The Eppleton Hall Encounters a Gale
By Scott Newhall As voyagers gather in Clio's manor hall, to tell of tall deeds and ventures made across wide seas, who shall sing of the voyage of a Tyneside paddle-wheel tug from her North of England birthplace, across 11, 000 miles of ocean, to San Francisco? Who but the man who conceived and carried out the act, Scott New hall? For this oceanic voyage by a harbor tug, accomplished under steam, under sail, and a little under oars, in the years of our Lord 1969-70, Newhall ga thered one of the more remarkable crews to come together since the Argo sailed unde r Jason 's command. Their characters shine forih in this excerpt Ji-om Ne1vhal/'s book about th e voyage. Those memories live again, and will while men follow tall deeds at sea, in New hall 's "true and faithful narrative," The Eppleton Hall, which is available from the San Francisco Maritime Museum, Foot of Polk Street, San Francosco, Ca 94109 for $6.95 1/ you stop in, or$8.00 by post. The ship herself? She steams San Francisco Bay today, as recounted elsewhere in this issue of SEA HISTORY, doing her wo rk now for the San Francisco Maritime Museum, whose president, Scott Newhall, feels it right that no w and then a sea museum put to sea. Š Copyright 1971 by Howe ll-North Books, Be rkely, CA 94710
SEA HISTORY , SUMMER 1977
Finishing her epic 11, 000-mi/e voyage, the "brave, invincible tug" steams into the Golden Gate. Photo: Scott Nicoll
The fueling, as always, was finally finished, including the drums on deck, and the Epp/eton Hall steamed sluggishly out past the Manzanillo breakwater and headed up the last stretch of tropical Mexican coast for San Diego, approximately 1300 miles to the north. By this time, the Eppleton Hall's company was showing signs of channel fever. Assured by the Captain that nowhere in the world was the weather more constant nor the winds more predictable at this time of year, the deck crew did not even bother to lash the fuel drums to the ship's rails. For one entire day, sure enough, the weather was salubrious and the Eppleton Hall slogged on past some of the most beautiful beaches in the world, on her course toward Cabo Corrientes. Next day, however, the gods of wind and sea decided to teach the overconfident tug a lesson. With the Chief Engineer out of action with his gastrointestinal ailment, and Kip Waldo, the Second Officer, laid low as well, the most furious gale of the entire voyage swept down from the north, smashing at the Eppleton Hall, which was riding deep in the water with her fuel tanks and heavy deckload. Unbelievably, within a few hours, the wind was so frightful that, under full power, the tug could not even force her bow around against the tempest and change course. The waves were simply too huge and the wind too fierce. The rigging was
shrieking and moaning in the gale, and the situation soon deteriorated even further. In the heavy seas, huge amounts of water spurted into the engine-room bilges through the paddle shaft glands. The vessel was covered by spray and slop, and then solid sheets of water from the enormous breaking waves. The unlashed drums began to tumble over and some of them rolled around the deck. Eventually they were jammed fairly well together and blocked temporarily.
"Some of the crew . .. suspected their time had finally run out." It was at this moment, with the Eppleton Hall laboring more doggedly than ever before during the preceding 9000 miles, that a steam gasket in the water injection valve of the port boiler chose to disintegrate, filling the engine room completely with live steam in a matter of seconds. The safety valves on the starboard boiler were tripped and all pressure released. After the water had been blown out of the boiler far enough so that the water feed lines could be disconnected and a new gasket installed, the furnace fires were shut off and the Eppleton Hall became a drifting hulk in heavy, smashing full gale (the wind 41