The coast of Oxnard, California was stormy on April 13, 1970. Gale-force winds blew about and rocked the nearly 500-foot cruise ship until her starboard anchor began dragging. There was little that the two crew members aboard could do to stop it. Less than 30 minutes later, the ship grounded itself on nearby Silver Strand Beach. The ship, La Jenelle, began listing to port as water poured in from smashed windows and portholes. The US Navy dispatched a helicopter to rescue the two stranded crewmen.
Unsurprisingly, La Jenelle brought out sightseers. In a scene reminiscent of Asbury Park when the blazing Morro Castle came ashore (though without the festively macabre atmosphere), crowds flocked to the wreck. People paddled out and boarded the capsized ship to explore. Souvenir hunters stripped La Jenelle bare. A mysterious fire later gutted what was left of the wreck.
In 1973, California lawmakers passed a bill to convert La Jenelle into a fishing jetty. Governor Ronald Reagan signed it into law and gave $1.4 million for the project. The Navy cut off La Jenelle’s superstructure in pieces and sunk it several miles offshore for an artificial reef. The rest of the wreck was filled in with rocks and concrete.
And there La Jenelle remains to this day.
Locals love the shipwreck, and its name and image can be found around the city. The ship was even the basis for La Jenelle Park. People have a rough idea of its history and the fact that it sailed under five names: Borinquen, Puerto Rico, Arosa Star, Bahama Star, and finally La Jenelle.
Few realize, however, that — as the Bahama Star — she figured prominently in one of the most significant (albeit forgotten) maritime disasters in modern history. Like the Carpathia and the Île de France before her, she rescued hundreds off a stricken ship and brought them safely ashore.
The Yarmouth Castle Disaster
On November 12, 1965, the Bahama Star departed Miami, Florida for Nassau, the Bahamas. Leaving that same afternoon on the same itinerary was a former Eastern Shipping Corporation fleetmate of hers, the Yarmouth Castle. The Bahama Star’s master, 29-year-old Captain Carl Brown, knew the ship well and had even sailed aboard her under her previous name, Evangeline. He remembered watching workers on the renamed Yarmouth Castle. “We saw them chiseling the letters off the bow — Evangeline. Somebody said, ‘Boy, they’re gonna be in for trouble now.’”
Both cruise ships were old, converted ocean liners. The Bahama Star was launched on September 24, 1930; the Yarmouth Castle on February 12, 1927. Both vessels had been requisitioned as troopships during World War II. Bahama Star, as USAT Borinquen, had even supported the D-Day landings at Normandy. Now, in the 1960s, both ships were being used for budget-friendly cruises to the Bahamas.
As the afternoon turned into evening, the Bahama Star sailed a few miles behind Yarmouth Castle. Ahead of them both was a Finnish freighter, the MV Finnpulp. Everything seemed routine aboard all three ships as midnight drew closer.
Hell was about to break loose.
At some point after 1 am, the Bahama Star was sailing 12 miles behind Yarmouth Castle. It was just a few miles off Great Stirrup Cay, the Bahamas. On the bridge, Captain Brown saw “a red smudge on the horizon.” He could tell it was a fire and immediately steamed towards it. The Finnpulp, which had been eight miles ahead of Yarmouth Castle, was already enroute to the scene. No distress call had been sent out, but it was clear that the ship was in trouble.
When Bahama Star arrived, there was chaos and panic aboard the blazing ship. Yarmouth Castle’s captain, Byron Voutsinas, had abandoned ship on one of the first lifeboats and tried to seek refuge on the nearby Finnpulp (he was refused and told to go back to his ship). As such, there was no organized effort to get passengers off the stricken cruise ship. Captain Brown pulled his ship to within 100 yards of Yarmouth Castle. The Bahama Star’s lifeboats swung out and lowered to help rescue those still trapped on the Yarmouth Castle. The ship was so close that the paint on its funnel bubbled in the heat.
Captain Brown later recalled:
It was a real calamity. There were people gathered on the stern, which was the best place to be because the fire was forward. The hottest part of the fire was right forward of the smokestack. And the bridge was in that area, and the radio room was in that area. And they were made of teak wood, so they were burning fiercely when we got there. And soon after we arrived, the bridge collapsed. And there were passengers on the bow of the Yarmouth Castle. And they were safe there. It’s just that they couldn’t go aft because this vicious fire was blocking their way.
In a scene reminiscent of the Île de France’s arrival at the sinking Andrea Doria’s side, every light on the Bahama Star was turned towards the Yarmouth Castle. Via megaphone, Captain Brown told relieved passengers that he was sending lifeboats over and to look before jumping into the water. He didn’t realize at the time that — with the exception of some heroic crew members like Third Purser Terry Wise acting on their own initiative — there’d been no organized effort to evacuate passengers.
The last survivors left Yarmouth Castle by 4 am. In all, the Bahama Star picked up 373 survivors. The Finnpulp had 92 aboard. Tragically, 87 people lost their lives in the inferno, with another three later dying of their injuries. The Yarmouth Castle burned for two more hours before capsizing and gave off a mournful moan. She sank at 6:03 am on November 13, 1965.
Bahama Star and Finnpulp made their way to Nassau with the Yarmouth Castle’s survivors aboard.
Aftermath
Several factors contributed to the disaster.
A night watchman failed to detect the fire, which originated in a converted storage room on Main Deck. It was full of mattresses, chairs, and other flammable materials. It’s unknown how the fire started, but the lack of sprinklers in the room ensured that it would burn uninterrupted. Once the crew found the fire and opened the door, the rush of oxygen fueled the fire. The flames spread quickly via the nearby stairwell.
The Yarmouth Castle’s officers failed to immediately sound the general alarm. Passengers trapped in their staterooms were unable to get out because the portholes had been painted shut. Similarly, many of the ship’s lifeboat davits were also painted over to the point of being unusable. Crew firefighting efforts were dismal at best.
The Yarmouth Castle’s radio room burnt up early in the blaze, so a distress call was unable to be sent. This led Captain Voutsinas to try the emergency radio in Lifeboat No. 3, but it was also on fire. He later claimed that he left the Yarmouth Castle to try and send out a distress call from one of the rescue vessels. Voutsinas was found to be negligent in his actions that night.
As a Panamanian-flagged vessel, the Yarmouth Castle didn’t have to conform to the strict American safety standards adopted after the Morro Castle disaster in September 1934. Despite this, the ship passed a safety inspection just three weeks before the fire.
The Yarmouth Castle disaster resulted in revisions to the International Safety of Life at Sea (SOLAS) law. New rules included that all ships carrying more than 50 overnight passengers had to be built entirely of non-combustible materials. Ironically, the Bahama Star was withdrawn from service due to the high costs associated with bringing her up to compliance.
The Bahama Star was sold and, in 1969, renamed La Jenelle. Her new owners brought her to Port Hueneme, California to await the next chapter of her already lengthy career. To avoid dockage fees, she was moored outside the harbor until driven aground on April 13, 1970.
Visiting the La Jenelle Wreck Site
Back in August, we were in Long Beach, California for a cruise aboard the Carnival Firenze. After disembarking, we met my family for brunch aboard the Queen Mary (always a great time!) and then made the two-hour drive to Oxnard. After living in New Mexico for a few years, I’d forgotten how bad LA traffic could get…even on a Sunday. But we made pretty good time overall. We wanted to make sure we were there at low tide.
La Jenelle’s wreck is part of La Jenelle Park on Silver Strand Beach, but getting there can be tricky. It’s located right next to a US Navy base and GPS seems to want to take you right through it. Needless to say, don’t do this! The beach entrance is at Sawtelle Avenue and Ocean Drive. What we ended up doing was look for the nearby Beachcomber Tavern. There’s a small parking lot at the beach, but also plenty of street parking as well.
Keeping to the left from the parking lot, you’ll eventually find yourself at La Jenelle. My heart skipped a beat or two as we walked up to the breakwater. There, sticking out of the rocks, were the unmistakable features of an old, rusted ship.
Water constantly ebbs and flows through the wreck. A significant portion of La Jenelle is submerged at high tide and the surf can be pretty intense. Since it was low tide, however, this wasn’t too much of an issue as we explored the ship.
Reasonable sure of my footing, I decided to go “inside.” I couldn’t believe that I was actually “in” the Bahama Star!
There’s much more to the wreck than first appears. Rusted ribs and deck remnants are what catches the attention first. But if you look closely, you’ll see all sorts of things: pipes, walkways, ladders, wires, and more. I was particularly excited to find some parts of (what I’m pretty sure were) the ship’s oil-fired boilers.
My wife and I spent close to two hours exploring the wreck. Periodically, we’d stand together and marvel: this was the ship that played such a big role in the Yarmouth Castle disaster. The fact that Bahama Star/La Jenelle ended up in California (our home state) of all places is mindboggling to us.
It took some time to get my bearings. La Jenelle capsized at an angle of about 60 degrees. Her upper decks were scrapped roughly level with the existing breakwater. As a result, things like engineering walkways resemble ladders. It can be a little disorienting at times.
The Bahama Star/La Jenelle is a popular place for people to explore. A couple camped out at the stern for what looked like a deep or serious conversation for what seemed like ages. Not wanting to intrude, this prevented us from exploring that section of the wreck until they finally left.
The tide rose as the day grew later. Before we left, however, I wanted to see if there was anything left of the rudder. Sure enough, there it was! La Jenelle’s stern was stuck in the same exact position as it was in 1970. There was even a little bit of her counter stern left intact as well.
While there’s still plenty of La Jenelle to be seen today, much of her has been reclaimed by the sea in the almost 50 years she’s been a breakwater. The pounding surf is slowly breaking up the ex-Bahama Star. Photos from even a few years ago show a drastic change to the wreck. There’ll be nothing left of this heroic ship before long.
Until the sea totally takes her, however, La Jenelle persists. She is a silent witness to what happened 59 years ago today when, as the Bahama Star, she came to the aid of a blazing cruise ship just off Great Stirrup Cay.