My wife and I have three intrepid children, grown now, one son and two daughters. Between school and jobs and the adventures of youth, they have traveled this country and the world. From Haiti to Sri Lanka, Scotland to Spain, Mongolia to Alaska and the nether regions of the far north, they have seen the world.
Currently, our youngest daughter, the artist, is living and working on Mackinac Island in northern Michigan. Mackinac Island (pronounced Mack-in-awe) is one of the most beautiful places on planet Earth. Sitting in Lake Huron, with Lake Superior to the north, Mackinac Island is nestled between Michigan’s upper and lower peninsulas. With history dating back to the 1600s, the island is a fascinating place to visit. One interesting thing about Mackinac is the fact that cars are not permitted on the island. With the exception of utility service vehicles, and wacky tourists and vendors on bicycles, all transportation and deliveries are made via horse and wagon.
Marigrace is a dray driver for the service company on Mackinac. With her team of big draft horses, Percherons, she is tasked with delivering goods of all kinds from the docks to every corner of the island. It’s a pretty cool job and Marigrace seems in her element.
In sharing her daily experiences with us, Mae has mentioned watching the big freighters that navigate the straights and pass by the island. One of these massive lakers is the SS Arthur M. Anderson. The Anderson is easily identified by her old-school de sign, with the bridge at the bow instead of the stern (as in more modern lakers). Everyone enjoys watching her pass by the island.
The SS Arthur M. Anderson has a storied history. Built in Ohio and launched in 1952, she was named after the director of U.S. Steel Corp. She has been navigating the Great Lakes for 71 years. With a capacity of 25,300 tons and a length of 767 feet, she is a beautiful monster of a ship. It is breathtaking to watch her pass the island. But more than being a testament to America’s industrial might, the SS Arthur M. Anderson is a floating piece of maritime history. On the stormy night of November 10, 1975, the Anderson was the last ship to have contact with the SS Edmund Fitzgerald.
Made famous by Gordon Lightfoot’s 1976 story song, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, many will recognize this tale. The Edmund Fitzgerald, at 729 feet, was one of the largest freighters on the Great Lakes. She had left Superior, Wisconsin on November 9, carrying iron ore pellets, bound for Detroit. The next day, November 10, she was caught in a horrific storm.
The two captains, Ernest M. McSorley of the Fitzgerald and Jesse B. Cooper of the Anderson, had agreed to run together through the forecasted storm. They planned to maintain radio contact and follow the Canadian shoreline which offered more protection from the wind and waves. As the weather worsened, winds approached 65 mph.
During the last leg of their run, as both ships raced for the protec- tion of Whitefish Bay, Capt. Mc Sorley reported 20-25-foot waves washing over the decks and water pouring below deck through two broken air vents. At 7:15 pm, the Fitzgerald disappeared from the Anderson’s radar. Repeated radio calls to the Fitzgerald went unanswered. Capt. Cooper reported the missing vessel to the U.S. Coast Guard and conducted a futile search of the area, looking for survivors. None were found. The Fitzgerald was later discovered 15 nautical miles from Whitefish Bay in Canadian waters. The bodies of all 29 crew members were never recovered.
In memory, the final stanza of Gordon Lightfoot’s song reads: In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed In the maritime sailors’ cathedral The church bell chimed ‘til 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 As part of the history and lore of the Great Lakes region, this is a November story worth remembering.
© 2023 Jody Dyer
