Over the Breakwater: Schooner Days MCCXXIX (1229)

by C. H. J. Snider

"THAT musta been the Halloween," interjected a Milford man, that "Ed Cook rode a trunk over the Oswego breakwater, when the Tranchemontagne was wrecked, for I mind him saying they was following the Flora in that Johnny Mitchel was telling about."

"Ed. Cook? Him that was captain of the—ol, what's this her name was?—I knew Ed. well, and he was wrecked at Oswego like you say.

"But I don't believe he rode a trunk over the breakwater, 'cause you'd neversee a trunk aboard

one of them vessels. In my time a trunk brought into a vessel's forecastle would be bust apart and tossed overboard afore the owner could hang up his hat. There wasn't no room for them. Sailors brought their dunnage in bags, 'cause they was easy to carry and make better pillows and—"

The argument trailed off into contrasts with saltwater practices, and a dispute over whether this was on the Halloween that Moses Dulmage was blown out of Point Traverse, or two years later poor Moses was lost in 1878. A good story foundered in the telling. But the facts salvaged are these:

Three "French vessels were built at the port of Lanoraie with the pretty name on the St. Lawrence, in 1864-67, and found employment in the great lumber trade out of Port Hope.

They were novelties on Lake Ontario - built of tamarac, for one thing, a long-lasting ship timber; straight sheered, which made them good carriers of squared timber; clipper bowed, with plenty of rake to their transoms, which made them smart-looking; and with their mainmasts nearer amidships. That involved less overhang of the main-book, making reefing easier, or at least safer for the man hauling out the earing and passing the plat. These details may be confusing, but they are only a few of the overlay upon Ed. Cook's breakwater trunk ride.

The F. E. Tranchemontagne - that was her registered name, always pronounced, in Ontario, as given in the top paragraph - was one of these three vessels. The Maria Annette was another, and Otonobee the third. The Tranchemontagne was the smallest, 134 tons register, 99 feet long, 22 ft. 6 in. beam and 8 feet deep in the hold. She was built in 1864 and noted for the luxurious fittings of her cabin, which would have suited a yacht.

She was fast, but perhaps because of her shallow hold and considerable deadrise, somewhat under. Above Port Credit in a hard northwest puff she capsized once when Capt. James Jackson had her, and her cook was drowned in the cabin, though all on deck escaped with their lives.

This was probably when she was owned by H. B. Rathbone [Rathbun], of Hastings, lumber merchant. She did not sink, either because of the buoyancy of her cargo or her tamarac construction, and Sylvester Brothers of Toronto became her owners. Capt. William Sherwood of Brighton sailed her in the Sylvester's employ; a God-fearing mariner who would not pull out on a Sunday, however fair the wind and weather. Yet, his season's record of trips was always as good as anyone else's.

The Tranchemontagne, indeed was coming along some miles astern of the Flora, bound for Oswego, on October 31, 1880. Like the Flora, she was reefed, but being a larger vessel and holding up well to weather of the entrance, Capt. Sherwood did not think it necessary to pile on more canvas to drive her in. He remembered too that she had once capsized.

She hesitated, and could not stem the turmoil at the critical spot. She broached to, and wind and wave cast her, head on against the breakwater west of the entrance, which she had thus vainly weathered. She cracked like an egg.

Legend has persisted that she leapt the breakwater on one mountainous sea and plunged into the inner harbor. The same story is told of the Two Brothers at Oswego, and of the B. W. Folger at Sodus or Charlotte, sixty years ago, but still lacks confirmation.

It was everything above deck in the Tranchemontagne, perhaps even the deck itself, eventually, that washed over the breakwater - including the crew.

Ed. Cook, later Captain Cook, was lucky if he was swept over on the trunk-like provision box which stood on deck, forward of the galley, in those pre-refrigerator days. Five others were hurled over the breakwater, amid the crash of falling masts, rending hatches, burst bulwarks and the stove-in cabin.

Sylvester Brothers lost $10,000 in property in 10 seconds. Marvelously, not one life was lost. Capt. Sherwood and his whole crew were picked up by the tugs that huddled inside, waiting for an easy fee when by courageously plunging out into the lake they might have saved the ship herself from death.