The Pere Marquette 18 was a car ferry that doubled as an excursion boat in the summer
on Lake Michigan. It was claimed to be the world’s largest pleasure boat and safest
ship afloat. Yet, on September 9, 1910, the Pere Marquette 18 sank suddenly to the bottom
of Lake Michigan taking 29 lives. What exactly happened to cause this terrible disaster?
Let’s look at the events leading up to this moment.
The Pere Marquette 18 was built in Cleveland, Ohio by the American Shipbuilding Company
in 1902 at a cost of $400,000. Her length overall was 350 feet, a 56 feet beam, and
a depth of 19 feet. She was the largest of four ships in her class designed by Robert
Logan for the Pere Marquette Railway. Pere Marquette 18 was the flagship of their world-class
car ferry fleet employed in cross lake service on Lake Michigan. During the ship’s launch
on August 16, 1902, she was christened by Logan’s daughter Beatrice.
The Pere Marquette 18 was equipped with two triple expansion steam engines fed by six
boilers each producing 3,000 horsepower. She could carry 30 railcars at a steady cruising
speed of about 14 knotts, making her at the time one of the most powerful vessels on the
Great Lakes. One newspaper account even called her the finest car ferry on the lakes due
to her vast passenger accommodations. She had 50 staterooms, and berths providing sleeping
arrangements for 250 people.
Because most of the Pere Marquette Railway’s car ferry traffic was during the winter months,
the company would sometimes lease their ships out for passenger excursions. That was the
case when the Pere Marquette 18 was chartered to the Chicago and South Haven Steamship Company
between the months of July and August in 1907. The ship underwent many modifications to accommodate
partygoers. A gangway entrance was cut out on both sides of her hull located midship.
Two removable stairways were built from the upper deck leading to the entrance of the
car deck. The railroad tracks inside her car deck were planked over so it could become
a dance floor, place for games, slot machines, and palm gardens. There was also an orchestra
and vaudevilles.
The Pere Marquette 18 was branded as the “world’s greatest excursion steamer.” She could accommodate
5,000 people during these daily pleasure trips five days a week between Chicago and Waukegan,
Illinois. They also offered evening “moonlight” trips, afternoon trips on Saturdays, and on
Sundays trips to South Haven, Michigan. These trips were an instant success that just on
the fourth of July in 1907 she carried 4,862 passengers.
In July and August from 1908 through 1910, the Pere Marquette 18 was chartered again
for pleasure trips to the Chicago Navigation Company. Because the 1910 season was not successful
and unprofitable the company decided not to renew their charter for the next year. After
being stripped of her excursion fittings, Pere Marquette 18 returned to Ludington, Michigan
on September 6th. She had to be refitted and federally inspected before going back into
car ferry service. On September 8th she passed with flying colors and was found to be in
first class condition in every respect.
That same day the Pere Marquette 18 was immediately pressed into car ferry service. She took on
a load of 29 railroad cars at Ludington carrying general merchandise and coal. Her trip to
Milwaukee was 100 miles and would take about 8 hours to complete. Captain of the Pere Marquette
18 since the ship first entered service in 1902 was 55-year-old Peter Kilty. He began
his extensive career on the Great Lakes in the fishing industry until moving on to passenger
steamers and car ferries in 1896. Not only did he have the honor of being master of the
first car ferry employed on Lake Michigan, but he also served as master on the Pere Marquette
15, the first ever car ferry constructed entirely with a steel hull.
Including Captain Kilty, there were 62 people onboard the Pere Marquette 18. 55 were a part
of the crew, but 16 of those were not regularly a part of it. They were still working on converting
the ship back into a car ferry. There were seven passengers on board, Seymour B. Cochrane,
general manager of the Chicago Navigation Company and four of his employees. The remaining
two passengers were stowaways.
The weather at the time of their departure at 11:40 p.m. consisted of a moderate stiff
breeze blowing north. It wasn’t a full-blown storm, but it produced rough waves making
the ship roll. At 3 a.m. the Pere Marquette 18 was nearly halfway to Milwaukee when an
oiler noticed something alarming as he was heading back aft to oil the bearings for the
main propeller shaft. These were in a compartment 7 feet below the crew's sleeping quarters
known as the “flicker.” The entire compartment was flooded with water and was almost up to
the floor of the flicker. He raced back to the engine room and reported his discovery
to chief engineer Earl Ross Leedham, who in turn relayed this information to the officer
on watch, first mate Joseph Brezinski.
Leedham told Brezinski there was a problem aft, the pumps were turned on and water was
gaining on them. But signs of a problem appeared even before Leedham went up to the pilot house.
Wheelsman Simon Burke had been having a hard time steering the ship. Brezinski went back
aft to investigate himself and found a broken deadlight, which are strong shutters fitted
over portholes in bad weather. He came back to the pilot house and remarked to Burke that
it was only a broken deadlight on the starboard side, and the water didn’t amount to much.
Captain Kilty who was off duty sleeping in his cabin was awoken to take charge of the
ship. Kilty, Brezinski, and another crew member went down to the flicker to plug the leak.
While they were doing this, the stern had sunk so low into the water that the heavy
waves were bashing against the other lower portholes. Three deadlights on the port side
suddenly gave way, admitting large quantities of water into the flicker driving everyone
out. Soon the entire flicker and the whole afterpart of her hull were filled with water.
At 3:30 a.m. Captain Kilty ordered a reduction in speed, and a course change to the south
to keep the ship before the wind. Kilty then ordered the entire crew be roused so they
could dump railroad cars to offset the added weight of the water in the hull. First mate
Joe Brezinski was put in charge of a party of men dumping railroad cars from the car
deck. Coal passer Thomas Shields, who was a part of this group, told newspaper reporters,
“We had a hell of a time getting them off, because they would stick and hang over.”
Herman Memrow, another coal passer helping said, “Joe worked like a tiger handling
the men and jacks and blocking like a man with the strength of a giant.” After 13
cars were jettisoned the ship’s buoyancy seemed to have stabilized by 4:00 a.m.
Captain Kilty made one last course change due west as he believed there was time to
beach the ship on shore. Reportedly the crew in celebration of their narrow escape went
to the galley to eat sandwiches and drink coffee. However, their celebration was short-lived
as the Pere Marquette 18 began slowly sinking again by the stern.
Seymour Cochrane had been awakened from the sound of the crew dumping the rail cars. He
came up on deck a little after 4 a.m. and saw the Pere Marquette 18’s flags were flying
at half-mast signaling the ship was in trouble.
Cochrane observed no panic or danger onboard as Captain Kilty gave orders for everyone
to put on life preservers and to remove the three port side lifeboats to prepare them
for launch. The decision to launch these boats was made because they were on the lee side
of the wind and were then moored so they cleared the side. A few deckhands were put in to keep
the lifeboats from banging alongside the ship as they waited for the signal to load and
launch them.
Stephen Sczepanek, purser and wireless operator sent the first of many distress messages at
5:20 a.m. “CQD-18 sinking. For God’s sake, help us!” The Pere Marquette 18’s sister
ship, Pere Marquette 17, picked up this distress message. She had left Milwaukee about an hour
after the Pere Marquette 18 left Ludington. R.G. Hill, the purser, and wireless operator
of the 17 informed Captain Joseph Russell that the 18 was sinking and needed immediate
assistance. Captain Russell set a course and made all possible speed towards the 18.
At about 6:30 a.m. the Pere Marquette 17 was spotted off in the horizon gaining on the
18. Captain Kilty came down to the boat deck and stood by Seymour Cochrane looking at the
17. Kilty, turning on his heel remarked, “I don’t think we can make it,” as he walked
away from Cochrane. Captain Kilty had one last consultation with Chief Engineer Leedham
shortly before the ship sank. Leedham went back down below deck and closed the hatchway
on his way to his post in the engine room. He would not survive this disaster.
Around 7:15 a.m. the Pere Marquette 17 came up to the 18’s starboard side, which was
exposed to the wind. Second mate Walter Brown shouted to the 17, “For God’s sake, come
alongside; what are you doing?” He wanted the 17 to be on the 18’s port side, so it
was out of the wind. They were planning to transfer the rest of the crew and passengers
to the 17, instead of using the remaining three lifeboats on the 18’s starboard side.
Very shortly after the 17 maneuvered back around the 18’s stern towards its port side,
the 18 began listing heavily to starboard. It’s open car deck began flooding and her
bow raised out of the water as she sank rapidly at 7:30 a.m. R.G. Hill on the 17 sent a wireless
message out at this moment reading, “No. 18 is going down. Help.” Stephen Sczepanek
on the 18 was still at his post tapping away on the telegraph key as water consumed the
ship. His last message was “For God’s sake come-we’re sinking off Sheboygan!”
Sczepanek was the first wireless operator to be killed in active duty on the Great Lakes.
Wheelsman Simon Burke also stood at his post waiting for an order to abandon ship from
the captain, which never came. When he realized the ship was foundering, he ran out of the
bridge wearing a life preserver second mate Water Brown had given him and dropped to the
main deck. Burke plunged overboard as the Pere Marquette 18 slipped below the water.
Survivors from the Pere Marquette 18 and the 17’s crew describe seeing some sort of explosion
as the water closed over the bow, sending an enormous column of water about 100 feet
into the air. It’s possible this explosion was due to the compression of air escaping
from the ship. The explosion of water ripped off the roof of the ship’s wooden cabins
littering fragments in the water.
It’s not exactly clear how many lifeboats, if any, were ever launched from the 18. A
Chicago Examiner newspaper article claims one was launched with 12 people. Many of the
crew members, and few passengers, including Seymour Cochrane jumped or were thrown overboard
into a whirlpool where they were spun around and sucked under. “I came up after a few
moments, seized a piece of wreckage, brushed the water from my eyes and saw Simon Burke
swimming near me. I pushed a bit of paneling toward him, and he grasped it and we swam
together,” said Cochrane.
At 7:35 a.m. R.G. Hill transmitted; No. 18 gone. A party of sailors on the Pere Marquette
17 got in lifeboats and were lowered to rescue survivors. In the process two of their crew
members were killed. In the aftermath of the Pere Marquette 18’s sinking, 29 people died
and 33 survived. None of the Pere Marquette 18’s officers were among those saved. Captain
Kilty’s body was later found floating in the water. He was the only one not wearing
a life preserver. Seymour Cochrane was the only passenger who made it out alive.
A few hours later, the Pere Marquette 20, and a tugboat from the Sheboygan lifesaving
crew joined to help pick up survivors and the dead. Many of the survivors and those
from the rescue party were perplexed at the scene and wondered how such a thing could
have happened. “Kilty was one of the best-known men on the lake and one of the safest captains,”
said Captain Crawford of the Pere Marquette 20.
On September 12, 1910, local inspectors from the United States Steamboat Inspection Service
probed an investigation on the foundering of the Pere Marquette 18. The fact that none
of the ship’s officers survived made their investigation difficult. They were confident
that the initial broken deadlight found could have never admitted enough water to fill the
after compartment, and that the pumps would have more than taken care of this leak.
An exact cause on how that much water initially made it into the ship was never determined.
The inspectors considered two possible theories in their official report. That a seacock was
left open in the after compartment, or through one of the 18-inch deck scuttles. The sea
might have washed off a scuttle cover and allowed the compartment to fill. Other independent
investigators considered things like water leaking through a propeller shaft.
There was even a rumor that while the Pere Marquette 18 was in service as an excursion
boat, it underwent frequent hard dockings by the charter crew. It’s possible these
hard dockings had loosened some hull plates above the waterline, and because the Pere
Marquette 18 sat lower in the water when loaded with railcars that these seams started leaking.
Companies operating these passenger boats did not have the same rigorous maintenance
practices as railroad’s car ferries. Thus, repairs oftentimes went unaddressed immediately.
The inspectors were confident that the three deadlights breaking on the port side undoubtedly
put the finishing touch to the Pere Marquette 18. These deadlights were located about 20
inches above the waterline when loaded with railroad cars. The cause of the stern sinking
rapidly was determined to be either the bulkhead between the flicker and engine room giving
way, or the remaining rail cars breaking loose and rushing out of the open car deck.
They closed their report by regretfully censuring Captain Kilty. “It is our opinion that the
master of the Pere Marquette 18 displayed very poor judgment in holding the crew aboard
the boat as long as he did. As much as two hours before the vessel sank, we feel that
his knowledge and ability as a seaman must have told him that his ship was in a very
precarious condition and dangerous to be aboard. We think that his efforts were directed more
toward saving the ship than to the saving of lives aboard his boat.”
Directly because of the Pere Marquette 18’s foundering, railroad companies who operated
car ferries began installing tightly fitted hoods over their open sterns. A historical
marker remembering the disaster was erected at Ludington, Michigan in 1977. Stephen Sczepanek’s
name is also memorialized on a wireless operators lost at sea monument in New York City. His
name sits below Jack Phillips, the wireless operator on the RMS Titanic.
Nearly 110 years after the Pere Marquette 18’s sinking, on July 23, 2020, two shipwreck
hunters finally located her wreck. It lies in about 500 feet of water roughly 25 miles
off Sheboygan, Wisconsin. The stern is buried in the mud on the lake’s bottom and its
bow sticks upright at about a 30-to-40-degree angle. What exactly happened that morning
will still probably never be known.