When The Gales Of November Came Early

Today marks the 42nd anniversary of the wreck of the freighter,

 Edmund Fitzgerald, which sank during a fierce storm over Lake Superior,

the largest of the Great Lakes of North America on November 10, 1975.

Wind and Sea Astern

A painting by Captain Bud Robinson

The ship's ill-fated final voyage was later immortalized in a popular song,
which was written and composed by Canadian singer-songwriter Gordon Lightfoot.

His haunting ballad, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald"

 was released on November 20, 1976 barely a year after the disaster.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down

Of the big lake they call "gitche gumme"

The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead

When the skies of November turn gloomy.

With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more

Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty

That good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed

When the gales of November came early.

The ship was the pride of the American side

Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin

As the freighters go, it was bigger than most

With a crew and a captain well seasoned.

Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms

When they left fully loaded for Cleveland

And later that night when the ship's bell rang

Could it be the north wind they'd been feeling?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound

And a wave broke over the railing

And every man knew, as the captain did too,

T'was the witch of November come stealin'

The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait

When the gales of November came slashin'

When afternoon came it was freezin' rain

In the face of a hurricane west wind.

When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'

Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya

At seven pm a main hatchway caved in, he said,

Fellas it's been good t'know ya

The captain wired in he had water comin' in

And the good ship and crew was in peril

And later that night when his lights went outta sight

Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does anyone know where the love of God goes

When the waves turn the minutes to hours?

The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay

If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her.

They might have split up or they might have capsized

They may have broke deep and took water

All that remains is the faces and the names

Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings,

In the rooms of her ice-water mansion

Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams

The islands and bays are for sportsmen.

And farther below Lake Ontario

Takes in what Lake Erie can send her

And the iron boats go as the mariners all know

With the gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed

In the maritime sailors cathedral

The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times

For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down

Of the big lake they call "gitche gumee"

Superior, they said, never gives up her dead

When the gales of November come early.

"The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald"

(1976)

Written by Gordon Lightfoot

Moose Music Ltd/Early Morning Music Ltd.