Edmund Fitzgerald by Bubba
On the afternoon of November 9, 1975, the American frieghter Edmund Fitzgerald left Duluth, MN with a cargo of 26,116 tons of taconite iron ore pellets.
The American freighter Aurthur M. Anderson, followed the Fitzgerald on what was to be her last voyage across Lake Superior. The captains of each vessel were in constant radio contact. As the weather conditions deteriorated, they decided to take the longer north shore route, near the Canadian mainland. About midnight, November 9th, both ships reported high winds (42 knots), heavy seas, and rain mixed with snow. The Fitzgerald was 7 to 10 miles ahead of the Anderson. At 3:30pm on November 10th, Captain McSorley of the Fitzgerald radioed Captain Cooper of the Anderson that a couple of vent pipes had cracked off and he had lost the ships railing to the pounding of the 30 foot seas. Her pumps were handling the water that was entering through the vent pipes. One radar set was not operating and the second was failing. By this time the Fitzgerald, a faster vessel was 17 miles ahead of the Anderson. The Fitzgerald slowed to allow the Anderson to catch-up. The Anderson would assist the Fitzgerald to navigate. The last acknowledged radio message with the Fitzgerald informed her that the salt water vessel, Nanfri, was coming out of Whitefish Bay. This transmission was sent and recieved at 7:10 pm. The Anderson, unable to pick up the Fitzgerald on radar, called the Nanfri. The Nanfri hadn't spotted the Fitzgerald. Three other vessels, anchored in Whitefish Bay, were radioed. No one had seen the Fitzgerald. The ships conducted a search for the vanished freighter, with no success.
The U.S. Coast Guard cutter, Woodrush, under the command of Captain Jimmy Hobaugh left Duluth that night. On November 11th, the captain of the Roger Blough reported an oil slick on the water near the last reported location of the Fitzgerald. The Woodrush conducted a three day search of the area. One complete lifeboat, Half of another, two self-inflating rafts, twenty life jackets, and other floating debris were found on the surface or washed ashore. Of the 29 crew members, all were lost and no bodies have ever been found. It is a true statement, "Lake Superior never gives up her dead". The absence of an eyewitness account makes it hard to know what really happened. Coast Guard underwater photos found the wreckage of the Fitzgerald 530 feet on the bottom of Lake Superior. The bow section torn from the stern and was buried in 27 feet of mud. The center section lay on the bottom in small pieces. The stern section lay upside down her engines silenced in the cold dark murky depth.
A few years ago the families of the Fitzgerald's
crew visited the site with a team of divers.
The divers removed this bell from the Fitzgerald and replaced
it with a bell enscribed with the names of the crew.
The Original bell is now on display at the Great Lakes
Shipwreck museum at the Whitefish Point Lighthouse.
www.ShipWreckMuseum.com
Seventeen miles out from the tip of Whitefish Point lies the
remains of the most famous shipwreck of the Great Lakes
"WRECK OF THE EDMUND FITZGERALD"
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called 'Gitche Gumee'
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty.
That good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early.
The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T'was the witch of November come stealin'.
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the Gales of November came slashin'.
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind.
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'.
Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya.
At Seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it's been good t'know ya
The captain wired in he had water comin' in
And the good ship and crew was in peril.
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searches all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her.
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
May have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;
the islands and bays are for sportsman,
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the Gales of November remembered.
In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral.
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call 'Gitche Gumee'.
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early!
~ Gordon Lightfoot ~
The music on this page is "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" by Gordon Lightfoot.
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