The Buckeye Went Down in a Gale—and One Passenger Almost Made It
The steamer Buckeye broke up in the Salish Sea; a rescued stockman described how shifting cattle, a swamped lifeboat, and freezing water killed H. Kautzman within sight of help.
Fairhaven, April 3.—The hull of the wrecked steamer Buckeye was picked up this afternoon by the tug J. E. Boyden, near the site of old Fort Bellingham, about six miles from the place where she went ashore at night. It has been towed here and beached. Her upper works are gone, and her boiler and engine are probably lost.
The body of H. Kautzman was found at 5:30 this evening at the mouth of Little Squalicum Creek, about two miles from here, by two boys. They told two other boys, who secured the body and brought it to this city. On the body were a diamond shirt stud, a gold watch and some money, mostly gold, sewed in the breast of his undershirt. His neck was cut by the glass in the cabin window through which he crawled to the upper deck, and there is a contusion on his head. He had the life preserver on, which kept his body afloat while it drifted with the tide about six miles from the scene of disaster. Kautzman would have been saved could he have held to the raft twenty minutes longer. He was a member of several fraternal orders, and carried life insurance. A reward of $150 had been offered by Mrs. Kautzman for his body.
August Vogt, a German stock dealer from Friday Harbor, who was in the bow with stock billed to Fairhaven, gives one of the clearest accounts of the disaster. There were five head of cattle, twenty sheep and two horses herded in the bow, and he was among them doing what he could to keep them from lurching from one side of the narrow vessel to the other. But all he could do availed little after the steamer passed Eliza Island. The wind was blowing a gale, the waves were running high, and the little vessel careened so that the live stock all lurched to the lower side and allowed the water to pour through the hatchways in such volume that she could not right herself and quickly filled. Vogt climbed to the upper deck and cut away the small boat, but made the mistake of lowering her bow foremost, so that she was swamped almost instantly. There was then only the lifeboat and life raft left. The former was carefully lowered and the captain, Owen Hahn, Engineer Snyder, the cook, fireman, Vogt, Will D. Jenkins of this city, and Mrs. Kautzman of Anacortes put off in her for the shore, about three miles distant, with Hahn and Snyder at the oars and Vogt bailing with his hat and shoes. After a hard battle with the waves for an hour and a half they reached land safely and made their way through the woods to Fairhaven.
The mate and pilot, Capt. Bowden, a steamboat man of long experience, who was at the wheel when the disaster occurred, H. Kautzman, a liquor dealer of Anacortes, and Messrs. Asher and Bennett, agriculturalists of this city, remained aboard the steamer. They soon put out the life raft and got on it, tying to the steamer until she began sinking, when they cut loose and began drifting with the wind and tide. Kautzman was soon so benumbed with cold that he could hold on no longer and fell off into the sea, the others being unable to aid him. Bowden, Bennett and Asher held on until they were rescued in an exhausted condition by the tug Boyden, about 7 o'clock. The tug Katy was also out in the gale looking for survivors and wreckage until after 11 o'clock. The Boyden tried for over two hours to tow the wreck into port, but could do nothing with her in the heavy sea.
Mr. Kautzman owned some property on Elk street here, and was accompanied by his wife to pay his taxes and visit friends. He was about 40 years old, and besides his wife leaves two children in Anacortes. Mrs. Kautzman is now with Mrs. Loux in Fairhaven, and is nearly crazed with grief. The loss on the cargo is about $500, and falls mostly upon Mr. Vogt. The value of the steamer is about $2,000, and the amount of insurance, if any, cannot be learned here.
“Kautzman would have been saved could he have held to the raft twenty minutes longer.”
The Buckeye went down in the same island-strewn waters that still carry ferries, fishing boats and freight through the Salish Sea. The story is a reminder that weather and small-vessel choices remain deadly, and that maritime disasters often turn on whether a boat is lowered correctly and who can hold on a little longer.
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