With the steambarge, John M. Osborne, and numerous other intriguing shipwrecks in depths to 270 feet (81 metres), this corner of Lake Superior beckons to technically-trained divers.
Text and Photos by Cris Kohl
This contemporary drawing of the John M. Osborne, visualizes the tragic vessel's lines and rigging. (Photo: Marine Historical Collection od the Milwaukee Public Library.)
The Osborne's twin bow anchors, with only some rusticles hinting at how long they have been submerged, lie flat on the forward deck.
The Osborne's bow stem area, exquisitedly preserved at this depth, exhibits fine details such as bungs and wood grain. The metal-stock anchors lie in place, with their shanks extending through opening in the hull.
An adventurous minority of scuba divers has been diving deep in Lake Superior long before the name, "technical diving," was applied to their activities. Notable explorations, such as those on the freighter, Kamloops, discovered in 1977 lying on its side in 250 feet (75 metres) of water at Isle Royale, and the many 1980's trimix dives made by Ryan LeBlanc to the pleasure yacht, Gunilda, in 257 feet (77 metres) of north shore Lake Superior water, nowadays come as a surprise to some newly-trained techies (pronounced "tekkies") expecting to be the first to investigate these deep shipwrecks.
Coincidentally, the Edmund Fitzgerald, this modern victim of the gales of November, rests just within the Canadian border opposite Whitefish Point, a fact which befits the growing reputation of the Whitefish Point Underwater Preserve in the state of Michigan as the deep-diving capital of these inland seas.
As we reach the end of the millennium, increasing numbers of people are exploring the deep Great Lakes shipwrecks which formerly saw very few visitors. Things are getting considerably more crowded at Whitefish Point.
An important characteristic in this part of the Great Lakes is good visibility, averaging from 30 to 50 feet (nine to 15 metres) at a depth of 100 feet (30 metres), and increased visibility at greater depths. However, there is a price to pay for this positive condition: the water temperature below the surface stays uncomfortably close to the freezing point, while the surface may actually reach summer temperatures of 60 degrees Fahrenheit, which is not exactly tropical diving, either. Drysuits rather than wet-suits are recommended.
Whitefish Point, at the top of Michigan's Upper Peninsula and about an hour's drive west of Sault Ste. Marie, is surrounded by water and wilderness a fair distance from "civilization," yet several scuba charterboats operate out of this area; arrangements must be made in advance. Regular airfills, nitrox, oxygen and even argon (for drysuit use) can be purchased near Whitefish Point; trimix is also available, but it is not banked, so advance notice is required to have it brought up there. A small community aptly named Paradise, according to people who love the area, offers the nearest accommodations to Whitefish Point. For complete information on airfill stations, charters, accommodations, and restaurants, contact the Paradise Chamber of Commerce, P.O. Box 82, Paradise, Michigan 49768, U.S.A.
Weather patterns in July and August are the most stable and predictable, but the wind can still pick up with little or no notice, so a seaworthy boat capable of operating well in rough weather is necessary. Five launch ramps exist in the area for divers using their own boats (the most convenient being the one right at Whitefish Point), but harbours of refuge are few and far between. Caution is paramount.
These unpredictable conditions in nature helped sink many of the shipwrecks off Whitefish Point. Half of the 19 known sites in the underwater preserve begin in over 100 feet (30 metres) of water, including such historic vessels as the steamer, Comet, in 200 to 230 feet (60 to 69 metres), the early steamer, Indiana, in 100 to 115 feet (30 to 35 metres), the steel steamer, Superior City, in 190 to 270 feet (57 to 81 metres), the steel freighter, John B.Cowle, in 170 to 220 feet (51 to 66 metres), and the wooden steamer, Vienna, in 120 to 148 feet (36 to 44 metres). Diving to these depths is not for the brash or the careless; macho cockiness and encouraging words cannot replace proper training, experience, and honest site and self-assessment.
One of the deep sites well worth visiting is the steambarge, John M. Osborne. This ship became a total loss off Whitefish Point late in the evening of July 27, 1884, because of dense fog which was blamed for a collision between that vessel and the large, steel passenger steamer, Alberta. The relatively new Osborne had been launched at Marine City, Michigan, just two years earlier; her small, 178-foot (53-metre) length failed to avoid the even newer and overhasty Alberta, which had been travelling at an irresponsible 12 miles per hour upbound in that thick fog, blowing her whistles every two minutes, until she heard the Osborne's whistles just prior to the collision.
The terrible crash occurred just aft of the Osborne's mizzen mast; the Alberta's bow punctured the boiler, and deadly steam rushed out, scalding some of the crew. The ships were wedged together with the steel bow of the Alberta sliced halfway through the wooden hull of the smaller Osborne.
During the few minutes of locked togetherness, most of the Osborne's crew scrambled aboard the larger vessel. One passenger on board the Alberta, a man named Cook, did the opposite: he gallantly jumped to the deck of the doomed, smaller vessel to assist with the crew's removal, and he almost succeeded. The ships, however, parted unexpectedly, and the Osborne, weighed down by her full-capacity, 1,120-ton cargo of iron ore, within five minutes plummeted to the lake bottom, "twenty-seven fathoms deep," as the press reported, with three of her crew (the fireman named Mat Conners, deckhand Thomas Barnes, plus one unidentified deckhand) and the brave, but unlucky, Mr. Cook from the Alberta.
The damaged Alberta hobbled back to nearby Sault Ste. Marie with the survivors. A passing steambarge, the Hecla, picked up the Osborne's two undamaged tows, the schooner-barges George W. Davis and Thomas Gawn, both iron-ore-laden, and deposited them at the Sault. The Osborne was valued at $50,000 at the time of her loss, with her cargo worth another $35,000; total insurance on ship and cargo was for $73,000. The Alberta's hull repairs set her owner, the Canadian Pacific Railway, back $12,200-a lot of money at the time.
The passenger-and-freight steamer, Alberta, was a one-year-old enfant terrible. Built of steel in Scotland in 1883, this 305-foot (90-metre) vessel crossed the Atlantic Ocean, was cut in two at Montreal, had both halves towed through the then-small Welland Canal, was reassembled at Buffalo, New York, and, along with her sister ship, the Athabasca, became the first steel vessel ever to ply the Great Lakes.
Built for comfort and speed, and attempting to impress her passengers and competition with the superiority of this new type of ship, the Alberta as often as possible tried to set speed records, much to the disparagement of other vessels. The Osborne tragedy was the Alberta's fourth collision of the 1884 season! Two weeks after she was repaired, the Alberta collided with the steamer, Campana, at Sault Ste. Marie. Seafarers nicknamed this steel vessel "the terror of the lakes," and, when the Osborne's owners sued the Alberta's owners for $91,237.50, one newspaper bluntly stated, "we hope that wild Canuck devil may be taught a lesson." Not many people liked the steamer, Alberta, but she stubbornly plied the waters of the Great Lakes, improving with time and experience, until she was finally scrapped in Indiana in 1947, 64 years after her launch.
Exactly one century after the Osborne sank, a prolonged, extensive search, combining efforts of the Great Lakes Shipwreck Historical Society and the Odyssey Foundation of Lansing, Michigan, located the shipwreck in the summer of 1984.
The John M. Osborne sits silently and well-preserved in 165 feet (50 metres) of cold water. The surface water temperature registered only 41 degrees Fahrenheit in mid-June, while, with little noticeable change, the gauge read 37 degrees at depth on the wreck. The Osborne is one of the numerous shipwrecks usually marked with an Underwater Preserves buoy; a free booklet describing all nine Michigan Underwater Preserves provides Loran-C numbers to the known wreck sites at Whitefish Point.
Descent sets one right at the bow of the upright Osborne, with its twin anchors uniquely in place and ready for use near the windlass and a collapsed bow capstan. Only some rust appears on these interesting items; zebra mussels, the scourge of shipwreck aesthetics in the southern half of the Great Lakes, are wholly absent from Whitefish Bay due to the water conditions not being conducive to the mussels' growth.
Penetration of this relatively-intact shipwreck is possible under the bow deck, where divers will find wooden steps and a potbellied stove. Back on deck, finning towards the stern, divers will glide past four belaying pins positioned in an intact mast rail. The Osborne's masts (steamers carried them; the earlier the steamer, the taller the masts) lie off the starboard side of the hull, still with blocks and crosstrees attached.
The boilers hang over the stern fantail, which, unlike the intact bow area, is broken up and open, with an extensive debris field containing many dishes. Another interesting item is a porcelain plate which is fused into the boiler. The engine has a tongue-in-groove, wooden encasing, possibly used to muffle the sound.
An enticing, almost mandatory post-diving activity on land is a visit to the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum at Whitefish Point. Some of the earliest deep divers in Whitefish Bay collected artifacts from shipwrecks as souvenirs prior to the establishment of the Michigan Great Lakes Bottomlands Act in 1981, which makes the removal of anything from a shipwreck illegal. When the Coast Guard station at Whitefish Bay was converted to a shipwreck museum in the mid 1980s, many artifacts which had been previously removed generously found their way into display cases for public appreciation and enjoyment.
This highly interesting, unique shipwreck museum can be contacted by writing to the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum, 111 Ashmun, Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan 49783, U.S.A., or telephoning (906) 635-1742.
With an increasing number of curious people visiting the shipwreck museum, and an expanding interest among scuba divers in technical dive training and seeing historic shipwrecks that actually look like ships, it won't be long before that narrow, dirt road to Whitefish Point gets broadened and paved. People will expect it of the Great Lakes technical diving capital.