Some storms can be forecasted. Others strike with lightning swift-speed, blindsiding their victims. There are weather storms, health storms, family storms and many more varieties. The dreaded swirling dark clouds in life and viciously pounding surf cause us to reel to and fro, and we wonder if our anchor will hold in the storms of life.
American fishermen called it the “Bay” back then, but today we know it as the Gulf of St. Lawrence – a large body of water somewhat sheltered from the wide-open Atlantic Ocean. But it is still within reach of hurricane-force winds sweeping up from the warm waters of the Caribbean in early Autumn.
Weighted anchors, solid bows and sterns, strong ropes and seasoned cotton sails weren’t enough to keep the experienced fishermen safe. One hundred and seventy years later – there is still no storm in PEI’s history that has wrecked so many schooners and snuffed out so many lives as the Yankee Gale.
Painting by P. John Burden
Jigging (hand-lining) mackerel off the north coast of PEI was a lucrative business. Between July and October, New England fishermen from Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island often made three round trips loaded with barrels of salted mackerel. At that time, Islanders prided themselves in their agricultural prowess, not their fishing economic exploits. There wasn’t one lighthouse from North Cape to East Point. Yes, there were safe harbours, but generally, wharves did not exist. A farming-first attitude prevailed for economic development.
New England Schooners off the North Shore of Prince Edward Island
The American mackerel fleet averaged over 650 vessels and 5000 crew. (1)
A Saint John, New Brunswick newspaper described the view from shore-to-sea Islanders witnessed every summer evening.
“At night, when the fleet is safely anchored, the lanterns lighted on each vessel and swinging from the shrouds, one may fancy himself looking upon some huge city lying in repose, with its lamps all trimmed and burning…”
On Friday, October 03, 1851, around 4 PM, fishermen noticed a glassy calm settle over the water along the shallow waters of the north shore of PEI. The gale was blowing from the northeast by dusk, whipping up devastating surf accompanied by pounding rain. The hurricane-force winds created irregular wave patterns hiding dangerous rogue waves known as ship-killers. It raged for two days.
By Sunday afternoon, Islanders started making their way to the north shore from Cable Head to Tignish to see how the fishermen fared during the storm. The tragedy could not be overstated. Malpeque, Cavendish, Rustico, Brackley, and other well-known Island beaches had become graveyards. Corpses were strewn along the beaches – along with broken masts, shredded cotton sails, barrels of mackerel, boots, boxes and other belongings.
North Coast of Prince Edward Island
Just a few days earlier, 1500 fishermen from 250 New England schooners had come ashore at Princetown to participate in the festivities of an agricultural fair. But the good times were about to end abruptly.
Over 120 vessels were wrecked, and more than 250 fishermen died in the Yankee Gale. During the ensuing weeks and months, there were many broken hearts and sad stories to share as bodies continued to come ashore.
From an engraving reproduced in Roland H. Sherwood’s “The Wind that Made Them Widows” – 1968
One such story is as follows:
Thirty-year-old Terence Goodwin from Eliot, Maine, was on the Schooner Statesman that met its fate in Malpeque Bay. All onboard were lost. A young man’s body washed up on the beach and was later buried in a New London cemetery. James Goodwin was anxious to know if it might be the body of his son. He sent a letter describing his son and identifiable markings. He wrote: “my son’s age was about thirty, but had a young look… he was five feet eight inches in height.” He also provided a detailed list of clothing he left home with – including his socks and underwear, and mittens. He ended his letter with this:
“…if it should prove to be his poor body, it is my intention to come down the last of May, or first of June after it, and I will see you satisfied for your trouble. Or, if you can hear of any body having come onshore, and been buried answering this description, do, my good sir, write me, and you will get the prayers of an afflicted family for your health and prosperity in this life and a blest immortality beyond the grave. And if you should get any information about this body, and should write me, would you point out the most easy, safe [travel] route to your place…” (2)
In May 1852, seven months after the Yankee Gale, James Goodwin received a reply from PEI – confirming that the young man buried in the New London cemetery matched the description he provided.
Yankee Gale memorial stones can still be seen on PEI. But it is now a distant memory – a dark thread in the fabric of PEI and New England history. No one laments the loss as they drink their coffee today at Tim Hortons or Starbucks. Society has moved on.
The dreams and hopes, and lives of hundreds were snuffed out. But time marches on. Life is like that – regardless of the nature of the storm.
Spiritual Insights
One might ask how many schooners were built to survive such gales and how many fishermen were prepared for a hurricane-force storm. But an even more searching question is – how many were spiritually prepared for death – the mother of all storms?
While the past cannot be altered, the present can. Someone reading this may not yet be prepared to meet their God – not yet securely anchored and spiritually safe. Not all storms are in the forecast. Some seem to come out of nowhere. Are you securely anchored?
Some people anchor their lives to their dreams, their family, their career or their success. The anchor for others seems to be their church or their religion. For some, their anchor is nothing more than their perspective and philosophy on life. When the gales of adversity blow and their success goes south, or a scandal erupts in their church or their dreams are obliterated – they are swamped.
Worse still – when life’s most feared storm strikes, their inadequate and unreliable anchor will result in a catastrophe of eternal proportions when they take their last breath.
The Bible presents the Lord Jesus Christ as the Saviour for all sinners. There is safety and security in Him. At the risk of mixing metaphors, He is both the safe harbour and the solid anchor one needs in the storms of life and death.
For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. John 3:16
There is indescribable peace, comfort and confidence in knowing that one is safe in Christ. However, outside of Christ, a person is vulnerable and has no secure hope to anchor their soul.
A Christian’s confidence in Christ is like an anchor. Jesus not only died for our sins but He was also raised again from the dead and has returned to Heaven. He has entered into God’s inner sanctuary.
“…We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain. Jesus has entered there on our behalf…” Hebrews 6:19-20
The only tragedy worse than the loss of life is the loss of one’s eternal soul.
Priscilla Jane Owens, from Baltimore, Maryland, taught in the public school system for 49 years. During that time, she also worked with youth as a Sunday School teacher. She saw young lives with great potential but prayed that their lives would be anchored in Christ. For the many storms they would encounter in life, they needed an anchor for their soul that was firm and secure. She was a prolific songwriter. With these young people on her heart, she wrote this hymn that has become a Christian classic for 150+ years. Listen to J. Ashley Milne Jr.’s rendition of “Will Your Anchor Hold”.
Sources:
- The Yankee Gale by Edward MacDonald
- http://www.islandregister.com/yankeegale.html