Schooner Alfred Brabrook ~ 7 March 1899

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

About 3.40 a.m., patrol discovered this vessel about 2 miles NNE. Of the station. He at once reported to the keeper, who called up Little Kinnakeet and Chicamacomico stations, asking their assistance. Arrived with beach apparatus opposite the vessel in about ½ hour. The gale was very heavy and the surf too high to make an attempt to board the vessel; the keeper accordingly fired a line over her. The line was found and the crew bent on a heavier line which was hauled ashore. Then sent off the whip, but, owing to strong current, it fouled so much that great delay was occasioned in clearing it, and the same trouble occurred in sending off the hawser. It was early 11 a.m., before the gear was in readiness for work. Then made 8 trips of the breeches buoy, landing the 8 persons who comprised the crew of the schooner. Took them to the station an supplied them with dry clothes from the supplies of the Women’s National Relief Association. Next day boarded the wreck and brought off all of the personal effects. The vessel was a total loss. He master remained at the station for 18 days; the remainder of the shipwrecked men remained but two days. (See letter of acknowledgment.)

NORFOLK, VIRGINIA, March 22, 1899

DEAR SIRS: I desire to express thanks to the keeper and crew of the Gull Shoal Life-Saving Station for the timely assistance rendered to the schooner Alfred Brabrook on March 7, when she was stranded 2 miles from their station, in landing all safely in the breeches buoy. We were taken to the station and cared for with dry clothing and kind attention. Very respectfully, R.W. GARLAND, Master

Breeches Buoy

Schooner Annie E. Pierce ~ 22 February 1892

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

On February 22, 1892, the schooner Annie E. Pierce, of Somers Point, NJ, bound from Bogue Inlet, North Carolina, to New Bedford, MA, was beached by her master at a point two and one quarter miles south of the Little Kinnakeet Station (6th District), North Carolina, and the death of Alonzo Driscoll, the mate of the vessel, occurred in consequence. As the schooner came into view from seaward through the rain and mist of that stormy February morning, she was espied by a small boy, who called attention to her. At once the keeper saw from the direction she was steering that the vessel would soon be aground, and he made immediate preparations to render assistance. The adjoining stations were spoken by telephone, and in response the keeper and crew of the Gull Shoal Station immediately repaired to the spot indicated, while the keeper of the Big Kinnakeet Station came with horses to assist in hauling the beach cart. In about three-quarters of an hour from the time the vessel was first seen the three life saving crews were upon the beach near the vessel, which had stranded about 150 yards out. Operations began forthwith, under the direction of the keeper of the Little Kinnakeet Station. Communication was soon established, and in less than an hour the entire crew were landed with the beach apparatus, excepting the mate, who had been killed by a heavy sea before the vessel stranded.

     It appears from the testimony of the master that in the forenoon of the preceding date, when off Cape Henry, VA, the weather became thick and the wind came out from the northeast, increasing to the force of a gale and creating a rough sea. The vessel was then hove to under a close-reefer mainsail, and made good weather until the straps of the main sheet block suddenly parted, carrying away the main boom. This unfortunate accident made it necessary to run back down the coast before the wind, but finding that a course clear of the Hatteras Shoals could not be made, as the soundings on the morning of February 22 indicated that the current was sweeping the vessel toward the land, the master resolved to beach her as a final means of safety. The beakers were seen at about 11 0’clock, although the land was not then visible. Putting the helm to port, so as to run head on, the captain ordered all hands into the cabin, as the safest place when passing through the breakers. While going over the outer bar an immense sea broke over the stern, smashing the yawl and bursting into the cabin with terrific force. At this time the mate, Alonzo Driscoll, of Atlantic City, NJ, stood within the cabin holding the doors together, and was therefore directly in the path of the wave, which tore away the doors and sent one of them with fatal violence against him, to all appearances causing instant death. The crew rushed out of the cabin and climbed into the rigging. The captain followed, after hastily examining the mate; but while he was making his way forward the vessel was again swept by a sea, which left him helpless with a broken leg. By slow and painful movements he crawled to the cabin and remained there until two members of his crew placed him in the buoy, which by this time had been sent off. Upon landing, the captain was carefully wrapped in blankets and sent to the Little Kinnakeet Station in the keeper’s cart, where he received all possible attention, the keeper doing the best he could with the appliances and remedies of the station medicine chest in dressing the injured limb and alleviating its pain.

     The crew were also cared for at the station, where they remained for a period of 9 days, until the state of the weather permitted their departure across the sound to the mainland. The isolation of the narrow strip of land on which the life saving station is situated is such that no physician could be secured to give the captain needed treatment. Efforts were made to obtain surgical aid from the mainland, but the severe gale and high sea which continued several days prevented until March 1, when the revenue cutter Winona, from Newbern, bearing a surgeon of the Marine Hospital Service, reached the station in response to a dispatch from the Department. The master then received proper professional care, and on the following day was conveyed to Newbern on the cutter. The high surf prevented the launching of the boat until the third day after the occurrence of the wreck, when a successful trip was made to her, and the mate’s body and the clothing of the crew were brought on shore. The body was prepared for burial at the station, and then carefully laid to rest in the cemetery of the neighborhood, after funeral ceremonies befitting sad occasion, in the presence of his late comrades. The clothing supplied by the Women’s National Relief Association was drawn upon for the urgent necessities of the master, as well as in preparing for burial the remains of the mate.

     In addition to many verbal expressions of gratitude for the kind attentions received while sojourning at the station, written statements were made by the master and crew of the lost vessel. A disposition, executed February 25, 1892, before Samuel R. Hazen, a notary public, previous to the official investigation of the unhappy accident is given below:

We, the undersigned, captain and crew of the schooner Annie E. Pierce, which was wrecked near Little Kinnakeet Life-Saving Station, despose and say that the made, Alonzo Driscoll, was instantly killed by the sea as the schooner was crossing the outer bar; also, just before the vessel stranded, the captain’s leg was broken by the violence of the sea. This loss of life and injury to limb happened before the vessel struck the shore, and was in nowise the fault of the life-saving crew. We also state that the crew of the Little Kinnakeet Station were promptly on hand and rendered all possible assistance. JOSEPH R. SOMERS, RISLEY SOMERS, GEO. J. LODER, EDWARD DRISCOLL, of the schooner Annie E. Pierce

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 Blanche Hopkins ~ 11 April 1905

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1905:

At midnight the patrol returned to the station and reported that he had sighted a vessel perilously near the beach and warned her of the danger by burning a Coston signal. Before she could heed the warning she stranded, 2-34 miles N. by W. of the station. The disaster was at once reported to the Chicamacomico and Little Kinnakeet stations, and the three crews set out in the surfboats to the rescue. Upon arriving alongside they found the vessel full of water and the crew ready to abandon her. The entire crew, consisting of 11 men, together with their personal effects, were taken from the wreck and brought to the station, and succored for two days, when they proceeded to their homes. The vessel was lost.

Schooner Charles ~ 5 October 1881

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Services for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1882:

At 11 a.m., during the prevalence of a heavy gale from the north-northeast, the weather being squally and thick, the lookout at Station No. 20 (6th District), Little Kinnakeet, North Carolina, sighted a small schooner under close-reefer foresail and jib scudding down the coast before the wind. When nearly abreast of the station she was observed to haul in towards the land, as though it was intended to beach her. The life saving crew at once started out with their apparatus to her assistance.

     When near the surf another schooner was seen coming from the northward and also apparently edging in towards the beach. The first schooner, which proved to be the Charles, 33 tons register, of Beaufort, North Carolina, struck about a mile south of the station soon after the life saving crew got out. She went head on with the seas sweeping her deck from one end to the other, and did not fetch up until most high and dry. The surfmen pushed forward with all the haste possible, and in a few minutes were abreast of the vessel. She was so well up that one of the surfmen waded out with the whip line until he was waist deep in the surf, and then grasping the gear of the martingale managed to climb on board and make the tail block fast to the foremast, for the purpose of aiding the landing of her crew.

     Three persons were on board—two men and a boy. They refused to leave the vessel until their effects could be gathered together, the captain descending to the cabin and locking himself in. There was no time for parleying, as the other schooner was fast nearing the breakers and the life saving crew must proceed to her as quickly as possible. The captain was therefore informed that if he desired the assistance of the station crew it must be accepted at once. This brought him to reason, and he and his crew were soon transferred to the shore and conducted to the station.

     The Charles was from Broad Creek, Neuse River, North Carolina, bound to Baltimore, MD with a cargo of lumber. The captain reported encountering the first of the gale the night previous when to the northward, abreast of Currituck Beach light, and that he had lost his yawl and most of the deck load, besides springing the fore-gaff. By the time the latter was repaired so as to carry sail on it the storm had increased to such severity that he was compelled to run before it and ultimately to beach the vessel to save himself and crew. The hull of the schooner being uninjured the captain subsequently contracted with a party to haul her across the beach and launch her in Pamlico Sound, and thus saved his vessel, he and his crew receiving shelter at the station while the work was going on.

NOTE: See also the McColly, rescued immediately after the Charles.

Schooner General S.E. Merwin ~ 4 March 1901

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1901:

Stranded ½ mile SSE. of station at 3:15 a.m. Station crew hauled the surfboat to the beach abreast the wreck, launched it, and boarded the wreck at 4:30 a.m., the crews from the Little Kinnakeet and Chicamacomico stations assisting. The schooner’s crew of 7 men were safely landed in the surfboat, and afterwards their personal property and the schooner’s boat were taken ashore. The master was succored at the station for 5 days, in order that he might look after the wreck which became a total loss. (See letter of acknowledgement.)

GULL SHOAL LIFE-SAVING STATION, March 9, 1901

DEAR SIR: I wish, through you, to extend the thanks of my crew and myself to the brave keeper and crew of this station for their prompt and valuable services in rescuing us through the heavy surf with surfboat, as the schooner lay too far from shore to use the beach apparatus, and she was fast filling up. Keeper D.M. Pugh would have come to our assistance sooner if he had not had to wait for two men from the crew of one of the adjacent stations to help man his boat. We also wish to thank them, one and all, for their generous treatment while we stayed at their station; and I personally wish to thank Captain Pugh for the personal aid which he rendered me while I remained there. I remain yours, very respectfully, J.F. RUTLEDGE, Master of the Schooner Gen’l S.E. Merwin

Schooner Henry H. Keeney ~ 28/29 March 1890

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1890:

The large coal-ladened schooner William H. Keeney, of New York, stranded at 4 o’clock in the morning of the earlier of these dates, about eight hundred yards southeast of the Little Kinnakeet Station (Sixth District) coast of North Carolina, and some three hundred yards off shore. She was on a voyage from Baltimore, Maryland to Savannah, Georgia, at the time and, in beating down the coast against a strong southerly wind, stood too long on the inshore tack, the weather being hazy, and ran aground. Three-quarter of an hour later she was discovered by one of the station men, the regular patrolman being father down the beach. The alarm was immediately given, and, while the surfmen were making ready to run out with the apparatus cart, the keeper sent a man to burn a signal near the schooner and then telephoned to the Big Kinnakeet and Gull Shoal Stations for assistance. They responded promptly to the call and, not being burdened with any gear, were soon on the scene. At 5 o’clock the crew of the Little Kinnakeet Station were abreast of the vessel, and five minutes later a shot was fired from the beach gun. This fell short. Again the gun was trained, with a change of elevation, and fired, but with a like result. A lighter line was then bent to the projectile and a third trial was made. This time the line fell across the spanker boom, and at a signal from the life-savers the sailors hauled the whip line on board and made if fast to the mizzenmast. In the meantime the wind had veered to south-southwest and increased to a fresh gale. In sending the hawser on board the whip worked very hard and the cause of the trouble was not explained until the first man (the captain) was landed, with much difficulty, in the breeches boy, when he reported that the sheave had spilt out of the tailblock. Another block was procured and sent off on the same line. A delay in nearly a half an hour was occasioned by this accident. The six remaining members of the Keeney’s crew were soon brought ashore, nothing further occurring to interfere with the work, when all were taken to the station and given stimulants to counteract the effect of their long exposure in wet clothing. All of the gear, with the exception of the hawser, which the keeper preferred to leave attached to the schooner for the present rather than to cut it, was conveyed to the station and put in order. As soon as the residents in the vicinity learned of the wreck many of them hurried to the beach and ably assisted the surfmen in the rescue of the crew, which was rendered very laborious owing to the heavy wind and strong coast current. The following day the crews of the Big and Little Kinnakeet Stations made three trips to the schooner in the surfboat of the latter-named station, the wind and sea having sufficiently moderated, and brought ashore the effects of the sailors, some small articles of ship’s stores, and the schooner’s sails. It is seldom that a vessel, particularly when loaded, once fairly lodged on the treacherous sands of the North Carolina beach is ever floated off, and this one proved no exception—the Keeney and her cargo became a total loss. The wreck was sold on April 1st, and two days later her crew left the station for their homes. They gave the keeper the following letter when they departed:

LITTLE KINNAKEET LIFE-SAVING STATION.

“Our vessel having been wrecked near the above-named station on the morning of March 28, 1890, we with to commend the keeper and crew of said station for their prompt, cool, and courageous work in saving our lives by landing us from the wreck. And we wish also to thank them for their kind treatment while at the station. We feel that we can not with the pen adequately describe our feelings of gratitude to the United States Life-Saving Service. SAMUEL LIPPINCOTT, Master. WILLIAM H. NUGENT, First Mate. ANDREAS NELSEN, Second Mate. N. JENSEN, Steward. C. ALLSTON, Seaman. CHAS. JONES, Seaman, A.B. WILLIS, Seaman

Schooner H.W. McColly ~ 5 October 1881

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Services for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1882:

By the time the crew of the Charles were safely ashore, the schooner which the life saving crew had seem coming down the coast astern of her had also stranded about a quarter of a mile south of the station. She struck the bar at about noon. The life saving crew, No. 20 (6th District) hurried toward her as quickly as the bad condition of the beach would permit, the water in some places being almost knee deep at the foot of the beach hills, well above ordinary high-water mark. To add to the difficulties of travel the wind blew a furious gale right in their teeth.

     As afterwards learned, the schooner was the H.W. McColly, of New York, 111 tons measurement, bound from Broad Creek, Neuse River, North Carolina, for Philadelphia, with a full cargo of pine lumber. Her crew numbered 5 men, all told. Like the Charles, she had encountered the first outburst of the gale the previous night, when far to the northward, and by morning had lost most of her sails, part of the deck load, and was leaking badly. In this condition she was run ashore, having scudded before the gale until it became no longer safe to do so; her captain, from his knowledge of the coast and of the existence of life saving stations, realizing that it was the only chance he and his men had for their lives. The schooner brought up on the outer bar, about 200 yards from the beach. She lay stern to the sea, which at once commenced breaking over her with such irresistible volume that the crew were compelled to take to the rigging for safety, the captain ascending at the main while the rest went up forward.

     By the time the life saving crew arrived the sea and current had cut the vessel’s stern around off shore. The wreck gun was soon placed in position and fired, the shot lodging the line across the end of the jib boom. Watching their opportunity between the seas the men in the fore-rigging quickly descended and went out on the boom and secured the shot line, and by that means, after considerable difficulty, owing to the action of the current upon the lines, succeeded in getting hold of the whip, the tail block of which they made fast to the flying jib stay. The hawser was then sent off, and also made fast above the block. At this moment the crew of Station No. 21 arrived upon the scene, and with their assistance the hawser was quickly tautened, and everything arranged in working order for bringing the people ashore.

     While the life saving crews were hauling the breeches boy off, however, an accident occurred which, as events proved, nearly resulted fatally. The schooner had during this time gradually swung around until her head pointed to the northward, thus bringing the jib, which remained set, flat aback. This had the effect of canting her bow off shore and throwing her stern toward the beach, thus fouling the lines. The strain was too much for the hawser, as it stretched and surged, for after the men on the beach had slacked as much of it as they dared without letting go altogether it snapped in twain, the sudden jerk throwing the mate from the jib boom into the surf. The man was at once swept by the current to the southward, along the shore. Seeing his peril, three surfmen quickly donned their cork life belts and followed down the beach to a point some 300 yards distant, where, by venturing out until the surf actually broke over their heads, they succeeding in reaching him and bringing him safely ashore. He was pretty well exhausted when rescued but stoutly refused to go to the station for shelter until he could see his shipmates also safe on land.

     The schooner once started from where she first struck now began working along the bar to the southward and ere long the tail of the whip block also parted, thus for the time completely severing connection with the beach. The life saving crews quickly hauled the lines out of the surge, and after clearing them of turns and kinks reloaded the cart and moved along abreast of the schooner, watching an opportunity to again use the gun. It soon came and the line was once more dropped within reach of the people on board. At this time the schooner was lying parallel with the beach, head to the northward, having turned completely around since leaving her first position. The whip was again hauled off and the tail block made fast as before, to the flying jib stay.

     When this was done the beachmen, as a precautionary measure, sent off four life preservers. Three of them were secured and put on by the steward and two seamen, who were thus made comparatively safe. The other life preserver fouled in the wreckage alongside and was lost, leaving one man, the captain, without any. It was extremely fortunate that even three of the belts reached them, for they were scarcely in their possession when the schooner again swung around with the same result as before, viz, the parting of the line. At the time it broke one of the sailors had just started in an attempt to reach the beach hand over hand on the line. He was of course thrown into the surf, but by great good luck he managed to retain his grasp until quickly drawn ashore by the life saving crews. He was slightly injured by contact in the surf with floating lumber from the deck load, but a little brandy from the medicine chest soon revived him.

     As soon as the lines were rearranged, another shot was fired. The schooner changed her position so rapidly, however, that the line fell beyond reach of those on board. It was quickly hauled back and the fourth fire dropped it once more over the head stays. In the meantime the vessel was fast becoming a wreck. The stern had been burst in and the water alongside and to leeward was thickly strewn with lumber and wreck stuff. Scarcely had the remaining men in the rigging secured the shot line for the third time when it was cut by contact with floating wreckage. With praiseworthy perseverance the surfmen again hauled back the broken line, and, after changing it end for end, again shot it over the vessel’s jib boom. The bight of it, as the current swept it alongside was secured by the sailors in the rigging, but they were so benumbed and stiff, and in such an awkward position, that their effort to haul out the whip line failed. As the situation became more and more critical, the two men who had life preservers on resolved to attempt swimming to the beach, leaving the captain alone in the rigging. They had scarcely left her when the schooner fell over on her side. It should be remembered that during all this time she had kept steadily in motion, preserving the same relative distance from the shore, with a mad whirl of waters between, which would have swamped any boat attempting to leave the beach. The two men, buoyed upon the crests of the waves by the cork belts, gradually worked themselves shoreward and were at last thrown within reach of the surfmen, who, joining hands, waded out as far as possible, grasped them and carried them to the beach hills clear of the swash of the water. One of them was insensible, but by the energetic application of the method in vogue in the Service for the resuscitation of apparently drowned persons he was soon brought to and taken to the nearest house for shelter.

     All but one, the captain, were now safe. He clung to the rigging, anxious, but evidently with stern determination, although the very loneliness of his position, surrounded by the terrible waters, was in itself appalling. At about half past 3, just as the life saving crews were about to fire again in the hope of placing the line within his reach, to haul him ashore, the main mast broke off and he was thrown into the surf. He exhibited rare coolness and presence of mind, and made a gallant and successful struggle; for quickly disengaging himself from the wreckage he clambered to the rail which was out of the water, and thence by degrees reached the rigging of the foremast, which still remained intact. This movement was watched by the surfmen with intense interest, and as soon as he was again ensconced in the rigging the sixth and last shot was fired. At this juncture the man lost his hold and was swept out of sight, apparently under the wreck. His disappearance was but momentary, however, for to the great relief of those on shore, he quickly reappeared on the surface amidst the fragments of timbers and planking, and catching at the first piece within reach flung his arms and legs around it with the grip of death or despair. By great good luck the piece of timber to which he clung was cast shoreward by the sea, and willing hands were ready to grasp him as soon as he was within reach. When drawn ashore he was insensible. He was at once taken to a place of shelter and by proper manipulation and the administration of the usual remedies was soon brought to consciousness.

     Darkness had now overtaken them, and as soon as the men were able to travel the rescuers wended their way to their respective stations, the wrecked crew reaching No. 20 with the men of that station at about half past 8. Here, after changing their wet garments and partaking of warm food, all hands except those whose turn it was to patrol the beach, sought releaf in much needed rest after the excitement and exposure of such an eventful day. The crew of the McColly remained at the station several days until able to leave for their homes, their unfortunate craft having become a complete wreck. The crew of No. 20 thus had 8 shipwrecked sailors on their hands, those of the Charles remaining until their vessel was floated off. It should be mentioned that one of the surfmen of No. 20 had a narrow escape while wading into the surf to the assistance of one of the sailors. He was knocked almost senseless by a piece of timber, and it was only with considerable difficulty that he was rescued by his comrades. The action of the crews of these two stations (Nos. 20 and 21) on this occasion was certainly very creditable, and to their perseverance under adverse circumstances, coupled with great gallantry in wading out into the surf at the peril of their own lives, is due the saving of all those aboard the McColly.

(NOTE: See also the Charles, rescued just previous to the McColly.)

Schooner Martin C. Ebel ~ 5 November 1895

Annual Report of the Operations of te United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1896:

At 3 a.m. the north patrol observed a vessel drifting in toward the beach. After burning his Coston signal he hastened to inform the keeper. Upon further examination she proved to be a three-masted schooner, apparently water logged, mainmast and light spars gone and no signal displayed. Surf was very high and bar too rough to cross. After telephoning to keepers of Little Kinnakeet and Cape Hatteras Stations for assistance, set out with surfboat, beach apparatus, medicine chest, and cork jackets. The crews which had been summoned arrived promptly. As soon as vessel struck a line was fired across her, but after waiting some time, and becoming convinced that no one was on board, it was hauled ashore. The weather being too thick and stormy to do anything further at that time, the crews of the neighboring stations returned. Kept a watch on vessel all night, wreckage coming ashore. In November 6 and 7 keeper made three attempts to board wreck, but was deterred therefrom by heavy surf, floating spars, the laboring of the hull and consequent apprehension for the safety of his crew and boat. Got on board on the 8th instant, found her to be the schooner Martin C. Ebel, lumber laden, cabin and rudder gone, and vessel about to break up. Conferred with wreck commissioner and turned vessel over to him. She went to pieces at 1.30 a.m., November 13, her cargo coming ashore badly broken up and being strewn along the beach for a distance of 7 miles.

Schooner Nathan Esterbrook, Jr. ~ 20 February 1893

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1893:

At about 1 o’clock on the morning of February 20, 1893, the surf man having the patrol to the northward from the Little Kinnakeet Station (6th District) North Carolina, discovered a large vessel, which proved to be the schooner Nathan Esterbrook, Jr., of New Haven, Connecticut, ashore two and one half miles north-northeast of the life saving station, and about three hundred and seventy-five yards from the shore. The vessel was of seven hundred and thirty-one tons burden, having on board a cargo of guano valued at $35,000, and was on a voyage from New York City to Savannah, GA, carrying a crew of 9 men all told. The wind was from the southwest, and although strong, was favorable for the schooner, and while it was intensely dark the weather was not stormy, but the master had in some way missed his calculations, and almost before he was aware of his peril, ran hard aground as stated above. The tide was falling and the surf was heavy.

     The patrolman no sooner saw the lights of the schooner than he knew she was stranded, and he therefore made his way with all possible haste to the life saving station, where the crew was aroused and at once prepared to go to the wreck. While the apparatus cart was being run out, and some extra articles that the keeper thought might be found necessary were being loaded into a horse cart belonging to him, he telephoned to the Gull Shoal Station, some 5 miles to the north of his own, and also to Big Kinnakeet, some 6 miles to the southward, informing them of the stranding and requesting their presence at the scene. Then he went to the top of the lookout and burned a red signal to the shipwrecked men to let them know that preparations were in hand for their rescue. The lifesaving crew then harnessed themselves to the apparatus cart and started off, the keeper going ahead and making faster time with his own cart loaded with the medicine chest, blankets, life belts, extra shot lines, etc. Not long afterwards he met the Gull Shoal crew and sent some of them with a horse to assist his men who were behind with the apparatus cart. No time was necessarily consumed, but the extreme darkness of the night and the condition of the beach were such that a considerable period was required to get abreast of the wreck with the apparatus, which was not accomplished until nearly three o’clock.

     The Lyle life gun was immediately brought into requisition, carefully sighted by the lights of the schooner which were still burning, and a moment later its friendly shot went whizzing through the air toward the mark. The distance was great, and the darkness so impenetrable that the eye could not follow the flight of the projectile, but the fact subsequently appeared that notwithstanding the difficulties of the situation both the keeper and the gun had done their work well. It is true the shot did not rest on board the vessel, but it reached her fairly and would have proved entirely successful had it not happened to strike the heavy forestay and rebound into the water. After waiting a sufficient length of time and finding that the line was not being hauled aboard, the keeper knew that the shot had failed, and promptly prepared to try again. The second projectile was fired with a larger line and a heavier charge of powder, but fell short. Upon the third trial the same weight of cartridge was used, but a lighter line (of the same size as the first one), and this shot landed the line in excellent position across the fore gaff, between the fore and main masts.

     The shipwrecked crew at once began hauling out the whip, and in the space of a few minutes the hawser was sent out and made fast, but unfortunately, as it later appeared, too low down. The movements of the life saving end, were guided solely by the signals of the lantern on board the schooner, and they had no knowledge of what was going on there except from that source, therefore, when a signal was made that the hawser was fast they set it up, clapped on the breeches buoy and sent it forth without delay. The second mate got into the buoy, and it was about to start on its first trip shoreward when a change of condition occurred which ultimately resulted in the only instance of loss of life which attended the wreck. Just as all was ready the wind suddenly veered from the west southwest, and began to blow a gale from the north, swinging the wreck around and thus bringing the beach apparatus hawser across the head stays. A signal to haul away was however, shown, and the buoy was accordingly promptly pulled ashore. When it reached the beach its occupant was found to be unconscious and was supposed to be drowned, the hawser having been made fast so low down on the schooner that the buoy was necessarily dragged through the water a large portion of the way. Efforts were instantly made to resuscitate the apparently drowned man, and he soon recovered consciousness, when he was transported in one of the carts to the Little Kinnakeet Station, attended by surfmen selected for the purpose, while the rest of the three crews assembled at the scene remained to complete the rescue of the eight men still on board the Esterbrook.

     The gear being fouled the keeper now determined to give over any further efforts with that method and make an attempt to reach the vessel with the surfboat. A launch was finally accomplished in face of the high wind and furious surf, but these obstacles supplemented by a rapid long shore current, were too much for the crew, and ultimately compelled them to abandon the effort and return to the beach. It was now daylight, and keeper Hooper signaled to the men on the wreck to change the hawser and whip line to the lee bow, and while this was being done and the shore end of the gear set up over again, as was necessary, he sent a team to his station for the life car, which he proposed to use in the further operation, as perhaps under the circumstances a speedier and preferable means of getting the remaining men ashore. When it arrived the car was slung upon the hawser in place of the breeches buoy, and four trips were made with it, two men being loaded at each trip. So many perplexities were encountered that it was well into the day when the last man was safe on the shore, and it may well be accounted a fortunate circumstance that the vessel was sufficiently strong to hold together with all spars standing until rescue was completed.

     No lives were lost by drowning, but the second mate, Charles Clafford, who, as before stated, was unconscious when he reached the shore, and as it afterwards appeared from his own statements and those of his shipmates was injured before leaving the vessel, and later by being dragged across the head stays, suddenly failed early in the forenoon, and at about 9:30 o’clock gave up his life. From the instant he was landed to the moment of his death every possible means was adopted for his recovery, but without avail. Just before he expired he threw up profuse quantities of blood, and it was the opinion of his comrades, as would seem to be the fact, that his death was due to necessarily fatal internal injuries. His body was carefully dressed in clothing taken from the supply provided by the generous benevolence of the Women’s National Relief Association, and then reverently interred by the life saving men in the presence of the surviving members of the shipwrecked crew.

     While the circumstances of this rescue were not extraordinary so far as the weather was concerned, they afford a fair illustration of the methods of life saving-the breeches buoy, boat, and life car all having been successively brought into use—and they also emphasize the value of telephonic communications between the stations, by which three crews were easily and promptly assembled under circumstances calling for a very considerable number of men.

     The shipwrecked people were furnished with dry clothing, and remained at the station until the day after the wreck, when they took their departure on a wrecking steamer for Norfolk, VA, leaving with the keeper the following statement expressive of their appreciation of the services of the life saving crews:

The schooner Nathan Esterbrook, Jr., of New Haven, Connecticut, stranded at 12:40 o’clock on the morning of February 20, 1893, about two and one half miles north of the Little Kinnakeet Life-Saving Station. The captain and crew of the station were promptly on hand. There was no lack of duty in saving our lives. Furthermore, I wish to state that the man who died at the station was saved alive. I believe that he got hurt in getting clear of the vessel, causing his death. Everything was done to save his life that could be done. I am very thankful for myself and crew for the kind treatment that we received from the captain and crew of the life-saving station. GEO. L. KELSEY, Captain ; A.L. DUNTON, Mate ; JOHN MANSTON, Steward ; T. ANDERSON, Seaman ; F. KUHLA, Seaman ; J. ANDERSON, Seaman ; T. ANDERSON, Seaman

Schooner Roger Moore ~ 30 October 1899

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

Stranded about 1 mile ESE. of station during an ENE. gale with rain. Station crew hastened to a point on the beach abreast the wreck with the beach apparatus, and were soon joined by the crew from Little Kinnakeet Station. The wreck was so near the beach that they were able to get a line on board without using the beach apparatus. The crew of the wreck (7 men) came down the line, and the lifesavers waded out into the surf to receive them and helped them to the shore. They were all landed safely and taken to station, where they were supplied with dry clothing from the stores of the Women’s National Relief Association and succored for 5 days. The schooner became a total wreck.

Schooner Robert W. Dasey ~ 17 August 1899

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

Driven ashore by the terrible ENE. Storm ¾ mile S. of station, at 5.30 p.m. Life saving crew started for the wreck with the beach apparatus as soon as possible after its discovery by the patrolman, but the beach cart and horses became mired in the quicksand on the way, delaying them nearly an hour. They found the wreck, bows-on to the beach, with the outer jib stay, which had parted, hanging over the bow. They went into the surf and caught hold of the stay; then, while they held it fast, the crew of the schooner came down upon it, one by one, and surfmen carried them all safely up the beach. Taking them to station, the keeper gave them stimulants and food and provided them with dry clothing from the stores of the Women’s National Relief Association. On the next day the station crew went on board the wreck with the shipwrecked crew and aided them to search for their personal effects, finding very few, however. The crew were succored at the station until the 21st, when they were given transportation to Elizabeth City. The captain remained at station until the 30th, when, having sold the wreck, he left for his home. (See letter of acknowledgement.)

Robert W. Dasey

LITTLE KINNAKEET LIFE-SAVING STATION, August 18, 1898

We the undersigned, captain and crew of the wrecked schooner Robert W. Dasey, which was driven ashore by the east-northeast hurricane with very high surf and tide on August 17, 1899, at 5.30 p.m., wish to make the following statement: At that time no person could have reached us, but as early as anything could possibly be done the life-saving crew were on hand with their beach apparatus ready to land us. Our vessel, however, had gone high up, so that the life-savers caught the outer jib stay, which was loose, and held it while we came down upon it, one at a time. Then they took us upon the beach clear of the surf. They arrived at the wreck about 6 a.m. on August 18, 1899. After landing us they took us to station three-quarters of a mile distant, and provided us with dry clothing, stimulants, and food; they gave us the very best treatment, and aided us in every possible way to save our effects so far as we could find them on board our vessel.

     We also wish to say that these noble, gallant, and heroic life-savers do most dreadfully suffer the hardships of life to save, protect, and take care of sailors who may be cast into their care. There was nothing left undone by the acting keeper and crew of the above-amed station. They performed their duties most nobly. Respectfully submitted, JULIUS OLSEN, Master ; GEORGE W. LAYFIELD, Mate ; ADOLPH SCHICK, Cook ; GEORGE WILKINS ; CONRAD PRESCOD ; H.P. RUSSELL ; GEORGE BUSBY, Seamen