The Glory Wreck

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee.
“The Cremation of Sam McGee” ~ Robert W. Service

The chosen wreck was the unidentified Glory Wreck, also known as the Gloria and some believe it to be the Kennebec while others say the Lake Frampton. Heck, I thought I had not been on it before and that proved to be wrong also…..

The "Glory Wreck", at 70 fsw, is a twisted mass of hull plates and steel spread over a wide area on a sandy bottom and there are usually artifacts and lobsters found.

She is possibly the remains of the Kennebec, a freighter named after a county and river in Maine which sank June 18, 1921, after springing a leak.

Or she might be the Lake Frampton, a tanker, which sank after a collision with the steamship the SS Comus on July 12, 1920.

Since there was no GPS back then, until the telltale artifact is discovered we will not know.
The night before, we watched the forecast as it was in a state of constant change and awoke in the morning to…..dark. It is dark at 5:30AM! By the time we arrived at the dock, the sun was peaking out and it was 50F and the start of a promising day. Captain Bill arrived bundled up like Sir Edmund Hillary and welcoming divers as only he can, and I was reminded why I enjoy diving this boat.

The Captain, Mark and I were joined by Brandon, whose voice reminds me of…nevermind, and Stefan, and spear fishing Bill, who I have dived from the Seazure with before. We loaded onboard and prepared for the ride out. The Seazure is quick, very quick and as we left the bay the swells built up and for a moment we bounced from the top of one to the other. Captain Bill slowed us down a bit and smoothed out the ride and we still quickly arrived at the dive site.

The air was warming up and the seas had rolling swells with wide troughs between them. The top layer of water was clear and the diving looked very promising. Brandon had answered a barrage of questions on his new rebreather on the ride out and he now readied to drop down and tie us in. While we waited the captain spotted a whale off of the bow, surfacing and spouting a huge stream of water. He disappeared again below the surface and a few minutes later the bottle was up and we were gearing to drop in.

I gave Captain Bill a bag of pistachios to keep him busy and not raiding our coolers as he often threatens to do when left alone topside and then followed Marks lead on the knee drop over the side. While I did it, I can tell you it involved neither grace nor agility.

We headed on down the line and arrived to find 10-15 feet of visibility which was a welcome sight considering the amount of rain and storming it had done the day before. Mark tied off his reel and we headed on out, first following a line of debris which quickly dead ended and then moving out along the boiler s. Tucked inside we could see several reasonably sized tautog and sea bass swimming about. As we neared the end of the boilers the fish became noticeably smaller in size and there were but a few starfish scattered about. While the water was still around 44F, you could tell it was winter and a good portion of the sea life was off vacationing in Boca for the winter.

We turned around and at the tie in there was Bills spear gun, planted in the sand ready to be retrieved on the way up the line. We headed on out in the other direction and came across several broken and abandoned traps with no locals errantly trapped inside and the wreck provided a fairly intact portion with some wide openings and lots of peekholes to look in.

All through the dive there had been a strong surge around the wreckage and by this time it was taking its toll on our energy level and was noticeable in our air supply so we turned the dive and headed on up before the cold caught up with us too. During our hang, Mark kept motioning to listen as he thought he heard the whales off in the distance. I had busied myself watching a purge of bubbles coming up from below us and really wasn’t paying enough attention to say.

As each diver arrived topside, they had their wreck story to tell. Bill had a problem with the bands on his gun and abandoned it to poke around for lobster, Stephan found himself some ships hardware, Brandon did a marathon dive and we were the sightseers reporting back the sights and condition of the wreck and its landmarks. We ate and laughed, telling jokes and stories and Stephan entertained us with a rousing rendition of the poem “ The Cremation of Sam McGee” replete with dramatic renderings, assorted character voices and accents.

During the surface interval the seas laid down quite a bit to almost flat and although the sun was shining I got chilled and couldn’t loose it. While I was going in for the second dive, I knew it would be a short one.

I rolled over and dropped down and we again headed out, this time checking out the scattered hull plates and some other machinery with rather large gears which looked more like truck tires. The visibility had dropped remarkably and the surge was in full force. I began to really feel the cold and motioned up and we headed on back and up.

At the surface we found the good Captain relaxed and sunning himself on deck. The rest of our group followed quickly behind us and we readied for the ride in. A fine end to the dive season for the Tuna Seazure and just plain hard to believe that it is mid-January.

Captain Bill….See you in March.