The Wreck of the Peter Iredale

Twas the twenty fifth of October,
In the year of Nineteen O Six,
As a Lad just learning to know her,
Mine experience needing a fix,
She ran aground with Captain an Crew,
Peter Iredale were my first love,
Her fine men the best that I knew,
I prayed as her sails screamed above,
Sailing confident from Salina Cruz,
Liberty bound for fair Portland,
Our scuttlebutt were but old news,
Daring not look to the sand,
One thousand tons of ballast,
Twenty and Seven brave Crew,
Two castaways treated callous,
In the gale the ensign flew,
by Captain, Lighthouse were sighted,
In thick mist and a rising tide,
Our course first east-northeast was righted,
Hoping God were at our side,
And then northeast to the Columbia,
Under strong winds out of the west,
Tore sails like petals of euphoria,
Ashamed my courage failed this test,
We fought to wear the ship from shore,
On Clatsop Sands a northwest squall,
High seas an wind drove her ashore,
Sure of death nigh our spirits fall,
Grounded the Peter Iredale on the Spit,
Where She lay forlorn forever more
Decades later my shame is fit,
And for those not there only lore,
A Hammond lifeboat spirited us away,
Good Captain Lawrence's final toast,
In tribute of this fateful day,
Doing our best to make the most,
"May God bless you, Peter Iredale,
and may your bones bleach in the sands."
Hearing the words our souls did wail,
Sweet ship now lay in Neptune's hands...


The Peter Iredale was a four-masted steel barque sailing vessel that ran ashore October 25, 1906, on the Oregon coast en route to the Columbia River. It was abandoned on Clatsop Spit near Fort Stevens in Warrenton about four miles (6 km) south of the Columbia River channel. Wreckage is still visible, making it a popular tourist attraction as one of the most accessible shipwrecks of the Graveyard of the Pacific.

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