Carroll A. Deering – Ghost Ship on the Diamond Shoals, North Carolina – Legends of America
The story of the Carroll A. Deering is one of maritime mystery, a haunting tale of a five-masted schooner found adrift and abandoned on the treacherous Diamond Shoals of North Carolina. Her story, though brief, has secured her place as one of the most enduring "ghost ship" legends in maritime history.
The Carroll A. Deering was a majestic vessel, a symbol of American shipbuilding prowess in the early 20th century. Constructed in 1919 by the G.G. Deering Company in Bath, Maine, she was a sight to behold. Measuring 255 feet in length and 44 feet in width, with a displacement of 1,879 tons, she was designed for the robust task of hauling coal. Her capacity was impressive, able to carry up to 3,500 tons of cargo. The Deering holds the distinction of being the largest and last ship built by the G.G. Deering Company, and one of the final wooden cargo ships ever produced.
Launched on April 4, 1919, the Carroll A. Deering was named in honor of the owner’s son. For about a year and a half, she sailed the seas, proving her seaworthiness. In August 1920, she embarked on a voyage from Norfolk, Virginia, destined for Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Under the command of Captain William H. Merritt, a decorated World War I hero, the ship carried a crew of ten men, including Merritt’s son, Sewall, who served as the first mate. The hold was filled with coal, ready to fuel the industries of Brazil.
However, fate intervened. Just days into the voyage, Captain Merritt fell seriously ill, forcing the ship to turn back. They arrived at the port of Lewes, Delaware, where Merritt and his son disembarked for medical attention. The G.G. Deering Company quickly sought replacements. Captain Willis B. Wormell, a seasoned 66-year-old veteran seaman, stepped in to take command, with Charles B. McLellan appointed as the first mate. On September 8, 1920, the Deering once again set sail for Brazil, successfully delivering its cargo of coal.
During their time in Brazil, Captain Wormell granted his crew shore leave. He used this opportunity to visit an old friend, Captain George Goodwin, sharing his concerns about the crew of the Carroll A. Deering. Wormell confided that he found them unruly and untrustworthy, with the exception of the engineer, Herbert Bates.
On December 2, 1920, the Deering departed Brazil and made its way to Bridgetown, Barbados, a common stop for supplies. Here, Captain Wormell spoke with Captain Hugh Norton of the Augustus W. Snow, reiterating his difficulties with the crew, particularly his first mate, Charles B. McLellan. Wormell described McLellan as "habitually drunk while ashore" and accused him of mistreating the crew.
McLellan, in turn, complained to Captain Norton about his frustrations. He claimed that Captain Wormell’s interference prevented him from effectively disciplining the crew. He also asserted that he was solely responsible for navigation due to Wormell’s failing eyesight. In a moment of drunken anger, McLellan was overheard saying, "I’ll get the captain before we get to Norfolk; I will." His behavior led to his arrest, but Captain Wormell bailed him out of jail on January 9, 1921, and the Deering immediately set sail for Hampton Roads, Virginia.
On January 29, 1921, the Deering passed by the Cape Lookout lightship off the coast of North Carolina. A man hailed the lightship, reporting that the Deering had lost both anchors and chains in a storm off Cape Fear. He requested that the G.G. Deering Company be notified. However, Captain Thomas Jacobson, the lightship’s keeper, was unable to relay the message due to a malfunctioning radio. Captain Jacobson later described the man who hailed the lightship as tall and thin, with reddish hair, speaking through a megaphone. He noted that the man’s speech was broken and did not sound like an officer, leading him to believe the man was Scandinavian. Jacobson also observed the crew "milling around" on the ship’s quarterdeck, an area typically off-limits to them. The following day, the crew of another vessel reported seeing the Deering sailing on a course that would take it directly onto the Diamond Shoals, a notoriously dangerous stretch of shallow sandbars.
In the early hours of January 31, C.P. Brady, on lookout duty at the Cape Hatteras Coast Guard station, spotted the Deering. The vessel had run aground, its sails still set, on the outer edge of Diamond Shoals. Brady reported his findings, but severe weather conditions prevented rescue ships from approaching the Deering.
It wasn’t until February 4 that a tugboat rescue crew, led by Captain James Carlson, could board the stricken vessel. The ship was severely damaged and taking on water. The crew found the Deering completely abandoned, with much of its equipment damaged. The steering equipment was disabled, the wheel shattered, the rudder disengaged, and the binnacle box broken. A sledgehammer lay ominously nearby. The ship’s log, navigation equipment, crew’s personal belongings, life rafts, and the ship’s two lifeboats were all missing. A ladder hung over the side, suggesting a hasty departure. In a bizarre twist, the galley appeared as if food preparation was in progress, with ribs in a pan, pea soup in a pot, and coffee on the stove.
The Carroll A. Deering was deemed unsalvageable. It was towed out into the ocean and destroyed with dynamite. Some of the wreckage washed ashore on Ocracoke Island, North Carolina, remaining visible for more than three decades.
The U.S. government launched an extensive investigation, which lasted until late 1922, but no official conclusion was ever reached.
Investigators considered various factors, including the weather. While powerful hurricanes were known to be active in the Atlantic, the Deering was moving away from them. The state of the ship suggested an orderly evacuation rather than a panicked one.
Piracy was also considered, but no evidence supported this theory. The possibility of rum runners was explored, as the crew’s disappearance occurred during Prohibition, but the vessel’s size, visibility, and slow speed made it an unlikely candidate for smuggling.
Many suspected mutiny, given Captain Wormell’s known conflict with his first mate. The red-haired man who hailed the Cape Lookout lightship, certainly not the captain, lent credence to this theory. Senator Frederick Hale of Maine championed this idea, calling it "a plain case of mutiny." However, despite some supporting evidence, nothing definitive could be proven.
Another possibility was that the crew abandoned ship after it ran aground, taking refuge in the lifeboats and being swept out to sea. It’s also possible that the crew of the Deering was rescued by another ship in the area, the SS Hewitt, which was also lost with all hands around the same time.
Ultimately, no trace of the lifeboats or the crew members was ever found. The mystery surrounding the vanishing of the Carroll A. Deering‘s crew continues to fuel speculation and debate to this day, solidifying its place in maritime lore as a true ghost ship legend.