Sinking of the Sophia: ‘For God’s sake hurry, the water is coming into my room,’ final radio dispatch pleads
- Laurie Craig
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read
Updated: 6 hours ago
Steamship’s ability to use lifeboats was limited after striking reef and severe storm kept rescue ships from providing help. Part two of a three-part series.
By Laurie Craig
Juneau Independent
This is the second of a three-part series about the 1918 wreck of the Canadian Steamship Princess Sophia on Vanderbilt Reef. The sinking remains the West Coast’s greatest loss of life in a maritime disaster.
On Oct. 25, 1918, the Alaska Daily Empire on an inside page declared “Passengers Are Still On Princess Boat.” But the front-page headline was dominated by the U.S. president’s World War I demands: “Wilson Suggests That Allies Name Conditions For Armistice.”
The Sophia had struck the reef directly during a blinding snowstorm, so the 245-foot-long ship perched cradled in an upright position. However, the reef’s rocks extended beyond the wedged hull, making conditions difficult to lower lifeboats without damaging them and potentially injuring passengers.
Sinking of the Sophia series
Part One
• 1918 autumn events reveal community resilience leading up to disaster
Part Two
• ‘For God’s sake hurry, the water is coming into my room,’ final radio dispatch pleads
Part Three
• A futile search for survivors and ongoing efforts to remember those who perished
• Princess Sophia victims remembered at sinking anniversary in Evergreen Cemetery
By the afternoon of Friday, Oct. 25, several ships had arrived to rescue the more than 350 passengers and crew aboard the Sophia. They had approached the steamship and stood by ready to help if the storm eased. The rescue vessels encountered the same ravaging winds and waves that held the Sophia captive on the reef.
As night fell in the late October darkness, they were forced to seek shelter behind protective islands. Sentinel Island, with its lighthouse, and nearby Benjamin Island, offered some protection.
The benign tone of waiting out the storm belied the ultimate fate of the Princess Sophia. The gale continued. Waves pounded the ship. Snow obliterated the view.
As the passengers waited for the storm to abate, some wrote letters. Many of these notes survived the final ordeal of their authors, providing firsthand descriptions of life waiting for rescue.
A letter from Auris McQueen dated “10-25-18” tells of one passenger’s impressions. It begins, “Dear Mama.” He describes his difficulties traveling through the northern country and his good fortune at finding passage on the ship in Skagway.
“Now, this ship, the Princess Sophia, is on a rock and when we can get away is a question. It’s storming now, about a 50-mile wind, and we can only see a couple of hundred yards on account of the snow and spray…We had three tugboats here in the afternoon, but the weather was too rough to transfer any passengers…The wind and sea from behind pounded and pushed her until she is now, 30 hours after, on the rock clear back to the middle and we can’t get off…We are getting heat and lights now, and we still have lump sugar and water for drinking…there are six cases of influenza on board.”
A topographical map showing the Lynn Canal location of Vanderbilt Reef (center of image at left; upper portion of image at right). The right image also shows Auke Bay with Favorite Channel islands identified and Saginaw Channel where debris drifted after the ship sank. (U.S. Geological Survey)
Rather than calming, the storm increased. At 4:50 p.m. Friday, Oct. 25, the Princess Sophia spun around on the reef. There was just enough time for an urgent wireless message from the radioman:
“Ship foundering on reef. Come at once.” Rescue ships, hammered by the same stormy seas and winds, prepared to return from their retreat sites to the distressed Sophia.
At 5:20 p.m. a dire radio message came from the Sophia: “For God’s sake hurry, the water is coming into my room.” The remainder of the message was garbled. It was the final dispatch from the Princess Sophia.
The rescuers tried desperately to get through the storm to reach the sinking ship. Not until Saturday morning could they see what had happened.
• Contact Laurie Craig at lauriec@juneauindependent.com.
