The Three Sister’s Cottage

In 1870, there was a small group of permanent settlers living at Fort Dallas (modern day downtown Miami). Wealth in 1870s Miami didn’t come from money – it came from ship salvaging. Salvaging shipwrecks was such a lucrative business that it bordered on piracy. This was the moral line that the people of Fort Dallas faced on the infamous day the Three Sisters wrecked on October 21, 1870. A large ship struck a sandbar near Virginia Key. Dr. J. V. Harris had first spotted this wreck, and with two neighbors, Harrison Drew and Luke Nicholson, departed to see what they could find. Not wanting to leave such a treasure behind and to protect their claim, Harris stayed on board while Drew and Nicholson returned to shore to gather supplies. Much to all three men’s horror, a storm had rolled in, blocking Harris’s rescue from the abandoned ship. Four days later, the storm had subsided. Against all odds, Harris survived the storm and remained undeterred to claim his treasure. The milled lumber on board was the greatest prize of all. The salvaging of the Three Sisters was a broad, community effort.  

It’s possible the salvagers believed their isolation would allow them to get away with the wrongdoing. The farce ended in December when Assistant US Marshal William Allen arrived with a court order. The courts ordered that the lumber be returned to the courthouse, and the parties involved needed to prove why they should not be held liable for restitution. In his search, Allen found 95,000 feet of lumber out of an alleged 125,000 feet. All but one man was charged with fraud and misconduct. It is said that only three men were incarcerated, including William Wagner. Wagner said that “two months of grits, black strap called syrup and dirty water called coffee” was enough for him and that he wouldn’t touch another wreck again (Moore Parks The Wreck of The Three Sisters). 

However, there was a house made from the shipwrecked white pine that survived in secret. Ralph Munroe describes its journey to its final resting place here at The Barnacle. 

“It seemed to having a roving disposition, for it was taken apart and moved to Bamboo Key and several other locations before settling in the rear of my house, where its timbers are still good.” (R.M. Munroe, The Commodores Story) 

Over time, it fell into disrepair until its final demise sometime after Ralph’s passing in 1933. This structure in front of you is an homage to the persistence of these early settlers.