30 YEARS – REMEMBERING THE EDMUND FITZGERALD

Thirty years ago this month (November 10th), the iron ore carrier the Edmund Fitzgerald sank in Lake Superior. 29 men died. The lake carrier was caught in one of the worst storms recorded on the Great Lakes. In the years since the Edmund Fitzgerald went down, the Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Mike Simonson has talked with those connected with the ship:

Transcript

Thirty years ago this month (November 10th), the iron ore carrier, the Edmund Fitzgerald, sank in
Lake Superior. 29 men died. The lake carrier was caught in one of the worst storms recorded on
the Great Lakes. In the years since the Edmund Fitzgerald went down, the Great Lakes Radio
Consortium’s Mike Simonson has talked with those connected with the ship:


Like the folk song relates, the November gales came early on Lake Superior in 1975. A storm
more fierce than even the most experienced lake carrier crews had ever seen hit the eastern side
of the lake. That night, Captain Dudley Paquette was shipmaster of the lake carrier Wilfred
Sykes…


“We were really out right in the middle of the lake. Just huge seas, 30-35 foot seas. I was
completely awash and I was on a super ship. I was registering 70, 75 knots steady with gusts to
100. Huge seas, I was completely awash. Water was flying over the top of my bridge.”


Like the carrier Wilfred Sykes, the Edmund Fitzgerald was a big ship, but early in the night the
captain saw ominous signs of trouble. The topside fence rails had snapped. The vents were torn
off. The radar was out. And the Edmund Fitzgerald’s Captain, Ernest McSorley had all the bilge
pumps on, trying to keep the ship from swamping.


Thom Holden is the curator of the Army Corps of Engineers Marine Museum. He says Captain
McSorley was in radio contact with Captain Jesse Cooper of the nearest ship, the Arthur
Anderson.


“The topside damage was an earlier report. After suffering this damage that Captain McSorley
did contact Cooper and ask him to shadow him down the lake. It was really several hours later
that what could be the last transmission from the Fitzgerald was received. Essentially Captain
Cooper or the mate asked McSorley how he was doing, how the vessel was riding. He said
‘We’re holding our own, going along like an old shoe.'”


In an interview from his retirement home in Florida, Arthur Anderson Captain Jesse Cooper said
the memory of that night still haunts him. He says Captain McSorley didn’t let on that his ship
and crew were in danger.


“I think he knew he was in trouble but he couldn’t spread the word because it would panic the
crew. (Simonson): How do you think he knew he was in trouble? (Cooper) What the hell would
you think if you had a hole in your bottom and were taking in more water than you could pump
out?”


At 7:10 that evening, the Fitzgerald disappeared from radar as it sailed into a snow squall only a
few miles from the safety of Whitefish Bay.


“My gut feeling was I knew she was gone when I couldn’t see her on the scope. Turning around,
I hated the thought of going back out in that sea.”


Radio communication from that night was recorded by the Coast Guard at Sault St. Marie
Michigan. The Coast Guard was asking captains to turn back into the storm and search for the
Fitzgerald. You’ll hear a distressed Captain Cooper answer the call.


“(Coast Guard:) Think there’s any possibility that you could turn around do any searching, over?’
(Cooper) ‘Oh God, I don’t know. That sea out there is tremendously large. If you want me to, I
can but I’m not going to be making any time. I’ll be lucky to do two or three miles per hour going
back out that way, over.’ (Coast Guard:) It looks like with the information we have that it is fairly
certain that the Fitzgerald went down. We’re talking now a matter of life and death and looking
for survivors that might be in life rafts or in the water. We can only ask the masters to do their
best without hazarding their vessels.'”


The U.S. Coast Guard rescue vessel Woodrush had left the Duluth port but it took 21 hours to
arrive on scene. Captain Jimmy Hobaugh says a life ring from the Fitzgerald popped up as they
arrived.


“Of course we searched for the three full days and it was rougher than you can imagine. No
matter how I turned the ship, we were taking green water over the top. If there had been someone
there, I’m positive that my crew was good enough that we would’ve got ’em.”


None of the men’s bodies were recovered.


Among the crew of 29 was Third Mate Michael Armagost of Iron River, Wisconsin. His widow
Janice says the families of the 29 men who went down with the Edmund Fitzgerald struggle with
their loss…


“Nobody realizes that there are survivors. I mean, my kids’ father is on that ship and my
husband’s on that ship. And people just think of it as a shipwreck that happened so long ago, and
it’s not.”


The families of the crew of the ship now say all they want is the final resting place of their loved
ones to remain undisturbed by divers. Only the bell of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald was
recovered and placed in the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum at Whitefish Point, Michigan ten
years ago.


For the GLRC, I’m Mike Simonson.

Related Links

No Commercial Dives Allowed on Fitzgerald

  • The Edmund Fitzgerald sank just off Whitefish Point in Lake Superior. Diving to the site has now become controversial. (Photo by John Allen)

The doomed ore carrier Edmund Fitzgerald lies in the Canadian waters of eastern Lake Superior. Now, the Ontario government is strongly discouraging expeditions to the shipwreck. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Mike Simonson reports from Superior:

Transcript

The doomed ore carrier Edmund Fitzgerald lies in the Canadian waters of eastern Lake Superior. Now,

the Ontario government is making expeditions to the shipwreck off-limits. The Great Lakes Radio

Consortium’s Mike Simonson reports from Superior.


Twenty-nine men were lost in hurricane-force winds November 10th, 1975 in Lake Superior. For years,

families of the crew have asked that the ship be left alone. None of the bodies were recovered and

are believed to be in or around the ship.


Ministry Spokesman Guy LePage doubts they’ll grant any more permits for expeditions to anyone.


“Given that the tragedy didn’t happen all that long ago and there are living next of kin, we’ve not

supported diving on the wreck.”


Even though this is the 30th anniversary of the loss of the Edmund Fitzgerald, LePage says no one

has applied for an expedition permit.


For the GLRC, I’m Mike Simonson.

Related Links

Migrations

Changes to our world – and to our environment – have been a matter of course throughout history. But knowing that offers only limited comfort to Great Lakes Radio Consortium commentator Mike VanBuren:

Transcript

Changes to our world – and to our environment – have been a matter of course throughout history. But that knowledge only offers limited comfort to Great Lakes Radio Consortium commentator Mike VanBuren.


Many years ago, when I was a rookie newspaperman working in northern Michigan, I often drove from my home in Mancelona to Whitefish Point on Lake Superior.

Whitefish Point was a glorious place to visit – particularly during the spring and fall, when raptors, waterfowl and songbirds were migrating through the Great Lakes region. Hundreds of thousands of birds funnel through the Point each year, thanks to land and water features that create a natural flight corridor.

I enjoyed going there to walk the beaches, watch the birds and see the giant freighters pass by on their way to and from the busy locks at Sault Ste. Marie.

Whitefish Point was a peaceful place in those days. And I was often alone, as I stood on the shore with my face against the invigorating Superior winds.

But something unsettling has occurred in the two decades since I made those pilgrimages. The Point has been discovered by large flocks of tourists. And the narrow road that reaches north from Paradise is sometimes clogged with cars, SUV’s and tour buses.

I returned to the Point recently, hoping to find the same peace and serenity I’d enjoyed there as a young man. I was pleased to discover that the old lighthouse – first lit in 1849 – had been carefully restored, along with a handful of whitewashed outbuildings.

That would have been enough for me.

But developers apparently thought the Point needed something more to attract visitors. They built a new facility to house the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum, along with a large gift shop – complete with meeting space and flush toilets. Wooden walkways had also been laid across the sandy dunes to allow greater access to the surrounding forest and beach.

I didn’t see many birds that day, although the folks at the tiny Whitefish Point Observatory could probably have told me where they were. I did see a lot of people, though.

“All things must change to something new – to something strange,” said Longfellow.

You’d think I’d be used to it by now – that I’d no longer be surprised by change. But I am. It always leaves me feeling a bit disoriented.

In my more lucid moments, I know the Great Lakes region will continue to evolve. And I know I’m as much a part of this process as real estate developers and gift shop proprietors.

Some change is even good – although the definition of “good” varies from person to person. Life itself is an uncertain migration – with constant shifts in our needs, attitudes and relationships to the outdoors.

I think it has always been that way.

As I retreated that day from the Point and drove south toward the Mackinaw Bridge, I thought about the Native Americans who lived beside Lake Superior long ago. Like me, they probably watched earlier generations of hawks, eagles and owls cross Whitefish Bay – and marveled at their beauty and grace.

I can imagine their ghosts, skirting the shores of the bay in birch bark canoes on cool moonlit nights – searching for some familiar landmark that will lead them home.

Perhaps one day mine will do the same.

***Mike VanBuren is an environmental writer who lives near Richland, Michigan. ***