The Princess Sophia: The Unknown Titanic of the West Coast

The Princess Sophia: The Unknown Titanic of the West Coast

Rich: [00:00:00] It is October 24th, 1918, 31-year-old Jack Maskell is huddled in his cabin on board the Steamship Princess Sophia. A native of Manchester, England, he had been working as an entertainer in Dawson City, in the northern reaches of the Yukon Territory. He booked passage South on the Princess Sophia, the first leg of a long journey home to marry his fiancee, Ms. Dorothy Burgess.

​But his journey has come to a frightening halt. The vessel has become stranded on a reef during a blinding snow storm. Although he has been reassured by the crew that there is no danger, Maskell understands the perilous nature of the situation and is fearing the worst. He takes out a pen and his stationery and writes a letter to his [00:01:00] fiancée.

My dear own sweetheart,

I am writing this, my dear girl, while the boat is in grave danger. We struck a rock last night, which threw many from their berths. Women rushed out in their night attire. Some were crying, some too weak to move, but the lifeboats were swung out in all readiness, but owing to the storm, it would be madness to launch until there was no hope for the ship.

Surrounding ships were notified by wireless, and in three hours the first steamer came, but we cannot get near owing to the storm raging, and the reef which we are on, there are now seven ships near. When the tide went down, two thirds of the boat was high and dry. We are expecting the lights to go out at any minute.

Also, the fires of the boilers, the boat might go to pieces for the force of the waves are terrible, making awful noises on the side of the boat, which has quite a list to port. No one is allowed to sleep, but believe me, dear Dory, it might have been much worse. We struck the reef in a terrible [00:02:00] snowstorm.

There is a big buoy near marking the danger, but the captain was to port instead of to starboard of the buoy. I made my will this morning leaving everything to you my own true love and I want you to give 100 pounds to my dear mother. 100 pounds to my dear dad, 100 pounds to dear wee Jack and the balance of my estate.

About 300 pounds to you, Dory. Dear, the Eagle Lodge will take care of my remains in danger at sea. Princess Sophia, 24th October, 1918. To whom it may concern, should anything happen to me, notify Eagle Lodge, Dawson. My insurance, finances, and property I leave to my wife, who was to be Ms. Dorothy Burgess, 37 Smart Street long site.

Manchester England. The Princess Sophia, the Unknown Titanic of the West Coast today [00:03:00] on shipwrecks and sea dogs.

Hello and welcome to Shipwrecks and Sea Dogs, tales of Mishaps, misfortune, and misadventure. I'm your host, Rich Napolitano. In October of 1918, the world seemed to be falling apart. World War I in Europe had dragged on for four years and its staggering. Death toll, loomed heavy over the general public news from the war was reported daily.

Each day brought more carnage and grief. Approximately 20 million had been killed as a result of the war. Families of soldiers from all over the world anxiously waited for news, hoping to see their husbands, fathers, or brothers walk through their doors again. In the fall of 1918, came another grim danger, a worldwide influenza epidemic.

The earliest recorded case of the outbreak was in the state of Kansas in the United States earlier that spring. By October, over 10 million had been killed by the highly infectious and [00:04:00] deadly virus. Within a year, over 50 million would be killed by influenza one third of the world's population. The loss of all 353 on board the Princess Safiya on October 25th, 1918 was a mere blip in a world gripped in chaos.

Prospectors had been gradually moving north into the area of the Yukon territory during the 1800s where they encountered the Native First Nations peoples of the area, nomadic, fishermen and hunters. The emergence of Dawson City in 1896 was a direct result of the Klondike Gold Rush of 1896 to 1899.

After Gold was found by a First Nations man named Keish, who was also known as Jim Mason or Skookum Jim. While he is generally credited with the discovery of gold in the region, it was American prospector George Carmack, who registered the original claim at Rabbit Creek, now named Bonanza Creek. Dawson City is at the confluence of the Yukon and [00:05:00] Klondike Rivers, making it a convenient location to the gold fields.

As news of the discovery spread south to what locals call the outside a stampede of prospectors headed north to the Klondike area. An estimated 100,000 attempted the journey, but the inherent difficulties of traveling to the area resulted in only about 30,000 reaching it. Nevertheless, within a year, all of Bonanza Creek had been claimed by prospectors.

With the Gold Rush came, demand for accommodations, saloons, brothels, housing, restaurants and shops, and Dawson City flourished. Reliable transportation routes to the Klondike area were also needed resulting in the formation of the boom town of Skagway and its sister town of Dyea across Lynn Canal. These settlements transformed from scattered tent campgrounds to fully fledged cities within months.

Most of the prospectors took the cheapest and most direct route. This was [00:06:00] considered the poor man's route. Prospectors took ships along the inside passage north between the mainland and the complex web of Alaskan islands along the coast. Prospectors disembarked from ships at these ports and trekked the difficult overland passages of Chilkoot and the white pass trail to the headwaters of the Yukon River.

These were incredibly difficult passages as prospectors had to haul all of their gear over the coast range mountains, hypothermia, disease, suicide and starvation were not uncommon. Using pack animals was not possible on the steep Chilkoot trail, and men often overloaded their pack animals on the also difficult white pass.

The remains of more than 3000 horses lie at the bottom of Dead Horse Gulch. Although just 35 miles from Skagway to the Yukon River, the total distance walked was over 500 miles. As travelers marched back and forth hauling their supplies a little at a time and winding around the mountain [00:07:00] passes, once they arrived at the lakes forming the headwaters of the river, they either built homemade boats or purchased one to float the remaining 500 miles north to Dawson City.

Others chose the shorter but much more difficult glacier routes from Yakutat and Valdez. This was a treacherous and unpredictable journey. Many became lost or suffered from snow blindness. Those who could afford it took what was called the rich man's route. This all water voyage sailed around to Western Alaska and sailed up the Yukon River to Dawson City.

This was by far the easiest route, but also much more expensive. At its height, Dawson City boasted a population of 18,000, but the boom of the Klondike Gold Rush was brief, and it began a steady decline, as did Skagway. The port of Dyea withered away completely and disappeared. Discovery of gold in Nome, Alaska [00:08:00] prompted a large departure of its miners in 1899.

Those who remained often went outside for the winter months, going south to Vancouver, Victoria, Seattle, or other locations. Year after year, fewer and fewer returned, and by 1918, Dawson City's population dropped to roughly 800 and was just a shadow of its former self. By October of 1918, the last ships were leaving Skagway for southern ports.

The last ship was scheduled to leave Skagway for the outside on October 23rd before the big freeze. Anyone who waited as long as possible to leave the North booked passage on the Princess Sophia, built by Bow McLaughlin and Company at Paisley, Scotland. She was named after Princess Sophia Matilda of the United Kingdom, hence the British pronunciation of Sophiaa rather than Sophia.

She was part of the Princess Fleet of six coastal liners purchased by Canadian Pacific Railroad [00:09:00] or CPR, and launched on the 8th of November, 1911. These liners were designed to provide passenger and cargo service to the more remote locations of the Pacific Northwest, along the inside passage of British Columbia and Alaska.

She was a steel double hauled steamship with a length of 245 feet. A beam of 44 feet and a gross weight of 2,320 tons. Her single screw, triple expansion engine could provide propulsion up to 14 and a half knots. She was not luxurious, but still a comfortable, well appointed ship. Her original service route was primarily between Vancouver and Prince Rupert, but in 1913, she was assigned to take biweekly trips between Vancouver and Skagway.

With a capacity of 166 first class passengers and 84 second class passengers, she quickly became a favorite. She was sturdy enough to withstand the harsh weather of the Pacific Northwest, but agile enough to navigate the channels of the [00:10:00] inside passage.

On October 23rd, 1918, the Princess Sophia departed Skagway at 10:10 PM three hours behind schedule on her last voyage of the season.

The ship was packed full of luggage and cargo, including 24 horses, five dogs, and $132,000 in gold ingots. 353 people were on board, including minors, government officials, employees, businessmen, families, and newly recruited soldiers heading to war. Included in this number were 73 crew, including Captain Leonard Locke.

66-year-old Captain Locke had experienced a lifetime at sea growing up in Halifax. He joined his father on a ship at age 16, traveling the world with the Red Star line. He relocated to Vancouver in 1895 and ran a tugboat for the Dunsmuir family Coal magnates out of British Columbia.

In 1901, he joined Canadian Pacific Railroad and commanded [00:11:00] steamers along the Pacific Northwest. By 1918, he had 50 years of experience and had a respectable reputation. He was known as being extremely fastidious with procedures and very strict and proper. Leaving Skagway, the Sophia began its journey out of the 90 mile long Lynn canal.

A cold wind was strong out of the north, bringing a harsh chill with it, forcing those gathered on the deck to head inside. As the passenger settled in, children were put to bed and adults gathered in the ship's saloon to socialize and talk business. At 11:00 PM As the ship passed Battery Point, the weather turned for the worse.

A blinding snowstorm enveloped the ship and the winds came whipping south. Over the mountain peaks, the water boiled with frothy white caps and visibility was quite poor. But Captain Locke continued on being three hours behind already. He had faced worse than this, and he knew these waters well. The inside passage was typically much [00:12:00] calmer than the open ocean.

But strong winter storms out of the north were common and could come up without warning. Despite the rough seas, the Princess Safia steamed ahead at full speed. It passed through the seven mile wide channel of Burners Bay, but Locke knew the narrower Favourite Channel was ahead. On the approach to Juneau.

It was two and a half miles wide, and you would have to proceed with caution through the channel between Poundstone Rock and Lincoln Island. But for the time being, he kept the ship at full speed. The only obstacle to be concerned with was Vanderbilt Reef. This is about a half acre of flattened rock and is the tip of a 1000 foot underwater mountain from the base of Lynn Canal at low tide.

It is about 12 feet above the waterline, but at high tide, it might be just barely visible or not visible at all. If the seas are crashing hard over it, it is two and a half miles from the eastern shore and four miles from the western island shore. In 1918, a small [00:13:00] red and black buoy marker was anchored at the southern tip of the reef, which was highly visible during the day, during good visibility and virtually impossible to see at night with poor visibility.

Captains and pilots often used Point Sherman as a point of reference, located about 15 miles to the north of Vanderbilt Reef. Using this reference, they could set their bearing and be sure to stay in the channel. In poor visibility, the ship's whistle would be sounded and the seconds counted until hearing the echo.

This technique seems incredibly unreliable and archaic today. But it was used when needed, often successfully, whether or not Captain Locke used Point Sherman as a reference or the ship's whistle to determine his bearing is unknown. But the Princess Sophia was off course racing down the center of Lynn Canal at approximately 2:10 PM in a blinding storm, the ship slammed into the north end of Vanderbilt Reef going 11 to 12 knots.

It was high tide, and so most [00:14:00] of the reef was submerged. The Sophia slid up on top of the flattened rock, grinding its keel across the reef. The sudden jolt caused everyone and everything on onboard the ship to crash across the room. The Sophia was suspended up on the reef only just barely supported by very shallow water.

Its propeller up out of the water spinning freely in the air, and so the ship's engines were shut down. Captain Locke ordered the lifeboat swung out on their davits and for the ship's situation to be evaluated. Locke sent the following message to CPR in Victoria via wireless. Princess Sophia Ran on Vanderbilt Reef Lynn Canal, three o'clock ship, not taking any water.

Unable to back off at high water. Fresh Northerly wind ship pounding assistance on way from Juneau. The message was received by the vessel Cedar outside of Juneau Harbor, and another message was sent to the CPR [00:15:00] station in Skagway due to the delays and difficulties in transmitting via wireless. At that time, the message was not received in Victoria until 12 hours later.

Passengers were concerned but orderly and generally remained calm, although there was a terrible impact with the reef injuries were few. Captain Locke told the passengers that the ship was not taking on water and assured them he would be able to move the ship off the reef when the water rises At 4:45 AM Locke received a message from Juneau informing him that the vessels, Estebeth, Amy, Lone Fishermen, and Peterson were all on their way to his location.

This was calming news for the passengers, but Locke believed all of those vessels were too small to perform a rescue in such violent, seas. At 9:00 AM the Peterson arrived commanded by Captain Cornelius Stidham. The sound of its whistle was a welcome relief. The Peterson approached within about [00:16:00] 75 yards of the Sophia and used a megaphone to communicate with Captain Locke.

Stidham was told to stand by and wait for high tide when the lifeboats would be launched. Stidham kept his vessel nearby and waited. As the passengers waited, anxiety began to set in as they realized their rescue was not certain. The Estebeth arrived next and its Captain James Davis observed. The Sophia was almost fully out of the water, despite it being just past high tide.

He communicated with Locke as well, and Locke assured hem. The ship was securely in place, wedged in a cradle on the reef. Locke asked the vessels to continue to wait, and when the seas calmed, he would launch the lifeboats. But Captain Davis made another important observation. The Princess Sophia had an enormous seam in her bow, an opening of about four to six inches.

Water was pouring in and out of the outer hull of the ship and his estimation at 300 gallons per minute. [00:17:00] Despite rescue ships being available, captain Locke believed it to be too dangerous to launch the lifeboats, and this decision was emboldened by his belief that his ship was firmly stuck on the reef.

Locke certainly would have recalled the tragedy of the steamer Clallam in 1904. While foundering in the strait of Juan de Fuca, its captain launched three lifeboats in rough seas, only to watch them capsize. Sending 56 people, mostly women and children to their deaths. Passengers on the Sophia began to line up on the deck with their suitcases, believing they would soon be boarding the lifeboats.

Captain Stidham on the Peterson watched and was at the ready, but the signal never came to begin. The rescue and the lifeboats were not launched. All through the day of October 24th, passengers on board, the Sophia waited anxiously as their hopes rose and fell. With each high tide, the snow, wind, and waves were unrelenting, and Captain Locke continued to wait.

[00:18:00] Meanwhile, Signal Corps private Auris MacQueen wrote a letter to his mother. As soon as this storm quits, we will be taken off. She is a double bottom boat and her inner hall is not penetrated. So here we stick. She pounds some on a rising tide and it is slow riding, but our only inconvenience is so far, lack of water.

The main steam pipe got twisted off and we were without lights last night and have run out of soft sugar. The pipe is fixed, so we are getting heat and lights now and we still have lump sugar and water for drinking. The lighthouse tender Cedar arrived at 10:00 PM under Captain JW Ledbetter. He ordered search lights on the Sophia to check on her condition, and he agreed with Captain Locke that it would be impossible to safely launch the boats.

The fishing schooner king and Winge under Captain JJ Miller was also on scene and diligently circled the Sophia throughout the night. Communications from CPR headquarters to coordinate. Rescue efforts [00:19:00] were plagued by problems and delays. Messages to Juneau repeatedly failed either due to weather or other interference.

But CPR agent Frank Lowell at Juneau had made arrangements to house all of the occupants of the Princess Sophia. It was difficult to find lodging for over 300 people. However, he found beds for them at numerous hotels, boarding houses, and even private If all on board could be evacuated, there would be a safe place for them to go.

Eight rescue vessels were in the area on the morning of October 25th. Still, there was no sign of the weather improving, and in fact, it continued to worsen throughout the day. The Cedar attempted to anchor about 500 yards from Vanderbilt Reef in order to shoot a breaches buoy using a Lyle gun to the Sophia.

Her anchor would not hold in the strong current and the effort was abandoned. Waves crashed into the Sophia with a relentless fury. Passengers became increasingly [00:20:00] frightened as the ship scraped against the reef and was heaved up and slammed down again. How long the ship could hold up to the pounding was anyone's guess.

Captain Locke gave the order to distribute life jackets to all passengers. Assign everyone to lifeboats and provide rescue operation instructions.

The lifeboats were swung out, but remained covered in order to keep the snow out of them. By 1:00 PM of October 25th, the Cedar and the King and Winge were forced to seek shelter in the lee of nearby Sentinel Island.

Captains Ledbetter and Miller discussed their options for a possible rescue, but agreed nothing could be done until the following morning. In his letter to his mother, Auris McQueen described the rescue efforts. We had three tugboats here in the afternoon, but the weather was too rough to transfer any passengers.

The most critical time was at low tide at noon when the captain and chief officer figured she was caught on the starboard bow and would [00:21:00] hang there while she settled on the port side and a stern. They were afraid she would turn turtle, but the bow pounded around and slipped until she settled into a groove.

Well supported forward on both sides. The wind and the 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.

The tenacity of the storm was unforgiving with no end in sight, forcing the rescue boats to leave the Princes Sophia and seek shelter at 4:50 PM a huge swell lifted the ship violently and its steel hall produced a horrifying shriek as it began slipping from the reef.

Radio operator of the Sophia David Robinson, sent an urgent message ship foundering on reef come at once. The Cedar and King and Winge responded and began heading back out into the storm to provide assistance. At 5:20 PM another message was received by the vessel [00:22:00] Cedar. For God's sake, hurry, the water is coming in my room.

Captain Ledbetter responded, telling Robinson, we are coming. Save your batteries. Robinson replied. All right, I will you talk to me so I know you are coming. This was the last communication received from the Princess Sophia. Shortly after this message was sent, the strong winds and current lifted the ship's stern section and the vessel slowly spun in place, grinding the rock underneath it into a smooth powder.

The Sophia was turned 180 degrees with the bow facing north into the current. The blinding storm proved to be too much for the Cedar and king of wing, and both were forced back to shelter. At approximately 5:50 PM the Princess Sophia slipped off the reef and sank to the bottom of Lynn Canal with all 353 on board.

As she sank. Its bottom plates were ripped [00:23:00] open, flooding the engine room. There were no survivors. Watches later found on the victims had stopped at 5:50 PM Finally, at 9:00 AM the following morning, October 26th, the weather broke enough for the rescue vessels to return to Vanderbilt Reef. The Cedar, King and Winge and other vessels arrived, but the men were stunned to see the ship was gone from its perch on the reef.

All that could be seen was the top 40 feet of the ship's foremast above the surface of the water captain JW Ledbetter of the Cedar wired. A message to Juneau, no sign of life, no hope of survivors. The rescue vessels began the sad duty of retrieving bodies that had floated to the surface with CPR offering $50 for everybody found.

After several hours of searching, a few oil covered bodies were recovered before weather forced them to pause. Over the coming weeks and [00:24:00] months, more bodies were recovered along the Alaskan coast, some up to 30 miles away. Within days, divers searched the wreck of the Sophia. What they found indicated she san quickly and unexpectedly with many being unprepared.

Children were found still tucked in their beds, and adults were found fully dressed in the saloon halls, cabins and washroom. Some had life jackets and seemed prepared, but about 100 people were found below deck still in their cabins. Passenger James Kirk of Dawson City was found tied to a younger man by the wrists in an apparent effort to save him newspapers called him the most heroic man of the Sophia wreck.

Crewman Frank Gosse survived the sinking of the ship and used the lifeboat to make it to shore only to die from exposure during the night. All indications are that no order had been given to abandoned ship or it came at the very last moment. Some [00:25:00] perhaps resigned themselves to their doom and calmly waited for the end while those who were able made it into the water only to drown or succumb to hypothermia.

A coroner later determined. That most were suffocated in thick oil from the ship's torn fuel tanks. Recovery efforts were centered in the town of Juneau, which responded gently while itself dealing with the flu epidemic with a population of just 3000 CPR agents, government officials and volunteer civilians assisted with the search and recovery and clean the oil soaked bodies of over 300 people with gasoline.

A warehouse was converted into a temporary morgue where bodies were cataloged and personal items. Logged guards were stationed at the warehouse around the clock to prevent looting. By November 1st, 180 bodies had been recovered, and most of them were identified. Embalmers and coffins from Skagway, Kechikan and Seattle were brought in as the demand was simply [00:26:00] too much for the small town.

While most victims that would be found had already been recovered, a trickle of bodies continued to turn up as much as a year later. News of the disaster spread quickly. On October 28th, the Toronto Globe published a story with the headline, worst Marine Tragedy on the Pacific Coast, Pacific Coast, and Glasgow.

Headlines read Terrible disaster at Sea. Princess Sophia lost. The news hit the families of the victims hard, especially in Dawson City. Its residents originally received news that the steamer was grounded, but perfectly safe. Then on October 26th, news came that the ship had founded and all were lost. 126 residents of Dawson City died on the Princess Sophia, about 16% of its This was a devastating loss for the small community. The Dawson Daily News published an editorial [00:27:00] simply titled, keep Heart. A portion of the column reads, few Tragedies Indeed Take at one fell stroke. Such a heavy percentage of those so well known in a community.

156 of the recovered bodies were shipped south for burial.

62 to Vancouver, 25 to Victoria, and the remaining to Seattle and the surrounding area. The bodies were transported on the Princess Alice, and it arrived in Vancouver on November 11th. Earlier that day, the end of the Great War was announced. It was Armistice Day and the public filled the streets in celebration.

The ship of sorrow, as it became known, was strangely greeted by an overwhelmingly rejoiceful crowd. Approximately 21 bodies remained in Juneau, who were from the North, including Dawson City. It simply was not possible to transport them home. No ships were making the voyage North until the spring, [00:28:00] and transporting Overland was simply not an option.

Instead, they were buried locally in Juneau at Evergreen Cemetery. The body of Signal Corps private Auris McQueen was found. Along with his letter to his mother. He was buried at Sitka National Cemetery in Sitka, Alaska. Jack Maskell, whose letter you heard at the top of this episode was also found along with his letter to his fiance Dorothy.

He was buried at Mountain View Cemetery in Vancouver, British Columbia. The body of Captain Leonard P. Locke was never found. An investigation into the sinking of the Princess Sophia was launched January 6th, 1919. The actions of Captain Locke were the focus of the inquiry. Particularly his decision to run at full speed during a storm in poor visibility.

His decision not to launch the lifeboats also came under fire testimony from the Captains and Crew. The [00:29:00] various rescue vessels were mixed. Some believed there may have been an opportunity or two to launch the lifeboats while others believed at no time was it ever safe to do so. CPR officials vigorously defended the actions of Captain Locke.

The ship's log was never found and no evidence existed to explain how the ship veered off course. Ultimately, no blame was assigned to Captain Locke or anyone else. The inquiry submitted its findings entitled Report to the Marine and Fisheries Ottawa, which stated the Princess Sophia was lost due to perils of the sea.

Workers' compensation claims are filed against CPR by the families of the crew. Those were dismissed as the accident happened in Alaskan waters. The act of British Columbia, which provided workers' compensation claims only applied within the province. But this decision was overturned in an appeals court and each crew member's family was awarded a small [00:30:00] pension of up to $3,500 from CPR, depending on each family circumstances and monthly installments.

A total of $83,000 was paid out in exchange for an agreement not to sue The company CPR also paid an additional $78,000 for funeral expenses for the victims. Civil lawsuits were filed in United States courts against CPR with attorney William Martin representing the families of 225 victims. The case was heard in Seattle in front of Judge Jeremiah Neter.

Martin argued that the officers of the Princess, Sophia were not qualified, incompetent, and were alcoholics and drunk on the night of the accident. He alleged that most of the crew consisted of boys and men who were rejected for service in the army. Much emphasis was also placed on Captain Locke's carelessness and subsequent failure to evacuate the passengers from the ship.

CPRS Lawyers [00:31:00] denied these allegations and submitted a petition to dismiss the case on the grounds of limited liability in September of 1921. After extensive testimony, judge Neter gave his decision he denied CPR's petition for limited liability and awarded a judgment of two and a half million dollars to the Families plus $1 million in court fees to be paid by CPR.

Judge Neterer wrote. Ordinary care on the part of the lookout and moderate speed would've prevented the catastrophe. CPR immediately filed an appeal to have the case reheard before Judge Neterer, which was granted. The case was re argued using the same evidence and same testimony just two weeks after the first judgment.

The decision was reversed and cprs petition for limited liability was granted. This began a long, drawn out legal battle lasting more than 10 years. Captain Locke was accused of drunkenness, incompetence, and of having [00:32:00] inappropriate relations with females on board. A bizarre accusation even levied that he rabid hated Americans and sunk the ship on purpose.

None of these claims were substantiated and were dismissed by the court. Finally, in 1930, a US District Court upheld the decision in favor of CPR, and it was confirmed by the US Circuit Court of Appeals in 19 32, 14 years after the loss of the Princess Sophia, the final ruling, limited cprs responsibilities to the value of the passenger's fares, luggage, and freight fairs, which was estimated at about $9,000.

Years of court costs dwindled this down to a total of $643 and 50 cents. About $2 per passenger CPR. Additionally received an insurance payout of $250,000 from Lloyd's of London for the loss of the ship. Prior to the sinking of the Princess Sophia, there had been calls to place a lighted [00:33:00] marker on Vanderbilt Reef and other locations along the inside passage.

CPR itself requested a lighted buoy on Vanderbilt Reef in 1917, but their request was denied due to a lack of funds following the disaster the Daily Alaskan wrote. Vanderbilt Reef has long been regarded as a menace to navigation, another terrible marine casualty numberless. Human lives have found a resting place and the icy waters of those sparsely lighted and poorly protected shores.

In the case of the Princess Sophia, the loss of life is most appalling, making it the most serious wreck of record on the Pacific. Finally, in 1920, a navigation beacon was installed on Vanderbilt Reef. The Princess Sophia itself lies along the slopes of Vanderbilt Reef in several pieces. With its bow 40 feet underwater and its stern and deeper water, 130 feet down.

She has healed over on her port side with much of its content [00:34:00] spilled out along the slope. It is a popular dive spot when conditions permit, although it has never been surveyed, the ship's all black and white color contrasted with an abundance of marine life has been described as eerie and spiritual divers to the right can expect to see the ship's rudder.

A fluke of the propeller boilers its main engine. Toilets, sinks, bathtubs, deck winches, and the ship's foremast.

News of the Great War and the influenza epidemic was at the forefront of everyone's minds when the Sophia was lost, just five days later on October 30th, HMCS Galliano went down Significant news as it was the only Canadian vessel lost during the great war.

When the war ended on November 11th, this pushed the tragedy even further out of mind. As nations worldwide celebrated peace. For these reasons, the Princess has been referred to. As the unknown Titanic of the West Coast.

However, in more recent years, more has been done to remember and honor those who were lost. A memorial service at Evergreen Cemetery held every year at noon at the grave site of Walter and Francis Harper, a newlywed couple who lost their lives on the tragedy in 2018 at the Centennial Remembrance of the Princess Sophia.

A Bronze Memorial plaque was commissioned by the pioneers of Alaska and installed at Eagle Beach State Recreation Area, and dedicated on July 14th. The plaque features a depiction of the steamship. It includes the inscription in memory of the 350 passengers and crew who perished on the SS Princess Sophia at Vanderbilt Reef on October 25th, 1918.

And as it turned out, there was allegedly one survivor, an [00:36:00] English setter found by local cannery workers. The dog nicknamed Tommy was covered in oil and shivering, but survived the harrowing ordeal. Tommy was thought to have belonged to Captain James Alexander, who went down with the ship.

The Alexander estate later clarified that Tommy was a Chesapeake Bay retriever. While it has been debated whether Tommy came from the ship or was a local dog lost in the water, Tommy has become a local legend in July of 2024. A bronze statue of Tommy. The dog was installed at Tee Harbor in Juneau, honoring the only survivor, mythical or not of the Princess Sophia.