November has a reputation for storms on Lake Michigan, and 1912
was a noteworthy year for ship sinkings. Those unfamiliar with the Titanic learned about it in the Kate
Winslet-Leonardo DeCaprio movie by the same name. Artifacts from Ahnapee-born Herman
Schuenemann’s Christmas tree ship Rouse
Simmons are in Rogers Street Fishing Village and Museum in Two Rivers, Wisconsin. That story was the subject of books, a
stage musical and, for years, a Storm
Stories feature on the Weather Channel.
The story of the Three
Sisters wasn’t quite so well known, however Dyckesville priest Father
John Melchers, Edward Delfosse and George DeBaker were each awarded the Carnegie Medal of
Honor for courageous rescue efforts. It’s a family story; Grandpa’s brother-in-law
was the master of that schooner. Grandpa sailed with him. But not that day.
In late November, Capt. Phillip Klumb and his crew, Soren
Torgerson and Andrew Hanson, loaded the Three
Sisters with hay at Chaudior’s dock and were bound for the lumber camps in Cedar
River north of Marinette. The schooner would leave Cedar River loaded with
logs. Klumb and his wife, the former
Anna Johnson, had family members up and down the bay of Green Bay from Little
Sturgeon to Red River, and in Marinette. Phil and Anna grew up just down the
road from each other at Lilly Bay, where her father Peter, a commercial
fisherman and farmer, owned the dock. After their marriage the couple made
their home in Mennekaune, a small community along the Menomonee River,
sandwiched between Marinette and Menomonee. Shipping provided opportunities for
family socialization, but that November it was a funeral that brought the
Klumbs and Johnsons together. It was the second funeral in 6 months as Anna’s
mother died of breast cancer in June.
On what turned out to be the Sisters last trip in the fall – or ever – there was apparently some
hesitancy about the trip, but they loaded anyway. As the vessel was leaving
Chaudior’s dock Friday afternoon November 23, 1912, it somehow got hung up on rocks.
Managing to release itself, the Sisters
began its northwest sail across the bay, however strong north winds
brought snow and rain, blowing the ship off course. It was sighted at anchor
south of Chaudior’s off Dyckesville in Red River the next afternoon when an estimated
55mph wind was sweeping the area. It was evident that the men were trying to
ride out the storm. The wind kept up on Sunday. What really happened will never
be known because the three men died.
Gale-like winds washed over the boat, tearing windlass from
the forward deck, breaking the anchor chains. As the boat was pushed toward shore,
those living near the Dyckesville shoreline could only watch in terror as it
was washed in, pounding on the rocks about 300’ from shore. The engine had quit
and the fierce wind had taken the canvas, though the spars remained.
Capt. Klumb tied on his life vest and slid into the raging
water, attempting to make it to the beach, however the beating waves were
overwhelming him. As Klumb got a little closer Father Melchers treaded into the water and managed to grab Klumb whom he carried to a
nearby home. Capt. Klumb was barely alive and died of exposure an hour later.
The terrified folks on shore knew there were men aboard who
might be alive. Fisherman Edward Delfosse launched a small boat to begin a most
heroic rescue attempt. At one point his boat was swamped and pushed back toward
the shoreline. Somehow Delfosse made it to the Three Sisters to find Torgerson lying on a pile of ice-covered hay,
nearly dead. Delfosse got Torgerson into his boat and was nearly back to shore
when both men were thrown from the boat. They were close enough that bystanders
could pull them in, but by then Torgerson was dead. Hanson froze to death
earlier and was found wedged between hay bales on the deck. He and Torgerson
were both living in Marinette, but both had Door County roots.
In a strange twist of fate, it was thought one named Neil
Tillman was aboard the ship. When days later Mrs. Tillman went to identify her husband’s
body, the body was that of a man she’d never before seen.
The Sturgeon Bay Lifesaving Station was notified as soon as those
on shore were aware of the boat in trouble. Capt. Robinson and his lifesaving crew began a
valiant rescue attempt but the 55 mph winds hampered that crew too as they
searched along the bay. Sighting the water-logged Sisters was another matter. When the life-saving crew arrived on
the scene the following day, there was nothing they could do.
Newspaper accounts indicated Capt. Robinson and his crew
took care of salvaging, but Grandpa was there taking care of it himself. Perhaps
Robinson’s men had something to do with it, however the picture taken that day clearly
shows Grandpa on deck. Although newspapers say the boat was pounded to shreds,
there was definitely enough planking for Grandpa to walk on. The bow of the
boat is visible as is the anchor fluke. Three
Sisters is evident on both sides of the bow. If the boat broke free of its
anchors, why was one on deck? In the days that followed, Grandpa salvaged what he could before the hull just went to pieces.
The Three Sisters
was a small schooner with a 60’ length and 19’ beam. She was built in Fish
Creek in 1901 by another in-law, and mostly hauled out of Marinette, frequently
lumber for Washburn Lumber Co. in Sturgeon Bay.
Klumb bought the craft in 1907. He had owned the Reliance and the Defiance
earlier.
Newspaper accounts came from interviews of those on shore watching in
horror and, of course, speculation. A family’s account is what they know with certainty and what has been
learned from bystanders. What isn’t known is why the Sisters ever left Chaudior’s dock or how it got so far off course.
Possibly the hull was damaged as the boat was leaving the dock, and, as any
ship wreck in which all perish, there remain questions.
The waters of Green Bay and the waters of Lake Michigan hold
countless ships holding even more stories. Wisconsin Underwater Archeology and
diving groups have done much to document the history of lost vessels. Analyzing
their findings, they contribute much to Wisconsin’s maritime history. It is
doubtful any more will be learned about the Three
Sisters, but that could be another strange twist of fate.
That storm affected the family in yet another way. Algoma Capt. Herman Schuenemann and his crew died when his ship the Rouse Simmons sunk just north of Two Rivers. Schuenemann had been advised not to leave Thompson, Michigan, with his load of Christmas trees. Klumb and Schuenemann were well experienced captains whose rationale will never be determined. Ann Arbor 5 was nearing Kewaunee when the crew saw the Simmons in distress, yet the vessel was not signaling distress. The
One hundred two years later, the Titanic and the Rouse Simmons are well remembered. Nobody wrote songs and a musical about the Three Sisters or the other boats that went down in that same November storm, but they are chronicled. Anybody looking for a good book about the identified shipwrecks on the bay of Green Bay or the northern part of Lake Michigan will enjoy Paul J. Creviere's book Wild Gales and Tattered Sails. Rochelle Pennington and Fred Neuschel have written about the Christmas Tree ship, Rouse Simmons. Pennington has also written a children's book about the ship. Trygvie Jensen's volumes offer insights into commercial fishing and the fury of Lake Michigan. Lake Michigan does not easily share is secrets.
Picture credits: Capt. Armstrong's Wren in Algoma is the subject of the top photo. It is owned by and used with permission of historian and great-granddaughter N. Harvey. The photo captures Algoma in the schooner days, although newspaper accounts often mention 20 or so schooners riding at anchor. Bert Scofield, another first cousin, was running his men through a lifesaving drill in the Sturgeon Bay canal about 1900 when the picture was taken. The picture and that of Capt. Johnson salvaging are from family files and were most certainly saved from the Door County Advocate. The life-saving crew is a watercolor by N. Johnson and used with permission. The postcard is from the blogger's collection.
That storm affected the family in yet another way. Algoma Capt. Herman Schuenemann and his crew died when his ship the Rouse Simmons sunk just north of Two Rivers. Schuenemann had been advised not to leave Thompson, Michigan, with his load of Christmas trees. Klumb and Schuenemann were well experienced captains whose rationale will never be determined. Ann Arbor 5 was nearing Kewaunee when the crew saw the Simmons in distress, yet the vessel was not signaling distress. The
ferry's captain radioed Kewaunee Life Saving Station. Capt. Isaac Craite and his men were overwhelmed by the ferocious waves and could do nothing. Craite was the other grandpa's first cousin. Capt. Joe Dionne, a first cousin of both, had been transferred from the Two Rivers' station to Sheboygan. Taking his place was Capt. Paul Sogge a man with
Kewaunee County ties. When the papers later interviewed Capt. Dionne, he said he had never seen such a lake storm.
One hundred two years later, the Titanic and the Rouse Simmons are well remembered. Nobody wrote songs and a musical about the Three Sisters or the other boats that went down in that same November storm, but they are chronicled. Anybody looking for a good book about the identified shipwrecks on the bay of Green Bay or the northern part of Lake Michigan will enjoy Paul J. Creviere's book Wild Gales and Tattered Sails. Rochelle Pennington and Fred Neuschel have written about the Christmas Tree ship, Rouse Simmons. Pennington has also written a children's book about the ship. Trygvie Jensen's volumes offer insights into commercial fishing and the fury of Lake Michigan. Lake Michigan does not easily share is secrets.
Picture credits: Capt. Armstrong's Wren in Algoma is the subject of the top photo. It is owned by and used with permission of historian and great-granddaughter N. Harvey. The photo captures Algoma in the schooner days, although newspaper accounts often mention 20 or so schooners riding at anchor. Bert Scofield, another first cousin, was running his men through a lifesaving drill in the Sturgeon Bay canal about 1900 when the picture was taken. The picture and that of Capt. Johnson salvaging are from family files and were most certainly saved from the Door County Advocate. The life-saving crew is a watercolor by N. Johnson and used with permission. The postcard is from the blogger's collection.