Last fall I talked about Split Rock Lighthouse and how it came to be built after the dreadful winter storms of Nov. 28, 1905, which caused damage and destruction to 29 ships. Recently Voyageur Press, which publishes many wonderful Minnesota-related books, released this account of the deadly storm:
So Terrible a Storm by Star-Tribune reporter Curt Brown. The book opens with a brief explanation of the geology of the area and its history before diving into the real story: the enormous role played by shipping through the Great Lakes at the early part of the 20th century, and the development of the massive storm that had such a devastating effect on the final shipping runs of the year.
Today's weather forecasting is certainly far advanced from 100+ years ago, and yet even now it's far from an exact science. It's not surprising, then, that even though Duluth's weather forecaster, Herbert Richardson, was a diligent and painstaking forecaster (not to mention recordkeeper--years later, his meticulous records were studied for the clues they gave to the storm that emerged), still could not fully predict how punishing the storm would be.
With winds over 60 mph and rapidly falling temperatures, the ships caught at sea--many of them knowing they were taking a risk, making a last run so late in the season--had little way of defending themselves against the wintry onslaught. Some ships washed ashore, crashing into rocky cliffs; others split apart in the icy waters of Lake Superior. The most visible case was the barge Mataafa, which attempted to dock in Duluth, but crashed into the dock and split in half. The waves rolled over the barge as the crew frantically tried to save themselves; waves dashed the lifeboats against the ship, causing them to splinter into useless pieces. Lifesaving crews from shore were reluctant to take their flimsy boats out on the massive waves. A crowd of 10,000 people braved the weather to watch the drama unfold in front of them.
Brown's telling of the tragic story is lively and well-documented. He not only covers the ships, but the people who were in charge of them, as well as the executives of the shipping companies who, perhaps, did not always put safety first. Particularly appealing is his portrayal of reporter Mary McFadden, a female journalist ahead of her time, who was able to get the tough crewmen to break down and tell her the emotional side of the story.
The book is also lavishly illustrated with period photos. Brown really did his homework--he's combed historical archives all over the state and come up with some amazing pictures, including several of the stranded Mataafa. My one quibble with the book is Brown's periodic "novelization"--at times, he gives the people trains of thought that he can't possibly know is true.
But at the same time, that's what gives the book its high level of readability. And compared with the newspaper writing of the time, one can hardly accuse Brown of being overly dramatic, especially compared with Mary McFadden's writing about the crowd of onlookers watching the Mataafa flail:
"A noble lake leviathan, the Mataafa, is lying just off the canal pier with the fate of her crew unknown, while watchers are pacing up and down besides the bonfires on shore and waiting for daylight.
"Another boat is being broken to pieces by the angry seas near Lakewood, but her crew is safe and sound. Still another is beached above the canal, her crew is safe with friends. What more despoliation and tragedy awaits this morning's knowledge cannot not be guessed. Science and human endeavor and the mighty work of human hands were flouted all day and all night by the elements gone mad."
Interested in ships, storms, the North Shore, history, or how people react under severe circumstances? This book's for you.
This book is already on my wish list. Thanks for the in-depth review :)
Posted by: Dominique | June 06, 2009 at 04:57 PM