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British Columbia history that informs readers while entertaining them.

Former Chemainus Shopkeeper Made Maritime History

Former Chemainus Shopkeeper Made Maritime History

NEWS ITEM: Shades of John Claus Voss!

Now attempting to complete an unassisted, non-stop circumnavigation of the globe is 76-year-old Jeanne Socrates who cleared Victoria, B.C. Harbour, Oct. 3, 2018 in her 38-foot sailboat. Incredibly, she already has “3 1/2 solo sails around the world” under her belt and has twice before attempted to achieve her current goal. The English mother and grandmother is raising money for the Royal National Lifeboat Institution in England, which gives search-and-rescue training and provides equipment….

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Half-way round the world in a 38-foot-long dugout canoe!

It was done, you know, more than a century ago, by a 40-year-old man almost as small as his boat—five-foot, two-inch John Claus Voss.

To this day, his voyage is considered to be “one of the most remarkable feats in the history of seamanship”.

It all started with a chance conversation in Victoria. Journalist Norman Luxton, discussing Joshua Slocum’s solo circumnavigation of the globe in a small boat, mused aloud over the possibility of anyone accomplishing the same feat in an even smaller craft.

With all the assurance of a bantam rooster, Voss flatly stated that it was not only possible but rather easy. The former Chemainus merchant quietly explained that a watertight box didn’t sink—neither would a boat that was watertight above and below the waterline.

Luxton, aware that his Prussian friend had sailed the 10-ton sloop Xora to Cocos Island in search of treasure, impulsively offered to obtain financing for such a venture and to serve as crewman.

Voss must have had the hardy canoes of Vancouver Island First Nations in mind from the start. He found his craft, a 50-year-old dugout canoe. It was slightly smaller than Slocum’s Spray and he closed the deal for $75 and a bottle of whisky.

(In his memoir, The Venturesome Voyages of Captain Voss, he acknowledged that, evn though the Indian Agent was a personal friend, he’d have received three months in jail if caught supplying liqour to the Native seller, who was so pleased with the deal that he insisted on giving Voss his father’s skull for a good luck charm.)

Voss strengthened the red cedar hull (carved from a single log) with oak ribs, laid a heavy keel and deck, and stepped three masts. When battened down his Tilikum (Chinook trade jargon for ‘friend’) would ship no water through deck or hatches.

She could roll completely over without filling and sinking.

Tilikum

Tilikum on display in the old maritime Museum

Tilikum‘s overall length, including her figurehead, was 38 feet, her beam (width) less than six feet. When loaded with three months’ provisions, including Voss’s arsenal (two rifles, a shotgun, a revolver and plentiful ammunition, plus a small-bore Spanish cannon he’d found when digging sand for ballast)—she had only 14 inches freeboard.

On July 6, 1901 Voss kissed his wife and daughter goodbye and, with landlubber Luxton, cast off from Victoria. Their first gale, five days out, almost washed Luxton away as he crawled along the bucking five-foot-wide deck on hands and knees, at Voss’s order, to drop the sea anchor.

The wave broke harmlessly over him but the instant shifting of balance caught Voss offguard at the tiller and it was only with difficulty and considerable skill that he brought Tilikum back under control.

They endured further weeks of stormy weather and cramped living conditions before they reached the Fiji Islands. There, warned against continuing by a fortune teller, and tired of life aboard tiny Tilikum, Luxton opted for a steamship to Sydney, Australia, where he’d rejoin Voss.

When Voss eventually reached Sydney, he was alone, his young Tasmanian mate who’d replaced Luxton having been washed overboard.

That was too much for Luxton who refused to continue and urged Voss to quit too. Luxton returned to Canada but the little Prussian wasn’t to be dismayed and, with a series of mates, he braved further dangers over the next three years as he touched at Tasmania, New Zealand, South Africa, South America and, finally, England.

By the time he tied up at Margate, he’d: fought off South Pacific cannibals with his cannon; sailed Tilikum on Australia’s inland, man-made Lake Ballarat (the first deep-sea vessel to do so); rescued a mate who was knocked unconscious and swept overboard during one of the countless storms; successfully sued a hauling firm for dropping Tilikum and cracking her fragile hull; run out of drinking water in mid-Indian Ocean; and almost run out of grub in mid-Atlantic.

England hailed the intrepid navigator as a hero and he grossed considerable money by charging admission to the thousands who wished to view the tiny Tilikum. Finally he sold the canoe for 60 pounds sterling to two Thames River yachtsmen who installed an engine and used her for river navigation.

When she broke down several years later, they left her to rot on a mudbank.

Returning to sea, Voss sailed alone acros the Pacific. He died in Caliornia in 1922, aged about 68 years.

Norman Luxton, the adventurous Canadian journalist, remained on dry land and became one of Alberta’s most respected businessmen until his death, at the age of 85, in 1962.

The abandoned Tilikum was ultimately rescued and returned to Victoria—in effect completing her circumnavigation of the globe. She’s now a prized possession of the Maritime Museum of British Columbia, Victoria.

A former friend once expressed his wonderment of Voss’s brief career as a Cowichan Valley shopkeeper: “…To think that [he] used to sell black sausages right here in Chemainus!”

2 Comments

  1. Thanks for the story of the Tilikum. I remember as a kid visiting the museum in Bastion Square, but at that time I was too young to realize the importance of that marvelous little ship and the man that sailed her. Pretty gutsy if you ask me.

    • Hi again, Brian.
      When I was a kid growing up in Victoria, the Tilikum was on display in an open shed (like a carport) in Thunderbird Park. This was long before it went indoors at the B.C. Maritime Museum. Kids would play on it!
      Also at Thunderbird Park, we would watch Mungo Martin working his totem pole magic with his carving tools.
      Too bad they’re not making the good old days any more, eh?

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