November 10, 2003

Ships

Yesterday in Detroit the church bell rang 29 times, just like the Gordon Lightfoot songs says.

It's only because of the song that I know anything about the Edmund Fitzgerald. I have no real connection to the Great Lakes, to mariners, or to ships. But the song piqued my interest, and apparently the interests of many others as well.

I tend to assume that everyone has heard the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, and if you have, you know the story (although she was headed for Detroit, not Cleveland. The load of iron ore, carried in the form of taconite pellets the size of marbles, was used in auto manufacturing.)

If not: on November 10, 1975, at about 7:30 in the evening, the Edmund Fitzgerald sank in Lake Superior. Earlier in the afternoon she'd sustained topside damage, a list, and lost her radars. Another freighter, the Arthur M. Anderson, was following the Fitzgerald and providing her with their radar information as she headed for the shelter of Whitefish Bay, but after going through a squall (where winds reached 45 knots and waves 30 feet), the Anderson lost the Fitzgerald from her radar. Though the last radio contact from the Fitzgerald's captain said "We are holding our own," the ship and all 29 of her crew were gone.

In 1995 the ship's bell was recovered from the wreckage and restored; it is now part of an exhibit at the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum. A replica bell inscribed with the names of the crew was placed in the pilothouse as an underwater memorial.

More than 6,000 ships have been lost in the Great Lakes, and according to NOAA, November is a particularly dangerous month:

The fall storm season coincides with the economic constraints of shippers wanting to get as many runs in before winter as possible, with the need for harvested grain to make it to market, and raw materials (ore, coal) to be stockpiled for winter. As storms become more frequent and more intense during autumn, ships more often encounter dangerous conditions as the strong winds associated with fall storms create larger waves.

Or

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called "Gitche Gumee."
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
when the skies of November turn gloomy.

Posted by Nic at November 10, 2003 03:20 PM | TrackBack
Comments

And now I'll be singing that in my head all night. Wonderful post. If I get outta work early enough, I'll link it.

And I was born next to Superior...Gitche Gumee.

hln

Posted by: hln at November 10, 2003 07:24 PM
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