Читать книгу The Wexford - Paul Carroll - Страница 11

FOREWORD

My first contact with Paul Carroll was about a decade ago, when the Port of Goderich Marine Heritage Committee was getting ready to conduct side-scan work in search of that elusive shipwreck that we all wanted so badly to find — the Wexford. After that initial project, I was a guest presenter, sharing my shipwreck hunting tales at the local Marine Heritage Festivals, where Paul was one of the chief planners. My wife, Mickey, and I enjoyed a number of weekends over a period of several years as the guests of Paul and his wife, Mary, at their log house, nestled in a woodland setting along Black’s Point Road — ironically, the site where so many mariners believed the Wexford rested, well hidden, offshore.

Working closely with Jan Hawley and Bob Carey, in whose name the official survey licence was held, Paul and others could hardly contain their excitement about the possibility of confirming the long-held rumours that the Wexford was most surely lurking nearby. When she was truly found at last, she could tell her story, and would become the “anchor,” so to speak, of a new diving industry in the Goderich area. She would also become the main point of attraction for divers, joining a number of other smaller, less significant wreck sites along the Lake Huron shoreline in that area, such as the so-called “Labour Day Wreck,” just off the river mouth, which had appeared and disappeared for years but had never been definitively documented as to its age or even the name of the vessel. There was also the “boneyard” — the last resting place of derelict vessels towed out from Goderich Harbour in the early years, and often burned and sunk in the graveyard for old ships just at the south edge of the old waterfront town.

Paul seemed to be one of the key organizers with the group and was a keen historian, anxious to conduct the land-based research component of the wreck study, should she be found. A team of side-scan helpers was established, and a tug boat, the Daniel Mac, suitable for conducting the work at sea, was acquired, courtesy of the local marina operator, Dick Peever. And the work began.

Imagine our surprise, and our disappointment, when the target of our quest was actually discovered just a few miles south from our own survey area, and by a fisherman using a simple finder, at essentially the same time as we laboriously “mowed the lawn” in repetitive swaths along the shore in 50- to 90-foot depths with my sophisticated Klein scanner. Our efforts, not to be lessened or minified, moved south the next day, and we began the documentation survey while our divers conducted underwater confirmation dives to verify that what was found was, in fact, the elusive shipwreck that had foiled discovery efforts for more than eight decades. It was indeed the Wexford. And although she was not exactly where predicted, she was certainly close by — just far enough out of reach to have maintained her secret hiding place for a very long time.

And so the documentation began, with Paul taking a lead role in pulling the masses of information soon to be acquired together in some cohesive form. His quest to produce a book has resulted in this current endeavour. I understand that his intense two-year period of research was interrupted by several other publishing projects, which for some reason took priority, and the big Wexford project seemed to take a back seat for a while. If you can find a rare copy of the 2001 Huron Historical Notes, for example, you will be well served by reading his account of the intriguing maritime history along the Huron shores.

Anyway, here it is — the documentation of the Wexford, finally completed. This book will be a valuable addition to the collection of works already written about the Great Storm of 1913 and its casualties. Unlike most of the other material, this volume largely provides a single focus. It is primarily about one ship, and addresses every aspect — from its early history to the current status of the recently discovered wreck and the failed efforts to protect her fragile artifacts. Paul has tried to address the challenges that follow the discovery of a major shipwreck such as this. The resultant publicity, which in this case set off a veritable contagion of activity at the dive site, was continent-wide. There was no time to complete the underwater survey before eager, but not yet welcomed, visitors began to arrive and contaminate the site — and also, indeed, to relieve the wreck of some of her undocumented treasures. What is wrong? What is right? My own experience verifies that it is better to maintain strict confidence about such discoveries until all the documentation has been completed.

Shipwreck hunting is the first phase of a large effort to preserve and to celebrate our underwater heritage. My own experience as a shipwreck hunter goes back to the 1960s and 70s, when my own passion for marine history and my love for scuba diving led me to conduct more formal searches to discover what lay beneath these Great Lakes waters. I have been riding the technology curve since the late 70s — over 30 years of discovery and exploration of our “Inland Seas.” In the early 1970s there was no Loran C (an early position-finding system based on the cross-referencing of land-based radio direction signals) or Global Positioning System (GPS) to mark a shipwreck discovery or to record areas searched on the Great Lakes. However, technology was about to have a major impact on divers, historians, and shipwreck hunters. In 1978, I had the fourth Loran C in use on the Great Lakes, the other three having been acquired shortly before: one by Dr. Chuck Feltner, the well-known wreck hunter who pioneered the use of electronic position finding devices; the other two by the Coast Guard, who were evaluating the benefits of the devices on Lake Erie.

A whole new world opened for the diver/shipwreck hunter with the use of this new technology. The presence of GPS equipment has made the job of returning to identical locations even more accurate. For the first time, a shipwreck diver did not have to spend most of each spring relocating known sites, miles from shore, to dive. Divers could return to the site using a set of coordinates previously obtained. A whole new world had opened up to divers, charter boat operators, and anyone with two to three thousand dollars (nowadays, just a hundred dollars or so) to spend on one of these systems.

Over the years, and with the establishment of a research company, I have been involved in the discovery and documentation of well over 90 underwater sites. There was always an interest in our new findings, and groups all over the Great Lakes region, on both sides of the border, were interested in hearing about our discoveries and seeing the results of our work. I hope my role has served to enrich our understanding of the days when the Great Lakes played a more active role in our economy and in the lives of so many people who lived in the hundreds of lakeshore communities along these shores.

It is said that that some 16,000 ships have found a watery grave since La Salle first plied the Great Lakes waters with that other mystery ship, the Griffon. In the grand scheme of things, so little has been done; there is so much more to do. Many of us are fascinated by Great Lakes marine history, and one only needs to discover a virgin, intact wooden sailing vessel to stir the imagination.

I have been fortunate to be married to Mickey, who has willingly accepted and supported my love of the Great Lakes, its history, and the solving of mysteries beneath our “Inland Seas.” It is the greatest of adventures to be able to share the experience with fellow divers who have made the transition to become wreck hunters and underwater explorers. People of modest means but with much dedication to the task at hand have been able to enjoy world-class discovery and underwater exploration, going where no one has gone before. Great Lakes history comes alive, and we have been able to share it with countless others.

Paul Carroll is to be commended for his efforts in documenting this tale of the elusive Wexford. He has answered many questions, clarified a number of uncertainties, pricked a little bit of conscience for how to handle future discoveries, and most certainly sparked an interest for others to pursue further studies and to conduct more research about our marine heritage. Enjoy his book. It will be an intriguing good read.

In closing, I offer you Dr. Clive Cussler’s comments from his NUMA website: “To those of you who seek lost objects of history, I wish you the best of luck. They’re out there, and they’re whispering.”¹

David L. Trotter

Undersea Research Associates

Canton, Michigan