Tugboat latest casualty of lake's fury
By RICK OLIVO
The Daily Press
Tuesday, December 12th, 2006 09:15:10 AM

Courtesy U.S. CoastGuard

ICE-SHROUDED TUG — The Zenith Tugboat Company tug "Seneca" lies grounded and partially sunk just off the Michigan shoreline, about 18 nautical miles east of Grand Marais. The vessel was being towed to Duluth after undergoing repair and upgrades at Sault Ste. Marie when its towrope parted in a violent and unexpected storm. Efforts to salvage the vessel are being hindered by bad weather on Lake Superior.

Experienced mariners know that the wrath of Lake Superior in the late fall and early winter can exceed the violence of waters almost anywhere else on earth.

That object fact of life was reconfirmed yet again on the night of Dec. 3, when the "Seneca," the flagship of the Duluth-based Zenith Tugboat Company, was lost on eastern Lake Superior after an unexpected storm shredded its towing gear. The disabled 94-foot long vessel drifted off into the darkness, away from it's tow, the Susan Hoey, and was assumed lost by the Hoey's skipper, Captain Franz VonRiedel, a skilled tugboat captain and president of Zenith. He is also the founder of the Northeastern Historical Maritime Foundation, which hopes to build a maritime museum at the Ashland Soo Line Oredock.

The wayward tug was eventually found by the U.S. Coast Guard, grounded about 18 nautical miles east of Grand Marais, Mich.

The Seneca was Zenith's first vessel. It has been working from Duluth since 1981. The 1,200-horespower tug was built in 1939 for the Card Towing Company at Norfolk, Va. and shortly thereafter requisitioned for use by the U.S. Navy for service as a submarine net tender at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba for the duration of World War II.

The classic ship-docking harbor tug had been at Sault Ste. Marie since October undergoing repair and upgrades before its scheduled return to Duluth.

The Susan Hoey, which had just been purchased by VonRiedel from the Gaelic Tugboat Company of Detroit, accompanied the Seneca as crews ran both tugs under their own power up the St. Mary's river on the afternoon of Dec. 2. Captain VonRiedel and his crew ran both tugs under their own power up the St. Mary's River the afternoon of the second and upon reaching Whitefish Bay, the Seneca was shut down and placed on a towline behind the Hoey in order to save fuel. With only a "day crew" on board, the plan was to run short hops, stopping to rest each night. The plan on the day of the storm was just a short run over to Grand Marais.

"We checked and rechecked the weather and all indications showed we had a weather window to make some progress that day, so we departed, after having spent two days waiting for the lake to calm down," VonRiedel said. "We checked in with two ships we passed downbound and they confirmed the lake was looking better and better. It was supposed to be blowing out of the south 15 to 20 miles per hour with seas building two to five feet.”

It was a beautiful evening and the Seneca followed nicely until about 7 p.m., when the wind started switching and the seas built in height. Within an hour the seas went from four to 14 feet. Some of the waves were paired and triple 16-footers that were unbelievable, VonRiedel said.

"It happened so quickly and came out of nowhere, we had no time to turn around and even if we did, there was nowhere to go. The winds were now strong out of the north and we were only about 10 miles from our destination," he recalled.

Former Coast Guard engineer Ted Wagner agreed the seas were terrifying.

"It was the worst I've seen. You couldn't even tell which direction they were coming from; it was like a whirlpool out there. Very strange," Wagner said.

"It was an incredible sight looking back and seeing the huge tug Seneca climb right out of a sea fully exposing her rusty bottom to the night sky. It was like a house falling from the sky," VonRiedel added. "I had my feet planted between the throttle stands and with my eyes closed and just felt out our course. The windows were covered with ice. We had zero visibility."

Eyes closed or not, members of the crew praised VonRiedel's seamanship.

"Franz is a tremendous boat operator. Not too many others would have been able to handle that," Wagner said.

At the height of the storm, the strain on the tremendously strong nearly-new three-inch thick nylon towrope was too much. The line was snagged on a broken piece of steel rub-rail on the Hoey, which eventually cut through the tow hawser like a knife. In an instant the Seneca was gone.

"I looked back and the Seneca was not in the spotlight. I shouted to Ted, 'Where's our tow?' and he concentrated aft a minute and responded, 'It's gone, forget about it.' At that point, it was almost a relief and now we had a better chance of saving ourselves," said VonRiedel.

Thankfully nobody was aboard the tug Seneca at the time of her loss. "We're just so happy nobody was hurt. The equipment we can replace, the men we cannot," VonRiedel said.

Still, despite being relieved of her tow, the situation on the Hoey was still desperate. With simply walking on the Hoey a near-impossibility, just staying alive was a team effort VonRiedel said. At one point the tug was making an incredible 16.8 miles per hour, surfing on top of the waves in a tug that has a normal top speed of 12 miles per hour.

Guided into port by Coast Guard radar, the battered Hoey finally reached safe harbor.

"It was a great feeling when we entered the piers and could feel the seas calm beneath us. What a relief," VonRiedel said.

After a 36-hour search, crews from the U.S. Coast Guard cutter Alder spotted what they thought to be the silhouette of the missing tug 18 miles west of Crisp Point on Michigan's "Shipwreck Coast." The Seneca was partially sunken offshore, starboard-side to the beach with no apparent structural damage but entirely encrusted in ice as the seas broke over the giant tugboat.

An oil sheen in the water indicated that the vessel was leaking fluids, so the Coast Guard and the federal on-scene coordinator immediately ordered that the vessel's diesel fuel, lubricating oil, waste oil and paint removed from the stricken ship.

As of Monday 1,800 gallons of fuel, 25 gallons of paint and 30 gallons of lube oil had been removed. Weather conditions have continued to frustrate the salvage efforts.

According to VonRiedel, at this time, the Seneca appears to be a total loss, although the final determination cannot be made until the tug is dewatered and a salvage attempt to free the tug is made.

In the meantime, the Hoey has returned to Duluth and will be employed in the ship-docking trade on Western Lake Superior.

Captain VonRiedel was philosophic following the grounding of the Seneca, and said Lake Superior was by far the scariest body of water he and his crew have ever encountered.

"It turns on you so quickly and it’s just a big game; trying to beat what it throws at you," he said. "There's not a lot of places to hide, so you need to plan ahead carefully. Then again, when you practically live out here like we do, the law of average is going to catch up with you. They can't all be smooth rides."