Disaster on the Delaware

It was late on the evening of April 30th, 1896, and the spring night hung heavy over the Delaware River. A seemingly tranquil family visit had taken an unforeseen turn, plunging the hearts of those involved into a tempest of emotions.

Louisa (Vautier) Adams, a visitor from Philadelphia, had accompanied her neighbor, Mrs. Welsh, for a serene gathering with her sister, Deborah (Vautier) Shimp, and her parents, Francis and Caroline (Sawn) Vautier, in their modest two-story row home in Camden, New Jersey. The house, a witness to the upbringing of their five children, now echoed with the laughter of a new generation. As twilight gave way to night, the house buzzed with familial conversations and the joyful clamor of children at play.

However, as the sun disappeared below the horizon, an impromptu decision cast a shadow on the night. Instead of boarding the ferry back to Philadelphia, the family opted for a moonlit rowboat excursion on the Delaware River. Led by Peter Shimp and his wife, Deborah, accompanied by their children, 11 year old Anna, 8 year old George, and16 month old John they embarked on a journey that would soon be etched into their memories, wrought with tragedy. Deborah, upon seeing the dilapidated condition of the boat and knowing the unpredictable state of the river, adamantly cautioned the group to abandon the trip. In her unwavering conviction, she turned back home, gripping John tightly in her arms, leaving the rest of the group to their fate.

As the clock approached 11 PM, the full moon adorned the sky, casting an otherworldly luminescence upon the water’s surface. In the distance, small boats moved like specters against the backdrop of the Philadelphia skyline, a hauntingly beautiful sight.

Their aging rowboat, protesting with each new occupant, bore the weight of anticipation. Peter, seated on a weathered bench, gripped the splintered oars, and with each stroke, the boat seemed to groan in protest, teetering on the edge of submission. Louisa tirelessly bailed water with a wooden pail, and the passengers shared stories, their voices blending with the rhythmic sounds of the river.

Beneath the facade of camaraderie, an undercurrent of anxiety coursed through them as they recounted near-miss incidents that could have easily capsized their fragile vessel. As the distant lights of Philadelphia beckoned, relief washed over them, accompanied by the distant sounds of the city.

Then, a capricious gust of wind snatched Louisa’s hat, plunging the night into chaos. In her determined effort to retrieve it, she unintentionally upset the boat, sending it gradually sinking into the frigid waters. All five passengers were suddenly immersed in the cold, unforgiving river as their vessel surrendered.

Panic-stricken cries shattered the night’s tranquility, drawing the attention of the nearby fireboat, the Edwin S. Stuart. Foreman Edward A. Waters and his crew swiftly deployed lifelines to the struggling passengers. While none of them possessed swimming skills, Peter, George, and Mrs. Welsh had managed to stay afloat by violently kicking their legs and clung to the lifelines with unwavering determination, their survival instincts ignited. Mrs. Welsh had held on to George so tightly that it was not without difficulty that they were parted once safe on the fireboat.

In the midst of this turmoil, Louisa’s fate took a tragic turn. She struggled fruitlessly to save Anna, but both were engulfed by the inky depths, vanishing like ephemeral shadows beneath the river’s surface.

Peter, still in a state of shock, implored the crew to salvage the boat, only to be told that the missing passengers took precedence. His response, a simple request for a pipe and some tobacco, revealed the depth of his despair. It wasn’t until the crew was certain that and Anna had met their watery end that they bothered to provide him that relief.

Despite a day-long search for the bodies, the river held its secrets tightly. It was not until six days later, on May 6, that Louisa’s lifeless body finally resurfaced, followed by Anna’s on May 9. Two years later, in poignant remembrance of her cherished sister, Deborah welcomed a baby girl into the world, christening her Louisa Adams Shimp, forever binding the family’s past to their future.