Trapped on an Iceberg
The following tale is inspired by the true story of the wreck of the schooner Caledonia of Newfoundland in June 1875. Far from shore the boat, carrying families to the summer fishery in Labrador, struck an iceberg and sank. Their only chance for survival was to climb onto the berg and drift in the North Atlantic, and hope for the best.
Trapped on an Iceberg
Samuel had been going to sea for as long as he could remember. Every summer, his family packed up their supplies, left Cupids, NL behind, and sailed north to the Labrador coast, where they would spend months fishing and drying cod. He was only eleven, but this life was as familiar to him, as familiar as the salt air.
This year they were heading Batteau, Labrador aboard the Caledonia. The schooner was carrying not only Samuel’s family but other families, too. There were men to work the boats, women to salt the fish, and children like Samuel, who helped where they could. Altogether there were 82 people on board.
Samuel took a deep breath and smiled — the ship smelled of tar, fish, and damp wood, and the sea stretched out in all directions, vast and almost endless. He loved it.
But then came the iceberg.
It happened late on Thursday evening, about 9pm, ninety miles off Cape Fogo. The air had turned sharp with cold, the kind that cut straight through wool and made Samuel’s breath hang in front of him like smoke. He had been lying on his bunk, near his parents, when the impact came—a deep, shuddering crash that sent a jolt through the entire ship.
Shouts erupted from above. Samuel followed his parents to the deck, his heart pounding. When they reached the rail, his stomach twisted. The Caledonia had struck an iceberg. It loomed over them, a monstrous, jagged thing, its surface gleaming in the dim light. There was a horrible scraping sound as the berg tore along the side of the ship. He could hear the wooden hull breaking.
He looked to his parents — never had he seen his father look so frightened.
It was almost dark. There were people running everywhere. The ship was already taking on water, tilting forward as the sea rushed in.
“Get on the ice!” Captain Delaney shouted.
Samuel barely had time to think before hands were grabbing him, lifting him over the side. His boots slipped as he landed hard on the frozen surface. Around him, others were scrambling onto the iceberg—his mother, his father, neighbours from Cupids. Some had managed to bring blankets, others guns, but most had nothing.
They had barely made it on to the berg when the Caledonia slipped beneath the waves and they were alone, adrift on an iceberg in the North Atlantic.
The Night on the Iceberg
The stars stretched above them, sharp and cold, filling the sky from one horizon to the other. Samuel had never seen so many before, but he took no comfort in them. He was used to seeing them stretched out above the harbour and hills but now, stretched out above open sea, they reminded him how small he was.
If there was something to be thankful for, it was the weather; it was a calm night.
The waves lapped gently against the iceberg, a steady rhythm against the silence. No birds, no wind, no voices—only the water and the soft, desperate murmuring of the worried people around him.
The iceberg was uneven, its surface jagged and slick. Some parts sloped gently into the water, others rose in sharp ridges. Samuel’s legs ached from trying to keep his balance, and his hands, clenched into fists around his mother’s arm, had gone completely numb.
The cold was like nothing he had ever known. It seeped through his clothes, pressing into his skin, into his bones. At first, he shivered violently. Then, after a while, the shaking slowed, replaced by a strange, heavy stillness. He was so tired. His eyelids drooped, his body sagging against his mother’s.
“Stay awake,” she whispered, her lips close to his ear. “You have to stay awake.”
Samuel forced his eyes open. Around him, others huddled in the dark. Some had wrapped blankets around themselves and their children, though it did little against the deep chill. His father and a few of the men stood at the edge of the ice, firing shots into the night, hoping a passing ship might hear. The echoes faded into the vast emptiness.
No one was coming.
The hours stretched on. Every part of Samuel’s body hurt. The cold was in his chest now, in his breath, he felt like his lungs were filling with ice. He tried to press closer to his mother, but even her warmth felt faint.
Somewhere behind him a baby wouldn’t stop crying. A woman began to pray, her voice barely above a whisper.
Samuel thought of Cupids. He thought of their small house, the warmth of the kitchen fire, the smell of fresh bread. He thought of the summers on the Labrador, playing on the shore while the fish dried on the flakes.
Had any of it ever happened? It felt like another lifetime.
The men fired another round into the air. The sound cracked through the silence, then disappeared into the night.
Samuel closed his eyes. Maybe if he just rested for a moment—
A shout jolted him awake.
A ship!
At first, he thought he had imagined it, but then he saw it, too — a dark shape on the horizon, its sails catching the early morning light. It was the Jane Ainsley.
Captain Kennedy had heard their guns!
One by one, the survivors were hauled aboard, their cold fingers gripping the hands of the men who pulled them to safety. Someone wrapped a blanket around Samuel’s shoulders, but he barely noticed. He couldn’t stop shivering.
The Journey Continues
The Jane Ainsley carried them to Seldom-Come-By on Fogo Island, where warm food and dry clothes awaited them. From there, they were sent to St. John’s.
Word of the miracle spread quickly—82 people had survived a shipwreck in the middle of the ocean by climbing onto an iceberg! The people of St. John’s gathered to offer what they could—food, clothing, and gear—and to hear the incredible tale.
But there was little time to talk; the summer’s work still lay ahead. If they hoped to eat in the winter, they had to work in the summer. Shipwreck or not.
Walter B. Grieve, of Baine, Johnson & Co., arranged for two ships to take them north. Samuel and his family boarded one of them, once again bound for Batteau. The ship was smaller than the Caledonia, the quarters even tighter, but no one complained.
Samuel stood at the rail as they left St. John’s behind, the wind cold against his face. He thought of the iceberg, of the endless night beneath the stars, of the fear that still sat deep in his chest. He was afraid—but fear wouldn’t stop the sea, and it wouldn’t fill an empty belly.
So he gripped the rail a little tighter, lifted his chin, and faced the open water.
Notes
This story has been told many times in the 150 years since it happened. In some retellings, not all members of the crew survive and, sometimes it’s said they spent days on the berg.
The details as I’ve presented them here are based on newspaper accounts at the time of the wreck, which indicate they spent one night on the iceberg and everyone aboard the Caledonia survived.
Samuel is my own invention. The Caledonia was carrying families and I decided to present the details of the wreck from the point of view of a young boy. I can’t help but wonder how the families felt, setting sale for the Labrador so soon after they nearly died.
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Loss of the Caledonia, Public Ledger, July 2, 1875
Mountains of Ice, Peepes at Many Lands (Newfoundland), 1912
Caledonia, Encyclopedia of Newfoundland and Labrador
Database of Ship Collisions with Icebergs, Brian Hill, NRCC, 2000
Inspired by a true story, 11-year-old Samuel and his family are stranded on an iceberg after a shipwreck. They are adrift more than 100km from land, fighting for survival.