The Sinking

The Marinette pitched and rolled in the heavy seas so terribly that the crew could hardly stay on their feet. Dark waves crested with white spray crashed over the bow, and after being buffeted about by the lake for several hours, her rudder broke loose, making her was impossible to navigate, which is always crucial in riding out bad storms. The timbers began to crack and she began taking on water. The lumber she was carrying on deck broke loose and began crashing about, finally tearing off both rails and the bulwarks before being washed overboard.

By this time she had been blown so far off course that she was back in sight of Frankfort. She signalled the lighthouse that she was taking on water, and the conclusion from the observers on land was that she was doomed. A telegram was sent to the life saving station at Manistee, requesting that a tug be sent to rescue her, but they replied that it was impossible for a tug to survive in a such a storm. Efforts were than made to get volunteers to travel to the Point Betsie lighthouse to get the life-saving equipment, but it was tough finding anyone brave enough to try to make the trip, even though it is only about six miles. Finally, two desperate men, Albert Vorce and Charles Burmeister, took a team of ponies and started through the blinding snow toward Point Betsie. When they reached the lighthouse a few hours later, the lighthouse keeper immediately agreed to send the rescue equipment, and sent a rescue worker to a nearby farm to borrow horses. The farmer was cold-hearted and refused to let the men borrow a team of horses. The small ponies which were ridden in and a horse belonging to the lighthouse keeper then began to drag the heavy rescue equipment over the steep hills and rough ravines, finally reaching Frankfort about midnight. The horses and men were exhausted and ready to drop, and they were still miles away from where they were needed.

Aboard the ships, things were getting worse. The waves were growing larger, washing over the bow of the ship as the crew struggled to keep her in one piece. About 2:30 in the afternoon a large wave struck the ship and washed the captain overboard. He was never seen alive again. The decking itself was now breaking loose, and the remaining crew huddled together in the cabin. At 5:00 they attempted to abandon ship by lowering the yawl (a small rowboat) into the water, but it was banged around so much that it was immediately damaged and had to be cut loose. With a huge splintery crash the main mast snapped, and in falling took out both the foremast and mizzenhead. By now the ship was waterlogged, sinking lower and lower into the water. About 10:30 pm, eight hours into the storm, the Marinette struck the Watervale beach broadside and swung to, head first, listing terribly while being rocked by every wave. The crew rushed out of the cabin and grabbed hold of the timberheads. Charles Anniston, “French John” and Bill Cumfrey climbed onto the mizzen rigging. The cook, Mary, also struggled to climb onto the rigging. She grabbed onto Charles’ legs crying “Save me, please save me!” He pulled her up and helped her climb higher into the shrouds, then held on to her while trying to secure her to the rigging. But the freezing water, the wind, and the snow all took their toll and, unable to hold on, she fell into the roiling water, nearly taking Charles with her on her way down. Her daughter, Minnie, never made it out of the cabin, where she drowned at age 13. There was now no hope for the ship, and little for the crew.

As the three men clung to the cargo tackle, they watched the remaining mast fall crashing into what was left of the cabin. Cold, dark waves washed over them continuously, tearing at their hands and straining their muscles. They watched helplessly as, one by one, the other four members of the crew, who had clung to the timberhead instead of the rigging, were washed overboard. Each man was tormented by fear and despair as they heard the desperate cries for help from the men in the water, knowing there was nothing they could do to help the drowning men - and little they could do to help themselves.

Friday around 1 a.m., French John and Bill were desperate enough to try to get to land. The schooner deck had broken off, and lumber in the hold was washing out at every wave. Each man grabbed a plank and began swimming toward land. Charles watched them disappear into the darkness and called out to them, asking if they were okay. He barely heard their reply “We’re alright!” over the sound of the wind and waves. It was the last sound ever heard from the men - both drowned before making it to shore.

Charles continued hanging onto the rigging. A huge wave washed over what remained of the ship, tearing his hands loose from the rigging, washing him overboard. He grabbed a small piece of deck planking that had broken off, and struggled to remain afloat. Another huge wave picked him up and tossed him about. Struggling to keep his head above water, he began floundering but abruptly was astounded to feel his feet touch bottom. He had somehow been washed ashore, weak and exhausted. He had now endured the storm for 24 hours.