All Hands Safe

The Wreck of The Oakey L. Alexander

by Tom Seymour

USCG and local residents approach the Oakey Alexander to aid in rescuing the crew. Courtesy Cape Elizabeth Historical Society.

The March 3, 1947 Nor’easter that swept the Maine coast broke a number of records for its intensity and destructive power.

Fierce, 80-mph winds created huge waves that ultimately proved too much for several vessels. Even ships at their moorings were jeopardized, as was the case with Vandal, a 95-foot dragger that was tied up at a wharf in Rockland Harbor for repairs. Wind and waves combined to rip the vessel loose and sent it adrift, taking a 40-foot section of dock with it. The Vandal then struck a neighboring vessel and then sank.

Another fishing boat, Pemaquid 2, was out at sea when it met a similar fate. Two persons aboard the doomed vessel perished.

And according to a March 6, 2017 article in the Bangor Daily News blog for Portland, in addition to all this, seven houses at Popham Beach fell victim to the fierce storm and were swept away.

A better known victim of the great gale, Novadoc, a 261-foot freighter carrying 4,000 tons of gypsum, sank with the loss of all 24 persons on board. Novadoc had left Deep Brook, Nova Scotia and steamed into the Bay of Fundy, where it was immediately faced with high winds and higher waves. Nonetheless, the vessel continued on its appointed course. But as time passed, danger increased and at 2:48 a.m., Captain A.J. Vallis sent out a distress call: “NOVADOC IN TROUBLE WE ARE TWO MILES EAST OF PORTLAND SHIPPING WATER INTO A BROKEN HATCH AND RUNNING BEFORE THE WIND.”

Later, the Coast Guard sent a search vessel out to find the Novadoc, but to no avail. In additions, three search planes failed to locate the vessel even after flying over 10,000 miles of barren water. But no trace of the stricken vessel was ever found and all aboard were considered lost.

Oakey L. Alexander in Peril

It took the Coast Guard less than an hour to gather personnel and equipment and get both to the shore near the stricken vessel. Local residents came out to volunteer in the rescue effort as the Coast Guard was shorthanded. Courtesy Cape Elizabeth Historical Society.

The Oakey L. Alexander, a 395-foot steamer with a load of 8,200 tons of coal, having left Norfolk, Virginia, was nearing the end of its trip and was pounding its way toward Portland.

In the early morning hours, well before sunrise and about eight miles from Portland, the vessel began rolling in heavy seas. Then around 5 a.m., a gigantic wave lifted the ship high above the water. This caused 135 feet of the bow section to break off and sink. Captain, Raymond Lewis, along with seaman Rodney Turner, were witness to the harrowing spectacle. Captain Lewis and seaman Turner estimated that the wave was approximately 80 feet tall.

Fortunately, a newly built bulkhead in the forward section prevented the balance of the hull from filling with water. Thus the vessel remained just barely functional. But the terrific storm, along with the loss of the bow section, made navigation difficult.

Thinking quickly, Captain realized that his only option was to head for shore at Cape Elizabeth and hope for the best. Captain Lewis told his crew that he would alert them three minutes before the vessel struck shore. Meanwhile, the crew, frightened but undaunted, went about their duties. Since the huge wave that broke the bow section had taken with it all the ship’s lifeboats, the captain ordered his crew of 32 to don life jackets.

So with boilers stoked to the fullest extent, Captain Lewis steered, perhaps aimed, the vessel toward shore.

But here things went even further astray. Earlier, the captain and crew had sighted the Portland Lightship and used that position as a homing beacon. But the lightship, unbeknownst to those aboard the Alexander, had been dragged by the sheer power of wind and waves, to a point several miles from its normal position.

The Grounding

While pushing through the gloom toward shore at Cape Elizabeth, the officers sounded the ship’s whistle at regular intervals, hoping to alert any other vessels in the area as well as ground-based rescuers. Distress calls sent from the ship’s radio remained unanswered.

And then, those aboard spied two separate lights in the direction they were heading. These turned out to be the two lighthouses on Cape Elizabeth. Captain Lewis had hoped to ground on the sandy shore of Crescent Beach and the sight of the rocky shore must have been greatly distressing to both he and his crew.

Seeing their predicament, the captain directed that engine speed be greatly reduced as he did his best to reach the safety of a sandy beach. But at 6:15 a.m., Oakey L. Alexander, grounded to a screeching halt on rocks about 600 feet out from land.

It took the Coast Guard less than an hour to gather personnel and equipment and get both to the shore near the stricken vessel. Meanwhile, huge waves pummeled the Alexander. The safety of crew and captain was not at all assured at that point and the men must have experienced great turmoil during the time it took help to arrive.

Since high seas and driving wind prohibited launching of lifeboats, the Coast Guard brought along a Lyle Gun. This was a type of cannon that fired an 18-pound shot that had many hundreds of feet of stout rope attached. Officer in charge, Chief Warrant Boatswain, Earle Drinkwater, was deemed the best person to fire the gun. Drinkwater had taken Coast Guard training courses on the use of Lyle guns.

Drinkwater fired the gun with perfect accuracy, with the shot landing safely on the helpless vessel. The men on board then took the shot and rope and secured it to the highest point on the ship that they could safely reach.

High-Drama Rescue

With the rope secured both on the Alexander and a point on shore, those on shore began the tedious and danger-fraught rescue of the men aboard the ship. This entailed rigging a breeches buoy, a round flotation ring with a harness to hold the men securely during the descent from the high point of the ship down to the shore.

The first to accept the challenge was 18-year-old David Rogers. During the five-minute ride to shore, Rogers was swamped by waves but held on tight, arriving unharmed but considerably shaken. Upon reaching shore, Rogers immediately knelt and kissed the rocks in silent gratitude.

The Coast Guard crew was understaffed because of recent budget cuts, so local people filled the void. Citizens swarmed to the site, farmers and fishermen, as well as members of the local fire department. All played a part in hauling on the ropes bringing men across the raging ocean, no small task in itself.

And since school closings due to weather were virtually unheard of in those days, a schoolteacher, Miss Storey, decided to give her class a first-person lesson in civics and so directed a school bus and driver to drive her and her class to the shore. It was a scene that many living today still vividly recall.

As one by one the men were pulled on their harrowing ride from the grounded vessel, the ship would roll as huge waves slammed into it, dunking the men on the breeches buoy and then, as the ship righted itself, hauling the men high in the air. In all, three men were driven underwater. One, Lorenz Connelly, suffered the most when the lines twisted and became stuck. Connelly was underwater for about 20 seconds. Upon reaching shore, Connelly was rushed to hospital, where he quickly recovered. One other survivor was hospitalized and he, too, enjoyed a swift recovery.

One local reporter likened the sight of men being pulled across from the Alexander to a bag of clothes swaying in the wind on a clothesline.

After the first mate, the last of the crew to be rescued, was safe ashore, Captain Lewis notified the rescuers that he would remain aboard the vessel in order to protect the owner’s investment. But Coast Guard members promised the captain that they would post a security watch and so Captain Lewis became the last soul to leave the grounded ship.

When all were safely ashore, Captain Lewis contacted the vessel’s owners, Pocahontas Steamship Company, saying, “Crew are to be commended for their calm and collected conduct. Every man did his part, and well.”

Captain Lewis was a true hero, never losing control and doing everything within his ability to save his ship and crew. In turn, Captain Lewis praised the Coast guardsmen for their steady, cool actions in the face of a screaming, raging Nor’easter.

The bow of the Oakey L. Alexander was never recovered, but salvagers did locate various bits of hull and superstructure. In the wake of the grounding and heroic rescue, hoards of the inquisitive visited the site to view what remained of the Alexander, stuck on the rocks in perpetuity. Much of the wreck remains there today, often visible at low tide where, during times of troubled seas, it continues to creak and groan, audible protests to a shipwreck that occurred 72 years before.