We awoke to a large and long ocean swell,
Now all that was needed was the Northwest wind to turn.
All into a floating hell.
Captain Ned said we should head back in,
Give it a few days and then we’ll try it again.
When we reached the Whistler, we discovered we were not alone, there was a Coast Guard 44 and six more all circling and listening to the horrible groan.
The Motor Lifeboat went first, made it across.
She then turned and faced the bar, her crew prepared for a loss, then one by one the little fleet slipped on in.
Every Captain knows when crossing the bar, a place where there is no turning back.
You line up on the ranges, the adrenaline starts to flow, and your only thought is to
hold a strait tack.
The six boats before us caught the right sets,
But like the eye of a hurricane, it wasn’t meant to last,
The waves stacking up behind us towered over our mast.
The bow dropped and the stern began to rise,
Nothing to do but grab on for the ride of our lives!
First, she tried to roll, then she tried to pitchpole,
At one point I could almost see straight down into the hole!
Her heavy wood-spoked wheel could no longer be held tight,
She spun wildly to the left and back to the right.
When we finally hit bottom,
There was a tremendous roar,
The fifty-year-old boat couldn’t handle much more.
Water shot into the wheelhouse, seeped through
every crack and I’m sure the deck was buried,
If I’d been able to look back.
Then in a defiant tribute to the long-gone boat-wrights, who built her
“Hell for Stout” in 1923, she twisted and turned,
And finally, broke free of the wave that held her.
She launched out of the foam and was pointed straight,
For home, and nothing was going to stop her.
The 44 came along-side and the coxswain said we’ve never seen anything like that,
almost impossible to survive.
You men are lucky to be alive.
As we continued in, I turned back with a grin and thought to my twenty-one-year-old self.
Nice swing, and that’s a miss Satan,
The one you just took at me,
But I made no deals with you, and I draw
My power from the Sea!
About the Author: My background is in commercial fishing, and I spent over twenty-five years working off the Oregon and Washington coast and in the Gulf of Alaska and the Bering Sea where I sailed with a 1600tn Oceans masters license. I learned a lot about heavy weather and unfortunately the loss of vessels. The pattern always seemed to be the same, a series of events that led to the sinking, followed by mitigating the loss. It’s not good or bad, it’s just how the industry works! So, the loss of the Francis H. Leggett really hit me and left me asking myself just how this can be Oregon’s Worst Maritime disaster and yet a forgotten story.
I currently live in Astoria Oregon, and during the last five years I have spent a lot of hours researching the incredible history of the Pacific Ocean and lower Columbia River. I enjoy volunteering at the Columbia River Maritime Museum where I spend most of my time on the Lightship Columbia. Prior to that I spent three years volunteering for the Astoria Fire Dept. I’m also a member of Sons of the American Revolution where I honor the memory of over thirty of my grandfathers who fought in the American Revolutionary War. To say I enjoy history would be an understatement.
You can contact me at captaindan@samandi.net or visit https://www.samandi.net/
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