The “Volcano Ship” USS Intrepid

Destruction of Fire Ship Intrepid

In late summer 1804 the war against Tripoli was not going well. True, the third U.S. naval squadron sent to the Mediterranean under the command of Commo. Edward Preble had twice assaulted the capital and destroyed a number of enemy batteries and gunboats. But despite Preble’s impressive efforts the fortress city still stood in defiance of the United States, and the bashaw (king) of Tripoli, who had initiated the war, remained contemptuous of U.S. naval strength. His corsair fleet remained largely intact in the harbor below his castle, and the 115 cannon in the city’s defenses remained trained on the American ships standing offshore, hardly touched by the withering broadsides of USS Constitution and the other ships in the squadron, including a number of bomb ketches on loan from the king of Sicily.

Commodore Edward Preble

Worse, Preble had received a dispatch from Secretary of the Navy Robert Smith with the unwelcome news that a fourth squadron was underway from Portsmouth, Virginia, under the command of Commo. Samuel Barron. Since Barron had seniority over Preble, Preble’s days in the Mediterranean were numbered. If he were to make a meaningful contribution to the successful conclusion of the war, he needed to act quickly. After mulling over his options he settled on a course that no one could have suspected, not even his loyal squadron commanders whom he referred to affectionately as “my boys.”

What he decided to do was transform the captured ketch Intrepid into what he designated as a “volcano ship” – an extreme version of the more familiar term “fire ship.” If the ketch could steal in to Tripoli harbor under cover of night and a Mediterranean rig, reach the very walls of Tripoli and set off an explosion for the ages, in one bold stroke the entire pirate fleet could be destroyed and considerable damage done to the city itself.

Every carpenter in the squadron was put to work planking up her magazine in the hold and loading it to the brim with five hundred barrels of powder, five tons in all. On the deck directly above the magazine, one hundred 13-inch shells and fifty 9-inch shells were carefully stacked within a rectangular wooden bin built to accommodate them. Under the watchful eye of the squadron commanders, two holes were drilled into the bulkhead of the magazine amidships. Into these were inserted gun barrels stuffed with fuses that were connected to a main fuse at the end. These two main fuses were connected on the outside to a shallow trough of powder that ran the length of the ketch on the starboard side forward to a scuttle near her bow and aft to her companionway.

The train of powder could thus be fired from either the bow or the stern of the vessel. The length of the two main fuses was set to burn for eleven minutes before the main fuses set off the smaller fuses inside the gun barrels. The smaller fuses were timed to burn for four minutes before they ignited the powder in the magazine. Once the train of powder was lit, the thirteen Americans had fifteen minutes to get off Intrepid and board the pinnace and cutter being towed behind the ketch. The schooner Nautilus would be hove to close in to the reefs, to pick them up and convey them back to the flagship, escorted by the schooner Vixen and the brig of war Syren.

Commodore Preble chose Lt. Richard Somers to command Intrepid. Every squadron commander had begged for the honor, but Somers got the nod. Joining him as volunteers were Midshipman Henry Wadsworth (Longfellow’s uncle), Midshipman Joseph Israel, and ten carefully selected American sailors.

Lt. Richard Sommers

At eight o’clock in the evening of September 3, 1804, Intrepid sailed from the squadron standing several miles offshore from the city of Tripoli. She made it through the Western Passage into the harbor of Tripoli. Then, with a white blinding eruption of light and an ear-rupturing concussion that could be heard and felt well out to sea, she exploded – as it turned out, prematurely, before she reached the city walls. Why, no one is certain to this day. The most likely explanation is that Intrepid was approached by Tripolitan gunboats and Lieutenant Somers set off the charge himself. Earlier, aboard Constitution, he had vowed to do just that in such a circumstance, preferring death to the dishonor of surrendering and the disgrace of turning over vast quantities of munitions to the enemy. The twelve American heroes sailing with him understood that preference when they volunteered.

Following is a scene from chapter 12 of A Call to Arms. It depicts an exchange between Commodore Preble and Lt. George Reed, acting captain of Nautilus. The morning after the explosion Preble had signaled Nautilus to come alongside the flagship and report.

“Lieutenant Reed, what can you tell us?” Preble shouted through a speaking trumpet.

Reed raised his own trumpet from the larboard railing of the schooner. All eyes aboard the flagship were riveted upon him. He hesitated as he delivered his reply, as if fearful that speaking aloud of such things would somehow cause them to become a reality.

“Sir,” Reed reported, “we followed Intrepid until two or three minutes before the explosion…We thought she had reached her destination, but alas…she had not. From what we observed this morning…there has been little or no damage…either to Tripoli or to its navy. And sir…It is my sad duty to report…that Captain Somers and every member of his crew…have vanished.”

“Repeat that, Lieutenant. And speak up, man! Vanished, you say?”

“Yes sir,” Reed replied more distinctly. “Vanished. There is no indication either of the crew or the two boats. No indication whatsoever.”

“So what you are telling me, Mr. Reed, is that the crew of Intrepid has either perished or been taken prisoner.”

“Yes sir. We…I fear so, sir.”

“Dear God, Henry…” (Midshipman Ralph) Izard whispered to himself, staring out blankly to the area where Intrepid had exploded. (Midshipman) Jamie (Cutler) placed a hand on his shoulder, as much to comfort himself as his friend. Both of them realized, as well as anyone, that not one of the thirteen Americans had been taken alive. Jamie felt the warm damp of tears in his eyes and tried, unsuccessfully, to blink them away.

“Very well, Mr. Reed,” Preble shouted through the trumpet. “Please advise Mr. Smith and Mr. Stewart (captain of Vixen and Syren, respectively) to rejoin the squadron. You may continue to reconnoiter, but stay out of effective range of the shore batteries. We shall suffer no further casualties this day.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

It was, ironically, that very afternoon, as the squadron continued to reel from such a devastating loss of shipmates, that the topgallants of USS President and USS Constellation were sighted bearing down from the north. The Mediterranean campaign of Commodore Edward Preble, so full of promise, had come to an end.