One dark night Fenwick had made arrangements to meet a by-boat that was anchored with 460 cases of whiskey at the Fourteen Foot Lighthouse in the bay. After Fenwick had loaded the cargo on the Susan C. and the by-boat had disappeared into the darkness, the captain saw the lights of an approaching Coast Guard gunboat.
Fenwick raced his boat at top speed, zigzagging around shoals and bars, but the Coast Guard followed in hot pursuit. Suddenly Fenwick heard one of the motors of his boat choke, sputter, and die out. All hope of outrunning the other boat disappeared, and one thought entered his mind—he must not be caught with the evidence. He knew where he was, on the edge of a familiar sandbar. Fenwick and his mate dumped the last case of whiskey overboard, just before the Coast Guard reached them. The federal men were too late—the evidence had disappeared, and there could be no arrest. After they had gone, Fenwick tied one end of the anchor chain to a life preserver and threw it overboard to mark the spot of the sunken cargo and made the long, slow trip home with only one engine.
That night was not forgotten. Fenwick had purposely dumped the cases in a particular spot, hoping that they would become lodged by the tide against the bar. The next day he hired an oyster captain to dredge at the spot, but there was no trace of the cases. Cursing, the disappointed Fenwick returned home.
Fenwick tells that ten days later he had a fishing party aboard the Susan C. and he anchored about a mile down the bay from where he had lost his cargo. Suddenly a fisherman hooked something heavy on the bottom of the bay. The others watched as he slowly reeled in the line. To everyone’s surprise, the catch was a case of whiskey that had been hooked on one of the wires that had bound it together. Others hooked cases of what had been Fenwick’s loot. “I even caught a few myself,” he says. Those on board called to other boats nearby, and soon others had anchored near the spot and were catching cases for themselves. n
This excerpt is from Whiskey, Sun & Fish by George Carlisle. It’s a story of his wanderings and encounters with local characters at Fortescue, where he had spent much of his childhood fishing and where he returned in 1958 as a college student working on his thesis.
Carlisle will be a guest speaker at the Millville Historical Society (Wood Mansion, 821 Columbia Ave., Millville) on Saturday, October 19, from 1 to 4 p.m. In addition to having his book Whiskey Sun & Fish available that day, he will speak about his grandfather’s (Charles Miskelly’s) book At the Head of the Tide.
“Born in 1881, Charles wrote At the Head of the Tide in the 1940s, based on his memories of growing up in Millville….” Set in circa 1890s the book tells the story of a family living in company housing provided by the glass factory where the father works. It follows a family of four through both humorous and tragic events of turn-of-the-century industrial Millville.
