The Night They Walked to an Indian Village: A Shipwreck Survivor’s Tale
After the steamer *Port Gordon* smashed against rocks near Destruction Island, four men survived a nightmare of broken lines and drowning comrades by building a raft from hatches—and then walking ten miles through the brush.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
The wreck of the steamer Port Gordon has been fully reported. Following is a thrilling narrative received from the mate of the stranded ship:
The crew went ashore at 6:30 p.m. this evening in thick fog; they had no idea of their position on the chart. They struck the wall about two fathoms below Destruction Island, setting west head first. The vessel, loaded with pig iron, broke up soon after.
There was a big sea, and one boat containing four men was crushed. The mate and 14 men arrived on the beach. A raft started for Tacoma via Gray Harbor.
News of the wreck was brought to Seattle by mailboat from Neah Bay. The steamer Sea Lion picked up the men at Neah Bay; they coming out in canoes. Among the lost are the cook and steward.
The mate of the Fort Gordon made a formal report to the British consul, but declined to give the same to the public, preferring to leave that to the captain.
To our very intelligent sailor who came in on the Sea Lion the following thrilling story is attested by the local news correspondent:
"The vessel struck about 3 a.m. and the very first breaker swept the deck, carrying away boats, cabin, and everything else remaining the vessel was held to port, and the only place where the men could survive was on the starboard side of the forecastle, and that with great difficulty.
'One seaman, a Mexican, volunteered to swim ashore with a line, and lost his life in the attempt.'
'It was almost high water when the vessel struck. About 1 p.m., at dead low tide, a raft was constructed by lashing four hatches together. Two men paddled the raft to the shore, about four ship lengths away, carrying a line with them. While another line ran back to the ship, in this way two men at a time reached the beach. Twice the line broke, and was replaced after great trouble.
'One man fell off the raft and was drowned in the breakers. The cook and steward died from exposure a few moments after reaching shore; indeed, the cook was dead before he reached land.'
'The names of the men are Matthew Campbell of Greenock; Valentine, the cook; Mackie and Murphy.'
The last man reached shore about dark, when the line attached to the raft parted. Capt. Gibbs, who had not yet left the ship, had to stay all night in the foretop.
He was rescued next day by Indiana, but what manner the sailors are unable to say as they could not understand the Chinook language, which the Indiana spoke.
'The men camped in the brush that night, and next day walked to an Indian village near Neah Bay, 10 miles distant.'
The ship's back broke about the middle. But the man was standing when the men left the scene. Nothing reliable can be stated as to how the ship happened to be in such a dangerous condition, but it is thought that owing to the thick weather the master had no means of knowing his position. The cargo consisted of 500 tons of pig iron and about 400,000 feet lumber, consigned to Balfoar, Mathie & Co. Dead valued at $25,000.
In an era before GPS and reliable radio communication, maritime disasters were often defined by isolation and the sheer physical endurance required for survival. This story highlights the precariousness of life in the Pacific Northwest’s coastal waters, where a single navigational error in thick fog could lead to tragedy, yet also to remarkable acts of human cooperation and resilience that echo modern search-and-rescue efforts.
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