The Marco Polo

The Marco Polo made many consistently fast passages over her years in service to the Black Ball Line and all of her captains drove her hard. She was a lucky ship in many ways and survived grounding twice without damage and had two minor collisions with icebergs with little damage, as well as a galley fire on her second voyage.

She arrived off Port Phillips Head on her third voyage after a passage of 74 days, 12 hours, from Liverpool. While anchored waiting for a pilot over the night of January 24, 1854, the Marco Polo lost her anchor and some chain and the next morning as the tide began to ebb she soon grounded off the beach at Pope's Eye. To get her off, the captain had to empty her water tanks, lighter off some cargo and send down her upper masts and yards before they were able to move her off on January 31st.

The following year in 1855, the Marco Polo, with the Australian mail aboard, was clearing from the Mersey and made contact near the Huskisson Dock entrance with the Glasgow. The Marco Polo crew was unable to keep her from going ashore as the tide ran out. When the next flood tide came they were able to refloat her undamaged and the ship continued on with her passage.

In 1861, the Marco Polo was on the homeward passage with a large number of passengers along with £260,000 of gold aboard when she struck an iceberg and damaged her bow below the waterline. The captain was forced to take the badly leaking ship to Valparaiso for repairs and did not arrive at Liverpool until 183 days after she had departed Melbourne.

The Marco Polo continued to carry passengers for the Black Ball Line to and from Australia until 1867. Her last passage from Melbourne was in 76 days and she beat the steamship Great Britain home to Liverpool. The Marco Polo's days as a passenger carrier had come to an end as her condition deteriorated over the years and she could no longer pass her passenger survey. So the Marco Polo entered into the general cargo carrying trade.

The condition of the Marco Polo deteriorated steady over the next four years and in 1871 she was chartered to sail for Callao for a cargo of guano. The bottom of the Marco Polo was damaged while loading guano in a storm and rather then make expensive repairs, her captain was able to obtain a clearance after purchasing a windmill pump and sailed for Liverpool.

Upon her arrival, ownership of the Marco Polo was passed on from James Baines & Co. to new owners, Leech, Harrison & Forwood, to satisfy a debt and they in turn sold her to South Shields merchants, Wilson & Blain, who entered her into the Tyneside coal and timber trade.

The Marco Polo tramped around the Mediterranean for the next three years. She was reduced to barque-rig in 1874 and her lower yards cut down by 12 feet. On her next voyage under her new barque-rig, a cargo of coal was loaded aboard and she sailed for Rio. The Marco Polo took on ballast at Rio after delivering the coal and sailed around the Horn for another load of guano at Callao. A dispute was going on at Callao between shippers and underwriters at that time and over 200 vessels were anchored in Callao Harbor.

The Marco Polo waited fifteen months to take her turn at the guano chutes to fill her holds.

Three days out from Callao, the second mate spied a large 16-foot shark swimming along side the ship and caught it. The shark was hauled up on the monkey poop deck and was still threshing about as the crew tried to finish it off with capstan bars and the shark went smashing through the cabin skylight and proceeded to wreck the furniture of the cabin.

There was quite a ruckus and the captain, cook, and carpenter came running. Once they saw what was going on, the carpenter grabbed an ax to try and cut off the tail of the threshing shark, but had a hard time of it and many of the ax blows missed their mark and damaged the deck. By the time the shark was finally done in, the entire salon was wrecked and blood and slime everywhere.

In 1880, the Marco Polo was said to be in good condition and entered into the North Atlantic timber trade sailing back and forth between London and Quebec and made four round voyages over the next two years, sailing over from London in ballast and returning from Quebec with timber.

The Marco Polo was sold in 1881 to Bell & Lawes of South Shields and continued on in the North Atlantic timber trade. She was damaged in a storm on April 30, 1882, and while in leaky condition was taken over by Matthew Isaac Wilson, a Liverpool broker, who in turn sold her to a Norwegian, Captain Bull, of Christiana, Norway.

The Marco Polo remained in the timber trade and her new captain sailed her to Quebec, and while she was unloading her ballast a fire broke out on board the ship, but was quickly put out with little damage. A cargo of deals was loaded aboard and the Marco Polo sailed on July 19, 1883, and was still in the St. Lawrence River three days later when the ship sprang a leak. Her pumps soon could not handle the water coming in and Captain Bull had little choice but to run the Marco Polo ashore at Prince Edward Island on July 22nd near Cavendish while the farmers of Cavendish beach watched from the shore. Among them was a former resident of St. John, New Brunswick, and a Mr. Bail, who had supplied some of her building materials thirty-two years earlier.

Upon the Marco Polo's grounding, her masts were cut away by her crew. She was hard fast and the crew could not get her off, so the Marco Polo was auctioned off the following month for $500 and her cargo brought $5500. By the time a salvage crew arrived, the water had swollen the deals and they could not be removed and soon parts of the hull were cut away to get at the deals.

A gale came on several days later and battered the Marco Polo to pieces. A fishing boat rescued the men and had a difficult time of it. At the end of the gale, the Marco Polo was no more. Her steering gear and stove were salvaged and were used again in the new Charlottetown Barque, Charles E. Lefargey, of Prince Edward Island. Other relics of the Marco Polo were removed including the stern carving of the Venetian traveler, Marco Polo, which remains on display on Prince Edward Island today.

The Wreck of the Staffordshire

The Staffordshire left the Mersey River on December 9th, 1854, with a full cargo of mixed merchandise and a quantity of gold; along with 180 Irish emigrants and a crew of 34 aboard for a run to Boston. Some say that the number of Irish immigrants was much higher.

Upon the Staffordshire's earlier remarkable record setting return passage from the Sand Heads of Calcutta to Boston in 84 days, arriving there on April 20, 1853. Enoch Train had returned her to the Liverpool run and she quickly resumed her place as the "Queen Clipper Packet of the Atlantic."

The Staffordshire certainly looked the part with her lower masts painted white and yards painted black. Her royal mastheads were crowned with gilded balls and spires and she presented a sweeping graceful appearance as she rode the tide down the Mersey accompanied by her pilot and upon discharging him Captain Richardson ordered the hoisting of sail for the homeward passage to Boston.

It was a fast passage across the North Atlantic and the Staffordshire crossed the Grand Banks in 12 days. A heavy gale blew down on the Staffordshire on December 24th and her rudderhead was disabled.

The gale force winds continued on for the next few days as the Staffordshire gingerly made her way with a temporary rudder in place. On December 28th, the stormy seas carried away her bowsprit along with the foremast. Everything above which went overboard and broke the fore-yard at the slings and also carried away the temporary rudder.

To prevent the stoving in from the bow, Captain Richardson ordered the wreckage cleared away and directed the work from the foretop. Unfortunately, Captain Richardson then fell from the foretop rigging thirty-five feet to the deck and injured his spine in the fall and also broke his ankle. He was taken below to his cabin and placed on the captain's table where he lay in great pain and tried to continue with the navigation of the ship.

The following evening, the Staffordshire was in the vicinity of Cape Sable near the Seal Islands and struck on Blonde Rock several times before she went off in deep water. Her crew made a desperate effort to beach her and got the pumps going but after twenty minutes there was a parting of the wheel ropes and the Staffordshire came up into the wind where she began to sink bow first. Chief Mate Joseph B. Alden went below to Captain Richardson's cabin and offered to carry him to a boat whereas the captain refused saying, "Then if I am to be lost, God's will be done."

The ship boats were lowered and launched with great difficulty and only 44 crew members along with one 25-year-old woman passenger escaped with their lives and Captain Richardson and all the Irish Emigrants went down with the ship. Other accounts give the number of survivors at 25. Chief Mate Alden jumped overboard from the stern into the chilly sea and was picked up by one of the boats.

One of the ship's boats ironically landed at Shelburne, close to Donald McKay's boyhood home. Another boat made it to Fish Island just inside Cape Sable with the survivors in the last stages of exhaustion where they were rescued by the island residents from the freezing surf and thawed out by their hearth fires. Another ship's boat with only seven men aboard landed at West Head on Cape Island.

Over the years a sorry tale of mutiny aboard the Staffordshire has surfaced among the residents of the South Shore of Nova Scotia, and the following October and November 1942 Shelburne Coast Guard newspaper articles bears this out.

TALES OF THE SOUTH SHORE

Loss of the Staffordshire

By Gilbert Nickerson

To most of the young people and many of the middle-aged in this west corner of Nova Scotia, the name Staffordshire is an unknown quantity except as it relates to certain parts of England. In the writers early memory he used to hear the name "Staffordshire", mentioned by old people in connection with a ship-wreck. And this wreck was also an event to reckon dates from. In connection with this wreck there were rumors that one of the boats reached land; there were signs of foul play. The crew reported that the ship struck the Blond Rock, off Seal Island, came off, and when half way across the mainland she foundered. This happening was in the winter and the next spring a fishing vessel while fishing in the Bay the crew thought they saw something under water which might be the sunken wreck. They tried to get marks for the location, but a haze over the land prevented that and so the location was lost. During the summer a Capt. Moses, from Boston, came here with a diving outfit to see if it was possible to locate the wreck, and if so to go down and salvage some of the gold that she was supposed to have on board.

Two months were spent searching, but the wreck was never located and Capt. Moses had to go back to Boston without the gold. Such is the story of the "Staffordshire as the writer" knows it.

Many years have passed by and the wreck of the Staffordshire was long forgotten.

During the summer of 1931, the writer was looking over a copy of the Liverpool Post that had been sent him from England, and in the "Log Book Columns" he caught the name "Staffordshire" which immediately revived old memories and he began to read. An old master mariner, Capt. S. J. Hatfield, made inquiries through the "Log Book", concerning the ship Staffordshire. He received the information he desired from a Mr. E. O. Wood, of Rangoon, Burma, India, and in reading that message from the other side of the world, it told the writer a few more things concerning that wreck than her ever knew before. This aroused his curiosity, and he determined to find out all he could from Shag Harbor.

But what information that I received did not ad much to my former stock of knowledge. The writer knew that he had one source left-his old friend Mr. M. H. Nickerson, of Melrose, Mass. and he found that he had struck it right, to get the information in full that he wanted, and it is this which follows:

"The Clipper Ship 'Staffordshire,' was built in East Boston by the Master Shipbuilder Donald McKay, born in Jordan Falls, Shelburne Co., Nova Scotia. She was built for Enoch Train of Boston, an owner of the White Diamond Line of packets. At the time of her stranding, she was on a voyage from Liverpool, England, to Boston in the winter of 1854, with a general cargo, and a large number of passengers for that season of the year and she was in command of a Capt. Richardson.

In the night of her stranding, a strong westerly gale was blowing, and a heavy sea was rolling in on the headlands beaches and sunken reefs.

The Staffordshire struck what was supposed to be the Blond Rock, situated about three miles S. by W. from Seal Island.

On this voyage she had a full cargo of assorted merchandise, and a large passenger list for those days, but the exact number, besides the ship's company was never known to the public, but it was said to be about three hundred. Only some 25 people were saved, including only one passenger, a young woman, who was in the first boat to land the next morning with a crew of ten men.

My informant says: At that time I was ten years old and our family lived on Fish Island, just inside Cape Sable, the cape known to mariners far and wide as the point of danger to navigators on this side of the North Atlantic.

Early in the morning I went out with an elder brother to watch the billows and breakers tumbling on a sand beach, about three hundred yards from our house. I happened to look seaward for the air was tolerably clear except for the flying spray, and I saw a white boat heave up on a high sea, a mile from land heading for that beach. We called our father, and he said at once that it was a boat from some wrecked ship, containing some of its crew, and her ran down to the beach to assist the castaways to land safely. Men from the two families living on the south side of the island, arrived on the spot at the same time just as the boat was nearing the surf. Its crew had oars out, but they were not rowing but just dipping the blades now and then to keep the boat steady before the wind.

As the boat plunged into the surf they attempted to stand up, but they were at the last stage of exhaustion and as the boat swung broadside on and heeled off suddenly as the retreating sea left her, most of the men fell out over the gunwale which was exposed to the sea. But the waves had receded so that the rescuers rushed into the shallow wash and dragged the helpless fellows up to a safe place on the beach, while they looked after those still in the boat unable to stand.

Among these latter was the girl of about twenty-five years, who being less exposed that the others as she had lain flat in the bottom of the boat when leaving the ship and the spray had iced her garments over so completely that she did not suffer from the cold like the others. She was able to walk without assistance, but most of the men were too far gone for that. Three of the wrecked crew were taken to our home, while the rest found quarters with the other families on the island. The tree with us included Anderson, the boatswain, a sailor belonging to the state of Maine, and a young Irishman, also a common sailor.

Not one of them could speak plainly enough to give an account of the disaster till they had been thawed out by the side of a roaring stove fire, and revived by hot drinks.

Then Anderson found tongue and opportunity to tell what occurred from the time that the ship struck until his boat got away from her, then on the point of sinking, as her leeyard arms dipped in the sea every time she rolled down, and no one was in charge though there was no panic among the passengers, Anderson said.

Few of them had realized the danger they were in. His boat was the captain's gig, but a very bulky craft, as sailors will understand, but capable of carrying more than the eleven who had landed in her. Replying to a question he was asked about the passengers, Anderson said, "they were just beginning to smell a rat." Asked, if there was a chance for anymore to be saved, he replied none whatever.

The ship had gone to the bottom for sure, and all on board had gone down with her, and the awful catastrophe did not seem to trouble him much, as he lounged by the side of our roaring fire with such changes of wet clothes as made him and his shipmates quite comfortable. Then he related the sad tale so far as he understood it. The ship had struck Blonde Rock as he thought, at ten o'clock in the evening; she came off immediately but her rudder had been carried away and consequently the ship was unmanageable. The wind was about W. by S., perhaps a little more southerly. The ship's bow swung off after striking, so that she lay on the starboard tack (the sheets had shifted from port after coming off the rock and before the fatal leak was discovered). From that hour until two next morning, the ship was merely laying to, with her head off shore and a strong flood tide was setting westward. The captain was in bed in his stateroom, having broken one of his legs in an accident some days before. Anderson said that as soon as the ship began to fill no man, officer or seaman was at his post; the ship seemed to be abandoned to her fate, with all sail set and no one at the helm.

Anderson took charge of one of the boats, and after a successful launch, his picked men keeping the boat from being swamped under the counter, in her leeward rolling, he went and asked the captain himself to be placed in the boat, which offer was refused.

But the captain told him that the land was 18 miles square to leeward. So Anderson declared he had done his duty, and but for him not one soul would have been saved from the wreck.

The storm continued the following day so boisterous that there was no passing from our island to the mainland. The wreckage from the sunken Staffordshire then began to drift ashore in windrows, consisting of the woodwork from the cabin and forecastlee with the fittings; but I do not remember seeing anything like spars among the wreckage; neither was there any articles of the cargo picked up then or afterwards. On the third day the gale abated, and we then learned that another of the ship's boats, a large one, containing only seven men, had landed at West Head on Cape Island, about two miles from our islet. The news soon followed that another boat with a few men had landed at Shelburne, a town on the South coast nearly 30 miles further east. As far as is known however, nothing was ever recovered from the sunken Staffordshire, so far as the people along this part of the coast were aware.

But instead of being Blonde Rock, good judges fully believe that it was the Cape Ledge three miles west of Cape Sable--the scene six years later of a still more appalling ocean tragedy the loss of the S. S. Hungarian with all on board, over four hundred people all told. Our conclusions are based on this kind of reckoning: "The ship struck the rocks at ten, p. m. Following that, till the time that Anderson left the ship (5 a. m. the ship foundering shortly after) she had been practically lying too, jogging as it were, with the current of her port side, setting northwesterly and making an oblique course of less than 3 miles an hour edging to windward. The 7 hours drift then would put the ship just 18 miles from Cape Sable, which would be about east by north, or a point more northerly; and that would agree with the Captain's statement as to distance and a fair wind. On the other hand the seven hours jogging from Blond Rock with the tide set, west of Seal Island stronger, and more northerly into the Bay of Fundy, the place of foundering would have been near the Tusket Islands, off the coast of Yarmouth. At any rate, without too close figuring, those three boats from the doomed ship could never have made land where they did, and in such comparatively short time, had Blond Rock really been the fatal obstruction to the good ship Staffordshire on that blustery night.

There was never an official inquiry made as to the particulars of the shipwreck, or the truths of the said stories. The fact remains, that with proper order on board many more people might have been put into each of those three boats and brought to land with the same degree of safety as attended the landing of those other few. According to Anderson, no one was in command during all these seven dreadful hours. He said, the girl passenger who came in his boat was the daughter of an old friend of his, who had requested him to take special care of her on the passage.

While he was getting ready to lower away his boat, she found her way on deck somehow, and kept begging him piteously to save her. At last her told her to leap into the boat which she did, and lay down close to the bottom until the lucky landing was made.

Such is the story of the loss of the Staffordshire, which is given to the public, and brought about in a very round about manner, by an old sea captain in Kemptville, Yarmouth Co., asking a newspaper in Liverpool, England concerning her, . . . .

In the next November 5, 1942 edition of the Shelburne Coast Guard the following letter written by A. H. Knowles, appeared in response to the previous story:

More about The

Good Ship Staffordshire

__________________

Was There Mutiny on Board--

Old Time Race Between Clipper Ships

____________________

I was much interested in Mr. Gilbert Nickerson's story of the clipper ship Staffordshire. How many times I have heard my father tell that thriller. As I remember it, some of the officers stopped at the hotel at Barrington Passage. It seems that there was very bad feeling among them. I remember him telling one of the mates, a man named Leet or Leak. How the general opinion of the community was that there had been a mutiny on the ship, as the Captain had fallen from the Foretop a few days before. They wondered why the captain of a ship like that should be in the Foretop. Some of the loud mouthed ones told how they put the hatches down as a priest was holding prayers with the emigrants, also how they pounded the fingers off many who tried to climb aboard the boats. As I heard it, I was always under the impression that she struck the Blond Rock, and foundered somewhere between Sea Island and bon Portage. Yet it would seem from Mr. M. H. Nickerson's story the general opinion of experienced men in that vicinity was that she had struck the Cape Ledge seems reasonable: and if she was on the starboard tack, she must have headed southerly. But I am a little confused on their deductions. Unless I have forgotten, the distance from Seal Island light to Sable light is 18 miles, E.S.E. and from Eastern cove of Seal Island to Bon Portage is 12 miles due east. Now it seems to me if Cape Sable bore E. B. N. 18 miles, seems to me she ought to have been close enough to Seal Island for her masts to have been out of water. The Staffordshire and her sister ship the Flying Cloud were very fast. The late Thomas Robertson, Sr. went to California in 1849 in a barque called the Pathfinder. He told of sighting a sail on the horizon in early morning, and as she came up and spoke to them it was the Staffordshire who asked if they had seen the Flying Cloud. It seems the two clipper ships were on a race to San Francisco. At dusk that day the Staffordshire was as far beyond them as she was in the early morning. But when the Staffordshire arrived in "Frisco" the Flying Cloud was hauled up and stripped.

A. H. Knowles

20 James Street

Lynn, Mass.

Word of the Staffordshire's, loss was received with great sorrow at the East Boston home of Donald McKay.

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