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Hollow Pits Sunken Ships by Alan Rowe Wisconsin's forgotten stone fleet Soft Co
Hollow Pits Sunken Ships by Alan Rowe
Soft Cover
63 pages
Copyright 1979
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTIONI
ILLUSTRATIONS, MAPS, PHOTOGRAPHSv
Chapter One THE BAY1
Chapter Two THE QUARRIES6
Chapter Three A STRANGE FLEET13
Chapter Four STURGEON BAY STONE COMPANY25
Chapter Five LEATHEM and SMITH38
Chapter Six GREEN 51
Chapter Seven LAURIE56
Chapter Eight A FINAL PORT60
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS63
INTRODUCTION
One of the most unique places on the entire Great Lakes is a tranquil bay that provides sanctuary for the bones of forgotten ships. Often called the "Graveyard of Lake Michigan", Sturgeon Bay has long been a refuge for failing ships. Since early days of sail, legends have surrounded the arrival of worn decks, rotting timbers, and torn sails. Yarns are swapped in dim and smoky water front taverns. Old mariners tell tales of leaking and crippled vessels that sought this final port.
Of all the stories created in the history of inland waters, there is one that had gone untold. The facts surrounding a strange collection of derelicts remained as lost as their identities. Forgotten through time and generations, the knowledge of their existence had faded from many memories.
True, when a certain group of unseaworthy vessels were brought into port, their one new purpose was known. Selected steamers, side wheelers, and sloops barely made the safety of the dry docks. Plans laid for them were unlike any others. The destinies for these worn out ships were even stranger. There did exist a story, of the last years in the lives of that odd fleet.
In several years of searching for that story, I explored the bottom of Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin. Sunken hulls that lie scattered there did not reveal their secrets very readily. Finding these wrecks was not an easy task, for some do not appear on charts, and others had rotted beyond hope.
In gathering facts and putting together snatches from old timers' memories, a puzzle grew. Questions began to plague me. Why were the wrecks so similar in construction? Why didn't they appear on charts? There had to be a reason for the peculiar arrangement that they rested in. Clusters of 2 or 3 seemed unusual. How had they come to lie at only certain spots around the shore lines? Was there a possible link be tween them and the abandoned rock quarries that stood along the shores?
To find the pieces to the building puzzle, I began visiting local libraries and museums. As a start I searched for the names of the vessels that rested in the bay. An adventure in history grew out of tracing the life of each ship. Slowly, clues and secrets exposed themselves. Colorful sagas unfolded, more than just facts, names, and dates. Actual accounts came to light. Men and ships battled the elements year after year. The life of seamen on the lakes was hazardous. Founderings, running aground, and capsizings were terms to become familiar. Yellow time worn pages of old newspapers became treasure troves. Blurry eyes were the result of scanning microfilmed documents through cold Wisconsin winters. Courthouse records and faded maps proved invaluable. Ledgers often fell apart as brittle bindings gave way.
Each year in spring, when gentle winds warmed the water, I used weekends and vacations to gather underwater evidence. Scuba gear was essential in prowling among the submerged timbers. I had no idea as to the length of time it would take to learn about the ships and their common end.
Tales told at water front bars were occasionally helpful. Instincts and visits with older residents turned out to be crucial links between newspaper accounts and my personal knowledge. Piecing together bits of information in order to reconstruct a forgotten time turned into a full time job.
What resulted is the story of an area rich in its own nautical lore. Although this is only a partial account of the complete Sturgeon Bay wreck story, it is an important Chapter. Up to now, the fascinating saga of Wisconsin's Stone Fleet had gone untold. This segment of Great Lakes nautical heritage had been neglected.
The experiences I encountered blended naturally with historical facts. Each time I went down onto the deck of a submerged wreck, I was armed with tales and names echoing from the past. The cabin of my boat as well as volumes of notebooks swelled with mounting information. Every plunge to the depths of the bay was a visit to a living museum. Every hull was an undisturbed time capsule.
Generations of local residents have already forgotten the presence of the stone fleet. Without some record as to the life and death of this flotilla, one more legacy of knowledge would escape man. In trying to save some of that legacy, in my pursuit, I discovered mysteries carried to the bottom of the boneyard.
While sifting through sand and probing the waterlogged hulls, I found artifacts. Instead of gold and silver, some personal items were strewn about. These effects later formed keys to unlock doors which would lead to an insight as to how the sailors lived. After finding relics, I had to preserve them and identify them. They made my understanding of the daily ship routines complete.
Even though the bulk of the vessels had been reduced to barge status, these had once been fine ships on the lakes. The craftsmanship in marine construction was evident. Built to withstand the tortures of heavy seas, the obvious strength of all the hulls was imposing. Someday, the waterlogged hulks I saw will disappear. Like the ancient galleons of Spain, this chapter in marine history will never live again. In preserving a written record of the stone ships, I hope that the memories of them will not sink into oblivion.
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