Survivors

This page is devoted to those sailors who were ordered to abandon ship on September 8, 1923 at Point Honda and lived to tell about it.

Any survivors of the accident who are still alive will be in their 90+ years of age. Some family member may have to help log them in, as 'cruising the web' will probably be difficult to handle. This is the place to do it. We need to account for every living survivor. We know the heroes who died in the 'Jaws of Honda', and we met on Sept. 8, 1998 to let them know we still remember their sacrifice. We also honored the two survivors who found their way to a full life.

Log-In Instructions:

Click on the words log me in, I'm alive and when your email program opens up, enter your subject matter as "Survivor of Honda", and tell us a little about yourself and your experience at Pt. Honda. Also, include your full name, home address, email address, telephone number, and the name of your ship. Finally, click your send button and relax. We'll take care of the rest!

Gene Bruce, North Hollywood, CA

On Dec. 7, 2005, Robert Schwemmer informed me via email that Gene Bruce passed away at 1335 on Dec. 6, 2005. Gene was 98 years old. He died at his home in North Hollywood with Anne, his wife of forty-five years, and three sons by his side. Gene was our last known survivor of the Point Honda naval accident. Seaman Second Class Bruce served aboard the USS Chauncey at the time of the stranding on Sept. 8, 1923.

Gene at Point Honda, Vandenberg AFB, with Woodbury Rock in the background

Mr. Robert Schwemmer, a dear friend of Gene Bruce, wrote and read a poem in Gene's honor at a private service held in Van Nuys, California. It is included here in it's entirety.

The members of Point Honda Watch are grateful to Mr. Schwemmer for being at Gene's side for the final journey. If Gene is truly our last known survivor, when the skipper of the Chauncey holds muster of the crew high in the heavens, a loud and clear report of "All Present" should be heard. May they rest in peace.

In Honor of Gene Bruce

Survivor Of The Honda Point Naval Disaster

And

Friend

Read by Robert V. Schwemmer

8 December 2005

I am standing above the cliff face over looking Honda Point

Fog blankets the offshore waters as witnessed by navigators that for

centuries dared to sail these unforgiving waters nicknamed Devil’s Jaw

A ship, gray in color, slowly makes her way from behind Destroyer Rock

I can clearly make out the white numbers that adorn her bow

296

From deep within the ship I can hear her come to life as black smoke billows

from her four funnels and is carried away by the morning breeze

Her sharp bow, a testament to her design for speed gracefully turns to sea

A small ray of sunshine penetrates through the fog as her stern comes into view

In gilded gold letters I can make out her name

USS Chauncey

Home Port

Heaven

Suddenly the water at her stern is frothing in white foam as her powerful

bronze propellers chop at the sea with expectation of starting the voyage

Her bow slowly cuts through the deep blue sea as she picks up speed

The blanket of fog mysteriously starts to part

Off in the distance I can make out what appears to be several

more ships as though waiting in long anticipation of this glorious day

As the Chauncey bears down on the flotilla you can hear steam whistles

blasting in celebration of her arrival the last sailor has arrived

The six ships fall into formation in front of the Chauncey

As their sterns come into view highlighted by the sun rays

casting down from the heavens above I can read the names

USS Delphy

USS S. P. Lee

USS Young

USS Woodbury

USS Nicholas

USS Fuller

They are an object of beauty and strength

I stand and watch these greyhounds of the sea until at length they hang like a

speck of gray clouds just where the sea and sky unite with each other

Then someone at my side says: “There, they are gone!”

Gone where?

Gone from our sight

That is all

They are just as large in hull and strength as they were when they left our side

and as able to bear their crew of living sailors to their destined port

And just at the moment when someone at my side says: “There, they are gone!”

there are other eyes watching them coming, and other voices ready to

take up the glad shout:

“Here they come!”

The blanket of fog as quickly as it parted

once again closes in concealing the offshore rocks at Point Honda

Our sailor is home

Written by

Robert Schwemmer

With selected poem verses from an anonymous writer