Five Decades Ago, The Famous S.S. Edmund Fitzgerald Was Lost In Lake Superior In A Tragedy That Remains A Mystery Today

America’s Great Lakes are a chain of five mammoth interconnected bodies of water that span the border between the United States and Canada. They’ve earned their name, too, from their great size and great depth, their great biodiversity and, unfortunately, their great storms. These storms, while not tropical, have sometimes been so strong that some of the boats that leave port never find safe harbor. One of them was the S.S. Edmund Fitzgerald. Half a century ago, the Edmund Fitzgerald was a famed sight on the Great Lakes. Then, on the evening of November 10, 1975, she went down with all 29 of her crew in a mystery that remains somewhat unsolved to this day.

The Great Lakes–Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie, and Superior–are natural wonders. The five lakes alone hold nearly a quarter of the freshwater on the Earth’s surface, and together, they dwarf the world’s other lakes. Part of what makes the Great Lakes so fascinating is that they don’t behave like a typical lake. Their surfaces act a lot like a sea, and the lakes even impact weather. In some situations, a rough Great Lake might even be more dangerous than an open ocean.

The unforgiving lakes have caused countless boats and larger ships to founder, often taking their crews and passengers down with them. Perhaps the most infamous story of a ship lost in a storm on the Great Lakes is that of the S.S. Edmund Fitzgerald. The “Mighty Fitz,” as many called her, was the largest ship on all of the lakes, and also a record-setting workhorse that carried tens of thousands of tons of iron ore from Midwestern industries. But the ship wasn’t just a vehicle of industry. When she was on the water, she was the home and the workplace of 29 hard-working, beloved people, from her captain to her cook.

There have been countless stories told about the Fitz. Yet, the legend of the Edmund Fitzgerald has never graced the pages of The Autopian. Today, on the 51st anniversary of the ship’s sinking and the loss of her crew, we will be changing that. Here’s why the S.S. Edmund Fitzgerald remains a big deal, even today.

What Makes The Great Lakes Violent

America’s Great Lakes are incredible machines of nature. You can spend your whole life near the lakes, and they will continue to surprise you.

When these lakes are calm, their surfaces are comparable to a sheet of glass. Seriously. If the sun is at the right position with just the right number of clouds in the sky, the water almost becomes mirror-like. When the water is calm, there’s a kind of tranquility you won’t find anywhere else.

But don’t let that fool you, because the next time you see the lake, it could have waves so high and currents so strong that even a good swimmer couldn’t beat it. When the Great Lakes whip up storms, they can become ferocious monsters that, in some cases, make a storm on an ocean seem preferable. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) explains the science behind storms on the lake:

The Great Lakes often experience hazardous winter weather conditions—like Arctic air outbreaks, large winter storms, and lake-effect snow events—but ice coverage throughout the Great Lakes can help to buffer some of the impacts of these winter storms. Some of the biggest storms to impact the Great Lakes occur in the fall and winter as cold air from Canada plunges south and interacts with warm, humid air rising north from the Gulf of Mexico. These large winter storms can produce very high waves within the lakes. Ice cover along the shores and in the bays work as a barrier to protect the shoreline from erosion and the coastline from flooding, especially when water levels are high. If there is little to no ice, the shoreline and coastal infrastructure are much more susceptible to damage from these storms.

In addition, lake-effect snow is also common in the late fall and early winter across the Great Lakes. Cities downwind of the lakes, such as Buffalo and Watertown in New York or Marquette in Michigan, routinely see several events a year. Some of the most intense events can dump feet of snow in a matter of hours, which can damage property and lead to loss of life. The amount of lake effect snow events and the severity of such events are tied to the amount of ice cover across the Great Lakes and how warm the waters are compared to the air blowing over it.

Years that feature low ice cover have the greatest potential for large and impactful lake-effect snow events. Once the lakes begin to freeze over the “fuel” (relatively warm water, when compared to the air directly above the water) that drives these events is no longer available, and the lake effect snow machine essentially shuts off. This relationship between low ice cover and the potential for bigger lake-effect snow won’t last forever, however. That’s because the phenomenon is not just about ice cover, you also need cold air blowing over the ice-free lakes. If air temperatures continue to warm, these snow events will turn to rain events.

Here’s a video of a ship riding out a storm on Lake Huron (click here if you don’t see it):

The deadliest storm in Great Lakes history is the so-called Great Storm of 1913, and NOAA explains what happened there:

Nicknamed the “White Hurricane,” this major winter storm stuck the Great Lakes on November 7-10, 1913, resulting in a dozen major shipwrecks, with an estimated 250 lives lost. It remains the largest inland maritime disaster, in terms of number of ships lost, in U.S. history. This historic storm system brought blizzard conditions with hurricane force winds to the Great Lakes. The unique and powerful nature of the storm caught even the most seasoned captain by surprise, as two low pressure centers merged and rapidly intensified over the Lake Huron, with periods of storm-force winds occurring over a four day period. Vessels at the time withstood 90 mph winds and 35 foot waves, but it was the whiteout conditions and accumulation of ice on the ships that turned an already dangerous situation into a deadly one, as ship captains were unable to maintain navigation.

Maritime travel on the Great Lakes can become hazardous quickly, especially when the infamous November gales blow. In 1913, Weather Bureau forecasters would send gale warnings via telegraph to more than a hundred stations along the Great Lakes shores, where volunteers would display flags and lanterns to warn sailors of deteriorating conditions. These warnings were typically hoisted 12 to 24 hours in advance of a storm. For sailors leaving port, there was no means of knowing the character of an approaching storm, and vessels beyond the sight of land were unable to obtain any information. In the case of the White Hurricane, Weather Bureau forecasters issued gale warnings on November 7. However, even the forecasters were caught by surprise by the strength and longevity of the powerful storm.

At the time, weather forecasters did not have the luxury of computer models, nor the detailed surface and upper-air observations, weather satellites, or radar needed to make the most accurate predictions.

The Mighty Fitz was caught in one of these historic storms, and by all accounts, she and her crew put up a valiant fight.

The S.S. Edmund Fitzgerald

When she was constructed in 1957, the S.S. Edmund Fitzgerald was the pride of the Midwest. The company responsible for her construction was the Northwestern Mutual Life Insurance Company of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. At the time, Northwestern Mutual was interested in diversifying its portfolio beyond insurance, traditional bonds, and mortgages. Post-war iron ore and minerals industries were booming, and Northwestern Mutual wanted in on the action.

The massive Great Lakes freighter is an important vehicle to transport bulk material across a lake. Freighters can carry tens of thousands of tons of material in a single run, and aren’t burdened by rail or road infrastructure, car traffic, or highway weight limits. Shippers love to look at efficiency in terms of ton-miles per gallon, or how much weight a gallon of fuel can carry over a distance.

According to the Interlake Steamship Company, America’s largest private U.S.-flag fleet on the lakes, a Great Lakes Freighter gets 607 ton-miles per gallon. In comparison, the average freight train can get around 500 ton-miles per gallon, while a truck might get 72 ton-miles per gallon. So, for those transporting ore in bulk, a ship just makes sense.

Back in the 1950s, there was a sort of arms race on the water. In theory, a bigger, better boat could carry more cargo and make more money, and there was already a ton of money to be made in shipping. Northwestern Mutual wanted the final word in Great Lakes freighters, and in 1957, contracted the Great Lakes Engineering Works (GLEW) of River Rouge, Michigan, to build the largest freighter ever seen on the lakes. The St. Lawrence Seaway, a series of canals, channels, locks, and rivers that connect the Great Lakes to the Atlantic Ocean, was under construction. Northwestern Mutual demanded that its ship be within a foot of the maximum length restriction of the Seaway.

GLEW laid the ship’s keel on August 7, 1957, and she was launched on June 7, 1958. When the S.S. Edmund Fitzgerald made her maiden voyage on September 24, 1958, she was the first ship built to the maximum size of the St. Lawrence Seaway, and she was a sight to behold. She spanned 729 feet long, 75 feet wide, and had a draft of 25 feet. This made the Fitz 13 feet longer than the next largest ship at the time. The boat held 29,120 short tons of bulk cargo in three watertight holds.

She got her name from Edmund Fitzgerald (below), Northwestern Mutual’s president and chairman of the board. Apparently, he protested the plan to have a boat named after him, and hoped to name the ship Centennial, Milwaukee, Northwestern, or Seaway. But the board went forward with their plan anyway.

The Big Fitz wasn’t just a big boat, it was also pretty luxurious for a freighter. The crew got to enjoy air conditioning in their quarters, two dining rooms, curtains for their portholes, plush carpeting, dedicated recreation rooms, a guest lounge, and even VIP staterooms. All of this was propelled by a Westinghouse coal-fired steam turbine that was good for 7,500 shaft horsepower. Later, she’d be refitted to burn oil rather than coal. At full speed, the propeller turned at 99 RPM, which got the ship to as fast as 16 mph.

Northwestern Mutual made an eight million ($94,408,671 in 2026) bet on the Fitz, though the whole enterprise had a rocky start. When the ship was launched, Elizabeth Fitzgerald, wife of Edmund Fitzgerald, tried to christen the boat by breaking a bottle of champagne on the ship’s hull. It took three tries before it finally broke. The launch was also delayed by 36 minutes as workers couldn’t get the keel blocks to release.

When the ship finally did slip into the water, it generated a wave so high that it drenched spectators and collapsed a grandstand. Reportedly, someone even suffered a heart attack and passed in all of the commotion. The video below (click here if you don’t see it) shows the ship’s launch:

But once on the water, the Fitz and her crew became an icon. From NOAA:

It loaded 22,475 gross tons out of Silver Bay on June 18, 1960, to set a new standard that was surpassed on numerous occasions. It was the first laker to top 26,000 tons, the first over 27, 000 tons and, in 1968, the first to carry 30,000 tons. In 1968, the Edmund Fitzgerald moved 1,358,074 tons of cargo through the Soo Locks, setting a new single-season record.

The S.S. Edmund Fitzgerald broke seasonal haul records six times over her career, sometimes breaking her own record in the process. The boat was made all the more famous by Captain Peter Pulcer, who had a knack for playing music through the ship’s intercom. He also used a bullhorn to educate those on the shore about the ship.

The Big Fitz’s Last Run

According to the Great Lakes Shipwreck Historical Society, at about 2:30 p.m. on November 9, 1975, the Big Fitz powered out of the Burlington Northern Railroad Dock No.1 in Superior, Wisconsin, loaded with 26,116 tons of taconite pellets. These pellets, which were processed iron ore that was heated and rolled into small balls, were bound for Detroit. It was the last haul of the season, and Lake Superior was calm. She was joined by the Arthur M. Anderson (below), which was traveling from Two Harbors, Minnesota, under the management of Captain Bernie Cooper.

On the bridge was Captain Ernest McSorley, a man who got to learn the ins and outs of the lakes over his 45-year career. Captain McSorley had gotten his crews and cargo through countless storms safely, and knew not to grow complacent with safety or with the weather. Running the Fitz was to be his last post before he retired. Five of the other 28 people on board were also lined up to retire after this trip.

On the afternoon of November 10, the 29 people aboard the Edmund Fitzgerald would face their toughest test yet, as the lake was hit by what some called the “storm of the century.” An Arctic front from the north collided with a warm storm system from the southwest, creating a monster. The Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum continues:

Aware of a building November storm entering the Great Lakes from the Great Plains, Captain McSorley and Captain Cooper agreed to take the northerly course across Lake Superior, where they would be protected by highlands on the Canadian shore. This took them between Isle Royale and the Keweenaw Peninsula. They would later make a turn to the southeast to eventually reach the shelter of Whitefish Point.

Weather conditions continued to deteriorate. Gale warnings had been issued at 7 pm on November 9, upgraded to storm warnings early in the morning of November 10. While conditions were bad, with winds gusting to 50 knots and seas 12 to 16 feet, both Captains had often piloted their vessels in similar conditions. In the early afternoon of November 10, the Fitzgerald had passed Michipicoten Island and was approaching Caribou Island. The Anderson was just approaching Michipicoten, about three miles off the West End Light. Captain Cooper maintained that he watched the Edmund Fitzgerald pass far too close to Six Fathom Shoal to the north of Caribou Island. He could clearly see the ship and the beacon on Caribou on his radar set and could measure the distance between them. He and his officers watched the Fitzgerald pass right over the dangerous area of shallow water. By this time, snow and rising spray had obscured the Fitzgerald from sight, visible 17 miles ahead on radar.

At 3:30 pm that afternoon, Captain McSorley radioed Captain Cooper and said: “Anderson, this is the Fitzgerald. I have a fence rail down, two vents lost or damaged, and a list. I’m checking down. Will you stay by me till I get to Whitefish?” McSorley was checking down his speed to allow the Anderson to close the distance for safety. Captain Cooper asked McSorley if he had his pumps going, and McSorley said, “Yes, both of them.” As the afternoon wore on, radio communications with the Fitzgerald concerned navigational information but no extraordinarily alarming reports were offered by Captain McSorley. At about 5:20 pm the crest of a wave smashed the Anderson’s starboard lifeboat, making it unusable. Captain Cooper reported winds from the NW x W (305 ) at a steady 58 knots with gusts to 70 knots, and seas of 18 to 25 feet. According to Captain Cooper, about 6:55 pm, he and the men in the Anderson’s pilothouse felt a “bump”, felt the ship lurch, and then turned to see a monstrous wave engulfing their entire vessel from astern. The wave worked its way along the deck, crashing on the back of the pilothouse, driving the bow of the Anderson down into the sea.

The Arthur M. Anderson and the Edmund Fitzgerald remained in radio contact. As the day dragged on, Captain McSorley’s reports illustrated worsening conditions. According to the History Channel, at one point, he said: “I have a bad list, lost both radars and am taking heavy seas over the deck. One of the worst seas I’ve ever been in.”

The Fitz was essentially wounded and sailing blind. The Edmund Fitzgerald would slow down as the Arthur M. Anderson had to provide navigation assistance. At around 7:10, Arthur M. Anderson first mate Morgan Clark radioed McSorley for an update. McSorley said, “We are holding our own.” Clark responded with, “Okay, fine, I’ll be talking to you later.”

The Sinking And Its Aftermath

(Below: A video of the Edmund Fitzgerald‘s wreck site. Click here if you do not see it. Content warning: Some images may be disturbing to some viewers.)

The S.S. Edmund Fitzgerald would never be heard from again. At around 7:15 p.m., the vessel disappeared from radar. It would take until November 14, 1975, to find the ship, which sits 530 feet below the surface about 17 miles away from Whitefish Bay. The bow is upright, while the stern rests inverted and at an angle compared to the bow. All 29 crew went down with the ship, and today, the wreck is considered to be a gravesite.

There has never been a confirmed cause of the ship’s sinking, only countless theories. The History Channel names some of the most popular ones:

U.S. Coast Guard and National Transportation Safety Board investigations concluded that massive flooding of the cargo hold through unsecured or damaged hatch closures most likely caused the accident. “Most experts these days dismiss it,” Bacon says. “If the hatch cover did give in, it would have gone down instantly. It would not have taken four or five hours of struggling along the way.” Another theory points to rogue waves, often more powerful on the Great Lakes than in the open ocean. “Salt water tends to blunt waves and spread them out,” Bacon says. “On the Great Lakes, they’re sharp and pointy like a mountain range, not a roller coaster. And they come twice as fast. So, they’re 10 to 16 seconds apart on the ocean and 4 to 8 seconds apart on the Great Lakes.”

The higher frequency of the swells ups the odds of rogue waves forming. It’s likely the embattled crew encountered two or three 54-foot waves and possibly a 60-foot swell. After sustaining repeated body blows, a towering wave could have delivered the knockout punch to an already compromised vessel. The sheer length and unique design of lake freighters left them prone to structural stress. Bacon points out the Edmund Fitzgerald was “as long as a 73-story skyscraper on its side” but only 75 feet wide. “All these ships are incredibly long and thin,” he says. “You don’t see these ships anywhere else in the world.” While the design allows these ships to squeeze immense cargoes through the lakes’ narrow lock system, it leaves them vulnerable in rough seas. It’s possible the lengthy Edmund Fitzgerald could have been perched atop one wave at its bow and another at its stern, leaving the heavy midsection unsupported and risking catastrophic structural failure.

A third possibility is that the Edmund Fitzgerald scraped the shallows near Caribou Island as McSorley unknowingly ran the ship aground. Already navigating an unfamiliar northern route with limited visibility, outdated charts and no radar, McSorley may also have been disoriented by 24 hours without sleep and “motion fatigue” similar to riding a roller coaster for hours on end. The captain of the Arthur M. Anderson reported that on radar McSorley seemed to run directly over Six Fathom Shoal, where depths in some spots drop to just 11 feet.

In the aftermath of the Edmund Fitzgerald disaster, Great Lakes freighters became much safer. They were required to carry LORAN-C positioning systems (now GPS), Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacons, survival suits, and depth finders. The United States Coast Guard also began inspecting vessels every year before November and changed policies to ensure ships had enough freeboard in the winter. NOAA’s forecasting models became better, as did navigational charts.

There was also a change in culture. Now, sailors and captains knew that the storms could bring down even the biggest ships on the lakes, and that the risk of going out into a storm just wasn’t worth it.

The Edmund Fitzgerald tragedy has been immortalized in the 1976 Gordon Lightfoot song “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” embedded above. The ship’s bell was also recovered in 1995, and each year, it rings to honor the 29 people lost on that November night. A replica bell was sent back to the wreck site. The Whitefish Point Light Station in Michigan and the Split Rock Lighthouse also illuminate their beacons every year in memory of those lost to the lakes.

If you want to learn about the Edmund Fitzgerald in person, the primary museum detailing the ship’s history is the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum at the Whitefish Point Light Station in Paradise, Michigan. The museum is open daily from May 1 through October 31, and is closed for the winter season.

NOAA claims that, since the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald, a large bulk freighter has not gone down in the Great Lakes. One ship did come close. The Michipicoten developed a steep list in June 2024 due to a hull break caused by potential metal fatigue. But the fact that a disaster like the Edmund Fitzgerald has not repeated is a testament to the many changes that happened to Great Lakes shipping in the aftermath. So, every November 10, don’t forget to hold a moment of silence for those lost sailing on the Great Lakes. The Midwest seems to be ensuring that nobody will forget them.

Top graphic image: Robert Campbell via State of Michigan/Reprise Records