The late-19th century was a bustling and occasionally weird time in naval architecture. The centuries-long era of wooden sailing vessels was drawing to a close, and while it was clear that steam-powered steel ships were the future, it wasn’t entirely clear how the design of those ships would shake out. The most obvious answer was to convert existing wooden designs to steel, and install boilers and engines. Steel, though, is an entirely different building material that offered both challenges and opportunities to the shipbuilders of the day. Alexander McDougal, a captain and shipbuilder from Scotland, saw the potential for an entirely new kind of vessel; one that looked nothing like its wooden predecessors, could be built quickly and inexpensively and offered greater cargo capacity than similar-sized ships. His design came to be known as the “whaleback,” and 44 of them were built by the American Steel Barge Company of Superior between 1888 and 1898.
Initially well-received by the men who sailed them and the companies that purchased them, a series of high-profile mishaps tarnished the reputation of the ships to the point where many sailors refused to serve aboard them. Although their overall safety record was similar to other designs of the era, when fully loaded, they rode very low in the water, with the waves often rolling over the top of the hatches. While this was precisely how the ships were supposed to function, it isn’t hard to see how sailors accustomed to their boats being mainly above water might have found this disturbing.
Further, the low profile of the ships made them difficult for other vessels to see, especially in poor weather conditions. In July 1901, the whaleback Sagamore was riding at anchor waiting out fog when she was rammed by the steamer Northern Queen. The Sagamore split amidships and sank very quickly, killing three.
The most notorious mishap involving a whaleback, however, occurred on June 7, 1902. The Thomas Wilson left the harbor in Duluth carrying a load of iron ore. Because the weather was clear and calm, the ship departed with some of her hatches open, the crew still in the process of closing them as she made way. At the same time, a conventional wooden steamer, the George Hadley, was entering the harbor. At the last minute, the Hadley was directed to divert to Superior Harbor because all the docks at Duluth were occupied. The Hadley turned into the passing Wilson, striking her just forward of the open aft hatch, rolling her to port, and allowing tons of water to enter her fully-loaded cargo hold. The Wilson sank within three minutes, drowning nine of her 20-man crew.
Although the Hadley was primarily at fault for the incident, it did not escape the notice of other ships in the harbor that, despite significant damage, she remained afloat, and none of her crew were lost. Loading rules for whalebacks were subsequently revised so that all hatches had to be closed before leaving the dock, but the mariners of the region did not quickly forget the speed and ease with which the Wilson sank. The wreck of the Wilson, incidentally, is still there, a mile outside Duluth Harbor in 70 feet of water.
Most whalebacks, however, did not suffer such a dramatic end. The majority were either scrapped for their metal during WWII, or like the Meteor, continued plying the lakes until their obsolescence. She made her final run in 1969, then was purchased and outfitted as a museum ship in 1971.
As the last above-water ship of her type, the Meteor is a popular tourist attraction for those interested in Great Lakes shipping, and her permanent on-land berth at the far end of Barkers Island has grown into a family entertainment venue. Visitors can tour the ship, play a round of putt-putt, visit the gift shop, and get an ice cream cone all in the same afternoon. And for those who wish to make a fashion statement, Duluth Trading Company offers a line of foul-weather gear named after the whaleback.
Comments
Post a Comment