, were swept overboard, beyond the remotest possibility of aid. The boy Elmer, who was actually torn from his father’s arms, was in some way dashed back into the cabin, which was full of water, where his body was subsequently found.

     Fifteen or twenty minutes later, with a loud crash, the strong hull broke amidships into two parts, Fortunately all hands were congregated on one of these parts, where the stronger might encourage and perhaps assist the weaker or the wounded. This was the after portion, and it held together and continued to pound and drift about through a period of almost inconceivable terror lasting more than 5 hours. At length, about 4 o’clock in the morning of the 18th, Friday, it ceased to rise and fall, and the castaways then knew that they must be close in to shore; but weather was so thick, and the seas still continued to beat upon them with such violence, that they could not discern the land, and having no means of signaling could do no more than cling to their places and occasionally send up a cry of distress. 

     At 3 o’clock surfman Rasmus S. Midgett, of the Gull Shoal Station, set out on horseback to make the regular south patrol, and when he reached a point about three-fourths of a mile from the station he discovered buckets, barrels, boxes, and other articles coming ashore, which satisfied him that there was a wreck somewhere in the neighborhood. The surf was sweeping clear across the narrow strip or bank of sand which separates the ocean from Pamlico Sound, at times reaching to the saddle girths of his horse, and the night was so intensely dark that he could scarcely tell where he was going, but nevertheless he knew that the patrol must be made at all hazards, and besides, the rapidly multiplying evidence of disaster urged him on. When he had traveled a little more than 2 miles father he thought he detected the sound of voices and, pausing to listen, caught the outcries of the shipwrecked men. He could see nothing of them or of the wreck, but dismounting and proceeding toward the edge of the bank he soon made out a part of the vessel, with the forms of several persons crouching upon it, about a hundred yards distant.

     Here was a dilemma which called for the exercise of sound judgment and faultless courage. Midgett had consumed an hour and a half on his patrol before reaching the place, and to return to the station and bring back the life-saving crew was to sacrifice three hours more when every moment was precious. On the other hand, to undertake to save the lives of the shipwrecked men without aid was perhaps to throw away his own life and leave them utterly helpless until another patrol should be attempted, when all might have perished. Short time was spent in deliberation. He determined to do what he could alone and without delay.

     Selecting the first opportunity when a receding wave permitted, he ran down as close to the wreck as he could and shouted instructions for the men to jump overboard, one at a time, as the surf ran back, and that he would take care of them. Then retreating from the inrushing breakers to the higher part of the bank, he watched his chance to approach the wreck again, calling for one man to jump. Obeying his instructions a sailor would leap overboard and Midgett, in each instance, would seize him and drag him from the pursuing waves safe to the bank. In this manner, being compelled to venture closer and closer and more into danger, he rescued 7 men.

Priscilla Crewmen

     During all these laborious exertions he incurred much danger from the likely chance that on each occasion he and his burden might be caught by the breakers and swept out to sea. But now came far greater demands upon his courage and physical powers. There still remained upon the vessel three men so bruised and exhausted that they were unable to do as the others had done. But Midgett was not dismayed. To save these he must go right down into the sea close to the wreck, take them off and carry them bodily to the beach. Down the steep bank into the very jaws of death three times he descended and each time dragged away a helpless man and bore him up out of the angry waters to a place of safety. Ten lives saved were the priceless trophies of his valor. Seven of the men were still able to walk, and these he sent forward toward the station, while the other three he took to a safe place, and after giving his own coat to Captain Springsteen, rode on to summon the aid of his comrades.

Rasmus Midgett On the Wreck

     Keeper Pugh was on the beach when Midgett hove in sight, and upon hearing his amazing story ordered two of the surfmen to harness horses to their carts and proceed to bring up the disabled men. The other surfmen he directed to set up a stove in the sitting room and make a variety of thoughtful preparations for the welcome of the castaways. Imagination could hardly picture a more wretched company. When the vessel first encountered the breakers they were all sound men, well clad, with their clothing securely fastened about them; but the terrible buffeting they had sustained had stripped them almost naked, and their bodies were bruised, bleeding, and swollen, the sorriest cast, perhaps, being that of Captain Springsteen, who had received a ragged wound in the breast, inflicted by the almost deadly thrust of a rough piece of wreckage. As the poor fellows hobbled or were kindly borne with the hospitable walls of the station the surfmen quickly took them in hand, stripped off their fragments of apparel, washed their bodies, gently dressed their wounds, and then clothed them in dry undergarments and placed them quietly in comfortable beds. It was the end of a splendid day’s work, well worthy the admiration of the whole people, whose brave and single-hearted servants of humanity had performed it. Midgett, who bore the noblest part, was subsequently awarded a gold life-saving medal of honor by the Secretary of the Treasury, who transmitted with it a highly commendatory letter reciting the story of the brave man’s heroism.

SHIPWRECK LOG

Life-Saving Station: Gull Shoal; Dist. #6

Date of Disaster - August 17^th 1899
Name of Vessel - PriscillaRig and Tonnage - B.N.N. 600 ^12/100 tons
Hailing Port and Nationality - Baltimore, MD
Age - 13 years
Official Number - 150378
Name of Master - Benjamin E. Springsteen
Names of Owners - C. Morton Stewart & Co.
Where From - Baltimore, MD
Where bound - Rio Brazil
Number of crew, including Captain - Eleven
Number of passengers - three
Nature of cargo - general
Estimated value of vessel - 15,000 dollars
Estimated value of cargo - 45,000 dollars
Exact spot where wrecked - 3 miles South Gull Shoal LSS
Direction and distance from station - 3 miles South
Supposed cause of wreck (specifying particularly) - Blown ashore in harican [hurricane]
Nature of disaster, whether stranded, sunk, collision, etc. - Broken to pieces
Distance of vessel from shore at time of accident - Knot Known
Time of day or night - Between 9 p.m. & 4 a.m.
State of wind and weather - NE harican thick
State of tide and sea - verry high sea verry high tide
Time of discovery of wreck - 4:30 a.m..
By whom discovered - R.S. Midgett Sr.
Time of arrival of station crew at wreck - R.S. Midgett Saved Crew
Time of return of station crew from wreck - Reported about 5 a.m.
Was life-boat used? - No
Was surf-boat used? - No
Was life-raft used? - No
Was mortar, Lyle gun or rocket used? - No
Was heaving stick used? - No
Was life car used? - No
Was breeches-bouy used? - No
Number of lives saved, with names and residence - Capt. Benjamin E. Springsteen Baltimore, Wm. I. Henderson (cook) Baltimore, Frank A. Mason Baltimore, Samuel H. Cer? Baltimore, MD, John Evans Baltimore, MD, Olson van Nestraff? Philadelphia, Andrew Namson? Norway, Philip Hallet London, Eng, Barnard Robinson, Denmark & Karl Copenagen, Denmark
Number of lives lost, with names and residence - 1st Mate Wm. Springsteen Baltimore, Virginia Springsteen Baltimore, Elmer Springsteen Baltimore, Fitsulee Goldsborough VA
State fully the circumstances of the loss of each life - Cap^ts wife & first mate was washed overboard before wreck was seen from shore.
State damage, if any, to boat or apparatus - no
Was vessel saved or lost? - Lost
Estimated value of cargo saved, and its condition - $15,000 Dollars damaged
Estimated value of cargo lost - 30,000 Dollars
Amount of insurance on vessel - not known
Amount of insurance on cargo - not known
Number of persons sheltered at station, and how long - 9 for 3 days, Capt. for 14 days
Number of persons found after death and cared for - two
Remarks:
     R.S. Midgett Surfman No. 1 on South patrol from 3 a.m. to sunrise he found a wreck Broken to pieces 3 miles South of Station and on the stern was ten men he managed to save them all with out coming to Station to report after he got them on the beatch he got on his horse and come to station and reported at about 5 p.m.  I at once sent two of my crew with horses and carts to bring the Capt and two other men that was hurt badly the other seven walked to station they were all naked & badly bruised up after a very short time the men come north.  Capt and other two we gave whisky brandy & hot coffee dry clothes as best we could dressed the wounds and after a while gave them food.  The Capts wife washed up just South of Station about 6 a.m. in good condition.  I had her brought to Station cleaned up nicely & shrouded later in the day a young son of the Capt was found in cabbin of wreck and brought to Station and washed & dressed and laid out beside his mother's ____ ____.  on the next day I had boxes made and burried them.  the crew remained at Station three? day I ____.  I assisted Capt to send them to Elizabeth City, NC.  The Capt remained at Station untill Sept 1^st when he left for home in and improved condition in company with Capt. Rillbury? and Mr. John Stewart of Baltimore who come down to look after wreck & cargo whitch was sold at public Sale by wreck master.
Date of Report: Sept 8^th, 1899
     /s/ D.M. Pugh, Keeper

Fisherman & Farmer, August 25, 1899

Barkentine Ravenswood ~ 13 October 1893

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal ear ending June 30, 1894:

Driven ashore in severe gale and sea; assistance by boat impossible. Took apparatus cart along beach, opposite point where she was about to fetch up, and, when she struck, landed her crew of 10 men with breeches buoy, assisted by crews of New Inlet and Gull Shoal stations. Sheltered and cared for ship’s company at station, giving proper medical assistance to master, who was ill. Succored portion of crew 16 days. (See letter of acknowledgement.)

CHICAMICOMICO LIFE SAVING STATION, NORTH CAROLINA, October 31, 1893

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: The (British) barkentine Ravenswood, while on a voyage from Boston for Satilla River, Georgia, on Friday, October 13, 1893, encountered a terrific storm and was stranded on the North Carolina beach about noon. We can not speak too highly of the promptness shown by Captain J.H. Westcott and noble crew in rescuing us from a perilous position. Although the sail was lashing furiously over the wreck, the first shot line was carried successfully over us, the distance being about three hundred yards, and, after hauling the whip line and hawser on board, in about thirty minutes afterwards we were all safely landed on the beach and conveyed to the station, where we were cared for and treated with the greatest kindness. A few days later our captain, Edward Kennedy, was taken sick and confined to his bed. I cannot express our gratitude for the generosity shown by Captain Wescott in supplying the wants of the sick, in sending for doctors and securing extra food, and lots of other home comforts. Keeper L.B. Midgett and crew of New Inlet has our gratitude and thanks, and also keeper D.M. Pugh and crew of Gull Shoal, in rendering us their assistance in time of need. FREEMAN SLAWENWHITE, mate ; NATHAN S. GERARD, Second mate, Barkentine Ravenswood

But What Happened to the Rowena? ~ 12 August 1887

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

At about half past 2 o’clock the small schooner Rowena, with a load of wood, ran ashore off the Gull Shoal Station (Sixth District) coast of North Carolina. The keeper, who was on his way to pilot her in to the station, where she was to discharge a part of her cargo, found, after getting on board, that it would be necessary to lighten the vessel to float her. Accordingly a large canoe belonging to the schooner was loaded with wood, and the captain, David C. Midgett, a regular surfman of the Chicamicomico Station in the active season, and his brother, a boy about twelve years old, started for the shore. When near the middle of Gull Shoal Channel the latter, in reaching over the side of the boat for the jib sheet, which was trailing in the water, fell overboard. Captain Midgett at once brought the canoe to the wind, and quickly divesting himself of his shoes and superfluous clothing, sprant to his brother’s rescue. The keeper, who was in his own skiff, several hundred yards in advance of the others, seeing the mishap, speedily went about and put back, but before he could reach the scene the boy in his struggles had drawn the surfman under twice, causing him to lose his hold. Just as he was going down the third time, the keeper succeeded in grasping him and pulled him, apparently lifeless, into the boat, but the boy being unfortunately out of reach sank and did not rise again. No time was lost in getting the rescued man ashore, where the methods employed in the service to restore vitality were immediately put in practice. The keeper of the Chicamicomico Station had arrived and diligently assisted in the work. The case at first seemed hopeless, but after three hours of most vigorous and perservering effort, the prescribed treatment being carefully adhered to, the patient was completely resuscitated. The body of the boy was recovered the following morning and delivered to the parents. 

BUT WHAT HAPPENED TO THE ROWENA?

Schooner Raymond T. Maull ~ 21 March 1906

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1906:

Became water-logged when 10 miles off the coast, drifted to shore and foundered within ½ mile of Gull Shoal life-saving station, where she was discovered by a surfman at 2.30 a.m. The adjacent stations wee at once informed of the casualty by telephone, and the life savers assembled at the wreck, launched a boat successfully through a high-running surf, and pulled to the rescue of the imperiled sailors. The entire crew, 7 in all, were landed by the surfmen without mishap and conveyed with their effects by team to the Chicamacomico station, where they were succored until able to depart for their homes. The schooner was a total loss.

Barge Saxon ~ 12 October 1907

The annals of the service justify the assertion that a considerable number of marine disasters recorded in the annual reports under the caption "Loss of Life" would find other classification did the imperiled mariners but remain aboard ship until the life savers could bring them to safety. The wreck of the Saxon is a case in point.
   The Saxon was originally a steamer of 1,193 tons. She was built in Philadelphia in 1862. In 1903 she was remodeled into a barge of 555 tons. When she made her last voyage she was owned by the Atlantic Coast Lumber Company, of New York, but her port of registry was Georgetown, South Carolina. On the morning of October 11, 1908, she left her home port in tow of the steamer Katahdin with a cargo of lumber consigned to Philadelphia. She carried a crew of four--the master Frank Pilong; mate, Fred Lund; one seaman (a negro); and a cook. The names of the seaman and cook could not be ascertained.
   On the afternoon of the 12th, when the two vessels were off Cape Hatteras, they ran into rough weather, and after laboring in the seas several hours parted their towline, the barge going ashore 2-1/2 miles south of the Gull Shoal station on the coast of North Carolina. Only one of the four men on board, the mate (Lund), reached shore alive. Lund's story of what transpired after the parting of the hawser is as follows:
   When the towline parted we ran up the forestaysail, foresail, and mainsail on the barge, and tried to stand offshore on the port tack, but could do nothing, as we lay in the trough of the sea. The Katahdin came up and told our captain to try to get into Hatteras on the starboard tack, but we found that we could not do anything with her. The Katahdin came up again shortly after wards and tried to pass us a 3-inch heaving line, but missed. The second time she tried we got the line and began hauling it in, but the steamer went ahead before we got the hawser on board and the running line parted. The Katahdin then signaled us to anchor. I sounded and found a little over 3-1/2 fathoms of water. We let go our anchor, running out about 45 fathoms of chair, but it would not hold in the sea and current, and the Saxon dragged into the breakers and stranded. This was somewhere near midnight. We made no distress signals, as we had only the red and green side lights. We had no anchor light, how had we any chance to put up any. We started to throw over the deck load, but the seas were breaking over the barge and she was pounding so hard that the captain ordered the boat launched--a 14-1/2 foot metal boat--his intention being to try to get aboard the Katahdin which was lying by some distance seaward of us. We got the boat in the water with all hands in it and shoved off. The captain and I had the oars. The seaman and cook could not row; no one was steering. We had scarcely got away from the side of the vessel, however, when a sea came along and capsized us. I got clear and swam ashore; I do not know what became of the rest. I was washed back several times but finally got ashore breast of the lay a house and crawled up there very much exhausted. I stayed in the lay house until daylight. I saw the lights of the lifesavers on the beach and heard them fire the wreck gun, but was too weak to make my presence known. At daylight I found I was able to walk, and went up abreast of the Saxon where the lifesavers were. They looked out for me and sent me to the station.
   About 9 o'clock on the night of the disaster, when Surf man W.B. Miller, of the Little Kinnakeet lifesaving station, was covering the north patrol, he saw a white light seaward which he took to be the masthead light of a steamer standing in toward the beach, heading about WSE. No other lights were visible. He continued to watch the light as he want along, and when he neared the halfway house, marking the northern limit of his beat, he saw from the light that the vessel had come to and headed about NNE and, as he thought, stood off at slow speed. The surf man says, in his testimony given at the official investigation of the case, that he thought the vessel acted "very queer," but that he did not think she was in any danger of coming ashore, as he had often seen steamers haul up that way in bad weather such as prevailed that night. After finishing his patrol he reported what he had seen to his relief, but neither surf man considered the matter of sufficient importance to mention it to the keeper.
   Surfman A.V. Midgett, of the Little Kinnakeet station, who covered the north patrol from midnight to 3 a.m., also saw the masthead light of the steamer offshore standing about northeast as he was starting out along the beach. When he had gone about half a mile on the trip outward he saw the two side lights of another vessel in the same general direction, and from the range he thought this last vessel must be ashore. He was making his patrol mounted, and he urged his horse forward that he might verify or disprove his suspicion. When he reached the halfway house he found that the vessel was some distance farther north. Continuing, he discovered her in the breakers some 250 yards from the beach. This was about 12:30 a.m. As he stood watching the vessel he saw a rocket go up in the direction of Gull Shoal, and knew that the crew of the station at that place had also discovered the wreck. As the scene of the stranding was nearer Gull Shoal than his own station, Surfman Midgett rode on northward with the intention of assisting the Gull Shoal crew in getting out their wreck apparatus and bringing it down the beach, they have no team available for that purpose. Before reaching the Gull Shoal station he met three surf men on their way to the wreck, who informed him that their keeper, Capt. Zera G. Burrus, of Gull Shoal, had telephoned for the team at the Chicamacomico station, several miles above Gull Shoal. Midgett therefore turned back with the surf men, and on coming again to the wreck found Capt. Edward O. Hooper, of Little Kinnakeet, on the scene with his crew, he having been apprised of the disaster by telephone from Gull Shoal. When Captain Hooper reached the vessel he had a fire made to show anyone aboard the wreck that help was at hand, and sent some of the surf men down along the beach to look for anybody who might come ashore. "At this time," says Captain Hooper in his testimony, "the wind was strong from the NNE, the weather was clear and cold, the sea and surf high, and there was a strong southerly current running. The stranded vessel could be seen about 200 yards offshore on the outer bar heading southward, the seas breaking over her, lumber washing overboard, sails lowered, and two side lights burning. A light could also be seen through the cabin window, but there were no signs of life on board."
   The south patrol from Gull Shoal reported a light offshore down the beach about 11:30 p.m. Keeper Burrus at once ordered all hands to stand by and be ready, and sent surf man R.A. Grey out to make a closer investigation. The surfman came back a little after midnight and reported a wreck. As already show, upon learning of the wreck, Captain Burrus sent up a rocked and telephoned to Keeper Midgett, at Chicamacomico, for a team to haul his apparatus. He then notified Keeper Hooper, at Little Kinnakeet, and sent three of his surf men on ahead to stand by the vessel while he and the rest of his crew made everything ready to start when the horses should arrive. The team came at one o'clock a.m. and the apparatus cart, loaded with wreck gun, lines, and breeches buoy, was on the beach abreast of the vessel an hour later.
   A number 9 line, projected by 6 ounces of powder, was first fired toward the wreck at an elevation of 22 degrees, but missed the mark, falling to leeward. A second line (a number 7), carried by a 5-ounce charge and aimed at 18 degrees elevation, was next sent over the wreck, falling abaft of the mainmast. Captain Burrus then gave the signal to haul off, but could get no answer. He thereupon sent two surf men south along the beach to see if anyone had come ashore or if any bodies had been washed up, but all they found was the little boat in which, as it after wards proved, the sailors had undertaken to leave the ship. Captain Burrus then sent the team back to Gull Shoal for the surf boat, thinking to board the wreck upon its arrival.
   While the perplexed lifesavers were grouped on the beach awaiting the coming of the surf boat, Mate Lund put in his appearance and soon cleared up the mysterious features of the night's tragic event.
   The service crews returned to their stations about 7:30 a.m. The Kathahdin, whose lights could be seen offshore while the lifesavers were trying to establish communications with the wreck, came in near the Saxon after daylight, and, seeing that the vessel was lost, turn about and steamed northward.
   Asked by the investigating officer whether or not the crew of the Saxon could have been saved had they stayed aboard their vessel, Keeper Burrus replied:
  Yes, we would have saved them, every one, without any trouble. The second shot put the line across the deck abaft the mainmast, and the gear could have been rigged in a few minutes. The masts stood until about 2 p.m., October 14. If the anchor chair had been slipped, the Saxon would have come over the reef and on the beach. On the 14th the mate and myself went aboard the wreck, but could find no papers or anything regarding the crew. Everything movable had been washed away.
   The barge became a total loss, but a considerable portion of the lumber she carried was saved. The body of the cook was found by members of the Cape Hatteras lifesaving crew on October 16, a dozen miles from the scene of the disaster. The body of the negro seaman was picked up by the Big Kinnakeet Crew on the 18th.