Of all the wrecks in the Clyde, this one has the most exciting of histories, imagined, real and never to be.

Let us go back to 1863 and sit in some warm hostelry somewhere in Glasgow and listen in on the conversation of two worthies setting the world to rights as they do today. With a couple of shillings they have managed to view the world more or less as they would wish it and their thoughts turn to troubled times over in America where the Federal Government is desperately trying to blockade the Confederate ports.

"Aye," one remarks, regarding the bottom of his glass which is surprisingly clear and accepts an offer of another with alacrity, "but it's closer to home we should be lookin' on that score." The other nods. Both of course know that the Clyde is supplying blockade runners as well as vessels to catch them. All very profitable for the Clyde of course, but is it right? Not that officially anyone is knowingly supplying them to the Amercian agents on both sides, but all the same, we all know it's going on.

"And look at that wan that is said to have sunk aff Gourock," both nod at this.

The story goes that in the previous year a David Hutchison steamer - the IONA - had been bought by Confederate agents under the pseudonym "The Emperor of China" and was making her way to America when she was struck by a steamer and sank in the dark.

"Handy that," said one to the other, "very handy indeed. Sunk in the dark"

"Aye, most appropriate," his friend agreed, "I hear tell that investigations have proven the story is just a ruse"

Now sitting in a corner of the bar is a man from another part of town, a Partick man and he can stand the talk no longer. With a swagger born of his breed he steps up to the two older worthies and asks if he can treat them. To halfs and not half truths. The two philosphers accept his offer and he sits down with them

"You are there and you are talking of a ship I was on," he informed them and they eagerly craned forward, "I work in Tod & McGregor's and I can tell you the truth of it."

"We were taking the CHANTICLEER out on trials. A fine boat too and my job is to check the various instruments on the bridge and see that they are responding properly you understand? Well, everything had gone accordingly and we set off back for the river after leaving the measured mile"

He paused to take a swig of his own whisky and to check the men were listening and understanding, both were nodding along with him encouragingly.

"It was dark by that time and we were steaming back at eight knots. We had just got to Fort Matilda yonder, when suddenly, BANG! " and he crashed his fist into the table, "we smashed into the hull of this grey steamer that appeared from nowhere. No lights gentleman, no lights and as grey as a Clyde sky in winter."

His two eager listeners nodded at each other with great satisfaction. The details so far painted a true picture indeed. This ship the storytellers vessel had hit had been up to no good and no mistake.

"Well gentlemen, I need hardly tell you we got a fright but our master is no slouch and straightaway he bellows orders to get the chaps on that boat into ours. We had fair sliced the thing in two and even as all this is going on I am looking at her and I know who she is, pitiful a sight as she was. Her stern was slipping as these men jump from her onto the CHANTICLEER.

"And a rum lot if I ever I saw rogues some of them were," he looked from one to the other, "I see two honest Glasgow men in front of me now, but the chaps as was on that boat were not gentlemen. Drunk some of them were too. I was afraid they not make it as they staggered onto our ship. They even had a stowaway aboard!"

"A stowaway?" one of his audience repeated incredulously

"Aye indeed. Show's what slackness there was on such a wee vessel. Anyway, we get them all on board and they are not the best pleased with us at all, shouting at us for having no lights. Us? It was them floating about the channel with no regard for anyone else's safety nor their own. I tell you, I am thinking to myself, 'What are this lot up to?' when another vessel hails us and offers a line to the captain of the sinking vessel but he was having none of it. None of it."

"He refused an offer to save his ship?" again incredulity in the voice of the enquirer. Another round of drinks was ordered as the tale became murkier.

"He says to our master 'If you admit that you are responsible for this, I will take a line' says he, 'but she can sink for all I care if you don't'. Well our master knows fine he is not to blame. All our lights were as they should be and we knew fine that this mystery ship would be in a bit of bother explaining itself. So he gives orders that we are to push the damned thing to shore if we can. Real seamanship." he paused for a while in reverance and took a satisfied and satisfying measure of whisky, "but, we could see it was a lost cause. Half of her was already gone and try as he could, our master could make no good of the situation, and he tried mark you, to best of his ability, but, she slipped down into the channel and was gone."

The three remained silent for a while each absorbed in the intricacies of the tale.

"So what happened after that?" our man was asked.

"Well we made for port and got that lot of our ship. You don't run around the Clyde with rogues like that for shipmates. Ach, they made all sorts of noises about us being hauled up, but they seemed to me to be just doing that, making noises as if they were really hurt. But, you know, from the looks of some of their eyes, I could tell they were pleased and good to be rid of their charge."

"So you are saying..."

"I am saying nothing gentleman except what I saw." said the man firmly "If you want to take anything from it that is your business and none of mine. All I can say is that if it were me facing a long perilous journey in a coastal mail steamer - for that is who she was - it is myself would wish the thing to sink before she left port."

All three agreed that it was fruitless to conjecture too much, but of course, there could only be one reason why a ship would be making it's way down the Clyde, without lights, painted to be invisible and in the darkness of a cold autumn night. The storyteller threw back his final whisky and bid the other two good night and with a swagger born of his breed and evening's entertainment, he left them to ponder his tale.

"Well, he strikes me as an honest man, and it sounds like the IONA story right enough." one of the friends remarked. "Aye, I have no doubts now as to the truth of it. Them reports of her sinking being a ruse are just blethers. Wait till I tell the folks we met a man who actually sank her!"

They laughed delightedly at the prospect of being able to relate such a great tale and put to rest these doubts as to the sinking of the IONA when another gentleman, a man who had been reading a book quietly in a corner decided he too knew more than they knew and it was time they were fully enlightened.

"Gentlemen, may I join you?" he asked as he pulled out a purse and extracted a coin. The prospects for this evening were promising so long as this gentleman was leading the rounds and he seemed more than prepared to engage. "I heard the story your erstwhile friend told and, remarkable as it was, I fear he may not be as honest as his appearance suggests."

"Now I am not a seafaring man," he excused himself, "nor do I know much about the subject, my interest being mainly books and publishing, but listen to good advice, there are many who are being led astray by this " he pointed to the drinks on the table, "and this" and he pointed to his purse.

Both stared at the drinks, the purse and then the face of this wealthy man. "I dont quite get your meaning?" admitted one of our friends.

"I am saying that to muddy the waters a little, many a tale is told and that tale is encouraged from 'certain parties' to ensure confusion."

This seemed too incredible even after so much 'good spirits'. The wealthier man sighed. "Perhaps you can explain to me then why this vessel that is supposed to have sunk in nearly two pieces has been puchased by a 'Glasgow man'"

"What?" spluttered one of the pair, "is that true?"

"I have it on good authourity. Sold, gentleman, to someone in this city for a modest sum of money" he lingered on the last words of his sentence.

The least credulous of the pair thought for a moment, "Simple. It's simple. She was sold for salvage"

The wealthy man sighed again, "Yes, but only if she really did sink would that be the case. Let me put it to you gentleman that the exceedingly interesting tale you heard this evening was encouraged and built upon. Money is flowing around the river of this city that came from certain former colonies. A lot of it. How much do you think they would need to persuade a few to tell some good stories? And if so, you have to ask the question, where is IONA now? She is not on, or in, the Clyde gentleman, I assure you."

And so the evening progressed until final orders. The Partick man was already home, pleased he had managed to put right a story. The wealthy man went home to his good wife and shook his head at the foolishness of working class people, and our two dear friends supported each other to the street where they lived, minds reeling from all the different tales that abounded about the mysterious loss of the former Ardishaig mail steamer IONA. And for years such stories would be told and the history of the IONA would be as murky as the waters she does indeed lie in until of course the truth became clearer as the Civil War ended and it was safer to be more open about what really went on.

Elsewhere on the site I have posted about the use of Clyde steamers at the time of the American Civil War. Agents from both sides were reputedly seen eyeing up potential craft that could either break the blockades or catch the blockade runners.

The vessel type the blockade runners wanted was fast and with a shallow draught and the Clyde had the perfect answer - it's own paddle steamers. Greyhounds of their day they were built in an atmosphere of intense and often bitter competition, each owner wanted ever faster tonnage to beat off the competition at the piers.

So this pedigree gave the Clyde steamer an unusual career choice and the owners were only to pleased to part with their prize steeds for very lucrative rewards from the Americans. But these dealings were shady indeed, fictional companies, fictional voyages and much fiction flowed from these dealings - as can be seen above.

One such steamer sold was indeed the 1855 IONA, who plied her honest trade so well she got her own American following. David Hutchison & Company had ordered her for their expanding services but by 1862 they may have felt they wanted new tonnage anyway, as development of ships proceeded rapidly in the sixties. She was however, just the job for the Confederates and they duly purchased the vessel. The offer Hutchison got was too good to refuse even if she was still a useful and good boat. Immediately an order for a new IONA was placed, but more of that later...

What happend to her is indeed the story related by the Partick man in our tale above. It is clear to me that the captain of the IONA was only to glad to be rid of her and it was not in his interests to be embroiled in an inquiry, much better if the CHANTICLEER master took responsibility. That he did not do, the vessel was lost, all hands were saved. Did they just slip into the darkness of history as IONA slipped into the darkness of the Clyde? I am not sure and would love to know if an enquiry was held and what it's results were. For all that the above tale contains elements of the discussions and rumours that abounded, it is better if even today we get hard facts.

Nonetheless, it is stories that make history interesting and the many stories that buzzed around the Clyde must have made for much more entertaining evenings in watering holes up and down the country!

She lies now quite well buried in the mud, and much of her form is almost unrecognizable, however, divers report her engines are very much in shape. A poignant reminder of the power that the Confederates so much wanted.

And does that end this article? Not quite.

Believe it or not the Confederates bought the second of our IONAs - the very one Hutchison placed an order for. The following year, In 1863, they snapped up this new mean machine as well!

Unfortunately, they shouldn't have bothered. On her way across, she too foundered, this time off Lundy Island.

(With many thanks to John Newth for supplying corroborative information and new angles on this most exciting of times on the Clyde)