Popular Wreck Sites

 

THEODORE PARKER

The Liberty ship Theodore Parker - 7,176 tons and 441 feet long was built in March 1943 by the California Shipbuilding Corporation at Terminal Island in Los Angeles, California.  She was powered by an engine built by Joshua Henry Ironworks.  With two large boilers and a four blade propeller (18 feet in diameter) the Theodore Parker cruised at 11 knots.  Owned by the U.S. government and operated by Angwdines, Inc. the liberty ship made several uneventful Atlantic Ocean crossings carrying food and material for the Allied war effort during W.W.II. Departing Hull, England on November 16, 1944 and bound for New York in ballast the vessel struck a mine off the east coast of England about 75 miles from the entrance to the Number River. She was severely damaged and returned to Hull where repairs were made over the next three months.  Once repairs were completed, she left England in February 1945, arriving in New York on March 9, 1945.  After the war, she was consigned to the Merchant Marine Reserve Fleet on the James River near Newport News, Virginia.  In 1974, the Theodore Parker was purchased by the State of North Carolina for use as an artificial reef and on June 4, 1974 she was sunk in 50 feet of water 1.5 miles off Bogue Banks, three miles West of Fort Macon.

 

PROTEUS 

In the first decades of the twentieth century, traveling to the East Coast from the western United States was usually a arduous journey.  One of the most pleasant ways to travel coast-to-coast for those who could afford it was by rail to New Orleans and then by steamship from New Orleans to New York. The Southern Pacific Railroad Company offered the trip via its fine rail coach service from San Francisco and other western cities to New Orleans and from there to New York on one of five high-class ocean passenger steamers. One of those vessels was the 4,828 ton, 406 foot long, stell-screw steamer, PROTEUS.  On August 14, 1918, Captain Boyd directed the Proteus, carrying 75 passengers and crew, away from the Southern Pacific dock at the head of St. Louis Street in New Orleans.  By 2:00 a.m. two days later the Proteus was off Charleston, South Carolina on her way toward Diamond Shoals Lightship off Hatteras.  Fog created poor visibility on this leg of the trip.  Boyd ordered the Proteus's speed cut from 15 knots to 12 as conditions became worse.  Around 2:00 a.m. Sunday morning, about 34 miles southwest of Diamond Shoals Lightship, unaware that a standard oil tanker, the SS Cushing, was on a collision course with them, the crew of the Proteus guided their ship cautiously toward the edge of the treacherous shoals.  Without warning the Cushing appeared out of the fog and collided with the Proteus amidships, creating a gaping hole beneath her waterline. A fireman, in a moment of panic, leaped overboard moments after the collision and was drowned.  For the second time in as many years Captain Boyd was forced to give the order to abandon ship.  An orderly evacuation of the Proteus was accomplished and within an hour all were rescued by the undamaged Cushing. The only fatality of the collision was that of the drowned fireman.  Six hours later on August 19, 1918, 25 miles south of Hatteras inlet, the Proteus sank to the bottom in 125 feet of water. The Proteus and its cargo now lie scattered across the bottom south of Hatteras, with the stern section of the ship towering 25 feet or so above the wreckage. A large brass wheel attached to a long shaft may be seen on the stern deck, which is at 45 degrees to the bottom. The portion of the stern remaining un-collapsed is a small section, perhaps only 30 to 40 feet long, containing the round aft wheel house and including the dead-end of the stern. The brass wheel and shaft probably were part of the ship's rudder steering device which included a Williamson steering engine. Partially buried in the sand is the four-blade propeller nearly 18 feet diameter, so large you may miss it at first, mistaking it for a large piece of bulkhead. Two of the four blades are completely buried in the sand. One can also see the remains of an automobile complete with brass radiator cap.  Moving forward along the starboard side of the wreck near the stern, relief approaches 10-15 feet off the bottom and bulkhead's and iron beams lie everywhere. The wreck lays 15-20 degrees on its port side and much of that side is buried in the sand.

 

CARIBSEA  

Originally named Lake Flattery, the Caribsea was a Great Lakes freighter built in 1919 at Duluth, Minnesota, for Stockard Steamship Company of New York.  At 2,609 tons (1,610 net tons), the 251-foot-long vessel carried freight along the East Coast from Caribbean ports to New York and Philadelphia.  At the beginning of March 1942, the Caribsea departed Santiago, Cuba bound for Norfolk, Virginia. Early in the morning March 11, she was running at a slow speed 12 miles east of Cape Lookout to comply with U.S. Navy orders for all vessels to pass Cape Hatteras which was a virtual "torpedo alley" and U-boats were taking a toll of shipping passing outside Diamond Shoals, especially among the ships running at night. The U-158, under the command of Captain Erich Rostin, spotted the small freighter, and according to German naval reports - Rostin mistook her for a Coast Guard cutter. The U-158 fired two torpedoes from her bow tubes at the Caribsea and both struck the freighter's starboard side simultaneously. One struck the #2 hold just forward of amidships a the other struck amidships. The small ship sank within 3 minutes, and there was no time to launch all lifeboats. Twenty-one members of the crew perished in the attack, and seven survivors leaped overboard and clung to whatever was floating nearby. The survivors were picked up by the Norlindo and put aboard a Coast Guard cutter off Cape Henry, Virginia.


The Caribsea lies in 85 feet of water east of Cape Lookout Shoals and only around 10 miles from shore as the crow flies.  The site of the wreck is 12.5 miles from the knuckle Buoy on a heading of 31 degrees. Because it lies so close to the shoals, the visibility on the wreck is usually less than 40 feet or so, but during the summer 80-100 feet of visibility may be encountered. Current is sometimes a problem on the wreck, but generally it is of little consequence. Water temperatures early or late in the diving season may be 5 or 10 degrees colder than in offshore waters, but in the summer water temperatures in the mid-70's and 80's are the rule.


The wreck has been wire-dragged to prevent the wreckage from obstructing navigation and during W.W. II the Navy and the Coast Guard depth-charged the wreck as a precaution because U-boats would often hide near sunken wrecks to prevent detection by surface ships. Consequently, not much remains of the original ship's structure. A portion of the bow is intact and rises to nearly 70 feet, and a section of the forward hold, including the anchor chain locker, remains. Her two bow anchors may still be seen hanging on the port and starboard sides of the bow. A large windlass can be seen on the deck at a depth of 80 feet. The anchor chain locker lies at the second level below the bow deck. The Caribsea's triple expansion engine and two large boilers provide the greatest relief on the wreckage, rising to 70 feet. The keel and various iron girders and large iron plates lie on the bottom in a helter-skelter fashion. Corals, sponges, urchins, sea bass, blennies, an occasional shark or two, manta rays, and a variety of crustaceans may be seen.

 

PAPOOSE  

The Papoose was built in 1921 at San Pedro, California for the Petroleum Navigation Company of Houston, Texas.  She was originally named the Silvaus. The taker, 412 feet long and 5,939 tons (3,636 net tons) carried cruel oil and gasoline from Tea to New York.  In mid March 1942, Captain and a crew of 34 individuals departed Providence, Rhode Island, and headed south to New York.  After a brief stop, the Papoose proceeded down the Eastern Seaboard on her way to Port Arthur, Texas to pick up another load of oil. Late in the evening of March 18, 1942, the Papoose was about 18 miles south of Cape Lookout when suddenly a torpedo struck her port side amidships, flooding the engine and fire rooms and killing 2 crewmen. The torpedo had been fired from the U-124, which was under the command of Korvettenkapita Johann Mohr.  With the Papoose dead in the water, the Captain radioed for help and gave the order to abandon ship.  Lifeboats #2 and #4 on the port side had been destroyed in the blast, so lifeboats #1 and #3 on the starboard side were lowered and the crew began to evacuate the sinking ship.  Finding Papoose immobilized, Mohr moved the U-124 around the starboard side of his target for the final blow.  Fifteen minutes after the first torpedo struck; the U-124 fired a second into the starboard side of the crippled and unarmed ship.  The torpedo, nearly hitting lifeboat #3, struck just aft of amidships, and within minutes the Papoose rolled over. It took several hours before the vessel sank in 130 feet of water. As they rowed toward shore, the survivors found their way lit by another of the U-124's victims, the W.E. Hutton, a fully laden oil tanker attacked an hour after the Papoose had been torpedoed.


The Papoose lies upside down in 130 feet of water 36.7 miles from Bogue Inlet on a heading of 134 degrees and 30 miles from Beaufort Inlet on a heading of 170 degrees.  Located far offshore, the wreck sits in very clear, warm water. However, divers should have few North Carolina wreck dives under their belt before they undertake a dive to the Papoose.  Though the dive itself is not arduous, divers need to have a little experience to deal with such factors as the depth, the currents, and the long boat ride out to the site.  Because the Papoose lies slightly on her port side and upside down, it is difficult to get to a lot of the interesting features located on her port hull near the sand. On the starboard side of the ship, it is quite easy to swim under the slightly elevated side and see passageways and rows of portholes, which are accessible.  At a depth of 110 feet or so, there are large gaping cracks in the hull on the starboard side that allow penetration into various hull compartments.  Take a bright dive light or two with you on this dive because some additional illumination is needed to see under the inverted portions on the edge of the ship and especially inside the wreck.  Due to the inverted position of the wreck, many of the features that are interesting to see are located near the sand.  The large flat keel lies at 85 feet, and there are several openings into the hull at depths of 120 feet that are quite interesting for those divers not wanting to dive too deep. For example, there are large openings at around 100 to 115 feet that allow access to the engine room. A diver should remember, however, to never penetrate a wreck alone or without proper training.

 

AELOUS  

Life is a transition of events and things. So it is with ocean going ships.  In the beginning, a water-borne vessel is created for one purpose, later modified for another, and in the end serves a different one. The passing of one structure marks the beginning of another. The life of the Aelous was no different. Originally named Turidot, construction of the attack cargo vessel began at the end of March 1945, by the Walsh-Kaiser Company of Providence, Rhode Island under a Maritime Commission contract.  Designed as a troop transport vessel to bring American GI's home from the Pacific at the end of World War II, the 246 foot-long - 4,087 ton ship was launched on May 1945 and commissioned on June 18, 1945. Within a month the Turidot was on her way to the canal, loaded with passenger's and cargo for what was to be the first of many trips through the Panama Canal.  Arriving on the pacific side of the Canal, the ship was escorted west to the Hawaii Islands by the American submarine, U.S.S. Barbero. Arriving at Pearl Harbor in mid-August her stay in Oahu was a short one. The war effort that was winding down in the Pacific deemed that the troop transport continue further west to New Hebrides, the Marshall Islands, Wake Island, and back to Eniwetok.  In mid-October, the Turidot departed Eniwetok with more that 600 American troops who had survived the Pacific warfare and was headed home to the States.  Arriving in California after a two week voyage, the ship barely had time to make necessary repairs before being sent out to pick up another one thousand American troops. Arriving back in California in mid-December with newly liberated troops, the Turidot spent the rest of the year being repaired and outfitted.  With the war in the Pacific now over, the demand for the services of an attack cargo ship dwindled. Early in 1946, the Turidot returned to Hampton Roads, Virginia, where she was decommissioned in March of that year. She was struck from the navy list one year later and would spend the next seven years in mothballs as part of the Reserve Fleet.  In the fall of 1954, the Turidot was called back into service by the navy and converted into a cable-laying ship in Baltimore, Maryland.  In May of 1955, the ship was renamed Aeolus, after the Greek god of the winds, and re-commissioned into the navy. And god of the winds she became. For eight months after her commission, she served in the Atlantic laying cable and performing surveys in the West Indies, the Bahamas, and off Charleston, and South Carolina. Following this tour, the Aeolus was transferred to San Francisco where she performed similar duties off the West Coast until 1986. Age and the sea had taken their toll on the Aeolus, having logged 249,114 nautical miles in her 42-year career. The old ship was acquired by the Maritime Administration and again, dock bound as part of the James River Reserve Fleet in Virginia.


In 1987, ownership of the Aeolus was transferred to the state of North Carolina for use as an artificial reef.  Taken to Wilmington, North Carolina the Aeolus began the long process to prepare her for her final duty on the ocean bottom.  After several months of hard work and expenditure of nearly $100,000 for cleaning and scouring the ship's fuel tanks, stripping off all of her doors, removing small, loose objects throughout the ship, the Aeolus was ready for tow to her final resting place 22 miles south of Beaufort Inlet off Morehead City, North Carolina.  Tens of thousands of dollars of nautical equipment was left onboard the ship because it was not cost effective to remove them. This meant divers would have treasures to recover from the vessel once it settled to the bottom.  In July 1988, after several weeks of delays, the Aeolus was towed by the Wilmington towing tug to its appointed resting place eight miles from the site of the World War II sinking of the German U-board, U-352, a popular North Carolina wreck dive. At the site, 38 pounds of high explosive was attached to the inside of her hull about fifteen feet below the waterline. Twenty minutes later, the charges blew four, two-foot holes in her hull and the mighty ship began to sink. Unfortunately, two of the charges on the port side became dislodged by the water in her hold before detonation leaving only the starboard charges to do their necessary work. The result was an immediate list to starboard. The Aeolus took just minutes to sink to the bottom 105 feet beneath the surface where she came to rest on her starboard side.  Divers and fishermen have been visiting the site continuously since its sinking.  The ship is huge on the bottom. On weekends, a dozen dive boats may be seen anchored on the site. The visibility on the site is in excess of 100 feet during the dive season. Marine life has already begun to grow on the ship's surfaces.  Divers may be tempted to enter the ship to investigate it's many rooms and passageways. Such endeavors should be undertaken with extreme caution as there is much debris inside which could present serious problems. There is more than enough ship to see from the outside and its relatively shallow depth makes a good introduction to North Carolina's wreck diving.


Transition from troop ship to cable ship to artificial reef was part of the ship's life. Some ships are torched into history at the end of their maritime lives, some sink ignominiously into water too deep to be seen by anyone again, while others sink and live again.  Forty-three years ago, the ocean carried the Aeolus home along with the lives of many soldiers who had survived the battlefields of the Pacific.  Today, their descendants and others may visit the Aeolus in its new home on the bottom of the ocean where it is once again bringing forth new life.