For a period of about fifty years, beginning in 1832, shipbuilding was carried on in the town of Lyme. This gave employment to many until timber needed in this construction industry became scarce because of over cutting.

The first schooner was built on Point Peninsula by master builder Asa Wilcox in 1832, The schooner construction site was on the south shore of the "point" on the Fred Getman place. The remains of the dock where the first schooners were built are still there after 150 years.

The abstract to the Getman farm shows that Henry Getman, Fred’s father, bought the farm from Asa Wilcox on February 20,1860. Of interest is the fact that Asa Wilcox’s name is carved on the stair door of the old Bongard farmhouse which is adjacent to the Getman place both of which are located on the south shore of Point Peninsula.. It would appear that Asa Wilcox owned both of these places at one time.

Asa Wilcox, a prolific builder, constructed many sailing vessels and fishing boats. Between the years of 1835 and 1852 he had built over forty eight vessels, mainly at the shipyards of Three Mile Bay where he had removed to in 1835. Total tonnage of ships built by him in his shipbuilding career was a staggering 6,410 tons. The largest vessel built by Asa Wilcox was the "Congress" of 395 tons, built in 1836 on Pillar Point.

He not only was a master builder of ships but he constructed churches and homes as well. The Point Peninsula Church was built by him in 1834, and indications are that he built the Methodist Episcopal church in Three Mile Bay also. When this church steeple was repaired in 1934, Asa Wilcox’s name and initials M.B. (Master Builder), were discovered chiseled in the heavy timber of the tower framework.

Other ship builders of Point Peninsula were Greenleaf Rand and Sebra Howard. Sebra Howard built the ship, "New York," weighing eighty tons in 1832. In 1834 Greenleaf Rand built the "William Buckley" of 112 tons, and in 1836 the "Bancroft" and in 1837, the "G. C. Rand," each of the same tonnage and in the same shipyard.

It is interesting to note that on the 1836 marine chart of the mouth of the St. Lawrence river area, Point Peninsula was known as Point Howard.

"Why, don’t you tell about the wreck of the good ship ‘Commanche’ off the shore here by our farm when she went on the rocks there"?

It was John Becker speaking and he was addressing his father who was 80 , and a one time sailor on the lakes. So the father spoke briefly of this wreck and mentioned some others.

"I have been out in some bad storms." said the father, "and one sailing the lakes has had some strange experiences. Naturally, this long point extending out into the water of Lake Ontario would catch some wrecks, and it is equally natural that many of the young men born on this point of land, forever in sight of the lake, would become sailors. At one time we had a large number of young men who went from here each spring to sail. When a big storm or blow would come along in the fall it always sent the mothers, wives, and sweethearts a-worrying. They would not settle down until we could get word from all the ships on which our young men were sailing.

“I never sailed as some did. I mean in terms of years, but still I have spent quite a lot of time on board ships, and had relatives that spent their entire lives. I remember one day when we were on the upper lakes our captain took a look at the weather and predicted a big blow and a hard storm. As we had the opportunity to get to cover we took it. It was a very good thing for us as it was a very bad storm. Probably one that is seldom equaled. When the reports came in we learned that there had been a great loss of lives and the toll of the vessels taken was the largest known. I remember that there were forty ships lost in that storm, and that is a lot to take out in on wind storm.

“But this ship that went on the rocks here some forty three years ago 1886 was not such a bad wreck in that there was a great loss of lives, or anything like that, but because the boat held fast on the rocks. The Commanche was bound down the lakes loaded with corn. When near Oswego there was a bad storm and the ship was disabled.

“She signaled for help. I think she burned a fire on her deck. When they came out to answer the signal they asked a very high price to take her in. The captain had to pay it or else run the risk of having his boat and cargo lost. After some days in the Oswego harbor and the storm had gone down they got a tug to tow them the rest of the trip. There came up a squall when off this point - a snow storm I think. Captain couldn’t see very well and his compass must have gone wrong for all of a sudden he saw he was close to shore, and headed for the rocks. He cut his line, and veered off, but the Commanche had to go helplessly forward strong onto the shelving rocks and held there fast. She froze in and when the ice got thick enough we got teams and unloaded the ship. We put corn in this barn here and believe me we had a lot of it. We filled every place we could find. In time we sold the corn out. That was the nearest wreck we ever had to this house."

This story was told by Almenzo Becker, who was born on the North Shore and lived on Point Peninsula all his life. He was born November 16,1850, the son of John and Ann (Schuyler) Becker. He died Oct. 12,1932.

Story number two

These are the words of eighty-six year old Mr. Merton Angell, who as a boy, saw this tragedy of a wrecked ship, and the drowning of a rescuer. Mr. Angell’s father was David Angell, who is mentioned in the story as "My Father."

“In the fall of 1886 occurred one of those tragic events that at times sadden the people of a community. On the evening of the day of a huge storm, the people were aroused by the loud continuing blast of a tug boat off that portion of the western shore of Point Peninsula known as the Toad Hole. Investigation by a few people witnessing the sound, including myself, revealed that the two sets of lights were nearing the bar. Within a matter of minutes, the lights separated, proving that one was a tug which soon disappeared around the head of the point an the other vessel which had run aground there.

“As daylight set in, the light revealed a dismasted vessel less than half a mile off shore, and from the top the broken mast, hung a lantern the signal of distress. The wind, which had blown a gale the day before, still blew with great force. There were several boats on the shore but none of them large enough in which to perform a rescue.

“My father and Al Becker went to the village with a team and brought back a larger boat.

“Meanwhile, Porter Dingman and his brother with two other men, all came down, prepared to start rescue. They all wanted to go, but it would be foolish to start with a load, so Porter and a young man named Fred Tucker went alone. They arrived at the vessel safely but Tucker was badly scared and declared he would stay on the ship until the Captain had gone ashore.

“The larger boat arrived and made several trips in safety to the vessel so that only Tucker and the Captain remained. On this last trip, a wave struck the rescue boat just right, filling the craft with water, and throwing the four men into the water with nothing to cling to except the capsized boat. The crowd on the shore made a rush for the Dingman boat, but it was decided that only one man should go, since there were four others to be rescued.

“In the icy November water, whatever was to be done had to be done fast. Bill Graves, six feet tall and fifty years old, was sent to do the job. Before he even reached the capsized boat, a cry from the crowd went up that one had already gone down. Meanwhile my father and another went on the run for the smaller boat in Lance’s boat house. Fortunately , the oars were in the boat. Quickly, they rowed it to the Toad Hole point where one man jumped in to find the lost one. Thus there were tow boats trying to rescue. With good luck, the men struggling in the icy water were gotten in boats and safely transported to shore and then to some of the nearby farm houses where they were revived by a welcome fire.

“The vessel which was from Chicago, was headed for Ogdensburg with a load of corn when she realized that the storm was too much and it would be better if she headed for Point Peninsula for protection. Tug boats the next day lodged the vessel firmly on the bar and let her remain there through the winter. In the spring it was pulled off, patched up and returned to her duties as a canal boat.”

An old house which is located near the "Toad Hole" has the reputation for being haunted. The reason for this is most likely due to the fact that the old dwelling still stands not far from the road in a very aged state, completely hidden from sight by a dense covering of trees and tangle of brush and vines, so that in your approach you do not even know that it is there until you are very near.

This is the house that was occupied for so many years by the Barnes family and was probably built by George Barnes, an early settler to this place from down near Cooperstown, in Otsego Country. The son of George, also named George, sailed the Great Lakes for quite a few years. Other from this family that also sailed were Billy and Dave Barnes.

This account was told to me by Myron Holbrook, whose mother was Rhobe Barnes. In the back kitchen of this old house was a tin trunk left there many years ago by some old sailor who used to stay there. When Myron misbehaved as a boy he was admonished by being told that he would be put into this trunk if he did not conduct himself better. He never forgot this or the effects of the tales of the sailor’s life told around the supper table in the Barnes’s home when he was a child.

It is said by some that if you wander into this ancient sailors’ domain during the night time hours by the back kitchen door, you might just see an apparition of an old sailor with a long grey beard, a pipe in his hand and his sailor’s cap beside him on the old tin trunk.

The phantom appears to be elaborating ghostly tales of a sailor’s life. He makes no sound but one still hears the frenzied shouts of the captain to his crew against the background roar of the savage waves pounding the ship’s hull and the whine of the wind in the canvas and cables.

“Now all of this can’t be real," you try to tell yourself. "It’s just my mind playing tricks on account of the general spookiness of the place."

Gradually the specter vanishes along with the sound of a ship fighting for its life in the storm. Now there is only the swish of the gentle breeze moving through the brush and trees of the old yard out back. You carefully back from the creaky kitchen while things are back to normal.

The wrinkled mariner could come back before the night is over and again take his seat on the musky trunk.

Many years ago Point Peninsula was covered by a beautiful virgin forest. At first the settlers were lumbermen in order to clear their land for crops and for a time ship building was carried on. As the oak trees that were needed in the construction of the ships; framework gradually faded from the scene a new industry formed around the shipping wharves.

Today it might be difficult to comprehend the once prosperous life around the docks with sailors busy tying schooners to the dock, men loading hay onto scows, and seed and coal and other supplies being off-loaded but the need was there because of the lack of roads and railroads.

It was found that timothy hay grew exceptionally well on this low windswept Peninsula of 7000 acres that juts out into Lake Ontario. The convenience of shipping points by barge at several places around Point Peninsula and North Shore went hand in hand with the production of timothy, making this industry an important part of this community’s economy. At one time there were two piers that ran out into deep water, one of which was complete with a wharf-house, on the south shore of Point Peninsula where barges off-loaded coal and took on hay to be delivered to railroad shipping point at Sackets Harbor and Cape Vincent.

A great deal of barley was also grown on the Point and schooners tied up at the docks to load barley for Oswego.

The village docks of Point Peninsula at one time were commonly known as "City Docks" and a short distance south at the other end of the village there is a sand bar still known as "City Point."

Near the head of Point Peninsula there is a projection of land on which a hay shipping pier was built and known as "Sam’s Point" named for Sam Harris who once owned the land. Sam and his brother George came originally from England and first settled at Sackets Harbor but later bought land at the head where the haydock was built. A few years after this Sam Harris moved to Lorraine to live.

It was not unusual for hay scows to come into the village docks or Dingman’s dock near the head of the point, load and take away a thousand or more 200 pound bales of hay to a load. Sometime these scows would sail under their own power, and then again they might be towed by the tug, "Little Mac", to Cape Vincent or Sackets Harbor. The last year that hay was taken from the point in that manner was about 1929.

The Carrying Place was another ideal location for the loading of hay. The scows loaded east of a point of stones that are back of a barn under the break of the Carrying Place hill. There is about ten to twelve feet of water just off the shore at that location. The scow tied up to a big maple tree that stood there, around 1915, and then was kept in deep water by poles braced against the bank.

Men wheeled the hay aboard the boats up a plank on special wheel barrows each carrying four bales or eight sacks of grain. In either case the load would be about eight hundred pounds. Burt Wright used to be known as one of the best men to wheel these bales onto the scow.

Now this activity and the men that carried it on are all part of the past and the grinding of ice floes has carried away the timbers of the original docks and scow. Only memories and piles of rock remain as to the existence of this once flourishing industry.