The Barkentine ARABIA was built in 1852 in Kingston, Ontario, by George Thurston. Constructed with wood and measuring 132 feet in length, 26 feet in beam, and 12 feet in depth, it had a tonnage of 309 (old style) and featured a single deck. The original owner of the vessel was William Nickle & Co., located in Montreal, Quebec.
ARABIA had three masts and primarily operated in the Great Lakes region. It engaged in trade between the Great Lakes and England, taking advantage of the improved St. Lawrence Canals. In July 1853, the ship was owned by Fitzhugh & Co. and suffered damage due to a fire in Oswego, New York. In November 1854, it ran ashore in Sodus with a cargo of 13,000 bushels of wheat but was successfully freed the following day. Ownership changed over the years, with J. Boyd & Co. and Ferguson & Co. among the subsequent owners.
The vessel had a significant event in 1881 when it ran aground on Hay Island during a storm, causing severe damage to both the ship and its cargo of ties. The final voyage of ARABIA took place on October 1, 1884, when it departed Chicago carrying 20,000 bushels of corn bound for Midland, Ontario, in Georgian Bay, Lake Huron. Unfortunately, it encountered a fierce gale around 70 miles from Tobermory on October 4. Despite the crew’s efforts to keep the ship afloat, it eventually foundered and sank near Echo Island.
All crew members were saved and rescued by a passing tugboat, eventually reaching Wiarton, Ontario. For almost 90 years, the exact location of ARABIA’s final resting place remained a mystery until Captain Albert Smith discovered it in the fall of 1971. The wreck was found in Georgian Bay, within the Fathom Five Provincial Park, resting at a depth of eighteen fathoms.
Diving the ARABIA involves following a yellow permanent mooring line to a 500 lb. concrete mooring block at the bottom, approximately 110 feet down. From there, a light connecting line leads us to the wreck. Two mooring blocks are available, with connecting lines either going aft to the starboard railing near the yawl boat davit or forward to the starboard railing just aft of the starboard anchor. Personally, I prefer starting my dive off the bow of the wreck.
Leaving the mooring block, we follow the connecting line, and as we approach, the faint silhouette of the ship emerges like a spectre from the past. The cold green shrouds of a century beneath the waves gradually disappear, revealing the completely intact bow of a 19th-century sailing ship. I’ve had the privilege of witnessing this sight over a dozen times, and each time, it fills me with awe and excitement.
To the right, the 30-foot bowsprit with its supporting chain shrouds extends towards the surface, creating a sense of loneliness. In front of us, one of the massive wooden stocks for her two anchors remains mounted, attached to their respective catheads. Examining the shaft of the port anchor, we notice the letters A E HART, leaving us curious about their meaning. On the left, the starboard side railing with its deadeyes fades into darkness. Swimming over the motionless anchor windlass, we observe a large sampson post and the pump. Although the pump handles are missing, it stands frozen in its last position, a silent testament to the crew’s desperate moments.
Taking a moment to pause and imagine the events of that autumn day a hundred years ago, with the winds wailing through the rigging and sailors fighting to save their ship, we are reminded of the silence that now surrounds us, interrupted only by the rhythmic sound of our breathing and the bubbles escaping towards the surface, a hundred feet above.
Continuing our swim down the port side railing, we pass the fallen mainmast, with its cross trees and wire rope shrouds no longer straining against the wind. To our left, we see the centerboard and centerboard winch resting inside the hull. Over a century underwater, the hull has spread, causing the decking and masts to collapse. Continuing along the railing and past the mizzen mast, we catch a glimpse inside the hull, revealing a deckhouse door and a cook stove that once provided sustenance and warmth to the crew. Now, they offer no comfort in the 38-degree water.
The stem of the ship appears less intact, likely damaged as it settled on the hard bottom. As we look around, we spot the rudder, quarter deck, taffrail, and nearby, the ship’s wheel. Who can resist the temptation to reach out and imagine battling the raging sea and howling winds, just as the crew did?
Glancing at our watches, we realize our time is running out, and we must begin our ascent. As we ascend the mooring line, we carry with us the cherished memories of this extraordinary diving experience. We had the opportunity to touch history.
In the final fleeting moments of that special dive, with hands on the ship’s wheel, we sail the imaginary ship through the storm-tossed seas of our minds. Before leaving, we take a last glance over our shoulders and see the light gray memorial stone inscribed with laser precision, left by a group of divers who wanted to pay homage to the ARABIA. The stone bears the inscription:
“ARABIA Built: Kingston, Ontario 1853 Foundered: October 5, 1884 Commemorated: October 5, 1984″
