Excerpt from Three Centuries On Winnipesaukee by Paul H. Blaisdell
The boats that figure in the speed contests are those which contribute to the adventure surrounding the storms which stand out in memory as being the worst ever encountered on the lake. This is particularly true of the famous hurricane of the early 1900's which, in the minds of the boatmen who experienced it and are living today, takes first place among the Winnipesaukee tales of stormy seas.
Several outstanding events of this particular storm will remain forever in the annals of the "big lake." It was a northwester, coming with terrible suddenness down out of the mountains. It gave ample warning as the storm clouds gathered, but all believed it to be just another hard thunder-shower that, though intense, would pass quickly. Picture for yourselves the positions of several steamboats on the lake just before the storm unleashed its fury.
The "Mount Washington" was coming up from Wolfeboro and was near Sandy Island, in a position to take the waves "on the bow quarter." The "Carroll" was approaching Union Landing, having passed Chase's Point and due to continue past Melvin and Chase's Islands to the landing. Thus the "Carroll"
was less exposed to the force of the storm, being slightly in the lee of several islands. The "Maid of the Isles" was about to round Governor's Island and head in to Weirs between Governor's and Eagle, being, like the "Mount Washington," exposed to the full sweep of the wind.
Whereas at one second the wind and rain were at a distance, coming down the lake, at another the blast had struck. Moses Warren was piloting the "Mount," and when the big boat began to bury her bow under each wave, he realized that this was more than the ordinary shower. In an effort to meet the storm from a better direction he attempted to turn the boat about and "ride with the wind," but in the turn the ship laid over on her side until water poured across her deck. Before the turn was completed, a gigantic wave and gust of wind had taken away a large section of the port wheel-house. Finally the "Mount" rode with the waves, and continued to hold that position until the storm subsided. The "Carroll" had an easier experience for herself, but what her passengers and crew saw happen was sufficient evidence of her narrow escape. When the wind and rain arrived, the "Carroll's" captain and pilot, realizing their intensity, stopped the boat and managed to hold her position. Everything was shut off from their view. When the storm began, Chase's Island was just ahead of them, a thickly timbered, verdant island. When the rain abated, and the island could be seen again, not a single piece of that timber remained standing.
The "Maid of the Isles" had reached Eagle Island narrows when the storm struck, for those on shore at Weirs who were waiting for the boat plainly saw her come around the end of Governor's and pass between the islands—then the rain and wind shut out all view. A few minutes later, when the visibility brought the entire Weirs Bay into range, the "Maid" was nowhere to be seen, and those who had watched her start across the bay shouted the alarm throughout Weirs and frantically notified authorities at Laconia that the "Maid of the Isles" had gone down in the storm with "all hands on board." Such was not the case, however, for the wind in The Weirs Bay had not come from one direction, and the "Maid," buffeted by a gale from all quarters, had been driven, in those few minutes, about two miles off her course. When Captain Blackstone and his pilot got their first sight of land after the rain passed, they found themselves in the shadow of the hill on the northwest side of Meredith Bay, well in near shore. They soon steamed down the lake to Weirs, only to find the distracted crowds making plans for the recovery of the boat, its passengers and crew, from their supposed watery grave.
Survey after the storm indicated that its greatest intensity passed in a narrow belt from Center Harbor down over Moultonboro Neck, across the north tip of Long Island and the many islands to the east, and away from the lake south of Union Landing. The whole storm had a path ten miles wide, and anywhere in that path had been dangerous. A water-spout arose from the lake near Moultonboro Neck, came on land and tore timberlots to shreds before it broke up.
Such was the course of this great storm, and there has evidently not been one like it before or since. True, the smokestack was blown clear from the steamer "Winnipesaukee" at one time, and high winds and storms still buffet boats both large and small, but the concentrated force of this hurricane has yet to have an equal.
From this I do not want anyone to deduce that Winnipesaukee is a "tame" place during a strong wind. Waves running from four to ten feet in height are seen each year. I remember crossing "The Broads" in an open boat in 1915 when, for fear I might be washed overboard, I was tied to a chair that was built into the boat hull. The grown-ups certainly trusted both boat and pilot, and I will avow even today that the trip from Sandy Island to Jolly Island in that northwest wind was a rugged introduction to Winnipesaukee's angriest waves. I have since been told that people on Steamboat and Birch Islands watched our progress with the firm belief that after each time the boat disappeared in the trough of the waves it would never be seen again.
Probably the roughest spot with the highest waves in a northwester is at Parker's Island, where the full sweep of open water has given ample space to pile up the "rollers." Unlike the immense "swells" of the sea, though, the waves on the lake are nearer together and more sharply pointed. After every fifth wave there is a lull. In this calm the wise lake navigator makes his turns and course changes during a "blow."
The northwester brings the worst water conditions on Winnipesaukee. With Parker's Island other noted bad spots during such a wind are from Sandy to Jolly Islands, Winter Harbor to Rattlesnake Island, Weirs Bay from Eagle Island to The Weirs, Melvin Bay from Black Island to Melvin Village, and the entire lower end of the lake from Barndoor Island to Little Mark Island. It must be said that these northwest blows seldom come without warning, and when the waves run high in the sheltered places, it is almost certain that navigation will have its difficulties in the open water. Then, too, a northwester is almost certain of three days duration; even though the wind "goes down with the sun" each night, it generally springs up with the first streak of dawn.
The same judgment that prevents one from taking a chance in his automobile will stand in good stead while navigating on Winnipesaukee. There are times when a boat is better kept in its boathouse or at its dock. The sudden storm we cannot foresee. Then we must use our skill to ride it out, but, in all conditions, good judgment is a prime requisite of the Winnipesaukee navigator.