During the 19th century, Chicago was one of the busiest shipping ports in the world. By 1875 nearly 21,000 vessels cleared the port of Chicago annually. A Great Lakes ship carried nearly every commodity that passed through the bustling city, and Christmas trees were no exception. Each year, several sailing ships ended their season by loading evergreens in northern Wisconsin or Michigan's Upper Peninsula, and setting sail for Chicago, where they offloaded their trees to end their shipping season.
Many Christmas tree ships sold their cargo to wholesalers, freeing themselves of the burden of selling off thousands of trees one at a time. Other captains, however, taken with the holiday spirit, turned their ships into floating tree lots along the Chicago River, welcoming customers aboard and taking great pride and pleasure in their business. One of these captains was Herman Schuenemann. Each November, Captain Schuenemann loaded the schooner Rouse Simmons to nearly overflowing with evergreens in Thompson, Michigan. After sailing to Chicago, Captain Schuenemann moored his vessel to a downtown pier, hoisted a decorated tree up the mast and strung electric lights throughout the rigging, turning his ship into a large Christmas ornament
Divers descend on the bow of the Rouse Simmons.
In November 1912, however, Captain Schuenemann and the Rouse Simmons never arrived at Chicago. Following a raging storm that swept Lake Michigan, the Rouse Simmons and her crew were never seen again. Lost with all hands somewhere on the lake, the location of the Rouse Simmons' wreck would remain a mystery until 59 years later when Milwaukee diver Kent Bellrichard discovered the vessel's remains in 165 feet of water 12 miles northeast of Two Rivers, Wisconsin. The discovery solved the mystery of where the Rouse Simmons sank, but additional questions remained — why did the ship sink, and what happened during her final moments? These questions provided the focus for a two-week archaeological survey by the Wisconsin Historical Society during the summer of 2006. Led by Maritime Preservation and Archaeology Program staff, a team of primarily volunteer divers from around the country conducted the survey project. Due to the wreck site's great depth, as well as a chilly 42 degree water temperature on the lake bottom, divers only made one dive per day, spending 45 minutes gathering photographs, measurements and data, with an additional 45 minutes spent slowly ascending to the surface to avoid decompression sickness, or the bends.
While it may never be known for certain what transpired in the Rouse Simmons' final moments, divers uncovered several clues that shed some light on what happened just before the ship slipped beneath the waves. By examining the historical and archaeological record, the Historical Society's divers pieced together a more complete story of what happened that fateful day in 1912. Last seen by the Kewaunee Life-Saving Station, the Rouse Simmons was flying a distress flag five miles offshore while being driven southward by a northwest gale. With no chance of catching the fleeing vessel, the Kewaunee station's captain called the Two Rivers Life-Saving Station several miles south of Kewaunee. The Two Rivers Station immediately launched a lifeboat to intercept the distressed vessel and bring her crew to safety. As the lifeboat motored onto the lake, however, the Rouse Simmons had vanished. The lifeboat crew searched for several hours without a trace of the ship, and darkness and a snowstorm eventually drove the crew back to port.
Society researchers re-created the search pattern of the Two Rivers lifeboat and compared it with the Rouse Simmons' location today. They discovered that the Two Rivers lifeboat completely encircled the Rouse Simmons and was never more than a few miles from where she lies. With a reported six miles of visibility that day, if the Rouse Simmons were still afloat as the lifeboat rounded Two Rivers Point at 4:20 p.m., the lifesaving crew would have seen her.
The windlass of the Rouse Simmons
As the Society's divers descended on the wreck site, they noticed something peculiar — the Rouse Simmons was not heading south as she was last reported, but was facing northwest, or back toward the shoreline and a small bay. Interested by this change of heading, the divers began looking for clues as to why the Rouse Simmons had changed her course, and they found what they were looking for at the ship's bow. Tools for handling the anchors and chains were lying about the deck. The windlass, the winch used to raise and lower the anchors, was in the middle of being prepared for lowering the port side anchor. Before the Two Rivers lifeboat rounded Two Rivers Point, the Rouse Simmons had turned towards shore to head for shelter where they planned to drop anchor and ride out the storm. Soon after making this decision, however, the storm's large waves sent the Rouse Simmons and her crew to the bottom of Lake Michigan.
Through the hard work of the Wisconsin Historical Society's volunteer divers and author Rochelle Pennington, the Rouse Simmons was listed on the State Register of Historic Places on October 13, 2006, and is currently being reviewed for listing on the National Register of Historic Places.
