Small Craft Wyanoke ~ 12 March 1879

On April 3, 1879 the Wilmington Morning Star reported that a small craft, the Wyanoke, with a black crew, left Sunday morning bound for New Bern with two in crew and four passengers. The vessel was found bottom up in the inlet. It was thought that all hands were lost. Two days later the Morning Star filed this report:

"Inquiry at the Signal Station last night, did not elicit anything new concerning the Hatteras Inlet disaster, by which several lives were lost. The latest news is that the persons who perished are Jeremiah Farrow, colored, master of the sunken vessel WYANOKE; Daniel Farrow, also colored, mate; Jeseph B. Whitehurst, Light House Keeper; Mrs. Oscar F. Rue and Miss Flora Rue, the last three white.
     It was later learned from the Newbern Nutshell that ... none of the bodies that were drowned from the ill-fated WYANOKE, except that of Mr. Whitehurst had been found. Mrs. Whitehurst was not on board."

Schooner Wesley M. Oler ~ 5 December 1902

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

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

Wreck of the schooner Wesley M. Oler

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     The investigating officer, in concluding his report, says:

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

Newspaper Article:
New York Times, December 9, 1902

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

Steam Packet William Gibbons ~ 20 October 1836

The first reported wreck of a steamboat on the North Carolina coast occurred when the navigator of the packet William Gibbons, miscalculating that he had cleared Cape Hatteras on the run from New York, turned to the southwest heading and ran his vessel ashore. Residents of Chicamacomico, where the William Gibbons ended up at night on the inner bar, assisted with the rescue of its 140 passengers, including 32 women and 14 children, and no lives were lost. 

Captain E.L. Halsey was an experienced seaman who made an estimated 400 trips past Cape Hatteras. For the last two years of his career he commanded the steam packet William Gibbons on which two passengers and three crewmen were killed after its chimney exploded in New York Harbor in January 1836. Halsey retired soon after the accident.

     The following October, he was hurriedly called out of retirement to sail the Gibbons from New York to South Carolina as its new master, Captain Spinney, had taken sick. It was his understanding that he was not expected to take charge of the navigation of the craft, since First Mate Joshua Andrews and his navigator, T.W. Winship, were both experienced in that regard. He also understood that he was to “preside at the table, and to assist in having every necessary attention paid to the comfort and convenience of passengers during the passage, and also to advise with Mr. Andrews, if necessity required.”

     The Gibbons set sail at four o’clock the afternoon of October 8 with 140 passengers, among them 32 women and 14 children. She steamed southward along the coast that night and all of the next day at a steady speed of about 10 mph and was off the outer banks of North Carolina by the second night. Visibility was poor the night of October 9, making it impossible for Andrews or Winship to take observations. Instead, they relied on soundings, taking them every quarter hour, and finding at midnight some 11 fathoms of water.

     Then, as now, there were lighthouses along the coast—one located on the southern end of Bodie Island and another further south at Cape Hatteras. At approx. 2:30 a.m. a light was seen bearing on the northwest, which Andrews identified as Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. This opinion was confirmed during the next hour as the water deepened—to 15, then 17 and 19 fathoms—and Andrews, looking through his spyglass, said he could distinctly see the breakers on outer Diamond Shoals.

     At 3:45 a.m. the leadsman reported no bottom, and 15 minutes later Andrews told Halsey they had passed Diamond Shoals and were going to change to a westward course, heading for Cape Lookout. All seemed to go well with the exception of one slight mistake; the light Andrews saw was not Cape Hatteras but Bodie Island, and instead of heading westward through deep water toward Cape Lookout, they were heading straight for the outer banks of North Carolina, approx. 40 miles further north.

     The Gibbons struck at 4:40 a.m., lurched over one bar, slipped across a gully and ended up in shoal water close to shore. Halsey, realizing too late that the captain who sits at the head of the table should be in charge of the ship as well, now proceeded to take over. He ordered the engines reversed and repeated efforts were made to back the vessel off the shoal. When she finally did move, it was discovered that the rudder was out of commission. She soon grounded again.

     At daylight people were seen on shore, and one of the small boats was dispatched to find out where they were and what accommodations could be secured on the beach for the comfort of the passengers. It was reported that they were in New Inlet, at the north end of Chicamacomico Banks, and that there were two small deserted houses less than a mile away. Four miles distant, it was reported, stood “Mr. John Midyett’s residence, containing a bountiful supply of provisions.” Two ship’s boats shuttled 116 passengers ashore before the wind and tide had risen to such an extent that the remaining passengers refused to leave the stranded vessel. That afternoon, more than a hundred men, women and children—without crewmen among them—were crowded into the two small houses with a very limited supply of water—the “bountiful provisions” of Squire Midyett several miles away. On the Gibbons, the remainder of the passengers and entire crew were in an equally bad situation.

     For three days a strong nor'easter and high tides marooned those on board and confined those on shore. By the second day aground, Captain Halsey noticed some of the crewmen had been partaking of hard liquor and were no longer obeying his commands. He ordered the bartender to destroy all of the liquor, but some of the crewmen—the firemen especially—had already stolen enough gin to keep them in a drunken state for some time. First Mate Andrews soon joined them below decks. Before it was over, the crew of the Gibbons had broken open practically every bag and trunk on board, stealing the more valuable contents, and had pilfered through the mail which the Gibbons carried.

     For all the confusion, danger, lack of discipline and privation the wreck of the William Gibbons ended without the loss of a single life. When the storm let up, Halsey went ashore in one of the boats and assisted in making arrangements to transport passengers and crew back to Norfolk. Meanwhile, Andrews and his buddies among the firemen commandeered the other boat and set out for Elizabeth City where they were reported two days later to have tried to sell the items they had stolen.

     The first mention in newspapers of the loss of the Gibbons included a card, signed by a number of passengers, censuring old Captain Halsey for his negligence; a charge which he vehemently refuted, and of which he was proved innocent some time later when Andrews and four of the firemen were arrested and jailed in New York. The five were later tried at Raleigh—the firemen got off free and Andrews received a token fine which he paid from the proceeds of the very crime with which he was charged.

Schooner William ~ 23 January 1898

Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1898:

Sprung a leak, capsized, and sank 3 miles south of the station; crew escaped to shore and were cared for and fitted out with clothing from the Women’s National Relief Association stores by the surfmen, who also saved much of the cargo and outfit after the schooner washed up on the beach. Vessel a total loss.

Bark Wolseley ~ 11 & 12 April 1889

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

About 4 o’clock in the morning of the first of these dates the Norwegian bark Wolseley, of Arendal, with one of her topmasts gone and in a sinking condition, was beached on the North Carolina coast some three miles south of the Big Kinnakeet Station and four and a half miles north of the Cape Hatteras Station (6th District). She was bound to Portland, ME, in ballast, from Buenos Ayres, Argentine Republic. A few minutes after the accident and almost simultaneously the patrols from the two stations discovered her, flashed their Coston signals to let those on board know that they were seen, and hastened to give the alarm. The vessel being nearer Big Kinnakeet, news of her condition was first received by the surf men at that point. The keeper immediately telephoned the Cape Hatteras Station, mustered his crew, and started for the scene with the boat on its carriage. Arriving at a place abreast of the bark the launched their boat, pulled alongside, and took off her crew of 13 men. They then returned and got a boatload of the crew’s effects, after which they conducted the shipwrecked men to the station. Early in the afternoon, when they had obtained dry clothing and something to eat, the surf men made another trip to the bark, saving what they could, and later in the day they took the captain on board to make a survey, when she was found to be badly wrecked. Upon receiving news of the disaster the Cape Hatteras crew started for the scene with the apparatus, but did not arrive in time to be of material assistance. On the following day (12th) the crews from the stations named united their efforts to save the cabin furniture and whatever other articles of value they could transport. The vessel was subsequently sold at auction by a wreck commissioner. The sailors were succored at the station 7 days, when they left for Norfolk, first addressing the following letter to the General Superintendent of the Service:

BIG KINNAKEET, NORTH CAROLINA, April 17, 1889

SIRS: We hereby wish to thank the crew of the Big Kinnakeet Life-Saving Station for their prompt assistance. They lost no time in coming to us. We also wish to thank them for their kindness while at the station. Very respectfully, A. OLSEN, Master;  J. JOHNSON, Mate, of the bark Wolseley of Norway

Brig Waltham ~ May 4, 1874

The Baltimore Sun, May 11, 1874

Schooner Wm. H. Shubert ~ 16 February 1903

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

At 10 p.m., during a fresh SW. gale, weather thick and rainy, sea rough, this vessel went ashore 2 miles N. of Bodie Island station. The N. patrol discovered her at 11 p.m. and flashed a Coston signal to apprise the crew of assistance at hand, then returned to station and reported to keeper, who called up Nags Head station by telephone, mustered his crew, and proceeded to a point abreast the wreck, the Nags Head crew arriving at the same time. The life savers soon fired a shot line to the schooner and got a hawser aboard, but the gear became fouled and could not be cleared until daylight, when all hands, 8 men, were safely landed in breeches buoy and taken to the Bodie Island station, where they were succored for three days. The schooner and her cargo of soft coal were a total loss.