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In September of 1928, a massively overweight New York gangster named Jamie Clark came to  Lunenburg to buy a schooner to smuggle illegal booze. The ship, called I’m Alone, would soon become the most well-known rum-running ship during Prohibition, and was at the heart of an international incident that shocked the world..

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The fine wooden schooner was 125 feet long, 27 feet wide, and powered by twin 200 horsepower diesel engines. She was for sale for the very reasonable price of $18,000 (around $300,000 today).

Jamie set up a fake Canadian corporation called the Eastern Seaboard Steamship Agencies Ltd because, as a Canadian ship, the I’m Alone would not be subject to American liquor laws as long as she stayed one hour’s sailing distance off of the American coast.

Needing a captain for his new ship, he found Thomas Randall, a tall, dark, and handsome 

Newfoundland sea captain nearing 50, whose famously strong independent streak was only surpassed by his more famous swaggering sense of style. Even out at sea, Randall would dress exquisitely in silk dress shirts, dinner jackets, tail coats, and top hats.

He was a bona fide war hero, accumulating medals from Canada, Britain and France alike for his swashbuckling naval battles against German U-Boats in the First World War. 

Randall found the local rum runners too unprofessional for his taste. The Maritimes’ greatest gang was New Brunswick’s Madawaska Mob led by Joe Walnut, were perhaps less than subtle, openly getting into several high profile legal battles with governments – and winning.

The New Yorker, on the other hand, was a professional who offered Randall a percentage of profits and maximum legal protections for his crew.

Randall signed on and sailed the I’m Alone to St. Pierre, the French island off the coast of Newfoundland to load up on rum.

He then sailed to an established meeting place off the coast of Louisiana. 

On the way he was pursued by an American coast guard vessel, but managed to escape in the fog. 

At the appointed hour, waiting off of the Louisiana coast, the I’m Alone stopped. Out of the inky darkness a mysterious motorboat approached and cut its engine, waiting.

Randall pulled out a stack of 15 dollar bills, all cut in two, which he had been given in St. Pierre. He counted the bills until he reached the 8th one.

He shouted out the bill’s serial number to the waiting motor boat.

The motor boat pulled alongside the I’m Alone. A fat man handed Randall the other half of the dollar bill whose number he had read off.

It was Jamie Clark, who was personally overseeing the first transaction. 

The belligerent Newfoundlander Randall was so furious at being supervised that he nearly quit on the spot.

After the I’m Alone departed, Jamie drove the motorboat full of liquor towards shore when a coast guard cutter appeared out of the darkness.

Jamie gunned the engine and ran the motorboat right up onto the shore. He cut the fuel line and sprayed gasoline all over the alcohol. He then hopped out, and lit a match…

Jamie never told Randall what happened to that first load of booze. 

However, it began a very lucrative partnership, though not a very long lived one…

On March 20th, 1929 the I’m Alone was off the coast of Louisiana with 28,000 bottles of whiskey from Belize. At 5am, a coast guard cutter named Walcott pulled up alongside and ordered her to “heave to”.

Through a megaphone Randall called back “You have no jurisdiction over me, I am on the high seas outside of treaty waters.”

“Can I come aboard the I’m Alone and talk to the Captain?” called back the Walcott’s captain.

“Yes, if you come unarmed,” replied Randall.

The two captains argued for hours whether they were 11 miles offshore in American waters or 15 miles offshore in international waters.

Getting nowhere, the Captain of the Walcott went back to his ship. At 2 that afternoon, he shouted:

“Heave to, or I fire.”

“I’ll see you in hell first!” Randall shouted back. 

A machine gun on the Walcott fired, and Randall was shot.

He looked down expecting to see blood, but instead saw a large ball of wax. Rather than firing bullets, the coast guard was firing wax rounds used at the time by police during riots.

Randall noticed that the machine gun which had shot him had jammed, and promptly ordered the I’m Alone to race at full throttle towards Mexico.

The now weaponless Walcott gave pursuit, matching the I’m Alone’s speed. For the rest of the day, all through the night, and throughout the next day the two ships raced alongside each other, the two sea captains shouting insults and obscenities at each other through their megaphones.

At 7:30pm on the second day, when the two ships were only 18 miles from Mexico, another coast guard cutter called the Dexter appeared.

Dexter ordered I’m Alone to stop, and Randall indicated his refusal with some particularly colorful Newfoundland vocabulary.

Dexter opened fire, putting about 90 bullets –real ones– into the I’m Alone. 

With water streaming in, Randall ordered his crew to abandon ship. 

The coast guard picked up Randall and the sailors and brought them to New Orleans where they were held without informing the Canadian embassy.

The Canadian Ambassador to the United States, Vincent Massey, caught wind of this, and ignited a massive firestorm of outrage across Canada.

The Canadian government was furious at the blatant violation of its citizens’ rights in international waters and newspapers devoted pages of ongoing, daily coverage of the incident.

The British government and its public was also outraged, with the Canadian Press reporting “in London streets, restaurants and clubs, The I’m Alone’s adventures form the principal topic of conversation.”

France, who had awarded Captain Randall the Croix de Guerre medal for his heroic wartime rescue of the crew of a sinking French warship while under fire by German U-Boats, was also furious. Hundreds demonstrated outside of the American Embassy in Paris.

Canadian newspapers devoted multiple pages of ongoing, daily coverage of the incident.

The Canadian public was so furious that certain sections of the public and media even began suggesting going to war with the United States over the incident.

The violation of the Canadians’ rights had actually been a strange mistake. 

However, when the truth came out about what had happened it only further outraged the Canadian public.

The Americans had not recognized the Canadian flag flying above the I’m Alone. They mistook the Canadian flag for the flag of British Honduras. 

While Canadian opinion understood it as a violation of international law that the crew was imprisoned without informing the Canadian Embassy, the Americans had been trying to communicate with the very bewildered Honduran Embassy.

In the face of a deteriorating international situation, and shocked at the scale of outrage in Canada, the Americans released Randall and the crew, while the two governments tried to sort out some kind of compromise.

Two judges, one Canadian and one American, were appointed to investigate what happened. 

For six long years the two judges’ public inquiry dragged on, dominating newspaper headlines. 

In the end, the United States had to formally apologize to Canada, as well as pay a substantial settlement to the captain and crew of the I’m Alone, totaling $26,666.50 (about $550,000 in today’s money).