Category: Destination4x4

St. Vallier – Colorado River Steamship

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The St. Vallier (sometimes spelled St. Valier) was a stern-wheel steamboat and the first steel-hulled vessel to operate on the Colorado River. It was built in early 1899 at Needles, California, by the Santa Ana Mining Company, which held placer mining claims upriver and sought reliable transport for supplies and equipment.

Construction occurred amid a late-19th-century revival of river traffic driven by mining activity in southern Nevada and western Arizona. The boat remained inactive through much of 1899 and into 1900 due to ownership litigation after the mining company faced financial trouble and creditors attached the vessel. Its maiden voyage came in the summer of 1900 under Captain John W. Babson (a former railroad man), beginning limited freight service.

In December 1901 the Mexican-Colorado Navigation Company acquired it from the Santa Ana creditors. The new owners added four passenger cabins on the upper deck, enabling regular Yuma–Needles runs that carried both freight and passengers.

Design Principles and Specifications

Colorado River steamboats were engineered for an exceptionally difficult waterway: shallow depths (often under two feet in places), shifting sandbars, swift currents, seasonal floods and low water, and braided channels. Traditional deep-draft ocean or Mississippi-style designs were unusable.

Key design principles embodied in the St. Vallier included:

  • Steel hull: It was the first steel-hulled steamer on the river, offering greater durability and resistance to the abrasive, silty water and frequent groundings than the wooden hulls that dominated earlier fleets.
  • Stern-wheel propulsion: A rear paddlewheel provided efficient power in shallow water, better maneuverability in tight channels, and less vulnerability to floating debris than side-wheels.
  • Light draft and shallow-draft hull form: Dimensions are reported inconsistently across sources (reflecting measurement variations or possible refits), but typical figures are roughly 74 feet in length by 17 feet beam (alternative accounts give ~92 feet length, 17-foot beam, and ~74–92 tons). The design prioritized minimal draft so the vessel could operate over sandbars and in low-water conditions common on the lower Colorado.
  • Practical freight-and-passenger configuration: After the 1901 refit, upper-deck cabins allowed mixed service while the main deck and any towed barges handled cargo such as lumber, mining machinery, railroad rails, and supplies.

These features aligned with the broader evolution of Colorado River boats, which consistently emphasized extreme shallow draft (often 1–2 feet loaded), flat or lightly rounded bottoms, and robust yet lightweight construction suited to desert-river conditions.

Operational History and Role in Expanding Trade

The St. Vallier entered service during the final profitable phase of commercial steamboating on the lower Colorado, after the Southern Pacific Railroad reached Yuma in 1877 and began eroding long-distance river traffic. Remaining demand centered on remote mining districts (notably Searchlight and Quartette in Nevada) that still required river delivery of heavy equipment, provisions, and ore transport between railheads at Needles and Yuma.

Under the Mexican-Colorado Navigation Company it competed directly with the established Colorado Steam Navigation Company (operators of the Cochan, rebuilt from the older Gila) and later the Searchlight. It undercut rates on the Yuma–Needles corridor, hauling supplies that supported the late mining boom and local trade. This competition briefly stimulated service and kept freight moving to isolated camps that railroads had not yet fully reached.

After 1905 the boat’s role shifted toward engineering and reclamation work. It assisted the California Development Company and U.S. Reclamation Service during the Imperial Valley flood crisis (when the Colorado breached into the Salton Sink) and the construction of Laguna Dam. It ferried materials, equipment, and workers and was photographed working alongside brush dikes and canal intakes.

In February 1905 it sank near Yuma during flood-control operations at a canal intake; it was salvaged and sold for $750, then continued limited service under new ownership tied to irrigation projects. On March 25, 1909—shortly before Laguna Dam’s completion—it broke free from its moorings near Yuma, sank again, and was declared a total loss. Authorities dynamited the wreck to clear the channel.

Decline and Legacy

Laguna Dam (completed 1909) permanently blocked upstream navigation and, together with expanding railroads and the rise of trucks and smaller gasoline boats, ended the steamboat era on the lower Colorado. The St. Vallier was one of the last vessels of its type; commercial steam navigation effectively ceased within a few years (the Searchlight lingered into the mid-1910s).

Although short-lived, the St. Vallier illustrates the adaptive final chapter of river commerce in the Southwest. Its steel hull marked a technological step forward, its competitive service helped sustain mining logistics in the early 1900s, and its later use in reclamation projects contributed to the irrigation infrastructure that transformed the Imperial Valley and lower Colorado region. It remains a documented example of the specialized, shallow-draft sternwheelers that once linked desert mining camps, military posts, and emerging agricultural settlements before railroads and dams closed the river to commercial steam traffic.

The Lost Death Valley Germans

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A Family’s Vanishing and the Discovery That Closed a 13-Year Mystery

The hottest place on earth, Death Valley National Park is on the order with California and Nevada
The hottest place on earth, Death Valley National Park is on the order with California and Nevada

In the searing July heat of 1996, a family of four German tourists from Dresden disappeared into the remote southwestern corner of Death Valley National Park. Their fate remained unknown for more than 13 years until amateur searchers uncovered skeletal remains and personal effects that finally explained what had happened.

Egbert Rimkus, a 34-year-old architect, was traveling with his 11-year-old son Georg Weber, his girlfriend Cornelia Meyer, 27, and her 4-year-old son Max Meyer. The group arrived in the United States on July 8, 1996, flying into Seattle and then continuing to Los Angeles. There they rented a green 1996 Plymouth Voyager minivan. After time in the San Clemente area and a stay at the Treasure Island Hotel in Las Vegas, they entered Death Valley National Park on July 22.

At the Furnace Creek Visitors Center they purchased a German-language guide to the park. That night they camped in Hanaupah Canyon. The next day they visited sites including an abandoned mining camp at Warm Springs, where Cornelia signed a visitor log with the names of all four family members and noted they were “going over the pass”—likely a reference to the rugged Mengel Pass. They also stopped at the Geologist’s Cabin in Butte Valley, taking an American flag labeled “Butte Valley Stone Cabin” that was later found in their van.

The family never returned. They had booked a flight home for July 27 but did not board it. Rimkus’s ex-wife, Heike Weber, grew concerned and contacted authorities. An Interpol alert was issued.

On October 21, 1996, a park ranger on a helicopter flight searching for illegal drug labs spotted the minivan in Anvil Spring Canyon, an extremely remote area closed to vehicles. The van had three flat tires and damaged rims; tracks showed it had been driven more than two miles in that condition over rocky terrain. Inside were camping gear, a Coleman sleeping bag, tent, toys, empty water and juice containers, beer bottles, a camera with exposed film, and the American flag from the cabin. Passports, wallets, money, and airline tickets were gone, indicating the family had left on foot intending to seek help.

An extensive search involving more than 45 searchers, helicopters, and horses covered hundreds of square miles at a cost of roughly $80,000. The only significant find was a single Bud Ice beer bottle under a bush about 1.7 miles from the van, beside a cleared ledge with a seat mark suggesting someone had rested in the shade. On October 26, 1996, the official search was called off. The family was presumed dead from heat exposure and dehydration in temperatures that routinely exceeded 110–115°F (43–46°C) in July.

For 13 years the case remained open but dormant, spawning internet speculation. In 2009, Tom Mahood, a volunteer with the Riverside Mountain Rescue Unit who had become interested in the case, and his search partner Les Walker conducted independent explorations. Mahood theorized that after the van became stranded, the family walked south toward the perimeter of Naval Air Weapons Station China Lake—about eight miles away—expecting a well-patrolled, fenced military boundary of the kind common in Germany. Instead they encountered open desert.

On November 12, 2009, Walker and Mahood discovered scattered skeletal remains of two adults in a remote section of Goler Wash, several miles southeast of the van site. Nearby were Cornelia Meyer’s passport, bank identification, wallet, pages from a German-language journal or planner containing business cards from places the family had visited, a wine bottle, another beer bottle matching those in the van, a toothbrush, and the sole of a small shoe that may have belonged to a woman or child. The remains and items were scattered over roughly 150 meters, appearing to radiate from the base of a small cliff.

Authorities recovered additional remains in follow-up searches. DNA testing positively identified Egbert Rimkus. Cornelia Meyer was identified through the personal effects found with the remains and the overall circumstances. Smaller bones recovered near the site were believed to belong to the two boys, but decades of extreme sun and weather had degraded them too severely for definitive DNA identification. The children have never been positively identified and remain listed as missing persons with Interpol.

Investigators and the medical examiner concluded there was no evidence of crime. The family most likely became stranded when their vehicle was disabled, then attempted to walk for help and succumbed to heat stroke, dehydration, and lack of shelter in the extreme midsummer desert conditions. Average high temperatures in the area in July approach 116.5°F (46.9°C).

The discovery by Mahood and Walker brought official closure to one of Death Valley’s most enduring modern mysteries. It stands as a stark reminder of the park’s unforgiving environment, where even prepared visitors can quickly face life-threatening conditions far from help. The adult remains were identified; the precise final resting places of the two young boys remain unknown.

Black Eagle – Colorado River Steamship

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The Black Eagle was a small, experimental screw-propelled steamboat built and operated briefly in 1907 on the Green River (a major tributary of the Colorado River) near Green River, Utah.

Description

It was a modest wooden vessel designed for the shallow, variable conditions of the upper Colorado River system’s desert canyons and channels. Key specifications include:

  • Length: approximately 40 feet
  • Beam: 6 feet
  • Draft: 7–8 inches (extremely shallow, allowing it to navigate very low water)
  • Propulsion: screw (propeller) driven by a 20-horsepower compound vertical marine steam engine
  • Fuel: wood or coal
  • Builder/Owner/Operator: Harry T. Yokey (also referred to as H.T. Yokey), a local resident of the Green River/Elgin, Utah, area who experimented with various boats on the river starting around 1902–1903.

Contemporary recollections describe it as significantly smaller than contemporaneous vessels like the sternwheeler Cliff Dweller (about 70 feet long). It was launched in June 1907 just above the railroad bridge at Green River, Utah. One local account notes a man firing the boiler while the boat crossed the river on an upstream angle for roughly half a mile, with the vessel otherwise tied up along the shore.

Its shallow draft and relatively light construction suited exploratory or recreational use on a river known for sandbars, riffles, fluctuating flows, and difficult channels rather than sustained commercial traffic.

History of Usage

Harry T. Yokey, who lived in the Green River area from about 1903 and later retired there, built and ran multiple power boats on the Green River primarily for personal experimentation, testing navigability, and hunting trips rather than commercial freight or passenger service. He had earlier experience with rowboats (including a 1903 hunting trip down toward the cataracts) and other power craft, including involvement with vessels later associated with the Cliff Dweller/City of Moab lineage.

The Black Eagle was his largest boat. In 1907 it made one documented downstream trip of roughly 100 miles. During or after this run the boiler tubes blew out (the vessel is recorded as having “exploded” in 1907 in standard lists of Colorado River system steamboats). The engine and boiler were salvaged, and the hull was abandoned.

Yokey’s overall efforts, including the short career of the Black Eagle, underscored the practical difficulties of power navigation on this stretch of the Green River (between Green River, Utah, and Moab). Channels were hard to follow, sandbars and low water were persistent obstacles, and the river proved unsuitable for reliable commercial steamboat service in that era. By the time of later testimony, no power boats remained operating from Green River, Utah.

The Black Eagle belongs to the short-lived and largely unsuccessful chapter of steamboat attempts on the Green and upper Colorado Rivers in the late 19th and early 20th centuries (alongside vessels such as the Major Powell, Undine, Cliff Dweller, Comet, and Charles H. Spencer). These efforts contrasted with the more extensive commercial paddlewheel operations on the lower Colorado River from the 1850s into the early 1900s. Primary documentation comes from contemporary lists of Colorado River steamboats and from testimony and recollections preserved in Utah historical collections related to river navigation and water rights cases.

In summary, the Black Eagle was a brief, small-scale experimental craft that illustrated both the ingenuity of local river runners and the severe limitations of steam navigation on the upper Colorado system’s tributaries.

Lost Ship of the Mojave Desert

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The legend of lost ships in the Mojave Desert, particularly in California’s Colorado Desert near the Salton Sea, is one of the most enduring and enigmatic tales of the American Southwest. Stories of ancient maritime vessels—often Spanish galleons laden with pearls, gold, or other treasures—stranded in the arid sands have persisted for centuries. These accounts, rooted in Native American oral traditions, Spanish colonial records, and later American folklore, blend historical plausibility with speculative romance. This report examines the historical context, key accounts, and theories surrounding these alleged shipwrecks, assessing their feasibility and cultural significance.

Grok Image of the Lost Ship of the Mojave Desert
Grok Image of the Lost Ship of the Mojave Desert

Historical Context

The Mojave Desert, encompassing parts of Southern California, Nevada, Arizona, and Utah, is an unlikely setting for maritime tales. However, the region’s geological and hydrological history provides a plausible backdrop for such legends. The Salton Sea basin, located in the Colorado Desert (a subregion of the Mojave), lies more than 270 feet below sea level and was periodically filled by the Colorado River, creating a vast inland lake known as Lake Cahuilla. Historical records and geological evidence indicate that the Colorado River has repeatedly shifted its course, sometimes flowing into the Gulf of California and at other times flooding the Salton Sink to form Lake Cahuilla. These floods could have created temporary connections to the Gulf, potentially allowing ships to venture inland before becoming stranded as waters receded.

Spanish exploration of the Gulf of California in the 16th and 17th centuries further supports the possibility of ships reaching the region. Explorers like Hernando de Alarcón (1540) and Juan de Iturbe (1615) sailed up the Gulf and, in some cases, the lower Colorado River, seeking treasures, trade routes, or the fabled Straits of Anian—a mythical passage connecting the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans. The combination of unpredictable river flows, tidal bores, and navigational errors could have led to vessels becoming stranded in the desert.

Key Accounts of Lost Ships

Early Native American and Spanish Reports

Native American oral traditions, particularly among the Cahuilla and other tribes of the region, describe sightings of large “white birds” or ships sailing inland centuries ago. These accounts, recorded as early as the 19th century, suggest encounters with European vessels, possibly Spanish or even earlier visitors. For example, a Cahuilla chief named Cabazon reportedly shared a story in the mid-19th century of a “great white bird” sailing from afar, which some interpret as a reference to a Spanish ship.

Spanish records from the colonial period also hint at lost vessels. One prominent tale involves Juan de Iturbe, a Spanish captain who, in 1615, allegedly sailed a pearl-harvesting caravel up the Gulf of California. According to legend, a high tidal bore carried his ship into Lake Cahuilla, where it became stranded as the lake began to dry. Iturbe and his crew reportedly abandoned the vessel, leaving behind a fortune in black pearls, and trekked back to a Spanish settlement. This story, recounted in Antonio de Fierro Blanco’s 1933 book The Journey of the Flame, is one of the earliest and most detailed accounts of a lost ship.

19th-Century Sightings and Expeditions

Colonel Albert S. Evans, from A La California
Colonel Albert S. Evans, from A La California

The legend gained traction in the 19th century, particularly after the Colorado River flood of 1862, which reinvigorated interest in the region’s hydrological history. In 1863, Colonel Albert S. Evans reported seeing a half-buried ship in the desert, describing it as a hulk in a drying alkali marsh west of Dos Palmas, California, about 40 miles north of Yuma, Arizona.

The most famous 19th-century account involves Charley Clusker, a veteran of the Mexican-American War and a seasoned adventurer. In November 1870, Clusker led an expedition from San Bernardino, California, to find a Spanish galleon he believed was buried in the Colorado Desert. The Los Angeles Star reported on November 12, 1870, that Clusker was confident in locating an “ornately carved Spanish galleon, complete with crosses and broken masts,” based on information from local Native Americans. On December 1, the newspaper claimed Clusker’s party had found the ship but had returned to resupply after nearly perishing from dehydration. Clusker set out again but was never heard from thereafter, adding to the legend’s mystique.

20th-Century Reports

In 1933, librarian Myrtle Botts and her husband claimed to have glimpsed a ship in the Anza-Borrego Desert near Canebrake Canyon, based on a prospector’s tip. Botts described seeing a vessel jutting from a canyon wall but was unable to return due to harsh conditions. She believed it was a Viking ship, a theory shared by others, including three UCLA students who mounted an unsuccessful expedition in 1949.

More recent claims include unverified sightings in the 1970s of a smaller vessel, possibly a caravel, near the sand hills west of El Centro, California. Treasure hunters and amateur historians, such as John Grasson, have continued to pursue the legend, often citing shifting sands as a reason for the ship’s elusive nature.

Theories and Hypotheses

Several theories attempt to explain the lost ship legends:

  1. Spanish Galleon Hypothesis: The most popular theory posits that a Spanish galleon, such as Iturbe’s pearl ship or a vessel commissioned by King Philip III in 1610, was carried inland by a tidal bore or flood and stranded in Lake Cahuilla. The ship’s cargo of pearls, gold, or silver fueled treasure-hunting expeditions. This theory is supported by historical Spanish exploration and the region’s hydrological history.
  2. Pirate or English Ship: Some accounts suggest the ship could be Thomas Cavendish’s Content, an English pirate vessel that vanished in the Gulf of California in 1587 after plundering a Spanish galleon. The Content’s captain may have attempted to navigate the Straits of Anian, only to become stranded.
  3. Viking or Pre-Columbian Ship: Less credible theories propose that the ship is a Viking longship or a Phoenician vessel, based on speculative interpretations of Native American stories or artifacts like petroglyphs in Pinto Canyon. These claims lack archaeological evidence and are largely dismissed by scholars.
  4. Modern Misidentification: Some suggest the “lost ship” is a modern vessel, such as a ferry or steamboat abandoned after a Colorado River flood, or a schooner hauled into the desert by gold-seekers and left behind. These explanations account for some sightings but do not explain earlier accounts.
  5. Myth and Mirage: Skeptics argue that the lost ship is a myth perpetuated by mirages, sunstroke-induced hallucinations, or romanticized storytelling. The lack of definitive archaeological evidence supports this view, though the consistency of reports across centuries challenges it.

Feasibility Analysis

The plausibility of a ship in the Mojave Desert hinges on several factors:

  • Hydrological Conditions: Geological evidence confirms that Lake Cahuilla existed intermittently, with paleo-shorelines and fossilized mollusks indicating periodic flooding. A ship could have entered the lake during a high-water event, only to be stranded as the lake dried. The 1906 Colorado River flood, which created the modern Salton Sea, demonstrates the region’s susceptibility to such events.
  • Spanish Exploration: Historical records confirm Spanish voyages into the Gulf of California and up the Colorado River. Hernando de Alarcón reached modern-day Yuma, Arizona, in 1540, approximately 100 miles southeast of the Salton Sea, proving that ships could navigate far inland.
  • Tidal Bores and Floods: The Gulf of California’s powerful tidal bores, combined with Colorado River floods, could have pushed a ship into the Salton Sink. A documented 1922 tidal bore capsized a steamship, killing 86 passengers, illustrating the potential for such events.
  • Archaeological Challenges: The shifting sands of the desert could easily bury or obscure a shipwreck, explaining why no definitive evidence has been found. However, the lack of artifacts, such as cannon shot or ship timbers, weakens the case.

Despite these factors, scholarly skepticism persists. Archaeologist Don Laylander notes that the furthest documented Spanish voyage in the region was Alarcón’s in 1540, with no evidence of ships reaching the Salton Sea. Roberto Junco, an underwater archaeology expert, acknowledges the possibility of an undocumented shipwreck but emphasizes the lack of concrete evidence.

Cultural Significance

The lost ship legend has captured the imagination of generations, appearing in literature, media, and popular culture. Joaquin Miller’s 1875 poem The Ship in the Desert romanticized the tale, while radio shows like Death Valley Days (1940) and television episodes like Bat Masterson’s “The Desert Ship” (1959) brought it to wider audiences. The 2005 film Sahara, featuring a stranded Civil War ship in the desert, may have drawn inspiration from the legend.

The story reflects broader themes of the American West: the allure of treasure, the romance of exploration, and the clash between colonial ambition and indigenous knowledge. It also underscores the human tendency to weave narratives from sparse evidence, as Joan Didion noted: “We tell ourselves stories in order to live.” For treasure hunters like Charley Clusker and modern explorers like John Grasson, the lost ship represents not just wealth but a connection to a mysterious past.

Conclusion

The lost ships of the Mojave Desert remain an unresolved mystery, blending historical plausibility with legendary allure. While geological and historical evidence suggests that a ship could have become stranded in the region, the absence of definitive archaeological proof leaves the story in the realm of folklore. Whether a Spanish galleon, an English pirate ship, or a mirage born of desert heat, the legend continues to inspire curiosity and exploration. Future discoveries, perhaps aided by advanced imaging or fortuitous sand shifts, may yet reveal the truth behind this enduring tale.

Sources

  • DesertUSA.com, “The Lost Ship of the Mojave”
  • AngelFire.com, “The Legend of the Mojave Desert’s Lost Ships”
  • The Desert Sun, “5 Facts About the Lost Ship of the California Desert”
  • AltaOnline.com, “The Lost Galleon of the California Desert”
  • DesertUSA.com, “The Last Voyage of the Content”
  • TheWorldHour.com, “Quest for the Mojave Desert’s Lost Ship”

People Associated with the Lost Ship of the Mojave

Charles Clusker - Day Book (Chicago, IL), 16 June 1913, page 22 - Library of Congress - https://www.loc.gov/resource/sn83045487/1913-06-16/ed-1/?sp=22

Charles Clusker

Charles Carroll Clusker (1810–1915) was a Kentucky-born American adventurer, Mexican-American War veteran, prospector, and folk figure best known for his highly publicized but ultimately unsuccessful…
Colonel Albert S. Evans, from A La California

Colonel Albert S. Evans

Colonel Albert S. Evans, from A La California Colonel Albert S. Evans (c. 1831–1872) was an American journalist, explorer, author, and adventurer known for his…

Myrtle Botts

Myrtle Botts (likely born in the late 19th or early 20th century; died 1974) was a longtime librarian, local historian, and community figure in Julian,…

Colonel Albert S. Evans

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Colonel Albert S. Evans, from A La California
Colonel Albert S. Evans, from A La California

Colonel Albert S. Evans (c. 1831–1872) was an American journalist, explorer, author, and adventurer known for his colorful accounts of life in the American West, Mexico, and California during the mid-19th century. He wrote under the pen name “Fitz Smythe” and is best remembered today for his vivid travelogues and his role in popularizing the legend of the “Lost Ship of the Desert” (also called the Lost Ship of the Mojave or Colorado Desert).

Early Life and Career

Details about Evans’ early years are sparse. He was born around 1831 (some sources suggest New Hampshire ties). Prior to 1856, he lived in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where he worked as a broker. He later moved to Chicago and spent several years working for the Daily Journal. In 1861, amid the excitement of the Gold Rush era and the Civil War period, Evans relocated to San Francisco, California. There, he began a career in journalism with the Morning Call and served on the staff of the Governor of California during the Civil War.

Evans became a prominent figure in San Francisco’s literary and journalistic scene. He served for some years as local editor of the Daily Alta California, a leading newspaper, and feuded publicly with Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) while both were in the city. He was known for his adventurous spirit, exploratory travels, and engaging writing style that blended observation, humor, and drama. Evans was also a friend of New York Herald publisher Horace Greeley.

Major Works

Evans authored two notable travelogues:

  • Our Sister Republic: A Gala Trip through Tropical Mexico in 1869–70 (1870), detailing his journeys in Mexico.
  • A La California: Sketches of Life in the Golden State (1873, published posthumously), a collection of sketches about California life, including desert adventures, which incorporated his earlier writings.

These books were published by A. L. Bancroft of San Francisco and captured the spirit of the American West and borderlands with lively prose.

Involvement in the Search for the Lost Ship of the Mojave/Colorado Desert

Evans’ most enduring contribution to Western folklore stems from his claimed sightings of a mysterious shipwreck in the Colorado Desert (part of the broader Mojave/Colorado Desert region in California), which helped spark the “Lost Ship of the Desert” legend. This tale, one of many desert ship legends, describes a Spanish galleon or other vessel stranded far inland, possibly from the 16th or 17th century, laden with treasure and left behind due to shifting waters or floods of the Colorado River and ancient Lake Cahuilla.

In the autumn of 1863, during a period of intense gold and copper mining rushes across the Colorado Desert toward Arizona, Evans and a companion (Uncle Billy Thompson) took a “short cut” from San Gorgonio Pass eastward. They became lost, endured severe dehydration and hardship on the scorching sands and adobe mountains, and survived thanks to a small water deposit from a recent cloudburst. After reaching safety and later venturing into Arizona, Evans made a return trip. His horse, the faithful buckskin steed “Muchacho Juan,” died from eating poisonous desert weed near Dos Palmas (in the area of the modern Salton Sink). Evans continued on foot alone toward San Bernardino.

In his account “In the Valley of the Shadow” (published in The Galaxy magazine, January 1870, and later reprinted in A La California), Evans described walking westward from Dos Palmas across a vast, desolate playa (dry lakebed) under moonlight. He recounted seeing, far out in the center of what appeared as a “ghostly sea” of salt and alkali:

“Southward to the very horizon stretched a great plain of snowy salt, the white ghost of a dead sea which once covered all this accursed land but has passed away forever. Right in this burning pathway of light, far out in the center of the ghostly sea, where foot of man had never trod, lay in the distance the wreck of a gallant ship, which might have gone down there centuries ago, when the bold Spanish adventurers were pushing their way to the northwest in search of the fabled treasures of the famed Kingdom of Cibola.”

He portrayed the moon casting a shimmering track of light on the half-buried hulk, with masts or ribs visible like those of a “mighty monster.” Evans claimed this was not a mirage and later stated he had seen the ship on two occasions. The location was roughly west of Dos Palmas, near Palma Seca (also called Soda Springs or similar), about 100 miles or more from the sea in an alkali marsh or saline lakebed.

His published story in 1870 ignited widespread interest. Newspapers like the Los Angeles Daily News, Sacramento Union, and others reported on the wreck, describing it as a teak-built vessel visible from mesas. Expeditions, including one led by Charley Clusker from San Bernardino, set out to find it, but searchers returned empty-handed or with inconclusive results. Some theories suggested it was an optical illusion, a ferryboat or schooner hauled by oxen that broke down, or remnants from Colorado River floods. The legend persisted, with later variations linking it to Spanish pearl ships (e.g., Juan de Iturbe’s vessel) or pirate treasure. Today, much of the area is under the Salton Sea, making searches difficult.

Evans’ account stood out for its firsthand detail and literary flair, helping transform a regional rumor into a lasting American folklore staple, later inspiring poems (e.g., by Joaquin Miller) and further searches.

Death

Colonel Albert S. Evans died on October 22, 1872, at sea aboard the steamship Missouri, which burned during its passage from New York toward Havana. He perished in the disaster along with other passengers. His book A La California was published posthumously the following year.

Evans embodied the restless, adventurous spirit of the 19th-century American West—a journalist who lived the stories he told, from desert ordeals to political feuds and international travels. While his desert ship sighting remains unverified and likely exaggerated or misperceived (common in mirage-prone deserts), it cemented his place in California and Southwestern lore.