November gales have changed history

November — that most capricious of months on the Great Lakes — all too often sees the powerful “Witches of November” with their gale force winds, rolling breakers and blizzards send ships and their crews to the bottom.

The icy “witches” are winds caused by intense low-pressure systems over the Great Lakes — inland cyclones. The winds can be as powerful as Category 1 or Category 2 hurricanes with winds in excess of 95 miles per hour.

More ships have been lost on these inland seas in November than in any other month. In recorded history, more than 6,000 shipwrecks have occurred with the loss of more than 30,000 lives throughout the Great Lakes, with 40 percent of those occurring in November.

The Rouse Simmons, the fabled 205-ton schooner Christmas tree ship, disappeared beneath the waves in a winter gale Nov. 23, 1912. It was last seen low in the water with tattered sails, flying its flag at half-mast to signal distress before it sank off Two Rivers. A bottle carrying a message from the Rouse Simmons washed ashore Sheboygan. Corked with a small piece of cut pine tree, it read: “Friday … everybody goodbye. I guess we are all through. Leaking bad. God help us.”

The “Big Blow” of Nov. 7-10, 1913, sank a dozen ships and drowned 275 sailors. This marathon storm sank eight out of 18 ships battling the storm on Lake Huron.

The Carl D. Bradley, a self-unloading freighter, sank in a Lake Michigan storm Nov. 18, 1958. All but two of its 35 crew members were lost. Twenty-three hailed from Rogers City, Michigan.

Nov. 28, 1966, the SS Daniel J. Morrell, a 603-foot Great Lakes freighter, broke up and capsized in a strong storm on Lake Huron, taking with it 28 of its 29 crewmen.

The Edmund Fitzgerald sank on Nov. 10, 1975, 40 years ago this month. The Fitzgerald’s final voyage began in Superior, loaded with taconite pellets. The storm that broke up the 729-foot freighter had sustained winds of 67 miles per hour, gusts of up to 86 miles per hour and waves reported up to 35 feet. Twenty-nine men were lost.

A similar tragedy has affected Sheboygan County for more than 160 years. The Phoenix sailed out of Buffalo Nov. 11, 1847, loaded with more than 250 Dutch immigrants, among others. Heavily laden with coffee, sugar, molasses and hardware, it was destined for ports on Lake Michigan. It was the Phoenix’s last trip of the year.

The trip across Lake Erie from Buffalo was rough and windy. The first stop on the schedule was at Fairport, Ohio, east of Cleveland on Erie’s south shore. While there, Capt. Sweet fell and broke his knee and was out of commission for the entire remainder of the trip.

The weather was no better on Huron. The Phoenix plunged and rolled as wave after wave smashed at it.

Through the straits of Mackinac and into Lake Michigan, the little vessel sailed. Same weather, different day. The ship sought shelter in the lee of Beaver Island at the north end of Lake Michigan. For two days, the Phoenix waited. Repairs were made. Sea sickness abated.

A stop was made at Manitowoc Nov. 21, 1847. Cargo and a few passengers were off loaded, and because the seas were again high, the captain gave orders to lay over until the wind abated. By 1 a.m., the night was cold and clear, and the lake was like a sheet of glass.

The Hollanders aboard, who had left their homes at Winterswijk, Varsseveld, Holten and other towns in the eastern part of the provinces of Gelderland and Overijssel two months before. This, their last night on board, should have been a happy one.

But, at about 3 a.m., the boiler made ominous sounds and had gone dry. By 4 a.m., smoke poured from the engine room and the alarm of fire rang out. Bucket brigades formed, but they proved inadequate.

The 350 passengers aboard faced awful prospects. The ship’s deck was a searing inferno. The water was frigid, with no survival possible beyond a few minutes. Five miles out from shore, no one had any hope of reaching land on flotsam of the ship even though some tried. And the lifeboats? The ship’s only two were grossly inadequate to evacuate even half the passengers on the overcrowded ship.

A perfect storm of mishaps doomed the Phoenix that Nov. 21 so long ago. Had the lifeboats been adequate, more would have survived. Had it been June and the weather warm, more people would have survived. Had the captain been in command, the disaster would likely have been averted. Had this happened in daylight, other ships would have had steam up. Survivors might have been rescued. And so it goes. This tragedy virtually stopped immigration from the Netherlands for nearly 10 years.

November has always been a fickle month on the Great Lakes. From the Phoenix to the Edmund Fitzgerald, the gales of November changed history.

Beth Dippel is the executive director of the Sheboygan County Historical Research Center.