by George Mathewson for the Sarnia Observer
(2003) High winds were still lashing the shore when a tugboat captain returning to Sarnia harbour reported that a large lake freighter had “tuned turtle” eight miles out. The mystery ship was upside down, its entire crew missing.
The gale had already destroyed every boat and boat house on Sarnia’s beaches, undermined a walkway and lifted the public bathhouse off its foundations. Being caught out in Lake Huron in such conditions would be horrific, indeed, The Observer noted on Nov.11, 1913. “No one could survive or reach the shore in such a storm.”
The legendary storm of 1913 was the mother of all Great Lakes blows. It pounded relentlessly for three days, whipping up 30-foot waves and blinding spray that froze to ship tops, forcing them to capsize. The barometric pressure hit 28.61, the third lowest ever recorded on U.S. weather equipment.
In the ensuing days, The Observer provided its readers with an admirable run of fresh news and first- person accounts. “(But) not until the lake gives up its toll of dead will the real results of Sunday’s storm be known,” it warned. Unfortunately, that didn’t take long. Ten bodies washed ashore at Port Franks, sparking a mystery that has endured to this day. Seven of them were wearing life preservers from the Charles S. Price, the upside-down mystery freighter, but the other three were wearing preservers from the Regina. Stranger yet, the engineer from the Price had on equipment from the Regina. It was speculated that the two ships had somehow come together in the storm. But the sunken Regina was later found 20 miles away. The final tally reached 235 dead, including two sailors from the Chippewa of Sarnia reserve, 12 sunken ships and 25 more driven ashore.
Sarnia’s Lyall Smith, who collects old newspapers as a hobby, said his favourite front page from The Observer’s past 150 years is the 1913 storm coverage. And for him, the strangest story of all was that of a firefighter, John Thompson, from the ship the Carruthers. Thompson’s father had the sad task of identifying his dead son. The young man’s hair had been bleached by long immersion in the water but his other features appeared to be unmistakable: the missing teeth, the “J.T.” tattoo on his left forearm, a burn mark on the shin. “So the family was rather surprised when he came walking in at his own funeral, “Smith said.
The storm also threatened Port Huron’s historic lighthouse and nearly undermined most of Point Edward, according to historian Victor Lauriston. The village was built on land reclaimed from a delta that once connected the St. Clair River with Lake Huron through two main channels. Before they subsided, the monstrous waves had nearly reopened the second channel, Lauriston noted.
“A few added hours and the topography of Point Edward would have gone back 140 years.”