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
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There are good descriptions in this post of the massive size of these freighters, and it’s worth going to see them in person. It’s hard to wrap your mind around the scale of them otherwise, and the force it took to sink the Edmund Fitzgerald.
The Soo Locks which help get freighters between Lake Superior and Lake Huron are amazing if you’re interested in civil engineering and if the timing is right you’ll see a freighter squeezing through. There are other great opportunities in Great Lakes cities to see them too.
https://maps.app.goo.gl/xhZMn9rtUZe4GVJE6
Duluth Canal Park is my go to spot because you can get so very close.
I was 13 when this happened, the Gordon Lightfoot song became pretty popular. Lake Superior is COLD, even if someone survived with a life vest, hypothermia would have gotten them before rescue. My worse boat trip was from Copper Harbor to Isle Royal, even though the waves were small and a full dosage of Dramamine, still couldn’t wait to get off that boat plus dreaded the return trip.
What mystery? I like a good ghost or creepy story as does any Halloween enthusiast, but be realistic. Even though it’s a ‘lake’ really big waves occur there, and the EF wasn’t the first big ship to sink. It didn’t help being loaded down and sitting lower in the water. Constructive interference of waves (rogue waves) can occur anywhere. Look at Lake Tahoe a few years back. Seven foot waves in a small mountain lake came out of nowhere, swamping boats and killed a few people.
There’s been more ships lost on the Great Lakes than most realize. A LOT of them and because of the violent weather. The best theory I’ve read was that the hatch covers were either not totally secured or got jolted loose during the storm and eventually enough water came in to cause her to sink. This happened more recently with the SS El farro in 2015 when water got in through rusted out hatches and vents.
That too, non-secured hatches don’t help when you’re taking waves over the ship.
Brick Immortar’s video on the El Faro is excellent and wonderfully anger-inducing.
“It was rammed by the Cat Stevens.”
– Andrea Doria survivor
I love Edmund Fitzgerald’s voice
The history of shipping on the Lakes is absolutely fascinating, bearing both similarities and marked differences from maritime shipping. I personally have always been particularly taken by the brief fad of the whalebacks, cargo vessels with rounded decks to better shed water in foul weather. They only made a few dozen of them, and only one still exists as a museum ship in Wisconsin.
It is a really interesting museum to visit.
Really interesting to see the difference between the “Lakers” and the “Salties” when on Superior–clearly different designs! The lakers are actually significantly bigger than the ocean going ships simply because they don’t need to make it through certain canals and locks.
Given the continued interest in this ship, it’s always surprised me that there hasn’t been any effort to go back to the wreck and make a more modern and systematic effort to determine what actually happened. Yes, I know it’s a protected memorial and I’m not talking about going down and stealing artifacts, but just a more detailed look at what remains. Obviously permission from the families would be needed but I’d imagine some, although admittedly probably not all, would like to know what actually happened on that day.
There have been efforts, but there is both legal and familial resistance keeping this from happening.
The ship sits in Canadian waters, so they ultimately have jurisdiction, and their laws protecting shipwrecks are very strict.
In 1994 an expedition recorded footage which contained a body, which was incredibly distressing for the families, which led to further prohibitions. Remains in Superior take decades and decades to decay, so this is still a concern.
With the passage of time, maybe another 20-30 years there may be less resistance for an expedition to attempt to find a conclusive answer.
I see. I was aware of the 1994 expedition and the footage of the body but didn’t realize this prompted further restrictions. That explains the 30 year gap since the last effort. Thanks for clarifying.
The Kamloops wreck off of Isle Royale which sank in 1927 still has human remains – as I understand there is a man that is in the engine room still that divers encounter.
Wonderful article Mercedes! I love your historical pieces!
As a Michigander born the same year the Fitz went down, I’ve always held this tragedy close to my heart.
Last year, on the 50th anniversary of the sinking, I watched a great video by Oceanliner Designs that proposes a newer theory based on accident investigations of other ships since then. It’s very well done:
https://youtu.be/AXR2h_ZjOgU?si=hqcE1ohgAmsrlxOK
The belief is that with the ship already riding very low in the water, and the increasing height of the oncoming waves, that it essentially “sank” by driving into an oncoming wave and down into the lake. Once underwater, there was explosive decompression as the air trapped in the hull tried to escape all at once which basically blew the center out of the ship and it sank immediately. This accounts for the reason the stern section is upside down and at an angle, that the taconite is spread all over the bottom of the lake, and that there is a huge section of the middle of the ship that is basically missing. Also explains why there was no warning or any way to escape. It was almost instantaneous.
There could have been damage from hitting the shoal as it road through the trough of a wave, but I really doubt that the captain and crew had been negligent with hatch covers. This newer theory makes sense and aligns with the evidence.
I was off to college when this happened. It is a haunting song. In the early 90s, my career took me from CA to Cleveland. Some days, the atmospheric effluents from the still operational then steel mills were incredibly noxious. Lake Superior to Cleveland on Lake Erie is a pretty far trip. I’m surprised there wasn’t a more economically feasible mill nearby.
Driving E on I-90 entering Cleveland, you could see the taconite being off-loaded from the ships with Hulett ore unloaders.
Hulett Ore Unloaders
A very plausible explanation.
When I was a little kid, I was absolutely obsessed with learning everything i could about this in the way only a little kid can be. Since it was the 80s, and well before the internet existed, relatives would mail me info or old news articles they found. I had a bulletin board in my room. So, once I came across all those old articles in a box in my 30s, having access to the internet, I learned more about just how little was really known. It really was a tragedy…. and I didn’t understand that fully until I was older.
I was exactly the same! I grew up in Tasmania, (yes, it’s a real place), and my Uncle was an Officer on cargo ships all over the World. There were a couple of notable sinkings in Tasmania in the mid 70’s, and these combined with the Edmund Fitzgerald convinced me he was in THE most dangerous occupation.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MV_Blythe_Star
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SS_Lake_Illawarra
dude. i love the tasmanian devil !!
“Blah Blah Blah Yakety Schmackity!”
You devil, you! I’ve been to Australia once. If I get down there again, I will make a point of spending some time in Tassie.
Some great driving roads! I plan to do Tail of the Dragon in May to compare.
Please just remember we drive on the other side of the road here! My times driving in Australia and Ireland, the fact that I was sitting opposite of where I usually do in the US gave my brain enough of a clue to be super vigilant. My wife wanted to drive in Ireland, and she could have killed me if I hadn’t yelled STOP! when she entered a roundabout without looking right first.
I would be really worried about myself on a motorcycle without a steering wheel on the right to tell me, hey, mate, it’s different here.
But, enjoy your run(s) on the Tail. Yes… we have lots of boring slabs of interstate here, but we have some really fun roads too. Highway 1 in N California and through much of Oregon is lovely. And twisty. And OMG, some of the side roads I used to take 40 years ago! Four-wheel drift corners! I don’t drive like that anymore.
I encountered twisty curves in the Arkansas mountains so tight they restrict trailers.
Sheer drops near roads exist too.
And I drove long way there to avoid the more dangerous roads.
When I got close to the really steep grades, the warning was deep grooves cut into the pavement, besides signage.
Engineering standards are far more conservative for most state roads, but Arkansas is more similar to western states.
Yes. Roads over the ridges are often the wildest.
Yeah, driven on the ‘wrong’ side of the road plenty – including on 2 wheels. First time was very stressful though – downtown San Fran…
I’m not a little kid any more and I still go down some very deep rabbit holes on things like this. Curiosity may kill the cat, but it stretches your mind.
S’got nothing to do with cars or anything… but loved all of it! 🙂
The Edmund Fitzgerald’s cargo was headed for Detroit and was a form of steel used in auto and parts production, so there is an oblique connection to cars.
Incipient cars
It’s transportation, just like planes, trains and automobiles (RIP John Candy), so it absolutely fits on The Autopian.
Now I’m going to have a Gordon Lightfoot ear worm!
Might as well give everyone one! Here’s a pretty recent performance… 2019!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=71q5RmYS0ZM&list=RD71q5RmYS0ZM&start_radio=1
According to Jim Harbaugh… it’s a real “toe-tapper.”
A great song that, while about a specific event, I think really captures the tragedy of any proud, hard working people taken out doing dangerous, underappreciated jobs, the unsung heroes behind the logistics and infrastructure that civilization as we regard it runs on.
The Great Lakes look ocean-like to me, but not quite the same. Smell is different, too, of course. I always assumed the storms were as bad, it didn’t occur to me that the lack of salinity would make them potentially worse.
Wasn’t the last load, they ship until early January. This shorted the stockpiling for winter for the blast furnaces on Zug Island. We couldn’t rail enough pellets from Escanaba that Great Lakes Steel had to buy. We ended shutting down a couple and was scraping the bottom of the ore docks when the first spring boat came. Then had to worry about the turn-around time as not to run out before the next boat came.
It was the Fitz’s last load of the season. She was scheduled to go into lay up early to get work done cheaper before the shipyards got busier.
Rest in Peace to the crew:
Captain Ernest M. McSorley, 63
First Mate John H. McCarthy, 62
Second Mate James A. Pratt, 44
Third Mate Michael E. Armagost, 37
Wheelsman John D. Simmons, 60
Wheelsman Eugene O’Brien, 50
Wheelsman John J. Poviach, 59
Watchman Ransom E. Cundy, 53
Watchman William J. Spengler, 59
Watchman Karl A. Peckol, 55
Chief Engineer George J. Holl, 60
First Assistant Edward E. Bindon, 47
Second Assistant Thomas E. Edwards, 50
Second Assistant Russell G. Haskell, 40
Third Assistant Oliver “Buck” J. Champeau, 41
Oiler Blaine H. Wilhelm, 52
Oiler Ralph G. Walton, 58
Oiler Thomas Bentsen, 23
Wiper Gordon MacLellan, 30
Special Maintenance Man Joseph W. Mazes, 59
AB Maintenance Thomas D. Borgeson, 41
Deck Maintenance Mark A. Thomas, 21
Deck Maintenance Paul M. Riipa, 22
Deck Maintenance Bruce L. Hudson, 22
Steward Robert C. Rafferty, 62
Second Cook Allen G. Kalmon, 43
Porter Frederick J. Beetcher, 56
Porter Nolan F. Church, 55
Cadet David E. Weiss, 22
Thank you so much for this article! Also, the replica bell has these 29 names engraved on it. The best made tribute and documentary I have found is on the Big Old Boats YouTube channel…they have a lot of very well made videos about the history of a wide variety of ships and shipwrecks (also lighthouses) They are very well told about the stories and sagas of each one. I consider it the best one & have watched all of them. There’s even one about all the beautiful art on the ships and even the art advertisements that were made in the ocean liner era. Plus, one of the best things is this: “No AI was or will ever be used to make my videos”
I didn’t realize there were so many crew members.
I am following the YT channel of a 24000TEU cargo ship captain. These are the biggest container ships prying the oceans and they only have a couple dozen people onboard, for transoceanic trips.
For reference, one of these displaces a quarter million tonnes full load. Our nuclear carriers displace less than half as much.
I well remember this tragedy. I was a first semester freshman in college just getting used to the routines of university life. Two days prior, we’d all crowded around a small B&W tv in the lounge to watch the fourth episode of a new comedy show, Saturday Night Live or as it was known then, NBC’s Saturday Night. Candice Bergen hosted (the first female host) that night. Chevy Chase debuted his stumbling Gerald Ford parody. John Belushi appeared as a bee for the first time. This was also the first time the Landshark appeared on the show and Andy Kaufman made his first appearance, too. And Chevy Chase coined his Weekend Update intro, “Good evening, I’m Chevy Chase and you’re not.” After dinner on Monday, everyone was riffing on Landshark, knocking on girls’ dorm room doors (coed dorm) and announcing “Candy-gram.” They were so impressed. It all devolved as usual to late night whole wheat pizza and beers and TV. The late news broadcasts were the first time we heard mention of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Details were sketchy and not much better in the days to come. By the following summer, Gordon Lightfoot had immortalized the wreck in song. But that first night, the story was nearly buried by news of Angola’s upcoming independence, Italy and Yugoslavia solving a border dispute and the UN General Assembly passing a resolution declaring Zionism as racism. The more things change …
Really good article. Being from Michigan, I’ve always held a mix of pride and reverence for the lakes. Standing on the beach of one sometimes feels more like you’re next to an ocean than a lake. Even the lake effect snow coming inland is no joke, I can’t imagine what it’s like out on the water during one of those storms. The Edmund Fitzgerald has always fascinated me, from it’s impressive service history to the fact that there hasn’t been a conclusive cause of sinking
I’m about a mile from Lake Michigan on the Wisconsin side. Take it for granted sometimes, try to get a look at it once a month or so. It’s definitely affects the climate, also. Lake effect snow, warmer temps in winter, a little cooled in summer.
Growing up a couple miles from Lake Ontario, I didn’t really appreciate what it would be like for someone who wasn’t from the area to see the Great Lakes for the first time. To visit a lake that you couldn’t see the other side of seemed normal to us.
Great read, thank you for putting this together!! This song was the first record I bought…a 45 that cost $0.99. Yep, I’m old. Still love the tune.
Four days short of 92 years after the previous Edmond Fitzgerald sank.
Also per Wikipedia, the launching was less than auspicious:
Wow, I had no idea there was a previous one w/ same name. Just recently learned there was actually a ship named John Jacob Astor that is the oldest known shipwreck on Lake Superior! That was very fascinating
“Claim to being the oldest known shipwreck on Lake Superior belongs to the John Jacob Astor lost September 21, 1844 near the dock of old Fort Wilkins. Built at Black River, Ohio in 1835, the Astor was the first commercial vessel on Lake Superior. After stranding, she encountered a fate similar to the Mesquite’s. When she could not be refloated before winter, she broke up in the severe winter weather conditions. Her rigging and portable equipment were salvaged. Today, the remains sit in up to 35 feet of water.”
https://www.michiganpreserves.org/keweenaw-underwater-preserve/John Jacob Astor
Interesting, named for the guy who founded Fort Astoria in Oregon and part of Green Bay, and owned a significant chunk of NYC back in the day.
Astor had a fascinating plan for a global trade route and the founding of Astoria was the start of that plan. It all fell apart when he picked the wrong captain to be in command and the start of the War of 1812.
He was going to have a series of ships countinuously circumnavigating the globe with stops in NYC, Hawaii, Astoria, Alaska, China, India, London, and then back to NYC.
There is a great book on the Astor Expedition by Peter Stark.
I also just this year found about this first wooden ship with the very close name that sank in 1883 in Lake Erie. Never knew about that one after all these years hearing about the metal one that has the song and everything. Crazy!
Good article, and so great to hear this moving song. It affects me each time I hear it.
Last year we were at the Grohmann Museum at M.S.O.E. in Milwaukee around this time of year. They had a good informational display memorializing the 50th anniversary of the wreck. There was a hand built scale model there so you could see the length compared to the width like mentioned in this article.
It was definitely something worth seeing. We’ve also been to the museum at Whitefish Point in Paradise, but that was close to 20 years ago.
Great article, Mercedes.
Great article! One of the Fitzgerald’s bashed-in lifeboats is in the museum ship Valley Camp at Sault St. Marie. The Anderson herself recently entered layup and may not sail again.
I’m a Great Lakes shipping buff. You should cover some of the historic ships still earning their living: Badger (1952, a coal powered ferry you can actually sail across Nichigan on!), the Alpena (1942), the Lee Tregurtha (1942; converted from a WW2 tanker that was in Tokyo Bay for rhe surrender of Japan), or the Wilfred Sykes (1949). Amazingly, the oldest working hull on the lakes is the Medusa Challenger, built as the freighter William Snyder in 1907, which steamed under her own power for 105 years before being converted to a barge. She’s still earning her keep today!
An old but wonderful book is “Great Lakes Shipwrecks & Survivals,” by William Ratigan. Magnificent storyteller and careful historian. He reissued the book after the Fitzgerald wreck with a whole new section on that event. I haven’t read anything newer that adds much to what Ratigan reported in the late 1970s.
It is amazing how well the lack of salt preserves steel, if only state highway authorities would learn that
I’ve taken the SS Badger round trip and would do it again.
It’s coal powered and a huge polluter, grandfathered in. The fast ferry from Milwaukee is way better. Albeit more pricey
Having ridden both, I’ll take the classic experience of the Badger. I like the smell of coal smoke and the relaxed experience of the crossing. I’ve even rented a stateroom to snooze on the night crossing.
They did make a significant improvement by installing an ash capture system a few years back. The new owners, Interlake, have a good track record for respecting, maintaining, and upgrading vintage ships – and turning a profit.
I didn’t know that so thanks for the info. Still coal is pretty prehistoric
I liked that it was coal-powered, but the wife and I love vintage stuff.
I think it’s cool that they fire up the boiler(s) in the spring and keep them fired up through the season until shutting them down in the fall.
Seconded on recommend visiting the Valley Camp if you are in the Soo. You can even go up to the pilot house, it’s pretty neat. And of course they have a great section on the Fitz with the lifeboat.
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.
Then there’s Fortescue’s “infinity train” that gets infinite (or if you’re a math stickler undefined) ton-miles per gallon. Which is a big advantage of trains that carry cargo downhill.
“loaded with 26,116 tons of taconite pellets”
Mmm…. taco nite…..
Forget battery storage. The emission of crew members, if aimed correctly, can propel the train back uphill.
Maybe. But think of the GHGs!
Apparently the families of some of the crew were unhappy with the original lyrics– implying the “main hatchway gave way”, due to an implicit failure of crew performance.
If the story is correct, Mr Lightfoot was so horrified to have gotten this wrong (his lyrical treatment otherwise being fairly accurate to the known facts) that he later modified the line.
It’s a cool story, if perhaps apochrypal.
He also altered “musty old hall” to “rustic old hall” when a parishioner at the mariners’ church complained to him that it wasn’t actually musty inside. But all the updated lyrics were never “official”, he sang them at live shows, but they were never recorded or published
Lately, I’ve been revealing that I was mortified (and saddened) to read of Lightfoot’s death via the obits— only because he’d fallen into my mental bucket of “oh, didn’t he die 25 years ago?”. I had thought he was long gone.
Much like Band on the Run and Hotel California, “Edmund Fitzgerald” was one of those songs that commanded a ton of air time over the years. I’m not sure if will be Elevator Music in the TurboLifts 200 years from now, like Let It Be, but it sure captured the moment in a musical bit of amber.
He’s one of the people that I always wanted to go see “someday” but never made a point of it when I had the chance.
Another one I highly recommend is the National Museum of the Great Lakes in Toledo, I was able to stop there a few years ago when it was along the Power Tour route – they’ve got SS Col. James M. Schoonmaker, a 12,000 ton bulk freighter built in 1911, preserved as a museum ship. The interior of the hull is just cavernous, and the cabins are shockingly ornate and luxurious for that sort of shipz since company executives would often travel on it for leisure trips, much like the VIP rooms on Edmund Fitzgerald. You can see the marble shower Andrew Carnegie himself used to wash his naughty bits, if that’s your kink
I too recommend the NMGL in Toledo. Interestingly enough, the Arthur Anderson has been laid up in Toledo since 2025 and Capt. McSorley was born in nearby Ottawa Hills, OH.
Also worth visiting is the Dossin Great Lakes Museum on Belle Isle in Detroit. It’s not far upriver from the historic Mariner’s Church which is mentioned in Lightfoot’s song as the place that rang its bell for each sailor who was lost. And Belle Isle is a good place to watch freighters go by too.
Honestly, I’d like to do a long road trip around the Great Lakes someday, there’s such a high concentration of interesting things to check out
A college buddy and I did one many years ago… The UP of Michigan is full of interesting sights and parks, many of which most of the country is clueless about.
The north shore of Lake superior in Ontario has spectacular scenery.