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The Morrell Survey: Part Two
By Roland Schultz |
The search for the wreck of the Morrell began the first week of January 1967, with my ship, the Bramble, being tasked as the survey vessel. As with most ships that have gone missing, the search began ashore, reviewing a mountain of data compiled from last radio contacts, weather reports of wind direction and velocity at the assumed time of sinking, wave conditions, and hydrographic studies and tables of drift and currents of lower Lake Huron. From this bathometric science and a certain degree of "dart throwing," a datum position was determined off the Thumb of Michigan.
All of this still amounted to little better than finding that needle in a haystack. The Bramble arrived at the calculated wreck position on a calm, clear winter morning, approximately 20 miles north-northeast of the Thumb. Help soon came from above. Drawing upon the resources of the Navy, a P-3 Oriona MAD (magnetic anomaly detection) aircraft, used for the locating and tracking of submarines, arrived on scene to help narrow the search. Initial operations began with the plane buzzing the ship, which temporarily created an aluminum overcast with its passage. This was the Navy's standard method of telling its little brother (the USCG), "Had this been a shooting war, you'd be dead by now!"
With radio communications established, the search that followed was remarkably brief. Following approximately 15 to 20 minutes of flying a grid, the P-3s transmitted to the Bramble, "Over there...off your port bow, bearing 340 degrees 4.2 miles, with a lesser contact five miles NNE of primary," as if they were calling in the results of rather boring exercise. Although professional in their delivery, the ho-hum attitude seemed to convey, "Next time you call us, have something a little more challenging."
Some years later, Robert Ballard would refer the many hours of searching for the Titanic while towing a sonar sensor as "mowing the lawn." In 1967, such a concept was yet to be conceived. Locating the exact position of the Morrell's remains rested solely upon an antiquated paper graph recording fathometer that was standard equipment aboard the 180-class cutters, much like a depth indicator on today's yachts. An irregularity on the lakebed could only be determined by a direct transit over the site. In comparison to Ballard's side-scan sonar trolling, we were attempting to trim a golf course with pruning shears.
With the belief that the primary magnetic contact would be the aft section of the vessel, the decision was made to focus the search on this part of the ship. Surprisingly, after but three days of slowly steaming in squares, rectangles and circles, a bottom irregularity was bracketed that gave great promise to be what we were attempting to locate.
It must be remembered that this location is considered the "Graveyard of Lake Huron." The nearby northern tip of the Thumb, Point aux Barques, has often been referred to as the "Point of Arks," as a result of the many ships wrecked in this locale. The possibility of this contact being the Morrell was about as likely as it being the Henry B. Smith, the Leafield, the James C. Carruthers, the Hydrus, or possibly the barge Plymouth. All of these vessels had gone missing during that 1913 gale of November and had yet to be discovered.
With today's technology, research vessels have the ability to hold position over wrecks automatically with multiple thrusters and GPS interface. In '67, maintaining a fixed position in open water rested upon talent and seamanship. A fixed position could only be obtained by establishing a four-point moor in 220 feet of water in a vessel having a single screw and rudder.
For the initial survey, the lead team from Ocean Systems had brought aboard a remote-controlled camera with spot lighting, mounted within a stage to be hung from the ship's boom. Maneuvering was controlled by the warping of mooring lines and the swing of the boom through a limited arc, with depth controlled by the playing out of cable attached to the stage.
Remarkably, within minutes of being deployed over the side, an image of a vertical wall materialized on the black-and-white TV monitor within the Bramble's chart room, which had been configured as the control room. Those of us known as the "bridge gang" had suddenly invented reasons to be present in this small compartment, watching in silent awe as the operator panned the camera about the riveted hull of a ship.
While initially fascinating, the excitement of the discovery was shortlived, as it opened a host of questions that until now had been given little consideration, the foremost being, "Exactly what would provide a positive identification to distinguish this wreck as the Morrell?"
By pure luck, the initial deployment of the camera arrived at a point just off the extreme port quarter of the ship's stern. With the natural tendency of western culture to read from left to right, the camera operator requested a minor warping of the ship's position, to move the camera stage further to starboard.
The action that followed this maneuver could not have been better choreographed had it been from a Hollywood Script. As the camera operator panned the camera about this new section of the hull, distinct white letters came into focus, reveling the name: D-A-N-I-E-L- J- M-O-R-R-E-L-L. The camera stage had come to be physically suspended just below the main deck trained directly upon the stern of the wreck. On January 6th 1967, within 30 minutes of the camera being deployed over the side, positive I.D. of the Morrell had been made. The initial phase of the Morrell Survey was complete. The site would now be marked with a wreck buoy, for the purpose of forthcoming diving operations.
Setting a buoy in 220 feet of water presents certain degree of complications - which are seldom experienced - in comparison to those that mark a channel or shoal area. While a standard nun or can buoy is normally anchored to a 5,000-pound cement sinker attached by 11/4-inch chain at 1700 pounds per shot (90 feet of chain), a single buoy in this event would be supporting approximately 4700 pounds of chain, sufficient to sink the marker by just her tether alone. To relieve this weight, a secondary nun buoy would be spliced midpoint in the mooring to assist in carrying the load.
With approximately 250 feet of chain carefully laid out on the buoy deck of the Bramble, attached to two separate buoys and a 5,000-pound cement sinker hanging from the starboard chain stopper, Chief Boatswains Mate Robert Lucas paused to check that the deck was clear of obstructions and personnel prior to tripping the release. Chain having this amount of length and weight tends to develop an almost lifelike aspect as its momentum builds into a radical and dangerous transit as it snakes its way overboard.
Lucas would later claim that he had timed the chain's release to set the sinker in the hold of the Morrell. While in fact true, it would not be realized until some 35 years later, as within days of its commissioning, every trace of this buoy ever having been set had disappeared from the surface of Lake Huron, much like the Morrell herself.
With the return of the Bramble to Coast Guard Base Detroit, Ocean Systems Inc. commenced the transformation of the ship for usage as a diving platform. With the arrival of personnel and equipment for this forthcoming task, it was evident that this would be no haphazard operation. Their professionalism was obvious, and their actions demonstrated a knowledge based upon experience and respect for the conditions that they worked under. Items such as compressors, tool cribs, cutting equipment and a decompression chamber were welded directly to the deck as if they were to become permanent fixtures of the ship. The term "secured for sea" seemed to take on a new meaning.
Sailing January 14, 1967 for the Morrell wreck site, the Bramble arrived the following morning at the location of the wreck buoy that had been set a week earlier. But, be it from a broken mooring or having been sunk from collision, leakage or crushed by ice, the lake was totally absent of any evidence that this black can buoy ever existed.
Although the coordinates of her location were now known, it would take more than a day to once again be exactly positioned over her aft section and commence the lengthy process of establishing a four-point moor.
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