Erie Railroad - Erie Railroad Lake Line - Engine Performance, "George F. Brownell"
Excerpted from the November, 1914 issue of Erie Railroad Magazine
A Trip on the Erie Railroad Lake Line
By Captain C.W. Watson, Master, Steamer GEORGE F. BROWNELL
I am a railroad man and have been connected with the Erie for a number of years. I thought I knew about all there was worth knowing about the "Old Reliable," meaning by that, of course, that I have always had the best interests of the company at heart, and always tried to promote the interests of the company, whenever possible.
Among other things that I knew about our system was, that we had a steamboat line on the Great Lakes, but as my duties did not bring me in touch with the Lake Line, I never gave it much thought, but had formed an opinion that it was a sort of tame affair, and from seeing canal boats around New York harbor with the word "Buffalo" on them and hearing that they came from Buffalo with 200 tons of freight, I supposed that our fleet of lake boats were a little larger but built on the same order as the canal boats, so when it was suggested that I take my wife, whose health was and had been very poor for some time, for a trip on one of our boats from Buffalo to Chicago, I smiled at the idea and said that no doubt a boat ride to Coney Island would be of more benefit, as far as health and rest was concerned, as there could not be much comfort, or anything else, on a boat that had to be tied up to a pier every time it looked like rain.
But, all sleepers wake up some time and I was one of them; in fact, I was awakened with a start, that I will not forget as long as I live.
I finally made arrangements to go on the trip and found that I had been assigned to the Steamer "George F. Brownell," which was to sail from Buffalo May 15th (1914) at 3:00 P.M.
We arrived at Buffalo at 8:30 A.M. on the 15th and thought we had better get a good breakfast and then lose no time in getting to our boat, as I was not very well acquainted in Buffalo and did not wish to miss the trip, now that I had got started, so we hailed a taxi and then I wondered how I would be able to make the driver understand where I wanted to go, but as luck would have it, just as the taxi stopped in front of us, my wife asked me if the line was called the "Erie Railroad Lake Line." I said yes. The driver overheard the remark and asked if we wanted to go to the dock. Of course we said we did and got into the machine and away we went.
In about ten minutes the machine stopped, the door opened, and we were told that we were at the Erie Dock, so we got out and the first things we saw were great, big freight houses on two sides of where we were standing. We looked the other way and saw water, toward which we walked. When we got a little closer I looked up and then nearly fainted, for there in front of us was the front end, or bow, of what appeared to be an ocean liner, on which were the words "George F. Brownell," "Erie Railroad Lake Line."
As we stood there in opened-mouthed wonder, like the farmer when he first saw an elephant, a man in uniform came along; we soon saw the words "Chief Engineer" on his cap and judged that he belonged to our ship. I met him and asked if he were a member of the crew, telling him that we were to go on this ship for a trip and did not know how to get on board. The Chief said he would be pleased to escort us on board and introduce us to the Steward, who, in the absence of the Captain, would show us our quarters.
As we turned to go, the Chief said, "Here comes the Captain now," and on looking toward the street we saw a tall, well built, dignified looking gentleman, approaching us, who one would have taken to be, if it were not for his youthful appearance, a bank president. After being introduced by the Chief the Captain took us in charge and piloted us through a wonderful maze of freight and dock laborers to a long pair of stairs, which we ascended, in order to reach the spar deck of the ship, on which was located the cabins.
The Captain then showed us our quarters; we then received shock No. 2, for we found ourselves in a large, beautiful room, with four large windows and all finished in pure white enamel, a full-sized massive brass bed, on which was spotless linen, quartered oak dresser and a writing desk to match, large, comfortable willow chairs to sit in, rich olive-green silk curtains on the windows, and carpets of dark green ingrain on the floor, with handsome electric light fixtures on the walls. We inspected the lavatory with silver finished trimmings and hot and cold running water. Nearby was a door and on being opened, there was seen a bathroom, which was perfect in every detail. The Captain, bidding us make ourselves at home, left to look after something which required his attention, so my wife and I just sat down and wondered if we were really awake, or just having a pleasant dream.
We soon became aware of considerable noise underneath us, which we had not noticed before, due, I suppose, to the fact that we had been surprised at every turn, and so far our ideas had been completely upset.
Well, we went out on deck and looking over the side of the ship could see an endless stream of men going and coming from the freight house into what looked like big holes in the side of the ship, some were pushing two-wheeled trucks loaded with various kinds of freight and some were rolling barrels of sugar and salt onto the boat. The Captain came to where we were standing and my wife fairly took the words out of my mouth when she said, "Why, Captain, how in the world do you manage to keep the water from coming into the ship through those big holes in the side, when it rains, or in a storm?"
I thought I could see daylight, so answered the question by saying, "Why, you see they have some kind of canvas cover to put over the holes to keep out the rain, which is all that is necessary, as it is only on the ocean where they would have storms that would throw the water up to those holes."
The Captain smiled at my answer, which I accepted as an acknowledgment of my wisdom, he then said, "Do you see those big cranes, with what looks like big iron plates attached to them? Well, there is one directly above each of those holes in the side of the ship. We call the holes gangways, and when we have received all our freight, those big plates are lowered over the side and fitted into the opening, where they are made fast inside with lugs and bolts and when they are in place they are water-tight and you would not know that there had been a hole there, unless you looked twice. Those holes are six and a half feet square." My wife said, "How nice." I said nothing.
The captain suggested as it was nearly dinnertime, we have a look around the deck, and after dinner, and while the men were not working, we could go below and see how the freight was stowed away, which I was eager to do. We then went up two more flights of stairs and into what the Captain called the "upper pilot house," from where we could see both ends of the ship and where, we were told, the officers kept watch when under way.
Mrs. Watson and I refrained from asking questions, but kept our eyes and ears open. As we had a good clear view, the ship looked to be about a quarter of a mile long. I afterwards learned that she was built of steel, 340 feet long, 41 feet wide, and 26 feet deep.
After feasting our eyes on the many interesting things to be seen, we went down into the lower pilot house and each managed to stick our feet directly into the puddle of folly. As soon as we got inside my wife said, "Look, at the funny looking clock, Jim; did you ever see anything like that before?" I looked in the direction indicated and said without moving a muscle. "Why, that is the clock they use to tell them when to strike the bell, that we read about."
The Captain then told us that it was not a clock, but a compass and was used to steer the ship by, and he never turned a hair while saying it. "A Compass" exclaimed my wife, "Is it possible that you have compasses on these lake boats and can use them, why I always thought that a compass was only necessary on the ocean, when out of sight of land and on these little lakes they were never used." We then went in the Captain's quarters, or "texas," as he called it, and found it to be a large office and bedroom with an up-to-date bathroom between them. The finish and fixtures were of the same order as our quarters, comfortable in every respect. We heard a bell ringing and were informed that in fifteen minutes dinner would be served, when the bell would ring again. We had been so busy seeing things and getting surprised, that it we had not thought about being hungry before, but on being reminded of it we were both anxious to see the kind and how the food was served, so we went to our room to get ready for dinner. When we were alone my wife said, "Jim after what we have seen and I have said, what do you think of me?" "Well," I replied, "about the same as you think of me, I guess." So we shook hands and resolved to keep ourselves out of traps in the future.
On going out on deck we found the Captain talking with two gentlemen, whom he introduced, one as the Superintendent of Operation, the other the Agent at Buffalo Lake, both of whom we were very much pleased to meet. On reaching the dining room we were greeted with a sight that we will long remember, for before us was a large white room lighted on the side by large windows and overhead by a skylight the full length and width of the table. The table was set with a spotless white cloth, on which shown brilliant silverware and shining china and laden with such a variety of good things to eat, that I will not attempt to describe them.
The officers were dressed in neat, well-fitting uniforms of blue, the steward and waiter in immaculate white coats and aprons and not a speck of dust or dirt to be seen anywhere. Judging from the amount we ate the Captain must have thought we had been fasting for a month. While at dinner we learned that the entire crew of 23 men did not eat in this dining room, but there was another place called a "mess room," where the firemen and deckhands ate, they being served the same food as we had and all they wished of it.
After dinner we went between decks. The ship is divided into what you might call "stories" or "floors," like a building -- first the spar deck, on which are the cabins, then nine feet below is the main deck and then 17 feet below is the bottom of the ship, the space between the main deck and bottom of the ship being divided into sections or holds by steel bulkheads or partitions, which are placed cross-wise of the ship and extend from the bottom up to the main deck, then hatches or openings are made in the main deck, through which the freight is put into the holds by means of a steam hoisting gear which extends the entire length of the freight space and at each hatch which, on this ship, there are seven. There are two drums with ropes running from them to each end of the hatch, so arranged that by hooking a barrel or other article onto the end of one of these ropes, one man can, by working a lever at the side of the hatch, hoist or lower the article out of or into the hold very rapidly and without damage. This hoisting gear is so arranged that one or fourteen hoists can be operated at one time.
The freight is received on the ship through the gangways in the side onto the main deck, where it is either lowered into the holds or piled on the main deck itself, it depending on the class and amount of freight where it is placed. We were informed that the ship was being loaded, so that freight could be discharged at ten docks or landings at Milwaukee and Chicago, so it can be seen that it was no small task to load 2,000 tons of cargo and place it so that when a certain dock was reached, the freight for that dock could be discharged without disturbing any of the other freight, no matter whether it was one car or ten cars.
On looking closer we saw that there were five gangways on each side of the ship, they being distributed in the cargo space. A gangplank, the width of the gangway, was placed so that a smooth runway was obtained from the dock onto the between decks, over which the freight was rolled or trucked just like loading freight from a station platform into a box car.
Freight is not handled by the ship's crew, but by a contractor, who receives so much per ton for taking it from the floor of the freight house and stowing it on the boat, under the direction of a loading foreman, and the ship's officers.
It was now one o'clock and the dock laborers returned to work, there being four gangs of them of 40 men each and each gang in charge of a foreman.
We then went to the Custom House with the Captain to secure a clearance for the ship to Chicago. A clearance, or manifest, is a document describing the cargo and permitting the ship to sail between the ports stated therein, and must be surrendered at the port of destination within 24 hours after the ship's arrival.
On our return the loading was just being finished and the crew busy putting in or closing the gangways and getting ready to go out into the lake. It appeared to us that great pains were being taken to see that every bolt and nut were tight and the canvas covers over the hatches well secured, but as we had made about enough bad breaks for one day we said nothing, but looked wise.
At four o'clock all was ready and two tugboats were made fast, one at each end, and away we started down the Buffalo River, stern first. On our way out we passed a dry dock where ships are repaired. The dry dock proper is a great, large trench dug in the river bank; the sides and bottom of the trench are covered with timber and the river end is fitted with a gate reaching from above the water level to the bottom of the trench and when the gate is in position, water cannot get past it. A ship is floated into the dock or trench, the gate is placed across the opening and large pumps then pump the water out of the dock, then the ship rests on blocks about four feet above the bottom of the dock. The ship is then in about the same condition as a box car, that has been jacked up and the trucks removed. We also saw great grain elevators from which could be removed, from 15,000 to 20,000 bushels of grain an hour from a vessel, and a storage capacity of 1,500,000 bushels of grain in their bins.
There were, also, ships of other railroad lines, some were from Lake Superior ports and were loaded with cedar shingles from the States of Washington and Oregon, copper from Michigan and flour and feed from the great Northwest.
Here is a great side-wheel steamer, 500 feet long and 90 feet wide, carries 4,000 passengers and makes the run from Buffalo to Cleveland, 180 miles, in 10 hours. And here is another big sidewheeler, which runs from Buffalo to Detroit, has six decks or stories and is equipped with electric elevators and all the other modern conveniences that could be thought of.
We have now reached the turning basin where our ship is turned around, the tugs are cast off and under our own steam we proceed out of the harbor and onto the bosom of old Lake Erie.
When we rounded the breakwater it was five o'clock. The ship was then headed on a straight course for South East Shoal, 200 miles west, and then, for the first time, I realized what a delicate instrument the mariners compass is. After the stearing directions had been given to the man at the wheel, or wheelsman, as he is called, another instrument was set up and bearings of the sun were taken with it. The object of this operation was to see if the ship's compass was correct.
The bearings, or direction of the sun, has been computed for each 4 minutes of the day, so that by obtaining the sun's bearing with a sun compass or "pelours," as it is called, and comparing that with the ship's compass bearing of the sun, the error, if any, as computed can be obtained. I learned that the compass very seldom points true north, as it is affected by the earth's magnetism and also by the iron and steel used in the construction of the ship, and in the cargo. The earth's magnetic influence has been determined and for each locality the amount or strength of it is known, but the amount may be greater, or less, at different places.
The ship's magnetic attraction is overcome, to a certain extent, by placing magnets around the compass in certain positions. The care of a compass is a study in itself, and we were informed a very fickle instrument, in which complete confidence could never be placed and had to be watched with never-ceasing vigilance.
By the time we had learned the many surprising facts about the compass, supper was ready and while at the table, we noticed that only half the crew were present. We then found that the crew was divided into two watches of 6 hours each, except the firemen and coal passers, who worked 3 hours and then rested 6 hours. The watches were named the "first" and "second," the first watch going on duty at 6:15, remaining until 12:15, when relieved by the second watch, so that each watch had two tricks in each 24 hours. The second mate is in charge of the Captain's or first watch, and the first mate, in charge of the second watch. The crew consisted of the following: Captain, First Mate, Second Mate, two wheelsmen, two lookouts, six deck-hands, Chief Engineer, Ass't. Engineer, two oilers, three firemen, one steward, one waiter and one porter.
After supper we inspected the crews' quarters. The officers rooms all are fitted with brass beds of massive design, while the furnishings were equal to those of the passengers' quarters. The balance of the crew were quartered in rooms, also on the spar deck. Each room was furnished in white enamel, silk curtains on the windows and white linen on the beds. On asking to see the famous forecastle, we were shown a large room on deck with large windows on three sides of it. Inside there were six beds in three sets of one above the other, on which were clean sheets and pillow cases of checked blue material and clean blankets. The ceiling was painted white, the walls grey, the floor a golden brown, on which rugs were spread. The kitchen was next visited, and let me tell you that "Phoebe Snow" may prate about the "Road of Anthracite. but if she had been with us she would have had something worth-while writing about.
The Chief Engineer then escorted us around the engine room, and it was some engine we saw. It is a triple expansion, and being vertical, it stands like a mountain of iron and steel, 35 feet in height, and can develop 2,400 horse power. Outside of a slight humming noise made by the steam turbine driving the electric light plant, there was absolutely no noise or jar from this massive niece of machinery, which was driving the ship 12 miles an hour through the water. Then there were great pumps, each one working with the same quietness and precision as the main engine. The steel parts of the engine shone like polished silver, which in their movements would catch and reflect the electric lights, so they resembled strings of diamonds hanging in bright sunlight, swayed by the breeze. The main part of the engine was painted a rich maroon with black and burnished brass fittings. The engine room was plain white and the only oil or grease to be seen, was in the oil tanks and cans. The boiler room was next visited and here were seen two boilers 12 1/2 feet long and 14 1/2 feet in diameter, constructed of the finest steel 11 1/4 inches in thickness. The boilers were cylindrical in shape and the shell of each was composed of two single sheets -- the largest boiler sheets ever turned out of a shop. The steam was carried at 175 pounds. The firehold was not the inferno we imagined it to be, but a rather cool place, with plenty of air. The floors were swept clean and the tools kept in neat order along the wall.
On our return on deck we found the sky clouded over and the night as dark as a pocket. Going on the bridge we could see no traces of the shore. Not a light or an object of any kind was in sight, excepting those in our own little world beneath our feet. On looking down at the compass we could see that the ship was being held steadily on the course. The Captain remarked that he found the compass to be a very convenient instrument to have around on a night like this. We thought so too, but said nothing.
As we started to go to our room to retire, Mrs. Watson asked the captain if he would have us called, in case we passed Detroit before breakfast, as she wished very much to see that city. He said, "well don't let the fear of not seeing Detroit keep you from sleeping, as you are not on Erie train No. 3 now and it is 256 miles from Buffalo to Detroit."
After a refreshing night's sleep, we felt 10 years younger and after break-fast we walked around the deck enjoying the fresh morning air, and discovered that we could see no land, although the atmosphere was as clear as a bell and we could see for miles.
We went up to the texas for a visit and while there the Captain started to ask me questions about the railroad. This pleased me very much, for the thoughts of our blunders was keen in my mind and here appeared to be an opportunity to have sweet revenge, for, I thought what would a sailor know about a railroad. But I was doomed to disappointment, for I soon had to sit up and talk shop right from the shoulder, to keep up my end of the conversation.
I then resolved that when I returned home to look up a whole lot of points about the system that I found I did not know.
At eleven o'clock we reached South East Shoal, a shallow spot about 6 miles from the mainland on the Canadian shore and on which is anchored a vessel which displays a flashing white light at night, and blows a steam whistle when it is foggy. This point is where all the vessel tracks come together and from here to the entrance to Detroit River, all vessels travel the same course.
After meeting an endless stream of steamboats, we reached Bar Point, the entrance to Detroit River, at 2:10 P.M. Soon we were passing Bois Blanc Island, a beauty spot in the river, which is used by the people of Detroit for holding picnics on. On our right was the City of Amherstburg, Ont., a very pretty place. Then we came to the famous Lime Kiln Crossing, a channel that originally was only 11 to 12 feet deep, but the U.S. Government, after spending a barrel of money, has blasted a channel through the solid rock, to a depth of 21 feet. While there are two very short bends in the channel now, I was told that until ten years ago, that channel was so crooked and bends so short, that the vessels had to be built with hinges in their sides so they could be gotten around the short bends without hitting the rocks. This story seemed a little strange to me, but, of course, I did not dare to openly question it.
On our left could be seen a new channel called the Livingstone Channel, which has recently been completed and is only used by downbound boats, this channel is 12 miles long, and 6 miles is cut through solid lime stone, 300 feet wide and 22 feet deep. It was 5 years under construction and cost seven million dollars.
At 4:00 P.M. we reached Detroit.
Here we saw another branch of Uncle Sam's post office department, The Marine Post Office. Mail is addressed with the persons name to whom it is sent, then in place of a street and number, as in a city, the steamer's name on which that person is, is substituted, to which is added "Marine P.0., Detroit." The mail so addressed is put aboard a steam yacht, which is fitted up with distribution cases like a mail car, the cases being labeled with steamers' names. When a steamer comes in sight this steam yacht comes out to it and a bucket or box is lowered over the ship's side, this is caught by the mail boat, which is running along with and close to the ship. The mail from the ship is taken out of the bucket and all mail with the ship's name put in, tied up in a bundle, pulled back aboard and then distributed by the Captain. All of this takes place in less time than I can write about it, for the ship holds her course and speed. Then there is, also, a gasoline yacht, which comes to the ship's side, from which daily papers may be obtained.
The river at this point is about half a mile wide. There is a double or twin tunnel under the river here, that was built in sections of 350 feet in length, towed 50 miles down the St. Clair river and across Lake St. Clair, then sunk in a trench dug in the bottom of the river and the sections bolted together, and through which the Michigan Central R.R. now operate trains.
At the upper end of Detroit is Belle Isle, which is owned by the City of Detroit, and used for park purposes, the beauties of which I have not the power to describe and do justice to.
We were soon crossing Lake St. Clair. a body of water 17 miles long and from which we entered the St. Clair river, at the lower end of which is situated the famous St. Clair flats. which are dotted on the American side, with club houses and summer resorts, for miles. We passed the City of Port Huron, the entrance to Lake Huron, at 10:20 P.M., after meeting 63 steamers in 8:10 hours, while going through the rivers. Some of them were 617 feet long and 60 feet wide, drawing 20 feet of water meaning by that, that the bottom of the ship was 20 feet below the surface of the water, and loaded with 12,000 tons of iron ore. We met one that was 625 feet long, 60 feet wide, and had a cargo of 450,000 bushels of wheat.
The next morning, at about 5:30, we were awakened by our whistle being blown three times about every minute, so I got up and looked out, to find that the fog was so thick that our smoke stack could hardly be seen. We dressed and went out on deck and it seemed as if there were 10 or 15 other steamers around us, all blowing their whistle. Our engines were slowed down and we were not traveling more than 5 or 6 miles an hour and sometimes we were stopped while meeting other boats. All movements had to be made from the sound of the whistles, and as sound cannot be relied upon, either as to direction or distance in a fog, the utmost caution was necessary, in order to avoid collision with other vessels. We were now in the vicinity of what is termed the "Grave Yard" of the Great Lakes, on account of the many collisions and vessels foundering in this locality. It was on this lake that 250 lives and millions of dollars of vessel property were lost in that unprecedented storm of November 9 and 10 last fall. This ship was in the gale on this lake and from what I learned from the members of the crew who were here, the experience would make an interesting story in itself. About 6:00 P.M. the wind sprang up from the N.W. and the fog disappeared like magic, and by 9:00 o'clock lights could be seen for 20 miles. At this time we counted the lights of 37 vessels that were in sight at one time. After spending the day in the fog our former remarks about compasses were keenly brought to mind. At midnight we entered the Straits of Mackinac, a narrow passage that leads from Lake Huron into Lake Michigan. At the City of Mackinac there is a reporting station, from which the ship's passage is wired to the Manager and Agents, so they can, under ordinary circumstances calculate when a ship will arrive at its destination.
At breakfast time the next morning we were passing Beaver Island, where the Mormons set up an establishment on leaving New York State, shortly after the founding of the order.
From Lake Erie to Mackinac we had traveled 261 miles north and 85 miles west. Then we had to go south 233 miles and west 151 miles, to reach Chicago. But, by our course running, on an angle, the total distance from Mackinac to Chicago was only 343 miles. The distance from Buffalo to Chicago by water is 910 miles, but as the crow flies, it is 480 miles, Chicago being 69 miles due south and 452 miles west of Buffalo.
From Beaver Island to Point Betsey, on the east shore of Lake Michigan and where the ship is headed for the west shore, we passed between a number of islands and the mainland. On leaving Pt. Betsey the wind blew from the northwest -- a summer breeze, the Captain called it, but, if that was only a summer breeze, I don't care to see a winter breeze. After a while the ship began to roll and rock some; the waves would strike the side and the water would fly up into the air and over the ship. I felt glad that there was heavy iron plates over the gangways all bolted in fast and tight, instead of the canvass covers, which I had at first supposed were used. I could also see now the wisdom of making the hatches fast and secure before leaving Buffalo. Sick! No we were not sick, and as the walking between our quarters and the dining room was bad, we did not go to supper. A little later the Steward came to our room and asked us if we would like him to bring us our suppers, consisting of steak and fried onions. We declined the kind offer with mumbled thanks. Now I have always been very fond of fried onions and of course, know that when cooked that way are very rich and greasy, but ever since that night, whenever I have seen or heard of fried onions, there would be a strange feeling creep over me, which I have never been able to understand. At midnight on the 18th, after what appeared to be an everlasting 12 hours, we arrived at Milwaukee.
I was on the job early the next morning expecting to see a mixture of broken and damaged freight, but every thing was in order and nothing broken. I spoke to the First Mate about it and told him what I had expected to find. He seemed surprised and said the freight never got broken up, except when the ship rolled hard. I looked at him and told myself that this was no place for a minister's son and went up on deck. Freight was landed at two docks here and the method of handling was practically the same as loading.
Our freight was discharged at 5:00 P.M. and we left for Chicago. The wind had gone down and the atmosphere was clear. One of the most beautiful sights I have ever witnessed, was that presented by the shore line of Chicago at night. We could see a string of lights that were unbroken for 18 miles and behind them could be seen many flashing signs of all colors of the rainbow, while at the south end of the lights, the huge blast furnaces at South Chicago, added their ruddy glow.
As we entered Chicago river and made our way along it's narrow, crooked channel, it hardly seemed possible that a large ship could navigate without knocking down something with either one end or the other. Brooklyn is called the "City of Churches," on account of its many churches, so Chicago might well be named the "City of Bridges," for in places there is a bridge every block. We reached the Erie Lake Line dock and found that our ship would just fit in between two bridges, one at either end of our dock. Our ship, after discharging its local freight at this dock, would go on up the river about four miles farther, stopping at various railroad docks, leaving and taking on freight on its way.
It was with a feeling of regret, that we bade goodbye to the ship and crew, as this had been the most interesting trip I had ever taken (excepting, of course, my still unfinished voyage on the "Sea of Matrimony"). But, my time was limited and we left for home on train 4, much improved in body and mind, and with an ever lasting remembrance of the good ship "George F. Brownell" and the cook's fried onions.
Note: while this story is credited to Captain C.W. Watson, the protagonist appears to be "Jim Watson;" It is not known whether Captain Watson wrote the story from an Erie employee's viewpoint, or whether the story was mis-attributed to Captain Watson rather than to Mr. Watson.
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