True Tale of an Atlantic Ghost Ship
The Tale of the Marion G Douglas – Ghost Ship Mystery
Strange things can happen at sea. The ocean is not man’s natural habitat – he is already halfway to another world out there on the blue horizon – and, when something untoward occurs, it can seem all the more threatening and surreal amidst the waves.
This is one of the most extraordinary stories I uncovered during my time as editor-at-large of the Western Morning News, South West England’s daily morning newspaper - and I repeat it here because I’ve been fascinated by the episode ever since I was told all about the Marion Douglas by an elderly Bryer man called Brian Jenkins.
Brian Jenkins photographed by me in 2008
We are perplexed and fascinated by mysteries of the deep. We worry ourselves over things like the Bermuda Triangle, we drool with fear when it comes to sea monsters reaching up from the dark world beneath, and we become obsessed by such things as ghost ships.
The story of the Marie Celeste has been fueling imaginations for years - there is something haunting and darkly supernatural about an empty, lifeless ship that has come sailing out of the night. So when my boat-designer brother told me about a single sentence he’d read in an old book - that referred to the “West Country’s own Marie Celeste” - I found myself overtaken with a determination to find out more. “All it says,” said John, “Is that the year was 1919 and a schooner called the Marion G Douglas fetched up in Scilly with no one on board.”
Many phone calls and much cajoling later, I tracked down the uncanny and somewhat unlikely story of the Marion G Douglas ghost ship. Uncanny, because I cannot imagine how peculiar it must be to spy a ship sailing along with no one on board. Unlikely? Well, the story is extraordinary – but it happens to be true.
Old anchor on a Bryher beach
The Mysterious Arrival of the Marion G Douglas
Think what it must have been like for the people of the Scillonian island of Bryher, to spy such a vessel early one November morning in 1919. The First World War had just come to an end, and things were tough for the islanders. Even in far-flung Scilly, the world had been turned upside down for the past half-decade. Europe was now in the grip of a post-war struggle, and money was in short supply.
Suddenly here was a mystery ship, plying her aimless way in a light autumnal wind a mile or two north of the island. The islanders saw she was heading for the rocks, but there was not a soul on deck who could steer her off. There was only one thing to do, and that was to launch the island’s two gigs – the Sussex and the Czar – and row out among the rocks and reefs.
I reckon that climbing aboard the empty schooner must have taken a little nerve. The men must surely have wondered what horrors they were about to find. Mutilated bodies? Disease?
But there were no stricken sailors – no corpses, no damaged human beings – either dead or alive. Nothing but empty bunks and cabins. Yet the boat was shipshape - there was nothing wrong with her steering gear, her masts, or sails. Her cargo of timber was intact.
Bryher shoreline looking across to Tresco
The Vanished Crew – A Maritime Enigma
So where was the missing crew?
Such questions must have raced through the minds of the Bryher men - and 84 years later, I found myself asking the same. However, no reference book in my collection could offer a single clue – and an exhaustive search on the normally unbeatable Internet provided not a smidgen of information regarding the ghost ship of the Scillies.
Many phone calls later, I eventually got hold of (the now late) Richard Barber, editor of the Tresco Times, who wrote a 160-page hardback book called Tresco Times - The Last Piece of England. Richard told me: “Yes, I know about the Marion G Douglas - in fact, I can’t for the life of me think why I didn’t put the story in my book. Anyway, to find out more you’ll have to talk to a Bryher man. Try Richard Jenkins...”
“Of course I know about the Marion G Douglas,” said Mr. Jenkins from his home on Bryher. “You can’t grow up on this island without knowing all about her. She supplied the people of Bryher with some much-needed cash after the First World War. A record salvage reward it was at the time – for the islands at least. Kept the people of Bryher going I should think. My grandfather and uncle were involved. But the best man to talk to is Brian Jenkins, who lives over on St Mary’s now. He’ll tell you all about it.”
Brian did indeed recall the ghost ship incident in detail, having heard all about it from his father, uncle, and grandfather.
“They knew she was abandoned from the start,” Brian told me. “It was quite plain to see no one was on board. No, she wasn’t under full sail. They launched the gigs – there were about eight or nine men in each – 20 were involved altogether. Out they went and boarded her. I suppose it must have been a bit spooky now you mention it – they never knew what they’d find on board. Anyway, she was in good condition, so they put up her sails and brought her in between Bryher and Samson and moored her near Norrard Rocks off Rushy Bay. Later she was in St Mary Roads – I don’t know if it was for three or for six weeks.”
Theories and Speculations Surrounding the Ghost Ship
I asked Mr. Jenkins if he knew what happened to the schooner’s crew.
Mr Jenkins in 2008 when he told me the tale
“They’d apparently experienced some pretty poor weather off the American coast, and they were taken off by a passing steamer,” he replied. “They say she was abandoned 13 days before the Bryher men salvaged her.”
By the way, I learned from a different source that her appearance in Scilly effectively scuppered the schooner’s captain from making a fraudulent insurance claim – saying that his ship had sunk. I don’t know if this is true or not, but I’d love to hear from any reader who might know…
“I’ve never heard that, all I know is that they were landed in America” said Brian. “Anyway, the salvage was good news for the islanders - she was a big fore-and-aft rigged schooner of 499 tons and her cargo of timber was all in good condition - so it all helped with the reward. My grandfather, William Edwin Jenkins, and my uncle were the two runners who took her up to Glasgow. ‘Runners’ is what they call the men who are put on a boat that’s being towed. They steer the vessel and re-attach the line if it parts – that sort of thing.”
Mr. Jenkins concluded: “£3,300 is what the islanders received for the salvage. That was a lot of money in those days, and I’ve heard it really helped what could have been hard times.”
So, no big mystery after all. Unless you ask how a heavily laden ship with her sails stowed could be blown across the Atlantic in just 13 days…