1891 — Oct 22, Gale, Fishing Schooner Red Wing breaks in surf, ~Indian River Inlet, DE– 6
— 14 Appletons’ Annual Cyclopaedia and Register of Important Events…1891. 1892, p. 256.[1]
— 6 Hurley, George and Suzanne. “Shipwreck of the Red Wing at Indian River Inlet…1891.”
— 6 U.S. Life-Saving Service. Annual Report of the Operations of the… p. 52.
Narrative Information
US Life-Saving Service: “…the Red Wing, of Norfolk, Virginia, a small fishing schooner of about twenty-eight tons…stranded and went to pieces on the coast of Delaware, about three and a half miles south of the Indian River Inlet Station (Fifth District) on the night of October 22, 1891. The Red Wing was an old craft, build in Noank, Connecticut, in 1860. A heavy gale was blowing from the north and there was a terrible sea. The vessel was utterly destroyed, and her crew of six men lost very soon after she struck the bar, and long before it was possible for aid to arrive from the life-saving station. The condition of the bodies of the crew when recovered from the surf leaves no room for doubt that they were killed before the least chance was afforded them to save themselves by swimming, one man being found with his neck broken, another with broken legs, and all more or less battered and bruised to an extent sufficient to lead the local State medical officer, who examined the corpses, to declare at the inquest that in his opinion death was not caused by drowning, but by the injuries received. The following is from the report of the officer detailed to investigate the sad affair:
The night was a wild one, and the wind, which had suddenly come out from the northeast, at about 3 p.m. backed to north-northwest; the weather turned cold and quite thick, and there was a very heavy sea running. At about 7:30 P.M. the south patrol of the Indian River Inlet Station, having struck his patrol clock at the key post on the north side of the inlet, turned to make the return trip. His course then lay directly to windward, and the fierce gale blew the rain and sand in his face, so that he was nearly blinded, and was compelled to walk backwards. While thus slowly making his way up the beach and watching the seaward outlook, he saw the flare-up of a torch far to the southward. Shortly afterwards the light was again seen, and, judging from its direction that it was on some vessel in distress, he ran to a little elevation on the beach and fired his Coston signal to let the people know they were seen, and also to alarm the station. Taking the bearings by the run of the coast, he located the light as near the Cotton Patch Hill, a notable landmark three miles south of Indian River Inlet.
He then hastened to the station, and found upon his arrival that the vessel’s light and his own signal had been seen and the men were hurriedly making ready for a start with the life-saving apparatus. Rockets were also thrown up to recall the north patrol and as a signal to the wreck. Indian River Inlet, now swollen to several times its usual width, with numerous sand bars and alternate deep gullies, had to be crossed to reach the stretch of beach where the vessel lay, and the problem of how to get there was promptly met by Surfman John H. Long (No. 1), who was in charge in the keeper’s necessary absence on business,[2] by deciding to put the beach apparatus into the surf boat and row down inside to a cove which makes in just north of Cotton Patch Hill, where the beach is but a few hundred yards wide, and where a team could be procured from any of the farmers of the locality to assist in hauling the needed equipments to the wreck.
To do this in the face of the gale and flying sand and rain was a hard and tedious task, as the storm tide was up over the meadows and covered the little drains that abound in the marshes which fringe the shores of the bay. Two trips had to be made to the shore of the bay, first with the heavy surfboat[3] on its carriage a half mile or more through mud and water, and then with the beach cart with all its gear.[4] The latter had then to be put into the boat and the cart unrigged and stowed in also. The crew, wearied with all this work, had then to row the boat to windward in the teeth of the gale for about half a mile more before they could keep off before it and run for the desired landing place three miles to leeward. In spite of their utmost efforts the wind and the strong tide which pours out through Little Ditch, the channel leading to the broad expanse of Indian River, would not permit them to make much headway. The water also was flying over the boat in such volume as to necessitate constant bailing, and as much precious time was fleeting away it was decided to pull directly across th inlet, land wherever they could, and endeavor to cross the marsh and go down the beach that way to the assistance of the wrecked crew. Upon reaching the opposite side of the inlet a part of the crew were directed to get the cart and apparatus out of the boat and put everything in readiness for service, while the acting keeper and others ran across the beach to the edge of the surf to ascertain whether the light on the stranded vessel was still in sight. No light, however, was to be seen, nor was there any sign of the vessel.
Long and his companions, therefore, continued on down the beach, keeping sharp watch, as they ran, for the vessel or any signs of wreckage. A dark object was at last found in the edge of the surf some two miles below the place where they landed. Closer examination between seas revealed a shapeless mass of spars, rigging, sails, and timbers, evidently the wreck of a small vessel bottom up, the sails and rigging being wrapped about the hull as though she had been rolled over and over through the surf and flung bottom up with all her belongings onto the shore. Immediate search was made with the aid of patrol lanterns for the crew, but there was no trace of them about the wreckage, which strewed the shore south of the wreck. The search was continued until daybreak, both along the shore and back among the sand dunes, when at last one body was found rolling in the swash of the surf. The broken neck of the corpse bore silent testimony of the terrible work of the preceding night. Another corpse found farther on with both legs broken gave similar token of the sudden and speedy destruction of the vessel. An unoccupied house was found, and the bodies were put into it as they were recovered on the beach at distances varying from one to six miles from the wreck, until six bodies lay cold and stiff in this extemporized morgue with nothing whatever about them to tell their names or the story of that wild night, although every one showed injuries sufficient to cause death, with none of the indications of drowning.
“The bodies were turned over to the coroner for inquest, and, after being carefully prepared for burial in clothing from the supply placed at the station by the Women’s National Relief Association, they were decently interred, at the expense of the local authorities, at sundown of October 27 in the burial ground of the little Presbyterian church at Ocean View, Delaware. One of the bodies was identified as that of the master, John Johnson, of Swedish birth, a resident of Seabright, New Jersey, and another as that of Francis Mullen, also a resident of that place. The others were apparently Swedes, but their names could not be learned.
The Red Wing was owned by William Baulch, residing at Fort Monroe, Virginia, from whom a letter of thanks for their efforts was received by the crew of the station. She was employed blue fishing and in trading to New York, and left the Delaware Breakwater on October 21 for the fishing banks off Cape Henlopen. She was seen by the Delaware pilot-boat Wm. W. Ker at noon on the day of the wreck and four hours later by the pilot-boat Henry Cope, just after the gale came on. At sunset she was seen crossing the Hen and Chickens shoal, and when abreast of the Cape Henlopen Station, running south, was reefing her mainsail and went out of sight down the beach in good shape. At 6:30 P.M. she was warned of her close proximity to the shore by the patrol of the Rehoboth Beach Station flashing his Coston light, and was again similarly warned by the north patrol of the Indian River Inlet Station at about a quarter before 7 o’clock. The next we see of her is the ‘flare-up’ of a torch, and for awhile after a light to the south, then the wreck, and the dead crew.
I think the vessel started to reach the shelter of the breakwater while the wind was southeasterly, and when, after it struck out northeast, then backed to north-northwest and increased to a furious gale, the sailors found they could not beat in past the Capes, they lowered the mainsail and kept off to run down the beach for shelter under Fenwick Island, where the coast trends to th westward and makes a little lee in northerly winds. Their action in ‘skimming the beach’ and paying no heed to the warning signals shows that they felt well acquainted with the coast. After passing Indian River there are shoals off shore, and they probably struck one of them, and before they knew it the vessel began to fill. The discovery of this was probably when they burned the torch seen by the patrolman and from the station. As a last resort they put her on the beach and climbed the rigging, taking the cabin lantern with them. The vessel, unable to withstand the pounding of the surf, speedily broke up and rolled over and over, which accounts for the killing of the crew.
After a careful inquiry into all the circumstances surrounding this most deplorable wreck, I am convinced that every member of the crew of the Indian River Inlet Station did his full duty. The acting keeper exercised good judgment in the means he took, and all possible haste was made in going to the scene of the wreck. The evidence shows that they arrived there at about 11 o’clock. This is corroborated by a Mrs. Hetty Somers, who lives about one and a half miles south of the place of the wreck, by her statement that Surfman Long came to her house at a little before midnight in inquire whether any of the people had found their way there. I made the trip, riding to the inlet, crossing it, and walking down the beach on the other side, in one hour and fifteen minutes. They made it on a dark, stormy night in two hours, and had to fight wind and tide in getting the loaded boat out of the creek at the back of the station. That the only course offering a chance of success was taken by the crew is the opinion of all with whom I have talked, including Keepers Salmons and Truston of the adjacent stations. Had the schooner held together, this plan would likely have resulted in a rescue, but before the station men could effect a landing on the south beach I think it was all over with the vessel and her crew. (pp. 21-24)
(United States Life-Saving Service. Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the Fiscal Year Ending June 30, 1892. Washington: GPO, 1893.)
Sources
Appletons’ Annual Cyclopaedia and Register of Important Events of the Year 1891 (Vol. 16, new series). “Disasters in 1891.” NY: D. Appleton and Co., 1892. Google digitized at: http://books.google.com/books?id=FUcoAAAAMAAJ&printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&q&f=false
Hurley, George and Suzanne. “Shipwreck of the Red Wing at Indian River Inlet, Delaware, 1891.” The Times & Tides of Ocean City, Maryland. Ocean City Life-Saving Station Museum, Ocean City Museum Society Inc. Accessed 12-9-2013 at: http://www.ocmuseum.org/index.php/site/shipwrecks_article/shipwreck_of_the_red_wing
United States Life-Saving Service. Annual Report of the Operations of the United States Life-Saving Service for the Fiscal Year Ending June 30, 1892. Washington: GPO, 1893. Google digitized: http://books.google.com/books?id=ZYtIAQAAIAAJ&printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&q&f=false
[1] We can not account for the large discrepancy in lives lost between Appletons and the U.S. Life Saving Service.
[2] Keeper Washington A. Vickers. (Hurley and Hurley.)
[3] 3,000 pounds, according to Hurley and Hurley.
[4] Another 1,000 pounds, including a Lyle gun, used to shoot a line to off-shore vessels, according to the Hurley’s.