Colonel Albert S. Evans

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.

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 1870 expeditions in search of the legendary “Lost Ship of the Desert” (also associated with the Salton Sink or Salton Sea basin) in California’s Colorado Desert.

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 – 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

Early Life and Background

Born on March 27, 1810, in Madison County, Kentucky, Clusker grew up in the early American frontier era. Details of his youth are sparse, but like many of his generation, he was drawn westward by opportunities for adventure and fortune. He served as a veteran of the Mexican-American War (1846–1848), which likely exposed him to the Southwest and California territories.

After the war, Clusker migrated to California during or following the Gold Rush period. He was described as a lifelong adventurer and prospector who had come to the state years earlier seeking gold. By the late 1860s/early 1870s, he was based in the San Bernardino area of Southern California, where he gained a local reputation for veracity and sense, according to contemporary newspaper accounts.

He lived a long life, dying on October 25, 1915, at age 105 in San Diego, California. He is buried in Greenwood Memorial Park in San Diego, in the Elks Rest plot, with an inscription noting his affiliation with the San Bernardino Lodge No. 836 B.P.O. Elks (suggesting community ties in that area).

Life as an Adventurer and Prospector

Clusker embodied the archetype of the 19th-century Western prospector and explorer—restless, hardy, and willing to endure extreme hardship in pursuit of riches or legends. Post-Mexican War, he joined the waves of migrants and miners flooding into California. His later fame (or notoriety) stemmed from treasure-hunting expeditions rather than major mining successes. He appears to have been known locally in San Bernardino as a credible figure, which lent weight to his claims when he announced discoveries.

Little is documented about his personal life, family, or other activities beyond his military service, prospecting, and the ship expedition. His advanced age at death indicates remarkable resilience, having survived the rigors of frontier life, desert expeditions, and the Civil War era.

The Search for the Lost Ship of the Salton Sink (Detailed Report)

The “Lost Ship of the Desert” (sometimes called the Lost Galleon or associated with the Salton Sink/Salton Sea basin) is a persistent legend of a Spanish treasure vessel (often described as a pearl-laden galleon or caravel commanded by Juan de Iturbe around 1615) that supposedly sailed up the Colorado River or was carried by a tidal bore/flood into the inland Salton Sink (an ancient lake bed, now partially the Salton Sea) and became stranded far from the sea. Native American stories, Spanish-era tales, and later sightings fueled the myth, with the ship said to contain pearls, treasures, ornate carvings, crosses, and broken masts, often half-buried in sand or mud near areas like Dos Palmas.

Clusker’s involvement in 1870 became one of the most prominent chapters in this legend, generating newspaper coverage and public excitement before fading into obscurity.

Timeline and Events of Clusker’s Expeditions (1870):

  • Lead-up and Initial Expedition: Inspired by Indian reports and regional lore placing the ship roughly 30–50 miles west of Dos Palmas (northeast of the Salton Sea basin) in areas of alkali marshes, boiling mud springs, or shifting sands, Clusker organized a party. He had previously made a trip a few weeks earlier but encountered difficulties (e.g., miring his wagon).
  • November 12, 1870: The Los Angeles Star reported that “Charley Clusker and a party started out again this morning to find the mythical ship upon the desert this side of Dos Palmas.” He was equipped with a good wagon, pack saddles, and planks for crossing sandy ground, demonstrating preparation for the harsh terrain.
  • The Claimed Discovery: According to reports, Clusker and his party endured severe hardships, including running out of water and food. He claimed to have located an ornately carved Spanish galleon, mostly buried in the sand, with crosses and broken masts, in a remote region far from water (described as 50 miles or more from Dos Palmas in an area of boiling mud springs). He reportedly nearly perished from dehydration under the “hot broiling sun” for over 24 hours but returned to civilization.
  • December 1, 1870: Newspapers like the San Bernardino Guardian excitedly announced success: “Charley Clusker and party returned from the desert yesterday… They had a hard time of it, but they have succeeded in their effort. The ship has been found! Charley returns to the desert today, to reap the fruition of his labors.” The Daily Alta California vouched for his credibility: “Mr. Clusker stands high in this community for veracity and sense. He certainly believes he has found the SHIP, and every one here believes him. He starts to-morrow again, taking several barrels for water.”
  • Follow-up and Failure: Clusker returned to the site with renewed supplies but could not relocate the ship. Subsequent reports indicate the party (including members like Joshua Talbot) returned without success. By January 1871, the San Bernardino Guardian noted the return of the prospectors without the ship. Clusker largely disappeared from the public record afterward, much like the elusive vessel itself. No treasure or verifiable wreck was recovered.

Context and Evaluation: Clusker’s claims fit the pattern of many “lost ship” sightings—brief glimpses, difficult conditions preventing thorough documentation, and subsequent failure to rediscover due to shifting sands, mirages, or exaggeration. Historians and skeptics suggest possible explanations like optical illusions, abandoned wagons/ferry boats (e.g., mule-hauled craft from earlier efforts), or deliberate embellishment for a “grubstake” (funding). Harold O. Weight’s 1977 article in Desert Magazine (“Charley Clusker and the lost ship”) explored this, noting it as a potential way to secure support for further prospecting.

The legend persisted with later claimed sightings (e.g., by Myrtle Botts in the 1930s), but no conclusive physical evidence has emerged. Modern factors like the Salton Sea’s formation (1905–1907) and military land use have complicated searches. Clusker’s effort remains a colorful example of how frontier folklore blended hope, hardship, and hype in the American West.

Legacy

Clusker is remembered primarily through the Lost Ship legend in books, articles, documentaries (Myth Hunters), and online discussions. He symbolizes the enduring allure of desert mysteries and the risks of treasure hunting. His long life and brief fame highlight the blend of fact and myth in California’s pioneer history. While he found no ship or fortune, his story endures as part of the rich tapestry of Southwestern tall tales.

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, California, best remembered today for her role in popularizing the legend of the “Lost Ship of the Desert” (often associated with the Mojave or Colorado Desert regions).

Early Life and Background

Details about Botts’ early life are sparse in public records. She married Louis Botts, and the couple settled in Julian, a small mountain town in San Diego County known for its Gold Rush history. Julian provided a tight-knit community where Myrtle became deeply involved in local affairs. By the 1930s, she worked as the town librarian, a position she held for decades (her daughter Jeri later took over the role around 1935, and Myrtle continued until retiring in 1968).

She was known for her intelligence, wide reading, and enthusiasm for history and nature, despite having only a high school education. Contemporaries described her as talented and brilliant. She played an active role in community events, such as chairing the annual Julian Wildflower Show in the 1940s.

Contributions as Historian and Librarian

Botts dedicated much of her life to preserving Julian’s history. She authored History of Julian, a key local publication (with editions or printings around 1959 and 1969) that chronicled the town’s founding during the 1869–1870 gold rush, its pioneers, mining operations, and development into a enduring community.

Her work is cited in later historical accounts of Julian, including studies of its African American pioneers and overall resilience beyond the boom-and-bust mining era. She was involved with the Julian Historical Society and the Julian Pioneer Museum, where artifacts related to her stories (including materials tied to the lost ship legend) are preserved.

Botts also interacted with notable local figures, including poet and author Marshal South (and his family), who lived reclusively on nearby Ghost Mountain in the Anza-Borrego Desert. South reportedly developed a deep (possibly romantic) affection for her, exchanging letters and poetry. The Botts family remained close to the Souths; Myrtle and Louis helped with arrangements after Marshal South’s death in 1948.

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

Botts’ most famous contribution to regional lore came in 1933, during a camping and wildflower-viewing trip with her husband Louis near Agua Caliente Springs in what is now Anza-Borrego Desert State Park (part of the broader Colorado Desert, often linked to Mojave Desert legends).

According to accounts she later shared:

  • The couple met an old prospector who claimed to have seen the remains of an ancient ship—specifically described as a Viking longship—protruding from the side of a canyon or arroyo (often identified as Canebrake Canyon or nearby Tierra Blanco Canyon). He noted distinctive features like round shields along its sides and a serpentine figure on the prow.
  • The prospector provided written directions, which are reportedly preserved at the Julian Pioneer Museum.
  • Following the directions, Myrtle reportedly caught a glimpse of the ship from a distance. She returned to fetch her husband for a closer look and better-equipped expedition the next day.

However, they were unable to relocate it. Botts attributed this to a 6.4-magnitude earthquake centered off Huntington Beach, California, which she believed caused rocks and debris to bury the wreck. No photographs were taken, and subsequent searches (including her own returns) failed to rediscover it.

Her story added a 20th-century chapter to the long-standing “Lost Ship of the Desert” legend, which dates back to Spanish-era tales of a galleon (possibly from the 16th–18th centuries) stranded inland due to shifting seas, floods, or ancient waterways connected to the Salton Sea or Colorado River. Variants include Spanish treasure ships, Viking vessels, or other craft. Botts’ account helped sustain interest in the mystery, inspiring later expeditions (e.g., by UCLA students in 1949 or explorer John Grasson). Skeptics view it as folklore or misidentification, but it remains a colorful part of desert mythology.

Botts recorded claims from others who said they had seen ship remnants with Scandinavian features, further embedding the Viking narrative in local lore.

Later Life and Legacy

Myrtle Botts continued her library work, historical writing, and community involvement into her later years. She passed away in 1974. Her husband Louis survived her for some time.

She is remembered as a dedicated preserver of Julian’s heritage and a key figure in one of California’s most enduring desert mysteries. Her History of Julian and the ship story documented at the Pioneer Museum ensure her place in the region’s cultural history. While the lost ship has never been conclusively found (and many consider it legendary), Botts’ earnest accounts added intrigue and encouraged exploration of the Anza-Borrego badlands.

Her life exemplifies the role of small-town librarians and amateur historians in keeping local legends and histories alive amid the rugged landscapes of Southern California.