Ghosts Beneath the Waves: The Washington, Dragged Around Niagara and Lost to Lake Ontario

Let’s take a little trip—not to Paris or Rome, but to the edge of North America’s inland seas. I’m talking about Lake Erie and Lake Ontario—cold, dark, and deeper than most people realize. These lakes don’t just shimmer in the sun. They whisper. They remember. And if you listen closely, you might just hear the ghosts.

Beneath the surface, there are thousands of shipwrecks—over 6,000, by some estimates. Steamers, schooners, warships. Most people pass by without knowing what’s just below. But every so often, one of those long-lost vessels is found—and with it, a story comes back to life.

One of those stories belongs to the Washington. She was a modest, 53-foot merchant sloop, launched in 1798—the very first commercial sailing ship built on Lake Erie. Back then, she carried settlers and goods, even cargo from India, back and forth across the young frontier. And here’s the wild part: in 1802, she was dragged overland—by oxen, no less—around Niagara Falls to reach Lake Ontario. That’s right. They put the ship on runners, hitched her up like a wagon, and hauled her through the snow. Can you imagine?

But just a year later, in 1803, she vanished. A storm came up fast—like they do on the lakes—and she was gone, sunk somewhere off the coast of Oswego, New York. For over 200 years, nobody saw her again.

Then, not long ago, a small team of amateur explorers—retirees, really—led by Jim Kennard, found her. They were using side-scan sonar when something strange showed up on the screen. They returned with a remotely operated vehicle, sent it down, and there she was—upright on the lakebed, her mast still standing, like she was frozen in time. Perfectly preserved in that frigid freshwater tomb.

Kennard has found around 200 wrecks in his life. But this one? This one stood out. Because the Washington is the second oldest wreck ever discovered in the Great Lakes. She belonged to a brief moment in history, when single-masted sloops ruled the waters—before the bigger schooners took over. It’s like stumbling upon a dinosaur in your backyard.

But here’s the thing: Kennard won’t tell you where it is. Not exactly. He pretends he’s fishing when he’s looking for wrecks. He keeps the coordinates secret. Because he knows how fragile these sites are. How easily a relic becomes a souvenir. “These are little mini museums,” he says. And he’s right. They’re not just boats. They’re graves.

And now, beneath the waves off Oswego, the Washington still waits. A lonely sentinel. A story nearly forgotten, whispered back to life by the cold, patient waters of Lake Ontario.