To the editor: 

In this age of marine travel, with the electronics, radar and sounding machines, just about every shipwreck can be blamed on human error.

In the days of sail, the wind had control of the course.  This is the story of the Hilda Garston.” She was a steel scalloper out of New Bedford. The captain was “Frenchy,” a good friend who, at an earlier time, was captain of the Wily Fox,  a high-liner for Prelude Corp.  He brought in the most poundage of lobsters in one trip  —  40,000 pounds.

Frenchy had found a huge bed of scallops near Block Island and the crew worked long hours to fill the hold with 14,000 pounds of scallops.   Fully loaded, they set course for Buzzard’s Bay  and New Bedford.  Entering the bay, the ship suddenly struck something (south of Gooseberry Neck off Westport) which resulted in water pouring into the hull. 

After sending a mayday to Woods Hole, the crew launched two dories and started rowing in the direction of land.  This accident happened on February 18, 1961, which was certainly a cold night.

The next day, the Frederick Lee, sister ship to the Garston, left New Bedford with Captain Brad Luther, New England’s number one scuba diver, and his crew to look for the sunken vessel, but the sounder was not working . 

The insurance company had hired the party boat Capt. Leroy to search as well.  Brad and his men went aboard  the Leroy.  While they were searching, the tanker Regent was entering the Bay. The captain of the tanker called the Coast Guard to report he had just struck something in the bay channel.  He also called the Leroy and asked if they were  looking for a submerged object.  It was the Garston’s mast that the ship had hit.  

After an underwater exam it was decided to not raise the Hilda Garston.  Hitting a rock or ledge had torn a propeller strut from the boat which left a large hole.

I am sure that the work-tired helmsman fell asleep.  On our own boat we had a “watch alarm.” The man at the wheel had to push a button within seven minutes or a large horn would blast the sleeping crew out of their bunks.  And of course the man at the wheel would be thrown overboard.

Carlton “Cukie” Macomber

Westport