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Good morning, Oregon, and happy Friday!
I'm Finn J.D. John, if J. at offbeatorgan.com, and this is the Daily Offbeat Oregon History
podcast.
Thanks for joining me, and I hope you enjoy the show today.
This story was first published on May 10th of 2015, under the headline, Stormtost Ships
shared a double date with Destiny.
Here we go.
December of 1852 was a rough month on the Oregon coast in more ways than one.
It was one of those years when storm systems chased each other across the sky one right
after another for weeks on end, lashing the surf into towering foamy lather and filling
the Columbia River Bar with 40-foot tall walls of green water.
Outside the bar's entrance, being tossed about mercilessly by the cereal storms, a small
cluster of sailing ships tacked back and forth or roaded anchor.
They'd come from San Francisco working the new and profitable run back and forth to Portland
to fetch supplies for the hordes of eager miners still working the gold rush diggers.
Of all the waiting vessels, the Bark Mendora had been there the longest, four solid weeks.
Its crew had spent Christmas being tossed around on the sea, wet and cold, thinking longingly
of the warmth and seasonal cheer being enjoyed a few miles away in Astoria.
By January 12th, 1853, the cupboards in the ship's galley were almost bare, and the captain
was rationing the hard tack and beans.
Water too was running short, as were tempers among the crew members.
The Mendora's skipper, George Staples, was getting desperate, but the day had dawned and
it was finally calm.
The worst weather of the year had, it seemed, blown itself out.
Captain Staples lost no time in giving the order to trim up the sails for the crossing
and then fall off the wind and head inland.
At least one other ship waiting there on the seaword side of the bar soon followed suit.
That would be the Bark Eye Marithu, also out of San Francisco.
In fact, the Mendora and the Eye Marithu had been docked side by side in San Francisco
the month before, being loaded for their respective journeys to Portland.
The Marithu had left a few days after the Mendora so it had not been stuck waiting quite
as long, but its crew's Christmas experience had been similar, and its stocks of food
stuffs were also running out.
Unfortunately, those would not be the only things the crews of these two ships would share.
The Mendora and the Marithu had a double date with Destiny.
They would follow almost the exact same path on the exact same day with the same results
and lay their bones within a few miles of one another on the same shores of what's
now Washington State.
The trouble started with the Mendora, which was beating across the usual southwest wind
making about four knots when she suddenly slipped into one of the elusive unpredictable
wind shadows with which the bar was plagued.
Instantly a drift with drooping canvas and at the mercy of the river's current, the ship
started drifting to port with alarming rapidity, making for the middle sands.
Desperately the crew dropped anchor, but the current was so fast and the bottom's so
sandy that the Mendora was merely slowed down by this.
Slowly, inexorably, dragging her anchor behind her, she drifted toward the middle sands
and slammed onto the shoals.
Like a swordsman delivering the coup de gras, the ocean now struck with full force.
A series of giant, foam-topped breakers thundered down on the Mendora's deck, sweeping
them clear of everything movable, smashing deck houses, flooding the fossil.
With remarkable discipline, the crew members stuck to their stations until Captain Staples
gave the order to abandon ship.
Chances are he was waiting for the tide to turn so that the seas would be more manageable.
When the time was right, they quickly got the lifeboat ready.
Somehow it had been spared the ravages of the boarding seas and launched it.
The boat was badly overloaded, the weather was freshening and the bar was still rough.
Wave after waves sloshed over the gunnels of the little open boat, eager hands bailed
it out, barely keeping up as the darkness closed in on them.
At the ores, sailors took turns pulling dotally, driving the little boat upriver all the
way to Astoria.
Hours later, backs aching and muscles taxed to the limit, they finally arrived.
Soon they were stretched out on the floor of the town hall around a glowing wood stove,
drinking in the warmth and sleeping like man in a coma.
They couldn't know it yet, but they weren't alone.
Even as they rode desperately toward Astoria, the crew of the Marithew was scrambling for
its own lifeboats.
The Marithew hadn't even made it as far as the Mendoora when it had run aground, unclats
up spit.
The next day, Captain Staples got the bar pilot to bring them out to survey the wreckage
and perhaps consider any salvage possibilities.
To their astonishment, the Mariners found only an empty stretch of sand where the wreck
had stood.
Over the evening, the tide had come in and worked the vessel free and abandoned and unmanned
and derelicted it had floated with the river's current out into the ocean again.
Nor was there any remaining sign of the Marithew.
It too had relaunched itself, abandoning all hands on the beach.
A few days later, the wreckage of the Marithew was found.
It had drifted back into shore and been dashed against the rocks near North Head on the
Washington side of the river's mouth.
The Mendoora drifted farther, a day or two later it arrived through the surf just a few
miles to the North near Shoalwater Bay and stranded itself on the beach there.
No one was killed in either shipwreck.
Both were total losses.
It was an odd coincidence this double date with Destiny which these two ships had embarked
on when they sailed through the Golden Gate a month before, but its conclusion certainly
could have been a whole lot worse.
Key sources in this story have included works by James Gibbs Jr. and Don Marshall.
Well that's our show for today.
This again for listening, and by the way, if you haven't yet, check out our offbeat
Oregon books.
There are a lot like these columns only expanded and updated to take advantage of a less
restrictive format.
We've got heroes and rascals of Old Oregon, love sex and murder in Old Oregon, bad ideas
and horrible people in Old Oregon, and eventually the plan is for eight of them to be out, although
how many there are out right now depends on when you hear this.
There are a lot of fun and would look great on your bookshelf.
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So now it's time for you and me both to go out there and fill up the rest of the day
and the weekend with good stuff.
Bye now.



