The Tragic Sinking of Harbor Beach's Fishing Tug Searchlight 1907

In this episode of The End of the Road in Michigan, we investigate the tragic 1907 sinking of the fishing tug Searchlight, which vanished during a Lake Huron storm just outside Harbor Beach.

With six men aboard and no survivors, this story includes first-hand reports, a haunting message in a bottle, and new historical context from local archives. Discover how a sudden gale changed the fate of one small tug—and the community it left behind.

Topics include Great Lakes fishing history, the Harbor Beach Life-Saving Service, and maritime tragedies in Michigan.

Learn more at The Sinking of the Fishing Tug Searchlight - Harbor Beach’s Worst Fishing Tragedy.

Please follow our podcast for more Michigan stories lost to time.

Music: Fluidscape by Kevin MacLeod is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
Source: http://incompetech.com/music/royalty-free/index.html?isrc=USUAN1100393
Artist: http://incompetech.com/

Episode Transcript

(00:00):
All hope for the little fishing steamer searchlight caught in the furious gale off this port

(00:04):
Tuesday night has been abandoned, declared one newspaper in April 1907.
On a spring evening that year, the searchlight, a 40-foot wooden fishing tug, vanished just
outside the Harbor Beach breakwater on Lake Huron.
Six men were aboard, you're listening to the end of the road in Michigan, the podcast
that uncovers the forgotten, the final, and the fascinating stories that shaped our state.

(00:25):
In this episode, we head to the shore of Lake Huron and step back to the year 1907, when
a small fishing tug named the searchlight set out from Harbor Beach and never returned.
What happened in those final moments, and what was found years later?
Stay with us as we tell the true story of the searchlight and the lives it carried.
Harbor Beach, Michigan, in the early 1900s, was a busy fishing community on Lake Huron shore.

(00:48):
Commercial fishing was a way of life here.
Families like the Browns made their living pulling white fish and trout from the cold
great lakes waters.
They used small steam-powered tugs to set and haul in nets each day, braving weather that
could change in an instant.
The searchlight was one such fishing tug, a wooden 40-foot steam propellerboat built in
1899.
In April 1907, the Brown Family Fishing Company bought the searchlight to replace an older

(01:11):
boat they sold, preparing for a new fishing season.
This would be her first job under the Browns ownership.
The crew of six on the searchlight were all seasoned or eager fishermen, Captain Walter
Brown, a veteran fisherman from Harbor Beach, led the expedition.
At his side was Harvey Harry Brown, serving as mate, a member of the same Brown Family
of Fisherman, Edward Coveau, an engineer from Bay City, ran the tugs engine and boiler,

(01:37):
tending the steam-boilers fire was Merton Perkins, the fireman.
Two deckhands worked the nets and lines, John Jack Lester of Harbor Beach and Angus Murray
from Detroit.
These were not just names on a roster, they were fathers, husbands, sons, and friends.
Lester, for instance, left behind a wife and six young children in Harbor Beach.

(01:57):
Harvey Brown had a wife and two children of his own.
Merton Perkins was engaged to be married, and he is looking forward to his wedding shortly.
Each man had hopes and responsibilities on shore, which made what happened that day all the
more tragic.
Tuesday, April 23, 1907, began with calm weather and clear skies over Lake Huron, a welcome

(02:17):
break after weeks of spring storms.
The Browns decided it was finally safe to head out onto the lake, their goal that day was
to retrieve a large set of fishing nets that had been left in the lake for weeks due to
earlier rough weather.
Those nets, filled with fish, represented a crucial catch for the Brown Fish Company's livelihood.
At dawn, Captain Walter Brown led two vessels out from Harbor Beach Harbor, the searchlight

(02:40):
and a small sailingboat, the sailboat, captain by Walter's brother Albert Brown, was to
assist in hauling in the far-flung nets alongside the steam tug, all morning and into the
afternoon.
The crews worked on the open water about 12 miles off the coast.
The lake was relatively gentle at first, the men on the searchlight steamed from buoy to
buoy, pulling up heavy, fish-laden nets, while Albert Brown's sailboat did the same nearby.

(03:03):
By midday, they had retrieved many of the nets that had been impossible to collect during
the bad weather earlier in the month.
Spirits were high.
It looked as though the day would be a success for the fishermen.
They knew, however, that on the great lakes, good weather can be fleeting, and a profitable
morning could swiftly turn into a dangerous afternoon.
Late in the day, the wind began shifting, and skies to the northwest darkened, the crew

(03:26):
recognized the signs of an approaching gale.
Albert Brown decided it was time to head for port before the weather grew worse.
He secured the catch on his sailboat and prepared to make the journey back to Harbor Beach
protected Harbor.
Before departing, the men made an important adjustment.
They swapped one crewman between the vessels.
Backhand John Jack Lester from the sailboat switched places with a sailor named James Conner

(03:47):
who had been on the searchlight.
This trade was made because Lester had more experience handling a sailboat, so he would
be more useful to Albert Brown on the sailing vessel as it navigated home.
James Conner, in turn, joined the searchlight crew.
It was a fateful decision for both men, one account later observed.
Jack Lester, a family man, chose duty over safety by moving on to the tug, a choice that

(04:08):
placed him directly in harm's way.
With the afternoon waning, Captain Walter Brown was reluctant to leave immediately.
The searchlight still had a few nets in the water, and valuable fish waiting to be hauled
in.
Determined to finish the job, Walter told Albert Brown that he intended to stay out a little.
The two boats parted ways.
Albert's sailboat, carrying James Conner and the recovered nets, said its canvas sales

(04:31):
and began racing toward the refuge of Harbor Beach's Harbor.
The searchlight, now carrying Walter, Harvey, Coveau, Perkins, Angus Murray, and Jack Lester,
dressed on a loan against the growing chop of the waves.
By 7pm a full gale was sweeping the area, the wind howled out of the northwest, the exact
direction that can send huge waves rolling down the length of Lake Huron, the sunny calm of

(04:54):
morning had long since vanished, in its place were rolling black clouds and winds reported
at near Hurricane Force on Lake Huron that night, as the light began to fade toward dusk,
Captain Brown finally turned the searchlight back toward Harbor Beach, pushing its steam
engine to fight the headwinds.
The nearest shelter was the Harbor Beach breakwater, an extensive stone and concrete wall that
formed a safe harbor of refuge, if the searchlight could just get inside that breakwater, the crew

(05:18):
would be in calm water again.
From the shore, the men of the U.S. Life Saving Service kept watch, Harbor Beach was home
to a life-saving station, and its crew of surfmen had a lookout tower near the shoreline.
They knew a severe storm was underway and had their eyes on the lake for any vessels
into stress.
Sure enough, through their binoculars they could make out a tiny shape on the waves, the

(05:39):
searchlight struggling homeward.
The life savers later recounted what they saw in those anxious moments, the stout little
tug pitched and fought against towering waves, its smoke-stack belching steam as it tried
to reach the Harbor entrance, just as the sun was setting on April 23rd, the worst happened
in an instant, the observers on shore saw the searchlight suddenly disappear from sight.

(06:01):
One moment, the tug's lights were visible fighting toward the breakwater, the next
moment, nothing, there was no distress flare seen, no whistle blast heard, the boat was simply
gone into the raging storm, darkness was closing in, making it nearly impossible to continue
observing the water, the life-saving crew waited, hoping the searchlight would reappear or
signal, but no light ever emerged, the men on shore must have felt a stab of dread,

(06:25):
realizing what that silence likely meant.
The searchlight had met a catastrophic fate within sight of home, later investigation
and witness accounts piece together a likely scenario, a massive wave, driven by the howling
wind, struck the tug broadside as it neared the Harbor entrance, the boat, already riding
low with its deck of wash and water, rolled violently and turned turtle, capsizing upside-down,

(06:48):
without warning.
This would have happened very quickly, giving the crew virtually no chance to save themselves,
an official theory held that the searchlight foundered so fast that the men couldn't even
launch their life raft or put on proper life-fests, the fact that the tug-zone life raft later
washed ashore still folded up was evidence of how sudden the capsize must have been
dot.

(07:08):
On that dark and stormy night, the six men aboard the searchlight were tossed into the
churning cold waters, in the chaos, perhaps one or two managed to grab a floating piece of
wreckage or a life jacket, but the odds of survival in such a gale were slim.
The exact details of those final moments will never be known, however, a remarkable clue
would surface days later.
A message in a bottle, apparently written by fireman Merton Perkins as the tug was sinking,

(07:32):
sometime after the storm, locals found a sealed bottle washed up on the shore.
Inside was a hastily scribbled note which read, "Searchlight turned turtle off Harbor Beach,
all gone down except Jack and Cork Jacket, M Perkins, if genuine."
This brief last message tells a haunting story.
Perkins may have written that he and the others were going under, except perhaps Jack Lester,

(07:53):
who was last seen alive wearing a corklife jacket in a float, tragically, even jacked
not make it to shore alive.
The note was regarded as genuine by those who discovered it, according to newspaper reports,
and stands as a poignant echo of the crew's final moments, it was as if Merton Perkins
wanted the world to know what had happened.
We will be right back with the rest of the story after this short message.

(08:17):
Welcome back, let's continue with our story.
When the searchlight vanished from view, the Harbor Beach lifesaver sprang into action
despite the terrible conditions. The crew of the lifesaving station launched a search as
quickly as they could, joined by a government tugboat that was in the area.
Through the night of April 23 and into the early hours of April 24, rescuers combed the
waters near the Harbor entrance, fighting high waves and darkness.

(08:40):
They shot off cost and flares, bright signal fireworks, and rockets, hoping to spot survivors
or wreckage.
The towns people waited anxiously along the shore in the howling wind, peering into the
black night for any sign of their husbands, fathers, and friends.
By the following day, the grim outcome was evident, the lifesaving crew returned to port
with debris but no survivors, they had found floating wreckage bearing the name searchlight

(09:03):
on it, splintered boat pieces that confirmed the worst, word spread quickly through the region.
Newspapers as far away as Atlanta carried the story.
Pishing smack sinks in storm, lifesavers returned to port last night with pieces of wreckage
bearing the steamers name, reported the Atlanta Georgian just two days later.
A Marshall Michigan paper noted that the searchlight of this port is missing and is believed

(09:25):
to have sunk in lake hereon last night with her crew of six men.
All six crew members had drowned when the tug went down.
There were no survivors.
In the days following the disaster, searchers continued to patrol the shoreline south of
Harbor Beach.
They picked up fish boxes, fuel cans, a lone life jacket, and other debris washed up about
five miles from the harbor.

(09:46):
These were sad tokens of the searchlights end.
The Harbor's life raft was found still strapped to part of the wreckage, a sign that the crew
never got a chance to deploy it.
Over the next week, as the lake gradually gave back what it had taken, the community's
worst fears were confirmed, the searchlight had indeed been lost with all hands.
Harbor Beach was a small town, and a loss of this scale was deeply personal to the community.

(10:09):
Many of the searchlights crew were local men whose families were well known in town.
When it became clear that the six fishermen were gone, Harbor Beach went into mourning.
Neighbors gathered around the bereaved families, offering comfort, churches held memorial services
for the men whose bodies were never recovered.
In one household, six young children asked when their father, John Lester, would be coming
home, an agonizing question with no good answer.

(10:32):
The Browns, a prominent fishing family, suffered a double blow with Walter and Harvey
Gone.
It was said that none were as personal as the foundering of the fishing tug searchlight
among Harbor Beach tragedies, because it struck at the heart of the town's daily life and
kinship ties.
There was little in the way of a formal investigation, the cause of the sinking was evident to all
who understood the lake.

(10:53):
Still, the story of the searchlight lived on in local memory, fishermen along Lake Huron
spoke of the tragedy as a cautionary tale.
Many concluded that the captain had cut it too close trying to beat the storm, the lesson
was clear, on the great lakes, no catch of fish is worth risking a run in when a gale
is rising.
After 1907, Harbor Beach fishermen became even more vigilant about weather signs, some would

(11:15):
recall the searchlight whenever dark clouds loomed, choosing to haul in and head for shelter
earlier rather than later.
The Brown family's fishing business had to continue without Walter and Harvey, surviving
relatives like Albert and Frank Brown reorganized their operations in the wake of the loss.
In fact, a few years later, Walter Brown's widow even went to court to sort out the family

(11:36):
business's finances after the tragedy. It took time for the community to recover financially,
the searchlight had been a key part of their fishing fleet, and replacing her was not easy.
The harbor itself, that massive breakwater meant to protect ships from storms, was a bitter
sweet sight.
It promised safety, yet the searchlight sank just yards from its refuge.
This led some to lobby for even better warning systems or harbor lights, hoping to prevent

(11:59):
future disasters at the harbor's mouth.
For years, the searchlight's fate remained somewhat of a mystery.
The tug itself had vanished beneath the waves, and despite searches with grappling hooks
and even divers, no trace of the sunken hull was found in 1907.
This lack of closure fed local lore and speculation, some whisper that the searchlight
might have been pulled under by a seash, a sudden lake surge, or even struck something

(12:23):
in the water, but most believed the simple truth.
She was overwhelmed by nature.
Parkably, six years later, in November 1913, the story of the searchlight resurfaced in
the context of an even bigger storm.
The Great Lakes Storm of 1913, the infamous White Hurricane, ravaged Lake Huron with unprecedented
fury, after that historic storm had subsided, fishermen near the small village of White

(12:46):
Rock, a dozen miles down the coast from Harbor Beach, made a startling discovery.
They found a human body, badly decomposed, washed up on the shore, along with wreckage,
a smoke stack in cabin, from a tugboat.
Old timers immediately thought of the searchlight.
Indeed, the debris was identified as parts of the long-lost searchlight.
The port Huron Times Herald reported on November 12, 1913.

(13:09):
Seven years ago, the tug's searchlight of Harbor Beach disappeared just outside the breakwater,
with her went the crew of five men.
Yesterday, floating near, a recovered body, was the smoke stack in cabin of the tug.
Fisherman claim it is the stack of the searchlight, and the report spread like wildfire along
the shore.
It seemed that the great storm of 1913 had disturbed the lake enough to finally belch out

(13:30):
some of the searchlights remains from the deaths, along with one of her lost crew.
Locals hoped this might solve the riddle of the searchlight's disappearance.
By 1913, the community had moved on but not forgotten, the recovery of that wreckage and
the unidentified body, thought to be one of the browns or perhaps jack lester, brought
back vivid memories of the tragedy.

(13:51):
It was a reminder of how dangerous the lakes could be, even in the age of steam power and
harbor improvements.
Harbor Beach Lighthouse and Life Saving Station had since been upgraded, and larger freighters
in 1913 crowded into the harbor of refuge during storms, yet the searchlight story remained
a touchstone, a cautionary tale passed down through generations of Michigan fishermen.

(14:12):
The sinking of the searchlight off Harbor Beach in 1907 marked a sorrowful end of the road
for six hardworking Michigan men.
In a matter of minutes, a routine day of fishing turned into a fight for survival against
one of nature's fiercest forces.
In the wake of the searchlight tragedy, Harbor Beach and other Great Lakes communities learned
lessons of respect for the weather and the importance of safety.
The tale was retold in newspapers and by word of mouth for years, even today, when stormwinds

(14:37):
blow across Lake Huron and waves crash against the Harbor Beach breakwater, one can imagine
the searchlight silhouette in the spray, a stark reminder of the brave souls who risked
and lost their lives trying to earn an honest living on Michigan's inland seas.
Thank you for listening to this episode of The End of the Road in Michigan.
To find out more about this disaster, look for this story and sources on thumbwind.com.

(15:00):
If you enjoyed today's story, consider subscribing and leaving a review, it helps others find
the show.
You can read more about this episode, see photos and sources, and explore additional
Michigan history at thumbwind.com.
Do you have a story idea or feedback?
Drop us a note at [e-mail].
Until next time, reminding you that sometimes, history ends quietly at the edge of the map,

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and at the end of the road.
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