Paul Primer was a fireman on the Valencia who survived on the Topeka Raft. He had worked for the Pacific Coast Steamship Company for the last year. His name appears in newspapers in a variety of ways such as P. Poivner, P. Reimer and even T. Palmer.
The Valencia Disaster
1. The Valencia 2. The Voyage 3. The Boats 4. The McCarthy Boat 5. The Bunker Party 6. On the Valencia 7. The Rafts 8. The Turret Raft 9. The Rescue Ships 10. The Aftermath 11. The Survivors 12. The Lost
The West Coast Trail
Prologue 1: The West Coast Trail 2: When to Hike & Fees 3: Trailheads 4: Getting There 5: Considerations 6: Campsites 7: Shipwrecks 8: Routes 9: Sights & Highlights
It appears that Paul Primer is the correct spelling as the San Francisco Examiner copied P. Primer, 26 Essex Street, San Francisco from the phone book. Also, the San Francisco Chronicle printed a photo of him as well as other survivors. His name was printed as Paul Primer and the names of the other survivors were spelled correctly.
Primer's experience is only vaguely reported in newspapers at the time, so details of the events shown here are from other survivors. The Valencia wrecked just before midnight on Monday, January 22nd, 1906. Nearly 34 hours later, at 9am Wednesday morning the situation on the Valencia was horrific. Battered by waves, the ship was breaking apart and settling lower with every crashing wave that slammed into her. About 80 survivors remained clinging to the few upper parts of the ship still above water. Rescue ships had appeared in the distance, however no attempt at rescue had been made. Thomas Carrick, first assistant engineer on the Valencia later recalled, “The first ship that hove in sight was the Queen. The weather was nice until that time, but the wind shifted and a choppy sea set in. The Queen stood off about a mile and a half. I saw two boats swinging from the davits as if they were in readiness to be lowered.” Sam Hancock, the chief cook on the Valencia remembered, “The Queen came within a reasonable distance and stopped. A short time after two other vessels came in sight. The Queen apparently spoke the vessels and a tug came towards us, but turned around immediately and went away. No boat was lowered by any of the vessels.”
The Desperate Launch of the Life Rafts
With the Valencia breaking apart and no rescue forthcoming, the crew made a harrowing decision to launch their last two life rafts, known later as the Turret Raft and the Topeka Raft. These rafts, designed to float but not to shield occupants from the elements, left survivors partially submerged and exposed to freezing waves. Already exhausted, cold, and dehydrated, many aboard the Valencia hesitated to leap into the churning ocean to board the rafts, hoping instead for rescue from the nearby ships.
The Turret Raft: A Fragile Escape
The first raft, the Turret Raft, carried only 10 men—far below its estimated capacity of 18—due to the perilous boarding process. Survivors had to jump from the ship’s deck into the icy water, swim to the raft, and climb aboard while avoiding being crushed against the Valencia’s hull. The raft’s low buoyancy and unwieldy oars, rendered useless by submersion, made navigation treacherous. Despite these challenges, the Turret Raft miraculously cleared the breakers and drifted toward the open sea, its fate unknown to those left behind.
The Topeka Raft: A Crowded Struggle
Encouraged by the first raft’s departure, the crew prepared the second raft, the Topeka Raft, with renewed urgency. Six crewmen leapt into the water to stabilize the raft, but convincing others to follow proved difficult. Carrick recounted pleading with a young woman to board, only for her to flee in terror at the sight of the raft tossing violently below. Eventually, 19 men crowded onto the raft, which was likely only designed for 12-14. The overcrowded raft struggled through the breakers.
Conditions on the Topeka Raft were nightmarish. Carrick described the survivors standing waist-deep in freezing water, battered by waves, and unable to use the oars effectively. The men improvised, using oars as paddles while forming human “row-locks” to brace each other. Passenger Cornelius Allison recalled, “The water was so cold our limbs became numb. Huge seas buried us, and we choked on saltwater while trying to breathe.”
The Agony of Abandonment
As the Topeka Raft struggled toward the Queen, the ship steamed away, leaving the survivors in despair. Carrick noted, “The Queen disappeared from view. Most of the passengers were crushed with despair.” After hours of exposure, some men began to lose their sanity, “blubbering” or “frothing at the mouth,” as Carrick described. McCaffrey observed, “If we had been on that raft an hour longer, every man would have gone insane.”
Rescue at Last
After two agonizing hours, a shout from a passenger alerted the raft to the City of Topeka, a steamer searching the coast. The men rowed with desperate strength, waving a shirt tied to a boat hook to signal the ship. Initially, the Topeka seemed to turn away, plunging the survivors into despair. But then it approached, and a rescue boat was launched. Carrick recalled, “Some men were too weak to grasp the lines cast from the Topeka. If she hadn’t arrived when she did, we would all have succumbed to the cold.”
The 19 survivors of the Topeka Raft were hauled aboard. The Topeka Raft survivors along with Paul Primer were: quartermaster Martin Tarpey, passenger Cornelius Allison, first assistant engineer Tom Carrick, fireman William Doherty, baker Charles Fluhme, passenger George Harraden, passenger A.H. Hawkins, waiter Charles Hoddinott, third cook John Johnson, coal passer W.D. Johnson, first assistant freight clerk Frank Lehn, passenger Joseph McCaffrey, waiter Patrick O’Brien, second officer Peter Peterson, messman Walter Raymond, waiter John Walsh, passenger Grant Willits and fireman John Segalos. Most of the Valencia crew survivors are pictured here with Paul Primer shown bottom left.
Most of the Rescued Crew on the Topeka
Fireman Reimer Tells of Wreck
There was little mention of Primer in newspaper reports after the disaster, though he was interviewed in Seattle which the Seattle Star printed with the title, "Fireman Reimer Tells of Wreck". The article is almost entirely quotes of Primer, though the whole article is so flamboyantly written that it seems likely that much of it was embellished and quotes are only vaguely accurate.
FIREMAN REIMER TELLS OF WRECK
(Seattle Star 26 January, 1906)
Fireman P. Reimer, one of the survivors who was picked up on the life raft in the straits by the Topeka and returned to this city at an early hour this morning testifies to the noble conduct of his superior officers.
"There was no panic owing to their presence of mind," he said, "and as long as I live, I will remember how all four of these men walked that bridge, the flying spray everywhere, the thunder of the gale howling of the wind ringing a knell in their ears, but always with their faces to the front. During the most trying moments, at times when death seemed so near that we could feel his chilly embrace on every side, there was no flinching. Not for a minute did the threatening doom rob the captain or the others there on the bridge of their cheerful assurance, that, more than anything else, prevented any reckless outburst. All the dark night and even after the lights went out these officers continued in touch with everyone and we all felt a relief that they were there. The moment the ship struck the captain rushed to the bridge. I was down in the engine room with Third Engineer Nelson and a young sailor whose name I do not know. There came a first crash and then a second, and still a third, as the steamer pounded in over the ridges of rock strewing the shore."
"Immediately the captain sounded a signal to reverse engines. This we did, although realizing from the first contact that there was something dreadful happening. The water did not come down into the engine room for several minutes, but the steamer had hardly gotten clear of the last rocks when we saw it come pouring through the lower compartments. At once we notified those on the bridge and seeing that to remain at sea would send all to the bottom in a few moments Captain Johnson had the ship run on the rocks again, in an effort to stay on the top of the water. It was a horrible thing down there in that engine room with the thunder of the storm outside and the gurgling of the water as it fast filled the vessel's hull. It seemed as if the whole ocean were getting ready to smash the sides of the steel craft and inundate us. Something, however it must have been the sense of duty that should appeal to every man in times of emergency—kept us at the post and there like rats in a trap we remained to answer the signals from the bridge. When the ship had stuck fast a second time, and not until then, did we leave the engine room for the upper decks. As we started up an avalanche of water came flooding through the steamer from the upper decks, the result of an immense roller sweeping clear over the sides of the steamer."
"At once I realized the terrible nature of the accident, so far as the boat was concerned, but I do not think there was anyone aboard who appreciated that death was so near. "There was absolutely no panic. Of course some confusion ensued at first, but it was only a few moments until the people calmed down and sought various places as a sort of refuge from the terrible sea which swept in from the ocean and flooded the docks of the steamer at every swell. Captain Johnson advised everyone to stay by the ship until the exact nature of the accident could be learned and some definite idea formed as to our location, with reference to reaching a safe landing place ashore. A few of the seamen and a number of the passengers, however, were not satisfied, and as they felt portions of the steamer giving way under the tremendous beatings from the surging waters, they insisted on taking to the boats. The first one swung out on the davits was filled with women and children, the only men aboard being those seamen necessary to man the boats. Just as the boat hung over the sea and before those in charge started to lower away the rear davit broke and down our horror, we saw the craft tip down and there she hung from the forward davit rope, but most of the occupants disappeared in the waves and were not seen again. A little while later the second boat was lowered, but this one crashed up against the sides of the steamer as it was caught on the crest of an incoming wave and the struggling people all fell into the water. Next morning, we saw two men in a little cavern located just above the tide line, but they were drowned when the boat came in, they were drowned. Before daylight two more boats were launched, and those got away from the side of the vessel and passed away in the darkness. I do not know what became of them."
"At no time did the captain advise this departure in the boats. He asked everyone to stay by the ship, but this many refused to do. Even the next day, when our situation became so grave, he still insisted that the safest course was to stay with the vessel. We had a gun aboard and were in a position to shoot a rope ashore, but there was none there to handle the land end. Shortly after noon, on Tuesday, the boat in charge of Boatswain McCarthy was manned by volunteers and they were expected to make a landing, if possible, and pull in a heavy rope to stretch between the Valencia and the top of the cliffs opposite, so we could rig a breeches buoy and get to safety that way. After the boat passed out of our sight up the coast and we had every confidence that they would make their way to land and get around the shore all right the captain had one of the lines shot to the top of the bluff. There it hung suspended for hours and no one appeared to give us the help that we were all praying so earnestly for. Then, during the banging around of the wrecked vessel in the rocks the rope became caught and was cut in two."
"We then realized it was out of question to expect any help from land, so we settled down to wait for assistance from a passing vessel. We made out the Queen as she lay to at sea, but there was apparently no attempt made to lower a boat, although at this time I think it could have been done without very great risk. The people were being constantly washed overboard and the conditions were so awful that I could not hope to describe them to you. We saw the Queen when she left and then made out the Topeka standing by. There were also numerous tugs about, but not one of the rescue ships tried to get a boat in to us, which I think could have been done by the aid of a line. About the noon hour a life raft was lowered, when we saw that none of the steamers were going to send us a boat, and the women and children were requested to board it. This they refused to do, however, as they were backed up by Captain Johnson, who advised that they still remain with the ship. Then and not until then did the men get aboard the raft. Several jumped into the sea and clambered on, but there were none lost from the raft, as reported. There were 14 of us and we all succeeded in holding on until the Topeka was reached."
Mr. Reimer still shows unmistakable traces of the terrible experiences which he suffered during the period the Valencia was on the rocks and later on perilous journey aboard the life raft to the vessel out in the offing and the safety that seemed so hopeless of being reached through the foam-streaked ocean. He is a resident of San Francisco and will return to that city as quickly as he can make the necessary arrangements. In the meantime, he is being cared for by the steamship company and the union of which he is a member.
