Coastal Voices Guest Editorial: Brother Jonathan was likely overloaded

The following is material gleaned from an old leather-bound book, edited by Mr. E. W. Wright, “Marine History of the Pacific Northwest,” published in Portland in 1895.

The Brother Jonathan was built in 1852 for the Long Island Sound trade. When she was completed, she was sold to Vanderbilt to run from Nicaragua to San Francisco. The ship was then sold to John T. Wright who ran her to the Northwest from San Francisco. At this time she was named Commodore. In 1858 she escaped sinking with 350 passengers on board. At this point in her history, she was sold to the California Steam Navigation Company.

There were some legal difficulties over trade and transportation franchises between California Steam and Ben Holladay. When those problems were resolved, the ship was refitted to the tune of several thousand dollars and she was re-named Brother Jonathan. Captain A. M. Burns supervised the refitting and repairs. It is stated that the refitted ship was a “very fair traveler when not too deeply loaded.”

Capt. Samuel de Wolf tried to stop the substitute shipping agent, who was not identified, from taking on board any more cargo. This substitute looked into the cargo holds and saw that there was space so he continued to load cargo. It is implied in the book that the regular agent, Maj. Samuel Hensley, would have stopped the loading at least until the passengers and their baggage were on board. Capt. de Wolf tried to stop the loading because he thought the ship was grossly overloaded. The substitute agent would not listen and he insisted that the ship be loaded with as much cargo as possible. Because he was acting for California Steam, this agent allegedly told Capt. de Wolf that if he did not take the ship as loaded, he would lose his position and another captain would be found.

When the passengers arrived and boarded, the ship was heavily overloaded. At noon on July 28, “the ship swung out from her moorings and toiled laboriously through the Golden Gate, the people on board little thinking that they were bidding farewell forever ...” On the morning of July 30 the ship passed Crescent City. The north-northwest wind grew to gale force and a strong northwest sea made progress very difficult. At about 1 p.m. the ship was about 16 miles northwest of Crescent City. It had taken seven hours to make 16 miles. Capt. de Wolf ordered the ship “put about” to return to Crescent City. “She had gone about five or six miles when she brought up suddenly with a shock that threw the passengers off their feet.”

The ship was about “eight miles” west of Point St. George upon striking “broken pieces of keel floated up alongside...” There is a statement from Jacob Yates, seaman, “I took the wheel about twelve o’clock. A northwest gale was blowing and we were four miles above Pt. St. George. The sea was running mountain high, and the ship was not making any headway. The Captain thought it best to turn back to Crescent City and wait until the storm eased. He ordered the helm hard aport. I obeyed, and it steadied her. I kept due east. This was about 12:45. When we made Seal Rock, the Captain said, ‘Southeast by south.’ It was clear where we were, but foggy and smokey inshore. We ran until 1:50, when we struck with great force, knocking the passengers down and starting the deck planks. The Captain stopped and backed her, but he could not move the vessel an inch. She rolled about five minutes, then gave a tremendous thump, and part of the keel came up alongside.” (Putting the helm “aport” meant that the tiller controlled by the wheel was put to port, which actually turned the ship to the right.)

Yates goes on with his statement that the ship worked a little and then the foremast went through the bottom until the yard rested on the deck. Capt. de Wolf ordered “everyone to look to his own safety.” He added that he would do his best for all. Confusion reigned. The ship swung around the rock upon which she was impaled. The ship was poorly equipped with life saving gear and she did not have enough life boats for all the people on board. The first boat that was launched was so overloaded that it capsized and all on board drowned. Only one boat made it safely to shore. Jacob Yates, quoted above, was one of the seamen in that boat. The book cited above contains a roster of all the crew and passengers that were on the Brother Jonathan at the time she was wrecked.

There is also a question about how much “treasure” was in the ship when she sank. During the Civil War the U.S. Government had issued $450 million in bank notes (paper money). By 1865, $400 million was still in circulation. Bond holders and other lenders demanded that they be repaid in gold. The Union soldiers as they were discharged were most commonly paid in paper “greenbacks.” It is likely that any payroll for enlisted men in Northwest posts would have been paid with this money. Contractors and other civilians to whom government money was owed demanded payment in gold.

Capt. de Wolf and his chief engineer, Elijah Mott, were both experienced men who had been working for California Steam Navigation Co. for several years before the wreck. Both had clean records and ships they had served in had not been involved in accidents.

Robert Lynch is a Smith River resident and a longtime student of Pacific Coast maritime history. He holds a master’s degree in history from Stanford University.