[an error occurred while processing this directive]

NOVEMBER FURY

By Grace Smith

Imperious, aloof, and remote, the lady reigns, the largest body of fresh water in the world. The deepest, the highest above sea level, and the farthest west and north of the Great Lakes, Lake Superior, or Lac Supérieur (Upper Lake) as she was called by early French traders, covers 31,700 square miles. Lying 600 feet above sea level and 1333 feet deep at her deepest point, Superior is 350 miles long at her greatest length and 160 miles wide at her greatest width. She is a little smaller than the state of Maine and a little larger than the state of South Carolina. She is so large, in fact, that a freighter can run for thirty hours in a direct course without ever catching sight of land from either side of the ship.

Featuring a bold and rocky coastline, Superior’s cliffs rise from her water’s edge on the northern shores. Forests flank much of Superior, and nearly 200 rivers spill into her, many of them forming waterfalls that plunge over high, jagged land. Superior’s waves have a different motion than ocean waves which generally roll and swell. Superior’s waves are much sharper and shorter; they tumble and jump. Because they are less dense then ocean waves, Superior’s waves strike more quickly. Long regarded as treacherous and having a violent temper, Superior never freezes. She is, in fact, renown for roaring squalls in early winter when her force has snapped ships’ thick masts as if they were match sticks. Acting as an inland sea, large, dangerous, and sensitive to sudden barometric changes, Arctic winds, and swirling warmer waters from Huron and Michigan, Superior is a formidable force to be reckoned with. More than 300 great ships have been lost on her since the advent of shipping in 1835. Seasoned mariners, in fact, regard the eleventh month as the worst time of year for a storm, referring to such as the "Witch of November." Here is the story of one of the great ships, an $8 million dollar freighter that mysteriously disappeared when a Witch of November unleashed her fury.

Launched in 1958 at the Great Lakes Engineering Works in River Rouge, Michigan, the freighter soon became a favorite vessel of marine photographers and ship watchers. Well-appointed with luxurious carpeting, elegant decorating, and fully-tiled baths, she became known as a workhorse, carrying more tonnage through the Soo Locks than any other ship in a single year for seven seasons. A 729 foot long, 75 foot wide iron-ore carrier, big as a city block, she vanished around 7:20 P.M. during a raging November storm. Conditions at the time included hurricane-force winds of 60 to 70 miles per hour, high seas, driving sleet, freezing spray, and deadly snow squalls. There were no survivors or witnesses, no attempts by the crew to use any lifesaving equipment, and no body has ever washed ashore. Now resting 535 feet below Superior’s surface, the ill-fated EDMUND FITZGERALD has been studied since it first disappeared from radar on November 10, 1975. Questions regarding why and how the Fitzgerald disappeared have puzzled maritime authorities for two decades. Here are some possible explanations.

One of the most common theories is that the ship snapped in two when her bow and stern were caught between the crests of two or three monster waves, 30-40 feet high. Another theory is that the ship lost one or more of her 7,000 lb. hatch covers, taking on water as giant waves crashed over her side. Some others believe that the Fitzgerald sustained major damage after hitting a poorly charted shoal, sinking three hours later when she was forced into a nose dive that took her down. During the storm, the crew reported that she had developed a list from the flooding of ballast tanks and that steps were being taken to deal with the flooding and tilting. Whatever the cause, the Fitzgerald sank suddenly without making any calls for help. Propelled by her 7,500 horsepower engines and 26,000 ton ore cargo, the Fitzgerald reached the bottom in 12 seconds, split in half. Today the twin shafts of her twisted remains rest 180 feet apart with tons of taconite ore scattered between them.

The Coast Guard’s official report stated that the Fitzgerald’s flooding, along with worsening seas at the peak of the storm, caused her bow to pitch down, diving into a wall of water from which she could not recover. Within seconds, her cargo hurried forward, and her bow plowed into Superior’s bottom. Then her midships’ structure fell apart, forcing her immersed stern section, now depleted of cargo, to roll over and override the other structure, finally coming to rest upside-down on top of the disintegrated mid-portion of the Fitzgerald. Documenting the loss of buoyancy and stability from massive flooding of the cargo hold as the most probable cause of the sinking, the report concludes that flooding of the cargo hold occurred due to ineffective hatch closures, aggravated by worsening weather conditions.

According to the report, other contributing factors included: 1) an inadequate system of hatch coamings, gaskets, covers, and clamps that failed to prevent the penetration of water into the ship; 2) a cargo hold that was neither outfitted with sounding devices to signal flooding nor with transverse water-tight bulkheads. As a result, flooding water moved through the hold, extending the effect of the flooding; 3) topside damage, reported as early as 3:30 P.M. on the day of the sinking, may have caused flooding and the ship’s list; 4) reduced visibility due to intense snow squalls; 5) radar malfunctions.

In 1994, the Fitzgerald’s bell was recovered and restored as a monument to the lives lost in the disaster. Last year a team of scientists spent three days aboard a mini-submarine, taking videotapes of the wreckage, hoping to find further clues to the mysterious sinking. The team concluded that the ship did not break up on the water’s surface. Instead, she "probably" hurtled downward with missile-like speed propelled by her own engines and weighty cargo. The cause of the sudden thrust was not specified.

While experts may not yet fully agree on the cause of the Fitzgerald’s demise, reverence for the freighter and the countless vessels that sail Superior and the other Great Lakes continues. Parishes and communities hold annual services for the Blessing of the Fleet, and the solemn Mariners’ Hymn is sung on many a Sunday. Tolling in 1975 and each November since, the church bell in Old Mariners’ Church, Detroit, rings 29 times, one chime for each life lost on the Fitzgerald.

Why were no lives spared? Gordon Lightfoot’s 1976 ballad about the ship’s rendezvous with Superior, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald," echoes the thoughts of experienced mariners who can recount many a November tempest. Sadly, this poetic refrain seems to resonate the freighter’s finale:

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitchigumi.
The lady, it’s said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early.

Copyright © 1996 Grace Smith, Ph.D.



Grace Smith grew up listening to the legends and lore of the Great Lakes from her marine contractor father. A life-long resident of Michigan and a member of the Maritime Sailors’ Cathedral mentioned in Lightfoot’s song, she writes the Too Cool Schoolhouse Site of the Week for WorldVillage and hosts the Business Writers Workshop for America Online.

If you enjoyed this article, let us know!

Back to the Virtual Learner main page



Copyright © 1996 InfoMedia. All rights reserved worldwide

?