Provincetown's Forgotten Maritime Disaster - Cape Cod History

In the courtyard of a beautiful but unassuming church on the East End of Commercial Street in Provincetown, there stands a wooden cross. For a church, this is hardly a surprise. That is, until one approaches the cross and finds two plaques, one on either side.

On the side of the cross facing the church is a square plaque that reads: ‘In Memory of the Officers and Crew of the Submarine S-4. Sunk Off Wood End. Dec. 17, 1927.’ On the side facing Commercial Street is a much larger rectangular plaque. Here one finds the names of all of the men lost. There are forty of them. This is the story of the USS S-4, a deeply tragic and also mostly forgotten disaster.

Despite seeming like a 20th-century invention, the history of the submarine dates back to the late 1500s. It was in 1578 that English mathematician William Bourne first conceived the idea of an undersea vessel. It would, however, take more than forty years to put that idea into action. Dutch inventor Cornelis Drebbel is credited with the physical invention of the submarine. He was able to dive underneath England’s River Thames in 1620.

Over the ensuing three centuries, the submarine as a military vessel would grow and evolve. American colonist David Bushnell created a submarine affectionately known as the ‘Turtle’ in 1775. With hand-cranked propellers, it was meant to be used as a weapon against the British during the Revolutionary War. It was a failure.

In 1800, American inventor Robert Fulton designed his Nautilus submarine. It was seen as more modern, coming equipped with adjustable dive planes and a dual-propulsion system. The H.L. Hunley, a Confederate sub, sank the USS Housatonic during the American Civil War in 1864. It wasn’t until World War I that the submarine became a more common piece of equipment, particularly by the Germans with their U-boats.

The 1920s submarines were far advanced than those of the preceding century. Though not without their own operational difficulties, the U.S. Navy’s S-Class vessels represented the first properly functioning designs. S-4 was a diesel-electric submarine commissioned in 1919. The 231-foot-long steel behemoth was one of fifty-one such ‘Sugar’ boats built between 1918 and 1925. Eight years passed with little fanfare or issue with the S-4. That all changed on the afternoon of December 17, 1927.

The USS S-4(Public Domain)

On December 15th, the S-4 had been refitted at the Portsmouth, New Hampshire Navy Yard. After that, it headed for Cape Cod, captained by R.K. Jones. The S-4 was to be engaged in standard speed and maneuverability trials off the tip of Provincetown near Wood End Lighthouse. During the early afternoon of December 17th, while the S-4, with forty men aboard, was performing submerged runs. Up on the surface, a different sort of patrol was happening.

The 1920s were smack dab in the middle of the Prohibition Era in the United States. Provincetown, with its mass of challenging dunes at Race Point, was a haven for illegal alcohol smuggling. The Coast Guard had dispatched a 740-ton destroyer, USCGC Paulding (CG-17), captained by Lieutenant Commander John S. Baylis, to conduct rum patrols around the tip of Cape Cod.

Baylis had just investigated one schooner off Wood End and was headed back into Provincetown Harbor. In the days before radar and sonar, it was incredibly difficult for a ship to know the position of a submarine. What happened next was catastrophic.

The Paulding in 1918(Public Domain)

At about 3:37pm, while the S-4 was surfacing from a submerged run, the Paulding, which was steaming nearby, struck the sub at a speed of 18 knots. Accounts describe the telescope of the S-4 surfacing near the Paulding’s bow, less than seventy-five yards away. Ensign P. Miller, the man on watch for the Paulding, thought it was a fish stick, the marker fishermen use for their nets.

The destroyer collided with the submarine’s hull, punching holes that quickly flooded compartments. The S-4 rolled over and sank bow first within minutes to the bottom, roughly 130 feet down, less than a mile off Wood End.

The Paulding stopped and launched a lifeboat, but there were no men to be found. They all had gone down in the submarine. The ship next dropped a buoy to mark where the S-4 had gone down. To save itself from also sinking, the Coast Guard vessel had to run itself aground at Long Point with a gaping wound.

Immediately, the Coast Guard and Navy dispatched vessels, divers, and salvage specialists. Captain Adolphus Andrews, commander of the Submarine Base in New London, Connecticut, was ordered to send all available vessels to the site. Word reached President Calvin Coolidge, who expressed regret and intense anxiety over the disaster.

Divers reached the hull and established that many of the crew had moved into dry compartments. It was only a slight hope, since sealed compartments could mean survivors if rescuers could keep them supplied with air and prevent flooding.

Communication was established with men trapped in the forward torpedo room by divers and the surface commanders. The men inside replied with a series of taps on the hull, demonstrating that at least six were known to be alive there in the hours after the sinking. Time was of the essence as some of the naval officers gave the crew roughly three days to survive under the water. It was seen as a 1000-1 shot, but it was enough of a chance for the rescuers.

Unfortunately, winter storms, rough seas, strong currents, and the limited depth technology of the era repeatedly hampered rescue operations. Teams attempted to rig air hoses and pumps to the submarine and to use divers to keep lines attached and to feed air into compartments. The weather and wreckage complexity repeatedly forced pauses in the operation. Over several days, rescuers worked frantically; the men in the torpedo room continued to send taps and other signals for some period.

Ultimately, after days of fits and starts in deteriorating conditions, those survivors succumbed before divers could effectively extract them. In the end, all forty on board died. Those aboard the S-4 included officers, enlisted men, a Naval officer, and a civilian. It was noted afterward that the thirty-two men found in the engine room had likely died within hours of the collision due to either drowning or asphyxiation, thanks to carbon dioxide.

The story of the horrific collision and the loss of all on board the S-4 was nationwide news. It stunned locals who could see the buoys that had been left on the surface above the location of the doomed vessel by the submarine tender Wandank. In the end, those buoys would be used for the salvage mission.

Secretary of the Navy Curtis D. Wilbur (2nd from left) during salvage work of S-4 in March 1928. Captain Ernest King and Lieutenant Henry Hartley in charge of the salvage operation, are first and second from right, while Rear Admiral Philip Andrews (left) looks on.(Public Domain)

Despite the massive loss of life on the S-4, the vessel was not a total loss. An experienced salvage force was sent to Cape Cod. This included Captain Ernest J. King, Commander Edward Ellsberg, other senior Navy and Coast Guard officers, and local crews from Provincetown.

Over the winter and into early 1928, divers and salvage crews worked to attach lifting pontoons and cables. After months of difficult work, a successful raising and tow to the Boston Navy Yard occurred in March 1928. S-4 was later repaired and returned to service as a test and training vessel before final decommissioning in the 1930s.

The S-4 being towed to Boston Navy Yard.(Public Domain)

In the end, though it was an accident, there was blame to be placed. Lieutenant Walter J. MacGregor, commanding officer in the Naval Militia, placed the blame on Prohibition. He said in an interview in the immediate aftermath that the vessels out searching for rum runners go where they please, while the submarines stick to very specific routes. The crew of the Paulding was not blamed for the accident. It was however used as a battle cry for those looking for the repeal of Prohibition. This ended up happening in December 1933.

One of the most important legacies of the S-4 tragedy was pressure to improve submarine escape and rescue capability. The limits of the 1920s response, weather-vulnerable diving operations, no standardized submarine rescue chamber, and primitive escape equipment for individual submariners became painfully obvious. The loss of S-4, which came after an earlier disaster involving the S-51 submarine in 1925, pushed submarine professionals and the Navy bureaucracy to accelerate research into reliable rescue tools.

Two major innovations that came soon after the S-4 disaster were first the creation of the Momsen ‘lung.’ These were individual escape breathing devices. The other innovation was the McCann Submarine Rescue Chamber. This was a chamber that could be lowered to a distressed submarine in up to 850 feet of water. The chamber later proved its worth in the 1939 rescue of 33 men from USS Squalus, the first large-scale successful deep submarine rescue.

Beyond equipment, the S-4 tragedy contributed to procedural and cultural changes: improved training, standardized rescue ships and teams, new communications/telephone buoys and mating procedures, better watertight doors and bulkhead designs, and even hazard pay reforms for submariners, all measures aimed at reducing the chance that a similar accident would end in total loss.

Cape Cod paid homage to those lost on the S-4. On the tenth anniversary of the disaster, December 17, 1937, services were held at the Church of St. Mary of the Harbor. After the services, the pastor, Reverend Robert Wood Nicholson, dedicated a timber cross adorned with a pair of plaques commemorating those lives lost. It was fitting that the cross was fashioned from wood salvaged from another shipwreck off Cape Cod.

It has been nearly a century since forty men lost their lives in a horrific but seemingly unavoidable accident off Provincetown. The wooden cross, standing in the courtyard of the Church of St. Mary of the Harbor, is the only reminder of the tragedy that happened just offshore.

Cape Cod, especially the Atlantic Ocean side from Eastham to Provincetown, has a legacy of being a haven for shipwrecks. Sadly, many of those wrecks, and the people who went down on them, become lost to time. Such is the same fate of the forty men lost on the submarine S-4. If one is taking a stroll down Commercial Street, stop into the courtyard and pay respects to those lives lost in Provincetown’s forgotten maritime disaster.

Those lost aboard the S-4

Hurricanes Carol and Edna: New England's Twin Tempests of 1954

New England has had more than its fair share of powerful hurricanes cross its path over the centuries. From as far back as the Great Colonial Hurricane of 1635 to Hurricane Bob in 1991, these forces of nature have scarred and reshaped the region's landscape.

The only saving grace when it comes to such vicious tempests is the fact that they are few and far between. This gives the region ample time to restore and rebuild.

What if that wasn’t the case though? What if a powerful hurricane was nearly immediately followed by another? No, it is not a plot for a new disaster movie. It is something that actually happened in New England. 70 years ago those fears became reality.

This is the story of Hurricane Carol and Hurricane Edna, the twin tempests of 1954.

Busy Atlantic hurricane seasons are common. The years leading up to 1954 were no different. New England had seen a few major storms rampage across the region in the previous few decades.

The Great New England Hurricane of 1938 was a Category 3 that rumbled through the region in September 1938. It carried sustained winds as high as 121mph at Blue Hill in Massachusetts. Blue Hill also recorded the highest wind gust at a whopping 186mph.

The Great Atlantic Hurricane of 1944 was weaker but still extremely dangerous as a strong Category 1 storm. It steamrolled over the east coast in September 1944.

Damage in West Yarmouth, MA after the 1944 hurricane(Public Domain).

After the 1944 storm, the Atlantic waters were relatively quiet. No hurricanes or even tropical storms made landfall in New England. There were still dangerous hurricanes that struck the United States in general. These included Hurricanes Easy(Category 3) and King(Category 4) which devastated Florida within 6 weeks of each other in 1950. There was also Hurricane Able(Category 2) which plowed into Georgia in 1952(and yes it is spelled Able, not Abel).

For the New England region though the decade of relative quiet was quite literally the calm before the storm.

A typical hurricane season runs from June through November with August through October being the peak for development. The Atlantic Hurricane season of 1954 began rather benignly with an unspectacular unnamed tropical storm forming in the last week of May. The first hurricane (Alice) was a Category 2 that struck Texas during the last week of June.

The fact that the first 3 tropical storms had passed only a few hundred miles off of the New England coast was an ominous sign for the second half of the season. The last week of August proved to be the start of something unprecedented.

Hurricane Carol: The First Blow

Hurricane Carol was the first major hurricane of the 1954 Atlantic hurricane season. It originated near the Bahamas on August 25, 1954, and was the third named storm of the season after Alice and Barbara.

Carol rapidly intensified as it moved northward becoming a hurricane on August 27^th. It eventually reached Category 3 status with winds exceeding 120 mph as it passed North Carolina’s Outer Banks. The storm ran parallel to the East Coast eventually making landfall first on Long Island and then in the area around Old Saybrook, Connecticut on August 31.

Beached boats after Carol in Marblehead, MA(Samuel Chamberlain)

The impact on New England was massive. This included wiping out nearly half of the apple, corn, peach, and tomato crops along the southern coast. The hurricane's powerful winds and heavy rainfall caused widespread devastation. More than 3,000 boats and 3,000 automobiles were destroyed in the storm with more than 150,000 people being left without power.

In total Carol claimed 65 lives and caused over $460 million in damage (about $5.4 billion in 2024). More than 150,000 homes and businesses were destroyed or severely damaged. The storm uprooted trees, downed power lines, and disrupted transportation networks. Coastal areas suffered severe erosion, and many boats and ships were damaged or sunk.

WBZ-TV tower in Brighton, MA crushing an automobile.(George Dixon)

Making landfall just after high tide Carol caused massive flooding. New Bedford, Massachusetts saw a storm surge of over 14 feet. The highest recorded wind gust was on Block Island off the coast of Rhode Island. There the wind reached 135mph. More than 20,000 people evacuated Cape Cod ahead of Carol. Even up into Canada’s Quebec province damage from Carol topped $1 million CAD($11.68 million US/$16.07 million CAD in 2024).

The Red Cross Civil Defense team was on hand immediately after gathering the data used above. It would take months, perhaps in some cases years, to fully recover from Hurricane Carol. Unfortunately, New England had less than two weeks of calm.

Hurricane Edna: The Second Strike

On September 2^nd, a mere 24 hours after the remnants of Hurricane Carol passed north into the Arctic Ocean, a new storm was forming. Hurricane Edna formed east of Barbados.

Carol had traveled parallel to the United States east coast, and Edna traveled parallel to Carol’s path just slightly more eastward. Edna rapidly gained strength, becoming a Category 3 hurricane with peak winds of 125 mph by September 8^th.

How would New England prepare for a second powerful hurricane in a matter of weeks? At first, there was thought they wouldn’t have to. Some forecasters in New England weather offices were putting out a theory as late as September 9^th that Hurricane Edna would drift in the Atlantic before ultimately fizzling out. The hundreds of thousands of New Englanders still cleaning up Carol’s mess, some still without power, hoped that to be the case. Sadly, it was not.

Boston Globe, September 11, 1954

When it slammed into New England in the morning on September 11, 1954, Hurricane Edna compounded the devastation left by Carol, affecting much of the same areas still recovering.

The eye of the storm passed near Martha’s Vineyard bringing a brief eerie calm to Cape Cod. When it ramped back up Edna ended up being strong, but not as strong as Carol. A small bit of luck had Edna not making landfall at the time of high tide, sparing some weary coastal areas from a true double-dip of damage.

Though slightly less catastrophic Edna still packed a punch. Edna brought torrential rain, leading to severe flooding in many areas. Rivers and streams overflowed, inundating homes and businesses. The top wind gust of 120mph occurred on Martha’s Vineyard close to the eye of the storm. Many homes, businesses, and boats damaged by Carol were finished off by Edna.

Edna resulted in 20 fatalities and caused an estimated $42 million in damage (about $419 million in 2024). While the storm's damage was less severe than Carol’s, it added to the cumulative impact on New England’s infrastructure and economy. Though not as severe as Carol in Southern New England, Edna would end up being the costliest hurricane in the history of Maine. President Dwight Eisenhower called parts of the state a ‘disaster area.’

The Red Cross returned to the area while thousands of telephone and electrical workers poured into the affected towns to get amenities back up and running. According to New England Telephone & Telegraph, more than 260,000 homes were left without telephone service after Edna. This was actually 10,000 more homes than Hurricane Carol.

The back-to-back hurricanes of 1954 left a profound mark on New England. Carol and Edna caused extensive damage to the fishing industry, with numerous boats destroyed and fishing infrastructure damaged. The tourism sector also suffered. Summer ostensibly came to an end with the approach of Carol as people fled. Any hope of a return of summer after was dashed with many summer homes and tourist facilities being damaged or destroyed.

The combined storm surges and heavy rainfall led to severe beach erosion and changes in coastal landscapes. Carol and Edna highlighted the need for better disaster preparedness and response mechanisms. Communities in New England, including those on Cape Cod where 95% had been without power during Edna, invested in improved infrastructure. This included stronger seawalls and better drainage systems, to mitigate the impact of future storms.

The names of both storms, Carol and Edna, were retired from tropical naming. A bit of good that came from the 1954 storms was the United States government devoting research to start the National Hurricane Research Project. This later became known as the National Hurricane Research Laboratory and is a permanent institution within the Weather Bureau.

In the 70 years since the double header of Hurricanes Carol and Edna things have been relatively quiet on the storm front in New England.

Hurricane Donna in 1960 was a strong Category 1 when it made landfall in Connecticut, even reaching a peak wind gust of 140mph at the Blue Hill Observatory.

Hurricane Gloria in 1985 was also a Category 1 storm when it hit New England. Rehoboth, Massachusetts reported a tornado and a wind gust of 120mph.

Hurricane Bob in 1991 was a Category 2 when it made landfall in Rhode Island. This storm has been the closest in terms of strength in New England since Hurricane Carol.

Hurricane Bob's track in 1991(NWS Boston)

Besides an array of near-misses and weaker tropical disturbances, it has been few and far between when it comes to hurricanes in New England. This fact only amplifies how unique and deadly the twin storms of 1954 were. Lives were lost, property was destroyed, and parts of the environment were permanently changed.

Thankfully events like major hurricanes striking so closely after one another are a part of the ‘once every hundred years’ occurrences. Though as it has been 70 years since Carol and Edna the ‘hundred years’ continues to draw closer.