The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1921-08-18
TOSSED INTO OPEN CAVE
BY BREAKERS
Where He Remained all Night
And Part of Day Before Be-
ing Rescued. A Narrow
Escape.

Marooned in ting wave-beaten
cave at Squaw Bay Point, with tall,
desolate cliffs on either side cutting
hiEl off for nearly a mile, K. L. Shirts
a Canadian spending the summer at
Bayfield,, spent an entire night and
part of the next day when his canoe
capsized during a heavy storm.
Shirts is at bayfield, now reeu-
perating, having been brought there
by Cornucopia fishermen who by a
mircale discovered his haven of safe
ty.
Exhausted, naked of everything
bit the remnants of bathing suit,
his body bruised and mangled by
contact with the sharp rocks in his
struggle to find place to cling along
the steep, forbidden cliffs, Shirts was
revived at Cornucopia.
Prepares for Death
On the wall of the little cliff, where
the wind howled and the waves beat
menacingly at his very feet, Shirts
gave himself up and prepared to
meet his death.
Using sharp piece of sandstone,
he had scratched his own obituary in
to the rocks as he grew weaker:
Water cold
Lost Canoe August 9.
(The next line is so blurred the
words cannot be read-he evidently
grew SO weak he could not weld his
stone writing utensil.)
Then follows:
K. L. Shirts Finis
LOVE TO ALL AT HOME
The accident which so nearly
caused Shirts death happened on
Tuesday in the evening. During
The heavy storm which struck this
section, Shirts was on canoe trip.
The water was whipped into foam,
and he tried to make land, but failed.
Realizing that he would have trouble,
he stripped, of everything but his
bathing suit, and continued his
efforts.
Canoe Capsizes
Suddenly the wind shifted to the
northwest. Ia the seething white
caps off Squaw Point, which is about
five miles east of Cornncopia on the
north shore, Shirts canoe capsized.
All his clothing was lost Shirts
clung to the canoe desperately, but
it was driven farther from shore.
Finally he abandoned it, and struck
out through the foaming water for
shore.
How long ne swan he does not
know. Darkness came on before he
reached the forbidding cliffs of
Squaw Bay. But there was no pos
sible place to land. Cropping with
his hands for place to hold, he
was driven by the waves against the
rock. Wounded, he swan further
and cried again But again he was
rebuffed. 1t was pitch dark, and
as ne swan vainly seeking safety,
suddenly the waves would rise and
hurl him at the cliff. His bathing
suit was torn nearly off. His knees
arms, hands, and head were bruised
and bleeding.
Craving weaker and weaker, Shirts
continued to grope about for a land
ing place.
When he was almost worn out be-
yond endurance, his hand found a
ledge about two feet from the water.
Waiting for an especially big wave,
he dragged himself onto the cliff.
Clings to Cliff in Rock
1t was a tiny haven he had found
but he had found it just in time A
wave-worn cave, too small to stand
erect in, and right next the open sea.
But it was a welcome retreat,
All through the night Shirts main
tanned the lonely vigil in the cave.
And through the morning hours ne
looked out upon the dreary, lone
some waters, where boats seldom
come.
As the hours passed and hope
fainter, he penned what he believed
to be his own obituary. For death
seemed certain There was no pos
sible place to gain land within three
quarters ia mile.
Only the steep, forbidding cliffs,