Passing Hails of Schooner Days: Schooner Days DCCCLXXIII (873)

by C. H. J. Snider

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SCHOONER DAYS has two things in common with Winston Churchill. His Majesty the King did not choose either of us to preside at the liquidation of the British Empire, and Helen Merrill Egerton, that staunch Loyalist, has honored both us us with a copy of this poem, wherein we count ourselves fortunate.

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WM. L. DRAKE, 72 Fairview ave, Toronto, writes of the list of long ago Lake Erie vessels:

"First: The Lulu Beatrice was not a tug, but a small sized two-masted schooner, and her owner's name was Capt. Peter Hagerbloom of Port Burwell. Though I am not old enough to remember the Alzora I am pretty I am sure her owner was the same man.

"The Lulu Beatrice (named for one of the owner's daughters) came to grief in a storm while trying to make Port Burwell during the night, loaded with coal. She collided with the end of the west pier. I remember of the owner's brother Charles spending the rest of the night clinging to the masthead, while the owner's wife, who was the cook on her, was found drowned on the roof of the cabin, where it had washed in on the beach west of the harbor. The wreck was dragged to the inner part of the harbor where it lay for a number of years until it was torn out by the government dredge, the one now called No. 117, but then known as the 'Quebec.'

"The tug Norfolk's owner's name was Misner. 'Allie' Misner and 'Erv' Tedford later built a steel tug called the Miseford and they also owned the tug James Playfair, once owned by the well known shipping magnate.

STARLIGHT LONG SHINING

"The Starlight mentioned in the list was still to be seen when I was a boy, where her wreckage lay in the middle of the Big Otter Creek in Port Burwell, just below the bridge.

"The tug Belle, Capt. George Brown, was also of Port Burwell. George Brown and Henry Swan owned the two fish tugs, Belle and Swan, and Mr. Brown's brother-in-law, Charlie Bates, owned the tug May B., named after his daughter, with whom I went to school in Port Burwell. I see the Swan mentioned above is on the list. They were pound net fishermen.

"After Capt. Hagerbloom lost the Lulu Beatrice he bought another old schooner named the St. Clair, and I remember seeing her away out in the lake coming in to Port Burwell in a bit of haze. For a long time we were puzzled what the thing was she had aloft, for it had a triangular topsail hung from the masthead to a cross arm, and the angle at which the ordinary sails were to us was such that we could only see their edges. (This sounds like a raffee set on a squaresail yard). The St. Clair never made another trip but was allowed to sink and rot just below the bones of the Starlight in Port Burwell.

THIS STORY IS COMING

"The other vessels mentioned as out of Port Burwell were all before my time but I have heard the old folks of town talk about most of them. There was one, however, which I have long hoped to see the story of her last trip in Schooner Days, and that was the Erie Wave.

"I knew Freeman Foster, listed as one of the owners of the Craftsman. His three sons live in Port Burwell yet. They were my schoolmates and claimed some relation to the famous Abigail Becker. The 'Lillian' was undoubtedly owned by W. Y. Emery & Co. and if so would be named after one of his daughters. I am wondering if the tug Ida Belle (Capt. Charlie Bates) would not be the same one as the Belle mentioned above with the 'Ida' left out when and if George, Brown became the owner?"

GREY SHIPS

FAIR as Suri roses, those he brings to me,

Pale La Tosca roses blowing by the sea.

 

How can I but love them, with their hearts of gold,

When a skylark sings above an English wold.

 

Though my heart is on the sea, the wide, wide sea,

With the battleships wherever they may be.

 

Though I follow in their wake by night and day,

Where a silver spindrift and a salt spume play -

 

Where the sea-birds wheel and cry, wheel and cry,

With the battleships of Britain sailing by.

 

On a Devon hillside sings a nightingale

Near me as I linger by an ivied rail.

 

How can I but listen where a rose in bloom

Sheds its scented beauty in the purple gloom,

 

Though my heart is on the sea, the blue, blue sea,

With the battleships wherever they may be.

 

Storms of war again have gathered from afar,

On the ocean breaking where the grey ships are -

 

Even in a fury lashing with their gales

Little ships with sunset on their saffron sails.

 

And. my soul is fevered lest I ever hear

Winds of dawn, sea-scented, where the shore lies near -

 

Winds of dawn with Drake's drum sounding in their wings

By the sea in Devon where the throstle sings.

 

There where Drake in spirit dwells, down Devon way,

In the dark of night and by the light of day.

 

How can I but follow in the wake of war,

Far from where the skylark and pale roses are -

 

How can I but follow where the sea-birds fly.

With the battleships of Britain sailing by.

 

—HELEN MERRILL EGERTON.

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The "OLIVER MOWAT," a tall Ontario schooner long since passed out of the picture.