During the age of steam, the steamboats of Long Island Sound, transporting people to and from New York and the cities in New England, had developed into large, elegant vessels. These large and beautiful floating palaces, flags flying, boasted the latest in service and luxury with white tablecloths, uniformed servants, ornate furnishings, gourmet cuisine, and comfortable staterooms contributing to a special travel experience.
Steamboat captains were also a special breed and were treated like celebrities by the public. Part of their job, besides the vessel’s safe operation, was to make their passengers feel welcome. One of the best and certainly one of biggest, at over 300 pounds, was Captain Horace Clark Lanphear, affectionally known as Pop.
Captain Lanphear was not only the largest steamboat captain but was destined to become one of the most celebrated after he rescued hundreds of people during a terrible night in 1880 when the steamboat Stonington collided with the steamboat Narragansett. The disaster resulted in a major loss of life and would have been much worse if Captain Lanphear had not responded so quickly.
Pop Lanphear’s personality was as big as his bulk. He was modest, good-natured, and famous for his use of profanity, which he had elevated to a fine art. However, there was never any malice in his expletives. In later years he was too modest to discuss his feat of seamanship in the rescue but would brag happily about winning the Fat Man’s Race off New London’s Ocean Beach in 1882.
Pop Lanphear started his sailing career at the age of ten serving as a cook for Captain Dudley Brand of Westerly, RI for $2 a month. One must wonder about the cuisine being prepared by a ten-year-old. However, the following year Captain Brand raised Pop’s salary to $5 a month so he must have liked his cooking.
In 1839 at the age of thirteen he went to work for Captain Ezekiel Rogers and two years later was made mate on the smack Herald. When he turned eighteen, he purchased the smack Commerce but gave it up to go on a whaling voyage aboard the whaleship Robinhood out of Mystic, Connecticut. He was away for thirty-four months hunting whales off the northwest coast of America and north of Japan in the Okhotsk Sea.
In 1859, at the age of thirty-three, he got his first job on a steamboat as a pilot on the old sidewheeler Commodore on her New York run. After six years he transferred to the Norwich Line as first pilot on the City of Boston. He was promoted to captain in 1867 and given his first command of the steamboat City of New London.
His success allowed him to purchase a farm in Waterford, Connecticut in 1877, and three years later he was given command of the Norwich Line’s City of New York, one of the finest and fastest Long Island Sound steamboats at that time.
Friday, June 11, 1880, was a completely ordinary day. The usual crowd had gathered at the steamer dock in Stonington to watch four hundred passengers climb aboard the steamer Stonington, bound for a weekend in the big city. Captain George F. Nye was in command as the vessel cast off her lines and headed for New York.
Around the same time, the sidewheeler Narragansett was leaving her pier in New York City with three hundred passengers on board. She was under the temporary command of Captain William S. Young. She was fully booked, every cabin and berth taken, and many people were forced to sleep on benches and mattresses on the deck. The Narragansett and the Stonington were sister ships built in 1868 each weighing 1,633 tons. Both were well maintained and well captained reflecting the Norwich Line’s motto, “Old Reliable.”
At 11:45 that fateful night the City of New York left her pier in New London bound for New York City on her regular schedule. Captain Lanphear soon encountered thick fog, not an unusual occurrence during the summer in Long Island Sound and one of its main navigational hazards. He slowed the City of New York down and ordered the watch to keep a sharp lookout. He expected to meet the Narragansett as usual coming the other way and when she did not appear he became concerned.
As the City of New York approached Cornfield Light off Old Saybrook the lookout heard bells ringing and reported distress signals off the port bow. Realizing that a vessel was in distress Captain Lanphear ordered full speed ahead. Arriving on the scene he was shocked to see the Stonington with a gaping hole in her bow, her decks filled with people, and the Narragansett listing and on fire. Maneuvering to Stonington his crew took off over one hundred survivors, relieving the leaking vessel. Captain Lanphear saw the water was filled with struggling people, some clinging grimly to life preservers, others hanging onto mattresses, chairs, and doors. Shrieks and cries filled the air. He directed his men to lower the lifeboats, and they began hauling the victims to safety.
Through the mist the eerie light of the Narragansett burning silhouetted figures in the water fighting for their lives. As the Narragansett slowly sank Captain Lanphear, using his seamanship skills, worked to save them. G.W. Johnson of New London, suffering from a head injury, floated for an hour before a boat from the City of New York picked him up. Mrs. Roswell Fish of Mystic and her aged mother were in the water even longer. Captain Lanphear saved them and dozens of others.
When there were no more struggling forms in the water Captain Lanphear put the City of New York back on course to New York. She was carrying over two hundred survivors, many hurt and half-naked, drenched and exhausted. When she arrived at Pier 40 in New York she looked like a hospital ship. More than one hundred people lost their lives that night and that number would have been much higher without the intervention by Captain Lanphear.
Testimonials poured in from all over the country for the splendid rescue work Captain Lanphear had performed. The directors of the steamship company presented him with a handsome set of engraved resolutions.
After the disaster, now renowned for his abilities, Captain Lanphear’s reputation landed him the command of the newly built iron steamboat City of Worcester. She was described as, “Without exception, the most elegant boat on the sound.”
In 1888, after fifty years at sea, Captain Pop Lanphear retired to his farm in Waterford. In his finest hour, he had been the hero of one of the worst steamboat disasters in Long Island Sound. He had managed to save more than two hundred thankful souls from certain death. In all his years as a steamboat captain, he had never damaged a vessel or lost a passenger. A local reporter termed him, “The oldest and possibly the best captain on the Sound.” Pop Lanphear passed away on July 16, 1902.