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| QUADRA on Rum Row from the photo archives of S.P.H.S© |
During the dry spell the Coast Guard [U.S.] employed a fleet of 22 vessels on Puget Sound alone to cope with rumrunners in nearby waters. The MALAHAT conducted business on a grand scale. She sailed long distances and prepared to lie offshore and serve the smaller craft delivering contraband liquor to dealers on the mainland.
Some idea of the mother ship's routine in rum running can be gained from the account of a ship's officer on one of the MALAHAT's companion vessels, the former lighthouse tender QUADRA. Built in 1891, she was a clipper type, 265 net ton craft with a 120-HP engine. George Winterburn, second engineer, writing in B. C. Magazine in 1957, stated that the supercargo, not the captain, was 'supreme boss" of the expedition. Preparations were made to remain four of five months on rum row. If the ship's stores ran short, launches would bring out from shore whatever was required.
'We loaded up in Vancouver with 22,000 cases of choice liquors, wines, rums, and even a large quantity of beer which was all consigned to Ensenada in Mexico. Papers were arranged to show that we had been there, discharged our cargo and left again with a clear bill of health. This we had before we even left Vancouver. It was a clear, calm, moonlit night when we were proceeding down the Strait of Juan de Fuca toward the open sea when the engine-room telegraph rang down 'STOP.' This was a fine night for doing business and we did plenty of it. Several launches came off to us and upon presenting their credentials, consisting of one half of a one dollar bill that had to be matched with the other half that the supercargo kept, the order that was written on his half-bill was filled and away the man went to shore with his launch full of liquor.
Before daylight we again got under way and did not stop until we were abreast of Astoria, where we conducted more business. It was here that we really sent a lot of liquor ashore, that no doubt found its way to the Portland market. It began to look as if our intended four months' voyage was going to be considerably shortened and we had been at sea barely a week.
We left Astoria for San Francisco where we took up our position just outside of the Farallon Islands, 50 miles offshore from the Golden Gate. It was here that a bad storm hit us, causing us to heave to for a whole week. It was too stormy for any boats to come off, so we could not do any business, nor could we run for shelter from the storm on account of the contraband. All we could do was 'sacking', which mean removing the liquor from the cases and sewing it up in sacks of 12, which were not only easier to handle, but were not quite so obvious to the curious. Finally the storm blew itself out and the weather got warm and balmy. Business was brisk and in no time we were left with only half the cargo.
Two other ships in this vicinity were operating for the same company as they had both been in these waters a long time, it was decided that we would take the remainder of their cargoes, which gave us more than we started out with. Both of these ships were wooden schooners; one a three-master COAL HARBOR, the other a five-master called the MALAHAT. The latter, like ourselves, was also ex-government owned.
While working alongside the MALAHAT, due to a miscalculation in seamanship, we rammed her instead, but as she was built of stout British Columbia fir, it was quite resilient and suffered no damage except a few scratches. Our own ship suffered badly, but remained afloat, as the damage was above the waterline. Our bowsprit was snapped off like a matchstick and our graceful clipper bow stove in, leaving a gaping hole into which we stuffed mattresses to keep the seas out. But each time we dipped into a wave a few tons of water would get past the mattresses and slosh along the 'tween decks, flooding all the cabins.

