Two Black Men Set Out for a Kitsap Farm and Never Arrived
Charles Washington had saved to buy a ranch and marry the woman he left behind. He and friend S. W. Smith sailed from Seattle into Puget Sound—and vanished.
It has just come to light that Charles Washington and S. W. Smith, both Black men, were drowned in the Sound on the 2d or 3d of March. They left this city in a small sailboat on one of those days for Seabold, Kitsap County, where Washington owned a ranch.
Washington came to Seattle about five months since. Before he came here he was a resident of Grand Forks, North Dakota, for ten years, and had worked continuously for the last three years as a horse-trainer for a prominent horseman of that city. He was a steady man and saved his money. Shortly after Washington's arrival in Seattle he secured employment at the Rainier-Grand in the capacity of elevator and bellboy. Washington was a handsome, companionable fellow, obliging to the guests, steady, sober and reliable, and was soon a favorite around the house. When he left his home in the East he left behind him a handsome and vivacious young Black woman, who had promised to become his wife. It was his ambition to secure a home so that he could marry the girl he left behind and settle down and enjoy life. With this end in view he purchased, about two months since, a ranch in Kitsap County, paying therefor the sum of $750. The farm consisted of some twenty acres of cleared land, with house, barn and other appurtenances, and was in a high state of cultivation.
Smith, who was an old friend of Washington's, was at Grand Forks, North Dakota, when Washington purchased the farm, and he wrote to him to come to this state in order to help cultivate the place. Smith arrived in this city shortly before, and on the 1st of March Washington quit his place at the Rainier-Grand for the purpose of going to his farm to live. About two weeks previous to this Washington had purchased a sailboat for himself and had caused it to be hauled out on the Oregon Improvement Company's dock in order to have it painted. The boat was of about a ton and a half capacity and was sloop-rigged. Washington purchased a pushcart, a lot of agricultural implements and a supply of provisions and loaded them on the boat. It is not known to a certainty whether it was on the 2d or 3d of the month when Washington and Smith left this city for the Kitsap County farm in the boat. It is certain that they started, and it is equally certain that they never reached their destination.
After Washington purchased the farm he placed it in charge of Peter Johnson, and the latter has been on the place ever since. A few days since Johnson came to this city and began to make inquiries for Washington. He said that Washington had promised to come to the ranch early in the month and failed to put in an appearance. An investigation was begun and the facts as above stated were learned.
Inquiry at the weather bureau revealed that the wind was not heavy either on the 2d or 3d of March. On the 2d the wind reached a velocity of only ten miles an hour, which increased during the night until a speed of fifteen miles an hour was reached. On the 3d the highest velocity attained by the wind was nine miles an hour. At no time during the two days did the wind attain a sufficient speed to capsize a skillfully managed sailboat. The friends of the two men say that they knew little or nothing about managing a sailboat, and it is more than probable that they lost their lives through a lack of skill, and not because of stress of weather.
Washington had money with him when he left Seattle, but it is not thought that he met with foul play.
“It is certain that they started, and it is equally certain that they never reached their destination.”
Washington's story is a reminder that Black homesteaders and laborers were part of the late-19th-century Puget Sound economy, not marginal figures. His death also shows how thin the margin was: a small boat, a new farm and a saved-up future could disappear in a single squall.
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.