Another wonderful story about men and the sea (or in this case, men and the Great Lakes). As a kid who grew up about 20mi from Lake Erie and about 40mi from Lake Ontario, I learned both how wonderful the lakes are for recreation and how terrifying they can be in the winter. I watched the big ore and grain carriers as they headed into Buffalo and wondered about their last port of call. My grandfather had been a merchant mariner and my father was on a destroyer in the North Atlantic in WWII. Both gave up the sea and became railroad men who worked those ore and grain deliveries from stable ground.
Lise and I took a long road trip last year through the upper Great Lakes. On one of the Fall days as we cruised from Duluth to Marquette Wisconsin along Lake Superior, the day was clear and calm. Before the weather shifted, we stopped at a local park in Wisconsin. Just offshore (literally 100yds) is the wreck of the ore carrier schooner Lucerne. In November 1886, a storm came up and the ship wrecked and settled on the bottom. The plaque at the park reiterated what you said “they almost made it.” However, the storm was so horrific that the crew never realized they were so close to shore. Later that day as we drove along the Lake Superior coastline of the UP the weather turned grim and we crossed the Mackinaw Bridge in a driving rainstorm.
The Great Lakes have an enchantment that is the stuff of dreams and nightmares. The families of the men who died and those who survived know the power of the great waters.
Jason - great article! I’ve conducted a lot of wreck dives, some of them “body jobs” recovering folks that didn’t make it out of the water alive for one reason of another. I think of them every time I dive. As you said, we are not supposed to be down there in the first place ;). Dive safe!
Don’t beat yourself up too much, Jason. We often use the wrecks themselves as memorial-like stand-ins for those who lost their lives on them — think of the Arizona and Fitz memorials, working as both memorials to the vessels as well as their crews.
Maybe Submechanophilia isn’t the word. But maybe there’s something which gets at that additional human aspect you wrote about. Or maybe, since Submechanophilia only exists because you brought it into being, it now covers that too.
Fantastic story! And another amazing example that in the intricate tapestry of life, there exists no coincidences, merely a vast network of interconnected threads, waiting for us to unravel the hidden connections that bind our destinies.
Jason,
Another wonderful story about men and the sea (or in this case, men and the Great Lakes). As a kid who grew up about 20mi from Lake Erie and about 40mi from Lake Ontario, I learned both how wonderful the lakes are for recreation and how terrifying they can be in the winter. I watched the big ore and grain carriers as they headed into Buffalo and wondered about their last port of call. My grandfather had been a merchant mariner and my father was on a destroyer in the North Atlantic in WWII. Both gave up the sea and became railroad men who worked those ore and grain deliveries from stable ground.
Lise and I took a long road trip last year through the upper Great Lakes. On one of the Fall days as we cruised from Duluth to Marquette Wisconsin along Lake Superior, the day was clear and calm. Before the weather shifted, we stopped at a local park in Wisconsin. Just offshore (literally 100yds) is the wreck of the ore carrier schooner Lucerne. In November 1886, a storm came up and the ship wrecked and settled on the bottom. The plaque at the park reiterated what you said “they almost made it.” However, the storm was so horrific that the crew never realized they were so close to shore. Later that day as we drove along the Lake Superior coastline of the UP the weather turned grim and we crossed the Mackinaw Bridge in a driving rainstorm.
The Great Lakes have an enchantment that is the stuff of dreams and nightmares. The families of the men who died and those who survived know the power of the great waters.
Cheers,
JR
Jason - great article! I’ve conducted a lot of wreck dives, some of them “body jobs” recovering folks that didn’t make it out of the water alive for one reason of another. I think of them every time I dive. As you said, we are not supposed to be down there in the first place ;). Dive safe!
Belatedly catching up on my Swimpruf subscription and feel so pleased to have finally read this. What a fabulous article.
Thx. Great article. I tend not to dive wrecks as I have an ear for the echoes. Inspiring places.
Thank you Jason, for telling this story, and yes! Thank you Zachariah Haske, for allowing it to be told. I look forward to seeing your film, sir.
The web of humanity is small indeed. Thanks for reminding us.
Don’t beat yourself up too much, Jason. We often use the wrecks themselves as memorial-like stand-ins for those who lost their lives on them — think of the Arizona and Fitz memorials, working as both memorials to the vessels as well as their crews.
Maybe Submechanophilia isn’t the word. But maybe there’s something which gets at that additional human aspect you wrote about. Or maybe, since Submechanophilia only exists because you brought it into being, it now covers that too.
Possibly another story about this tragedy down the road?
Wow. Evocative and heartfelt story.
What a heartfelt and superb article. Thank you as always for sharing.
Fantastic story! And another amazing example that in the intricate tapestry of life, there exists no coincidences, merely a vast network of interconnected threads, waiting for us to unravel the hidden connections that bind our destinies.