Sunken History — A Diver’s Journal
The Sinking of the Daniel J. Morrell
by Captain Deb Biniecki

As I research these articles and read the few scattered accounts of long forgotten incidents, I can only try to imagine what it must have been like to be aboard a ship as it was ravaged by the seas. Rarely is there an opportunity to hear a firsthand account of a shipwreck survivor. Such was the case in October when Dennis Hale, sole survivor of the steamer Daniel J. Morrell, presented his story at the Sanilac County Museum for the Genealogical Society. The chapel at the museum grounds was packed with curious people eager to hear his story. Mr. Hale invited us to go with him on the Morrell that bitter November night. He set the scene and led us through his life-changing ordeal.

It was Monday November 28, 1966, when Dennis Hale and another crew member, John Groh, boarded the Morrell in Winsor, after having missed the ship’s departure in Buffalo. It was important for them to make this last trip of the season in order to earn their end-of-the-season bonuses. The Morrell was headed to Taconite Harbor, Minnesota, on the western shore of Lake Superior, to pick up a load of the taconite pellets used to make steel.

Earlier in the day the weather conditions were benign with temperatures in the 30s and a westerly wind. However, the witch of November was about to strike. The worst storm in decades was brewing across the lake region. This storm would wreak havoc across the lakes. At Thunder Bay Shoals near Alpena, the German ship Nordmeer, which had been grounded on Thunder Bay Shoals since November 19, summoned the Coast Guard for rescue as their ship broke apart beneath them. At Ludington the car ferry City of Midland carrying 128 passengers, and 56 crew was blown aground and stranded for three days before they could be rescued.

As the Morrell made her way up the lake she was in the company of the Townsend, another Bethlehem Steel ship; her sister ship, the Townsend, was just behind her. They were making good time until near Harbor Beach. The captains talked over their radio phones discussing the deteriorating weather conditions. By 8:30 in the evening the wind came out of the north at about 35 miles an hour and waves were at least eight feet, significantly decreasing their progress. Within two hours, gale force winds blew at over 50 miles an hour and waves doubled in height. The freighters were making little progress but were unable to turn around for fear of being caught in the trough of the waves and capsizing. So they continued their north bound journey hoping to find refuge at Thunder Bay near Alpena where they could ride out the storm.

By midnight the wind was screaming at 65 miles an hour. The captains again spoke briefly and ended their conversation so they could get back to the business of maintaining their positions. This would be the last communication from the Morrell. Progress was at a standstill and it was all they could do to keep from being swamped by the 20-foot waves of white water crashing across their bows.

At 1:45 a.m. Captain Connelly of the Townsend attempted to contact the Morrell’s skipper, Captain Crowley. There was no response. He tried again a few hours later, still no response. He assumed that the Morrell’s radio antenna had been damaged in the brutal pounding as there was no earlier indication of distress.

By 9:30 p.m. Dennis Hale retired to his bunk in the ship’s forward starboard side so he could be rested for his shift as watchman, which would start at 4 o’clock in the morning. As the ship rolled and tossed in the storm he heard the familiar sounds of the anchors clanking against the side of the ship’s bow. At about 2 o’clock in the morning he was awakened by a loud bang. This was shortly followed by another louder bang and violent jolt which sent books at his bedside scattering. He reached for his light and found there was no electricity. Just then the ship’s alarm sounded. On the way out of his cabin he grabbed his life jacket and put it on over bare skin. Clad only in his boxer shorts he made his way to the spar deck to see what was happening.

On the forward deck there was no electricity but looking back he could see the aft lights dimly glowing through the snow and crashing waves. The electric cables had snapped and were whipping wildly in the wind. Even more frightening was the reason for the loss of power. The ship was bent and the stern now rose up above the bow. Ships are designed to flex but the ferocious seas were too much for the Morrell and she was breaking in two. Clearly, the only thing left for the crew to do was to save themselves.

Hale knew he needed more clothing if he were to survive. The freezing slush stung his bare feet as he made his way back to his cabin. In the engulfing darkness he groped for his clothing but could only come up with his wool pea coat. He threw this on over his life jacket and ran toward the life raft.

A crewman told the group to get in and hold on tight. They were being tossed about so violently that it was impossible to launch the heavy raft. About a dozen men huddled in the untied pontoon style raft and waited for their ship to sink from under them, setting the raft free. Hale recalled that there was no chaos or panic. In fact there was little conversation at all. The men sat quietly consumed with their private thoughts as they awaited their fate.

Join us next month for the continuation of the story of the sinking and sole survivor of the Daniel J. Morrell.

If you would like to contact Capt. Deb with any ideas, feedback, or information regarding shipwreck stories, please contact her through Huron Explorations at 810-648-4638 or e-mail at captdeb@avci.net. SCUBA diving charters can also be arranged through the above contact information.