The Kershaw Runs Aground

In 1920 or thereabouts the Kershaw was grounded on the inner bar right in front of the Culver bathing house (Main Beach, East Hampton).

She came ashore at night - probably mistaking the Montauk Lighthouse. We have had many wrecks on the shores of the Hamptons but this is the one I remember the most.

The Kershaw was a fairly small freighter, probably 275 feet in length and shoal draft. She was upright and the waves were breaking across her stern.

As I learned later, she was loaded with bags of peanuts and a goodly cargo of tobacco. Mostly chewing tobacco.

The Georgica Life Saving Station had been notified and had a self-bailing pulling boat (rowboat) there, with a crew of six, I believe. It was about 8 a.m. when they first got there and quite a few beachcombers had already showed up.

The life-saving crew were mostly local young men with experience rowing in the surf. However, as I stood there watching with a bunch of other local folks looking on, she took a large wave over her bow and filled with water.

The boat was then impossible to row and the crew jumped out or floated out. The water was shoal enough to pull the lifeboat up out of the surf.

As I stood on the shore watching the self-bailing lifeboat hauled up on the beach, Capt. E.J. Edwards came down. We asked E.J. if he thought he could get a surfboat out to the stranded freighter.

After a couple of minutes of silent thought he said, "Well, I guess if I had my own dory and my own crew I could get out to her."

About two hours later down came E.J. with his 18 dory and his crew - mostly Hulse boys. Captain E.J. had on his hip boots, oilskins, and a so'wester.

They launched the boat to the edge of the surf. Captain E.J. got in the stern with his steering oar and the Hulse boys with their oars in the rowlocks. Soon a large wave came up and washed around the dory and away went Captain E.J. and the Hulse boys pulling away on the oars. In no time they were out to the wreck.

Several hours later E.J. and the Hulse boys returned through surf and landed on the beach. All in the day's work, it seemed.

E.J. brought back the news that the Kershaw would be hauled out the next day after unloading some of the cargo of peanuts and chewing tobacco.

The Kershaw was pulled off the reef and, I believe, taken to New York and drydocked for repairs.

Of course, for the next couple days the surf and shore was covered with peanut bags and large cases of tobacco. Needless to say, this was rapidly salvaged by the Edwards Brothers. I spent several days in Dr. David Edwards's garage with Dr. Edwards picking the tinfoil off the tobacco and drying it on the floor of the barn.

Of course none of us chewed tobacco but maybe Dr. Dave gave it to his patients. No, tobacco won't kill you if you eat it. Only when you inhale the smoke - and who smokes?

Some years later, Ronnie Marasca and I, several times, rowed E.J. out to his brother on a fishing steamer off the beach.

He told us, as we took our oars, "Just look at my face and what I say, and do what I say."

As a boy I always thought of E.J. as a druggist, or the man who turned off the water when you didn't pay your water bill. He was president of the Home Water Company.

The Edwards family has meant a lot to East Hampton through the years. Dr. Dave brought me and most of the kids in East Hampton into this world.

Edward Monroe Osborne still lives in East Hampton. He is in his early 90s.