The 1893 wreck of the Russian warship, the Vitiaz

The Russian warship Vitiaz circa 1886-1893. Wikimedia, public domain.

By Robert Neff

In early April 1893, the Russian warship, the Vitiaz (Valiant Warrior), departed Japan for Korea ― its mission was to survey the coast along the eastern side of the peninsula so that the Russian government could update its charts. The previous charts were about forty years old and were filled with inaccuracies.

For a little over a month, the Russian warship carried out its mission with relative ease ― the crew's boredom likely being the greatest challenge the officers faced. However, things all changed on the afternoon of May 10th. As the warship approached the bay near Port Lazareff, calamity struck. According to one source:

"The Vitiaz was caught in a heavy [typhoon], and in spite of the efforts of her crew to prevent it, the big seas broke over her and flooded several of the lower compartments. The ship could make no headway against the [typhoon] and gradually drifted on [to a] reef, where she struck several times. Before she could [make her way] into deep water again, she lost one of her propellers and also two blades from the other, an accident that rendered her perfectly helpless, and in order to prevent the ship going ashore, the anchors were let go."

According to this narrative, the anchors only managed to hold the ship in place for a short time before they began to drag and the ship was forced up on the beach ― stern first. It was a rather fanciful but inaccurate account ― just one of many.

Several other sources indicate that Captain Zarine may have been seeking shelter. His charts ― the ones that were forty years old ― indicated he had five fathoms (about 9.1 meters) of water beneath him but he soon discovered there were actually less than two fathoms (about 3.6 meters). According to a man identifying himself as Lieutenant Vassilieff ― the first officer of the warship ― when it struck the submerged rock, it drove "a hole clear through the vessel."

It was at this point, Vassilieff claimed, that he and the crew "hastily lowered the boats and got into them just in time to see the cruiser go down. We had gone only about a mile in the boats when a heavy sea came up, and the boat containing the first officer and eight men was swamped and all drowned. By hard pulling we succeeded in making a landing near [Wonsan], on the Korean coast. There we got food and water, and after a few days' rest we started for Vladivostok, Siberia."

Part of an 1890 map showing the location of Port Lazareff and Wonsan. Robert Neff Collection

We can surmise from his account that either Vassilieff was a ghost (remember, he claimed to be the first officer) or he was lying. "First officer Vassilieff" apparently gleaned his information from earlier newspaper accounts of the wreck and even repeated the same wrong dates.

Other ― more believable accounts ― claim that from the moment the ship struck the rock until she "was safely beached, everything possible was done to save the ship, and within two days the whole of her heavy guns, top-masts, yards, etc., were safely landed without a single mishap," using the warship's own boats and also Korean junks that were later employed.

The crew ― some 390 officers and sailors ― had "no difficulty getting ashore" and word was soon sent to Nagasaki asking for divers and workmen to be sent so that the ship could be repaired sufficiently enough for it to be able to sail to a nearby port with a dry dock.

By the end of the month, several Russian warships had arrived at the wreck site as well as divers, engineers and workmen from the Mitsu Bishi Company. According to The Rising Sun & Nagasaki Express (an English-language newspaper published in Nagasaki):

"Work in connection with raising the sunken cruiser Vitiaz is progressing favourably, and providing no adverse winds are experienced great hopes are entertained of having her afloat in a very short time. She is, we believe, only exposed to easterly winds, which do not usually prevail at this season of the year, and the prospects of a typhoon in that latitude are very remote."

The paper informed its readers that the warship would be raised "by means of the pontoons which form the floating dock at Vladivostok," which were being towed to the site by Russian warships. Once the ship was raised, it would be towed to Port Lazareff (about 16 kilometers away) where temporary repairs would be made and then it would sail to Nagasaki for its final repairs.

The divers soon discovered the damage was much more extensive than initially thought. There were several holes in the hull but could not be easily accessed due to the ship's position in the sand. Further investigations revealed that the starboard propeller shaft was completely broken off and the rudder heavily damaged. Yet, the repairmen were optimistic that the ship could be saved.

A possible image of the wreck of the warship near Port Lazareff in 1893. Wikimedia, public domain

However, Mother Nature and the sea can be cruel and have a tendency to ruin the plans of the most optimistic engineers. On June 11, a sufficient amount of water had been pumped out of the wreck so that every arrangement was made to float the ship on the following day. "Fate, however, was against her, as on that day a severely easterly gale and heavy swell were experienced, which completely smashed in her bow, and otherwise rendered her a hopeless wreck. There was no other alternative but to abandon her…"

The Nagasaki newspaper was quick to defend its earlier optimism. "The confident opinion of those capable of judging was, that had the pontoons arrived a few days earlier, or the fine weather continued a little longer, the Vitiaz [could have been saved]."

Then, almost as an afterthought, it added: "The Vitiaz has been a most unfortunate vessel, having, amongst other casualties, experienced three typhoons on the voyage out [to the Pacific?], in one of which she was dismasted."

Everything that could be salvaged was retrieved from the ship, including her weapons: 10 six-inch four-ton breech-loading rifles, 9 rapid-fire guns, 3 machine guns and 4 torpedo tubes. According to "First officer Vassilieff," the wreck was sold to the Japanese government for $17,000; they intended to blow it up and take out the machinery. For the Russian government, it was an extremely expensive accident. Construction of the warship had begun in 1884 and by the time it was completed had cost the Russian government nearly $700,000!

Where did the fault lie? Captain Zarine was described as "one of the best known men in the Russian Navy" with a "splendid record for gallantry, and a fine war service behind him." The ever-optimistic Nagasaki newspaper asserted that "neither the Captain nor any of his officers were in the slightest degree to blame [for the wreck], and considerable sympathy is felt for Capt. Zarine in his misfortune." The New York Times echoed this sentiment when it praised the professionalism of the warship's officers: "The most skillful seamanship is said to have been displayed by the officers in rescuing everybody aboard the disabled ship." However, it followed its praise with: "As yet it is not definitely known how the Vitiaz found herself so close in shore on the Corean coast."

I am sure the Russian government was also curious, but Captain Zarine's superiors don't appear to have been as eager to learn the reason why, as one would have expected. In mid-August, the San Francisco Call reported the arrival of Zarine and two of his subordinate officers. According to the paper, Captain Zarine and his subordinates were on their way to St. Petersburg ― likely to submit their account of the accident ― but rather than take a French steamship from Japan to Europe (which would have been much faster), they decided to travel across the Pacific Ocean and through the United States "in order to see the World's Fair at Chicago and to visit New York." They weren't the only ones; about a month later, "First officer Vassilieff" told the San Francisco Call he was "taking advantage of a leave of absence to visit the World's Fair." I wonder if he had the opportunity of running into his fellow shipmates?

Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.