On Tuesday night about 11 o'clock, Joseph Rose, a farmer of Priest Pond whose home is about a quarter of a mile from the shore, was suddenly startled out of a sound sleep by a heavy body falling across the bed where he and his wife were sleeping. On striking a light they saw a tall youth in mud-covered oilskins who spoke a foreign language, but from whom they gathered that he had come from a wreck. He counted up to 20 on his fingers, indicating there were 20 men aboard.

The sailor was Arthur Gerwick, who had gone overboard when the ship struck bottom and reached the shore unharmed before the ship had broken up and vomited the deal (or lumber) into the boiling surf.

Gerwick was made comfortable while Rose's son and another man went out to seek the wreck. Slowly making their way against the mighty nor east wind which was blowing dead on shore, they located the wreck by the smell of the deal, waved their lantern and shouted - a loud shout that rose above the howling wind came back in reply.

Mr. Rose went back and roused the neighbourhood and soon there was a large force of men on the shore. Fires were lighted on the bank so the men on the ship might know that help was nigh. At daylight it was seen that the wreck was ashore on Carew's reef, the most dangerous part of the coast, 50 yards eastward all the crew would likely have been saved.

The bow had twisted off, and the severed hull was pointing towards the shore. Two spars about a hundred feet long came ashore, also a lifeboat, some deck houses, bed clothes, trunks smashed open, kerosene casks, etc. All day the men on the shore waited to get a chance to go out with a dory but no chance offered.

During the afternoon the 17 men on the aft portion got into the only remaining life-boat and prepared to launch away. Just as the boat touched the water a huge comber struck and swamped the lifeboat and the men were tossed into the breakers. Then the men on the shore watched a heart rending spectacle, above the roar of the surf they could hear the gurgling shrieks, the bubbling cries of the strong swimmers in their agony!

One man drowned a few yards from ship, another drowned a few yards from shore when they saw his head disappear beneath the piles of floating lumber. The cook and steward were killed 400 yards east of the wreck, being carried there by the strong tide. The deal was washing off and on shore with the undertow and probably killed more than were drowned.

The men who did reach the shore were rescued with the greatest of difficulty, the undertow made it dangerous for the lives of rescuers as well as the rescued.

The strong current carried the living and the dead eastward, and the shore men ran along the base of rocky cliffs with ropes in their hands eager to drag to safety the men tossed about in the boiling surf. It was an agonizing spectacle to witness, men drowning so near the shore, sometimes the jagged rocks accomplished what the waves had failed to do. The lifeboat finally washed ashore with some men clinging to it, and more fought their way to shore with the help of their life-belts. One man on a plank was within a few feet of the shore when he became exhausted and was swept to his death by the merciless undertow. Another had reached the rocks when a huge wave washed him off and the sea claimed another victim.

Another minute or so in that choking strangling surf, where it was hardly possible to get a breath, and all would have been over, said the captain, who had kicked off his sea boots, and thus increased his changes in the struggle for life.

The news by this time had spread all over the province and had been flashed on wires all over Canada.

Would help ever come? Thursday dawned with the storm still at its height and the rain beating on the faces of the men who had kept watch on the shore and who had to holler in each other's ear, to make themselves heard above the din of the tempest. On the stern of the wreck two men were still visible, but on the fore part only one remained. At noon two young men arrived, Duncan Campbell from Campbell's Cove and Austin Grady from the Baltic - both were expert boatmen, accustomed to handling a dory. Clad in light clothing to be prepared for swimming if necessary, and having the oars fastened to the gunwales with lots of rope in place of thole pins, they rowed out against the terrible seas and rescued the two men from the stern portion of the wreck. But they were unable to rescue the man from the bow section, they made many attempts to throw a line to the man, but were obliged to leave without him.

For 48 hours he clung to the wreck, no food, no rest and holding fast to a line. The storm showed no signs of abating. Realizing that remaining on the wreck meant almost certain death, he determined to take a chance - (the lesser of two evils). So clasping a plank he leaped into the sea, he was caught by the current and whirled towards the shore, then a huge comber lifted him on top and bore him shoreward with great speed.

The men ran along the shore with ropes, one was flung to him and he caught it and was about to let go the plank when another huge wave lifted him up and carried him onto a flat rock and into the hands of his rescuers. He walked a short distance with the help of his rescuers, and then collapsed at the edge of the bank. He was only 22 years old and a native of Finland. His endurance under such terrible straits was nothing short of miraculous.

When the drowned men were taken from the water, they were laid out in Ryan's lobster cannery, the blood stained life preservers worn by the dead men and the marks on their bodies, told the sad story of the contact with the cruel rocks. All the bodies but one were buried in St. Columba Cemetery. One sailor, a native of Finland, was buried in the Union Cemetery in Souris West.

Copyright
Waldron H. Leard