Public Transportation and Sport Don't Mix - Especially with Steamboats

Today's post includes a length excerpt from a gruesome newspaper article published 110 years ago, today. I wouldn't suggest it to the squeamish. What's particularly fascinating is this entirely avoidable accident was brought about by sport, two excursion steamers racing on Lake Michigan. Can you imagine two jumbo jets operated by competing company's racing across the U.S. until one of them shook itself apart? Yet this story was hardly a rare event in the 1800's. If I recall Mark Twain's brother was killed in such an accident racing riverboats on the Mississippi (Samuel Clemens who was also a riverboat pilot took the pen name "Mark Twain" from the call of the boatman who would check the river depth with a lead weight). You would think by 1895, the passengers or crew would mutiny if a boat got involved in a race, but adrenaline conquers all.

BURST A STEAM VALVE
Serious Accident on the Christopher Columbus.
Two Killed; Thirteen Injured

Result of Reckless Racing on Lake Michigan - The Officers of the Big Whaleback Were Bound to Beat Their Rival, the Virginia, and Overpressure of Steam Did the Rest - Judge Grosscup Calmed the Excited Passengers and Prevented a Panic. By the explosion of a steam valve in the whaleback Christopher Columbus, off Waukeegan, two men were killed and thirteen were dangerously or painfully injured. The victims were:

DEAD

FRANK WILSON, coal passer
E. J. STREIT, fireman

INUJRED

Edward Darow, leader of the orchestra; scalded on the face and hands very painfully.
John Hopper, fireman, inhaled steam, and face, neck and breast seriously scalded.
George W. Keil, waiter, Buffalo, hands and face scalded.
John W. Keough, meat carver, Buffalo, hands and face scalded.
Arnold Klein, passenger, Dubuque, Iowa, face and hands badly scalded; accompanied by student, also scalded.
Robert McConkey, coal passer, back terribly scalded.
Miss Miller, orchestra, scalded and hands and face burned.
Frank Rosner, fireman, badly scalded on face, hands and body.
James E. Ryan, fireman, scalded on back, neck and hands.
Nic Sasser, water tender, Cleveland, Ohio, hands scalded.
Miss Voxhelmer, orchestra, face painfully scalded
W. L. Webster, chief engineer, hands scalded
James Lorimer, coal passer, face, neck, breast and hands seriously scalded.

It was the homeward run of the whaleback in its opening summer excursion to Milwaukee. About 350 souls were aboard. Flying flags, with music and dancing was the order of the evening.

An Exciting Race

Half a mile in the boat's wake plowed the rival excursion steamer, the Virginia, which, clearing the harbor some fifteen minutes later, had on every pound of steam possible to overtake her competitor. On the outward trip the Virginia had not only held the advantage, but doubled it, and the crew of the whaleback were determined that they should not be passed. And the Virginia was gaining. As the sun went down the boats pushed ahead neck and neck, not more than 300 yards apart. The decks and promenades of both steamships were blackened with passengers. Shouts and waving garments told the same interest in the outcome that attends the race course. The Virginia surged ahead. Word passed from the engine room that the Christopher Columbus was resolved on a little fun. The rival boat should be allowed to gain a half mile on the whaleback, and then steam was to be run up and the situation would be changed before reaching Chicago harbor. Scores went below to watch the machinery.

The clouds of black smoke forming a dense low-hanging airwake to the whaleback, the vibrations of the craft from stem to stern, the unusual plowing of the water, all told that the Columbus was under a giant strain and would win if it was in her. Some grew anxious, Judge Grosscup and his party, who were sitting aft, deserted their seats and stood under the bridge.

A Steam Valve Burst

Those watching the gauge said that the pressure was exceeding the limit to which the boilers had been adjusted. From 132 pounds the steam had run up to 177 pounds and was still rising. Suddenly there was a shock of explosion. The steam valve in a six inch connecting pipe over the starboard notary of the three boilers had blown off. Down in the hold, six firemen and a waterman found themselves enveloped in a scalding mist so thick that one could not see his hand. When they tried to make the ladder, they jammed against the heated oven doors. In their frenzy they fell over one another and delayed embracing the slight chance of escape offered. The blinding vapor made help impossible. The steam crowded everywhere. It was instantly in every compartment of the vessel.

In the main saloon, 150 persons seated or reclined were suddenly seized with panic. It was increased by all the lights going out. The passengers rushed to the decks. Several women fainted. The men did all in their power to quiet the frightened. Many believed the ship was sinking. Then the steam reached the passengers. A score or more of women who had inhaled steam swooned, and in the excitement, their friend believed they had been overcome by breathing deadly vapor. (For the rest of the story, see the June, 24th, 1895 edition of the Washington Post).

I can't think of many industrial acidents nastier than steam burns. Steam actually contains about five times the calories (heat) as boiling water, so steam burns from pressurized steam always result in serious injury. When I wrote a novel about a troubled young engineer who wrote poetry about engineering disasters in the early 90's, I