Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

The Final Voyage of the Valencia
The Final Voyage of the Valencia
The Final Voyage of the Valencia
Ebook144 pages1 hour

The Final Voyage of the Valencia

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

A dynamic retelling of the deadly 1906 sinking of the SS Valencia off the southwest coast of Vancouver Island, one of the worst maritime disasters in Canadian history.

There are few places on earth that have such a high record of marine casualties as the short yet treacherous stretch of coastline known as the Graveyard of the Pacific. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, the fifty-six kilometres between Port Renfrew and Cape Beale off Vancouver Island saw dozens of shipwrecks and claimed hundreds of lives.

On a blustery night in late January 1906, the steamship SS Valencia, heading from San Francisco to Seattle and Victoria, met its tragic fate on the rocks near Pachena Point. With over one hundred passengers and sixty-five crew members on board, only thirty-seven people survived the wreck. All of the women and children perished.

With journalistic precision, compassion for the victims, and condemnation for those who neglected to prevent the tragedy, author Michael C. Neitzel recounts the Valencia’s ill-fated final voyage, drawing heavily on first-hand accounts of the survivors and witnesses. The Final Voyage of the Valencia is a must-read for anyone interested in the maritime history of Canada’s west coast.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 19, 2020
ISBN9781772033168
The Final Voyage of the Valencia
Author

Michael C. Neitzel

An award-winning filmmaker and author, Mike has sailed over 50000 miles on his own ketch between Vancouver, B.C., and the south seas islands, Australia and Hawaii. Mike recently directed and produced a one-hour special for PBS titled SOUNDS OF HOME - MUSIC FROM THE OZARKS. Mike is currently working on his new novel WILLIAM, a heart-wrenching and gripping story about a young man growing up during England's dark ages. Just recently published on Smashwords is his novel "Black Pearls and Poppies", and just awaiting publication are "The Valencia's Last Ridy" and "Follow Your Dreams", about Mike's and his family's three-year voyage through the South Pacific.

Read more from Michael C. Neitzel

Related to The Final Voyage of the Valencia

Related ebooks

History For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for The Final Voyage of the Valencia

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    The Final Voyage of the Valencia - Michael C. Neitzel

    Chapter

    1

    My God! Where Are We?

    The year was 1906. Theodore Roosevelt was in his second term as US president, and the prime minister of the Dominion of Canada, since 1896, was Sir Wilfrid Laurier. The population of the United States was 85 million, that of Canada just over 6 million, and the year before, Alberta and Saskatchewan had been declared the newest provinces of Canada.

    The production of automobiles in the United States reached 25,000 in 1905, and the famous Wright Brothers improved their flying machine of 1903 to the point where they could fly a full circle of close to 40 kilometres (24.5 mi.) in 38 minutes. US inventor Lee de Forest had developed a three-electrode vacuum tube amplifier that would greatly improve radio and wireless transmissions and save thousands of lives at sea. In 1906, a single-family home of beautiful Victorian design, not much different from the large urban home of today, sold in Victoria for $3,700.

    On January 20, 1906, a beautiful sunny Saturday, the steamer Valencia was tied up at the Embarcadero in San Francisco, getting ready for her trip north to Victoria and Seattle. The calls of the gulls mixed with the clatter from the Valencia’s cranes, lifting the last pieces of cargo on board. Once in a while the blast of a steam whistle could be heard above the general commotion. Some passengers had climbed the ratlines on the forward mast to have a better view of the busy scene below.

    Family and friends stood on the dock, waving and smiling to those already on board. Most men wore bowler hats or caps and were dressed in dark suits, vests, and bow ties for the occasion. The women wore fancy long dresses and hats adorned with artificial flowers. The scent of the ocean mixed with the smells of creosote and tar, and the scene was charged with excitement and vitality. San Francisco Bay was covered with small whitecaps, and the Pacific Ocean beyond the Golden Gate glittered in the morning sunlight. The steamer blew her whistle three times, a sign of imminent departure.

    Some wiped tears from their eyes as loved ones departed. The cook had come out on deck and was leaning on the railing, smoking a cigarette. He surveyed the scene. He had already survived four shipwrecks and had an uneasy feeling. But there was no reason to feel apprehensive, he told himself. It was a fine day, the trip north was routine, and should not take longer than three or four days. Still, somehow, he wished he were among those standing on the dock rather than on the Valencia. He sighed, threw the cigarette butt over the side and turned back towards the galley. It was time to prepare the evening meal. With a last look at the blue sky, he opened the door and stepped back inside.

    A bustle of crew on the Valencia, some waiting on the dock to board the ship, whiel others climb the rigging or mill about on deck.

    The Valencia ready to leave San Francisco for Nome, Alaska, in 1905. A few months later the embarkation scene was repeated when she left for Victoria and Seattle.

    Author’s Collection

    The Valencia carried some 104 adult travellers in first and second class, including 17 women and small children, as well as 65 officers and crew. The exact number of passengers is unknown because many were never found, and many others were unrecognizable in death, robbed of their human features and the dignity of a proper burial by the fury of the sea.

    She was an iron, single-screw steamer with three decks and gross tonnage of just under 1,600. She was not fitted with a double bottom, and her hull construction was primitive. But she was a pretty ship. Her black hull contrasted with her white upper decks, while her slanted single funnel and masts gave her a look of speed and determination. Built in 1882 in Philadelphia, she was 77 metres (253 feet) long and just over 10 metres (34 feet) wide. She first operated under the flag of the Red Star Line, serving between New York and Central America. During the Spanish–American war in 1898, she operated as a government transport between San Francisco and Manila. She had subsequently been in service to Nome and Valdez in Alaska, and on California routes.

    She arrived on the west coast late in 1898, owned by the Pacific Coast Company. She was, however, operated by the Pacific Coast Steamship Company, a subsidiary of the former, which had purchased her for $150,000. The company had a poor safety record, with disastrous consequences. On January 2, 1902, the steamship Walla Walla, under the command of Captain A.L. Hall, was rammed by the French bark Max and sank off Cape Mendocino. Many lives were lost.

    In another incident only two years later, the Queen City, under Captain N.E. Cousins, who will play a major role in the account of the Valencia tragedy, caught fire at sea. Fourteen lives were lost.

    On November 27, 1904, the steamer Mainlander sank after being rammed by the tug Sea Lion. Miraculously, no lives were lost.

    Another company mishap would result in tragedy for many of those waving goodbyes from the Valencia. She was not really supposed to undertake this voyage. The regular vessel for this run north to the Juan de Fuca Strait was the City of Pueblo. But that ship had narrowly escaped disaster when she ran aground on the Columbia Bar and was under repair. The Valencia took her place. She, also, had not been a lucky ship.

    On her last trip north to Nome, Alaska, in the fall of the previous year, she ran into a storm during which a portion of her cargo was lost overboard. Soon after, she ran aground while attempting to reach St. Michaels, Alaska. Her captain was Oscar Marcus Johnson, now destined to run her on the rocks for the last time near Pachena Point.

    Among the crew there was a general feeling of uneasiness, unusual among the happy-go-lucky mariners. Seamen are traditionally suspicious, and when they heard that a black cat had come aboard at St. Michaels, they believed that some disaster awaited the ship. There had been other predictions of doom. There was the story of a wandering gypsy who had forecast approaching disaster and had told the wife of the fourth officer that the ship would be wrecked. Then there was the cook, who had already survived four wrecks. Just after the Valencia struck, he had reportedly exclaimed, I knew it! I have known it all along that she was doomed!

    The Valencia was licensed to carry 286 passengers. She had three cargo holds, and carried a wide assortment of goods, from 60,000 pounds of beans for the Northwest Territories to eight cases of metal polish for Suva, Fiji. She had four watertight metal bulkheads and two boilers, with six furnaces altogether, and was allowed a steam pressure of 100 pounds. Her last annual inspection was on April 27, 1905, in Seattle. In November 1905, she was reinspected, and on January 3, 1906, was again specially reinspected in San Francisco. These inspections were to become a controversial subject.

    She was equipped with six lifeboats and one work boat, which were carried swung out on davits whenever at sea for emergency use. The lifeboats and the working boat had a capacity of 181 people. She also carried three life rafts, with a capacity of 44. Two of these rafts were made of tule reed, better known as cattail, to provide floatation. This material would come under severe scrutiny and criticism during the investigation following the disaster. As well the Valencia carried 368 life preservers, 315 of which also were of tule, and the rest cork.

    Four anchors with 90 fathoms of chain for each and a Lyle line-firing gun with 457 metres (1,500 ft.) of line were also part of her equipment. A Lyle gun is used to fire a thin rope up to 305 metres (1,000 ft.). This thin line can then be used to pull the much heavier main line. On the Valencia, this main line was a 13-centimetre (5-in.) rope stowed on her after deck, which was intended to support a breeches buoy that could be used to haul passengers and crew to safety. As far as it was possible to determine, she was equipped as the law and regulations required.

    Of her three decks, the saloon deck was mostly open to weather. Below was the main deck, and below that the lower deck. On the upper, or saloon deck, were two series of cabins. The hurricane deck was located on top of the aft series of cabins. The fiddler’s deck was located forward, on top of the forward cabins. (Although referred to as decks, the last two were merely the roofs of upper deck cabins.) The lifeboats were carried three on each side; the two forward ones hung in their davits along the fiddler’s deck, and the two aft ones hung in line with the hurricane deck where the life rafts were also stowed.

    The pilothouse was on the saloon deck at the front of the forward series of cabins. Just aft of the pilothouse, on a level with the roof of the cabins, was the bridge, which was about 30 metres (100 ft.) from the bow. And just aft of the bridge, on the same level, was the charthouse. Her average speed was about 11 knots or just over 20 kilometres per hour (12.7 mph).

    The Valencia’s passenger list (see the Appendix) reflected the society of the day. It

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1