Another Epic Saga: Middle Ledge

    There are many rocks and shoals along the coast of Nova Scotia, from the Lurcher off Yarmouth to Hay Island Shoals off Scaterie.........the list seems almost endless, but of them all, none is worse in my mind than one which lies in our back yard; Middle Ledge, a.k.a., The Breaker or The Sou'easter, laying almost in the east/west fairway; over the years it has been the graveyard of many ships.

    On September 17th 1938, the Lunenburg schooner "Nelson L" was proceeding westward toward her home port after having completed the sword fishing season off Cape Breton. Having left Maskell's Harbour, five miles north of Grand Narrows, that fateful morning, she carried a deck load of 31 tons of coal, belonging to her crew; namely her Captain, Akiah Conrad, of Lunenburg, Earl Bowers, mate, his son, Robert, both of Cherry Hill, Lun. Co., Carmen Bowers and his brother Wade, as well as Harvey Langille, all of Cherry Hill.

    When my dad lit the light that night he could see the little schooner outside New Harbour Ledge on a course that would take her between Tom Cod Shoals and the island. The sea was quite rough, and dad told me many times in later years, that he was amazed that the vessel would be pursuing this hazardous route as darkness approached. About seven thirty dad went out on the veranda to see if he could see her, and could make out her mast head light and judged that she was out side the Tom Cod and he knew that the captain had prudently made a course change that would take him to the fairway and freedom from the dangers of the shoal water that comprises the Tom Cod shoals., i.e. Big and Little Tom Cod and Gulls Nest.

    On board the schooner it turned out that Captain Conrad had ordered a course of west 1/2 sou' (266 degrees magnetic) Exception to this was taken by the mate, but the Captain was adamant that this course would take them just south of Middle Ledge and went below to turn in.

    A short time later the vessel struck the ledge in the trough of a sea and the next sea swept five men and two dories overboard. Two, Harvey Langille and Earl Bowers managed to scramble back on board, but Captain Conrad; Wade and Carmen Bowers, were lost in the madness of the crushing seas as they swept over the rocks of the ledge.

    Little did my family know that such a tragic drama was being played out a mere three and one half nautical miles to the southwest, as they sat around the kitchen table playing cards or listening to the radio. The light faithfully made its flashes, timed to tell the passing mariners its name; flash, 5 seconds interval, flash 15 seconds interval, but it could be of no assistance now to the three men remaining on the deck of the doomed schooner.

   With what must have been unbelievable travail, the remaining men, Earl Bowers, his son, Robert Bowers and Harvey Langille, managed to clear the only remaining dory, which the raging seas had cleaned of all it's gear except one pair of oars, but as they jumped aboard, young Robert Bowers missed the dory and went into the water, he managed to swim to the dory and was hauled on board.

   The dory had been holed in several places and was, by the time they got away from the turbulence of the breakers, half filled with water. With the remnants of their clothing hanging in rags, the three started baling with their rubber boots and managed to free the little craft of water. Pulling off their woollen socks they proceeded to plug the holes as best they could.

   The three saddened and distraught fishermen commenced to row as best they were able, toward Bickerton Light, taking three hours to cover the four and one half mile course. Landing in the light station slipway, they staggered to the light house where Harvey Taylor Sr. was keeper, (Red & White store Harvey's uncle)
   Harvey of course, went to the village, (no car road then down the beach) to spread the news of the tragedy. The next morning at first light a search fleet had assembled offshore to scour the sea for the bodies of the missing fishermen, all of whom were excellent swimmers, Earl stated that he had seen the three savagely thrown against the ledge by the sea that swept them over the side. Sadly nothing was found but wreckage from the ill fated schooner. A memento of that search was visible for many years on the north and south ends of the shed on Ray Luddington's wharf. With yellow letters on a black ground that spelled "Nelson L" were the name boards of the schooner. They remained there, faded symbols of man's on going struggle with the sea, until the wharf was finally demolished (what year, Peter?)

   Earl was badly bruised and cut about the face and his son Robert suffered injury to his back and arm. They received medical attention in Sherbrooke, from where boarded a bus at 5:00 p.m., September 18, arriving in Halifax at 10:45., from whence they continued to their homes, by rail.

   The memorial service for Wade and Carmen Bowers was held in St. Paul’s Anglican Church, Cherry Hill, on October 20, conducted by the rector, Rev. V.E. Cunningham. The sermon was rendered by the pastor of LaHave Anglican church, Rev. Clark. Rev. Dr. Cunningham, of Wolfville who was visiting relatives in Petite Reviere, read the Scripture Lesson
   Captain Conrad was buried in his home town of Lunenburg.

***
   In July 1945 we were running on the land from Liscombe Ridge, in "Valma C ", a thirty-eight footer. On board was my dad, my brother Willis and my brother in law Doug Fanning. We were steering a course that we hoped would bring us within the sound of the whistle on Isaac's Harbour fairway buoy. The weather was 'black tick-a-fog' and blowing about twenty knots sou'west, with lots of breaking lop.

   We had made two stops, ten minutes apart to listen for the buoy, for we had run our time, and knew we were some where near it, in a general sense, and the boat had just got up to speed after the second stop, when Doug, who was looking out the port door of the wheel house, quickly swivelled round with a bellow of "George!!" "Starboard!!!". The breaker on the southeast rock of Middle Ledge was under our bow. My dad swung the wheel hard a-starboard, and we passed the steep side of the rock at no more than twenty feet distant. A close call; but we could now take our departure for Goose Island bell with certainty.
   At that time, the only nav-aid for Middle Ledge,a.k.a., The Sou'easter, was a black port hand can buoy, about a quarter mile to eastward of the ledge. The ledge is now marked by a lighted bell buoy south of the Breaker, and had this been the case on 17 September, 1938, the schooner "Nelson L " would not have left her bones  on it's cruel rocks.

***

    July 1958 almost twenty years after the loss of the "Nelson L"  it was shortly after day break.  A young cousin of mine was getting a salt water transfusion by going handling with me in my 28 ft. Hutt boat. We had just passed Goose Island bell. I checked my watch...... Our time should be twenty eight minutes to the Breaker.

    Powered by a big Studebaker Commander engine I had purchased from Seldy Burke, the boat was fairly fast, only trouble was the engine had no tachometer, so one had to judge the speed by the sound of the engine. At a given rpm and an accurate elapsed time, one can make a fair shot when running in the fog, that is without saying, if a true course is held.

    The morning in question was black thick and calm. The sea was smooth as glass. The tide was high, luckily for us. I checked my watch and at 27 1/2 minutes I was reaching for the throttle to cut the speed, when my cousin, Glenn Langley (a subscriber) who was leaning across the cuddy deck, looking into the depths as the boat carved the water at about 12 knots, reared back with a A-A- U- GGHH !! I looked over the side and there it was, I had centered the Breaker, and I held my breath for the few seconds it took the boat to cross the rock, with only inches under her keel. What a chilling sight, and what an adrenalin rush, waiting for the "Cheryl Ruth's" keel to fetch up.

    Although it was the nemesis of mariners, the Breaker was a good place for fish (cod) while there was still cod to be caught. Harry Hodgson liked to fish at the Breaker, as did many of the other old timers out of home. Victor Luddington fished lobster there for years, often running "Winsockie" his first lobster boat, purchased from Prest Pinkham, and "Peter L",  a Hutt boat, into the foam of the breakers of the ledge, to gaff buoys that were tailing towards the ledge.
   One can only guess at the number of ships that has come to grief on these menacing crags that barely break the oceans surface, and then only on the lowest tides. One of which we know had a happy ending in that there was no loss of life, was H.M.S. Alert (the soldier ship) and then there was the S. S. Finchley. Both ships became a total loss after striking the Breaker.

   A much sadder tale was the loss the S. S. Ealing, a British steamer that ran on the Breaker in January 1896, bitterly cold with the wind a gale from the nor'west, her crew had little chance of survival as they took to the life boats. I believe that only five were living when they made land at Canso, one of whom subsequently died, and is interred in the Anglican cemetery in that town.

   When salvage divers were working on the remains of the Ealing, they found a very large oaken keel, wedged tightly in cleft in the rock of the main ledge. There is no record of what ship that keel belongs to.

    Just clear of the ledge, on its east side, one can see when the water is clear, many millstones and grindstones of various sizes. Some of the grindstones were salvaged and used by our forefathers to sharpen their axes, before making an onslaught, on the tall timber that used to grace the hills back of our villages.