LaTasse Sailing

Southern Lake Michigan

2012-01-19T08:53:00.000-08:00

Southern Lake Michigan - 2011

William T Boehm

January 2012

It was hot, more than 95 degrees, and very humid. The city of Chicago beckoned, but it was too darn hot. Maybe tomorrow we’ll explore. Deb was below in the air conditioned cabin of La Tasse, our Island Packet 380. I assumed she was reading. She typically is. Earlier that day, we had taken our bikes along the harbor shoreline and up into Grant Park. But it was just too hot and humid to make a day of it.

But, hey, we were in Chicago, Monroe Harbor, at the Columbia Yacht Club dock. We were on a boat, our boat. We were fulfilling a dream. Not even the heat could change that.

We’d been aboard La Tasse just over a month, having crossed Lake Michigan on June 17^th from Manitowoc, our home port, to Ludington, Mi. The trip south with stops at White Lake and at seven of Michigan’s “beach harbors,” had gone smoothly. We’d seen lots of boats and tourists. St Joe and even Michigan City were pleasant surprises Not as I remembered them… I assumed we’d have more pleasant surprises as we headed north. At least I hoped we would.

But today, we were aboard our boat and in Chicago, one of the world’s great waterfront cities. Today was a day for thinking, for daydreaming….

I looked out over the harbor and at Chicago’s skyscrapers and thought about the millions of people who now live and work in the region. One hundred and seventy five years ago, a nano second in historical perspective, this place was hardly a village. Southern Lake Michigan, and particularly this southwestern end, had become a world class population center in a relatively short time. Why did that happen, I wondered? Certainly there were other lake port possibilities. Why here? Was it the Chicago River, Lake Michigan, or the people who came here? Or, was it just fate?

It’s why we do this, I thought. It’s why we cruise. Most of the people who visit or even live in this city, don’t know why it’s here; don’t understand its history. Sadly, that’s true for the entire Great Lakes region. Too few really appreciate the varied roles played by these great lak

es. Cruising allows us to retrace the steps of those who used these Great Lakes first, the Native Americans. We can retrace their steps and understand better how they were eventually pushed away by the immigrant Europeans who then largely built, for better or worse, what’s here today. For us, cruising filters out the crush of commerce. It helps us think seriously about the successes and the mistakes; about what we must now do to protect and preserve the true essence of life in this still beautiful spot on earth.

Yes, today was a day for thinking, for daydreaming…

Michigan’s Riviera

The 55 nautical mile (nm) trip across Lake Michigan on June 17^th started uneventfully. Early morning haze, the weather forecaster said, would be followed by clearing skies and a light northwesterly breeze. Perfect for the west to east trip, I thought! Two hours into the crossing, about 13 miles out, we were encased in fog, thick fog. We’ve not had a lot of experience with fog so the conditions were a bit unsettling. We used the radar screen almost exclusively, switching back every 15 minutes or so to check our course. We were traveling along the ferry route. I’d previously calculated that we’d meet the 410' Badger at mid-lake, at about 10 am. Finally, she appeared on our radar screen, about 5 nm off the port bow. Traveling at 12 knots and adding our 6, she’d be abeam in about 20 minutes. That was less time than I had hoped for. I hailed the vessel and, thankfully, got an immediate response from the helmsman. “We’ve been following you on our radar for the last half hour,” he said. We agreed to stay out of each other’s way! Still unseen, she blew her horn as she passed to port, about a mile away.

An hour later, the skies began to clear, the sun burned off the fog and the promised northwesterly breeze arrived. Life was good again.

We docked in Ludington about 4:30 local time. The trip across had taken the now predictable 8 ½ hours dock to dock. We showered, enjoyed a bottle of champagne and then went to dinner. The bubbly wasn't only meant to christen our journey; we were also celebrating our 39^th wedding anniversary.

The trip south from Ludington to New Buffalo would be “busy.” These are after all Michigan’s beach harbors, Michigan’s Riviera! In the late 1980s we’d visited several of these ports aboard All That Jazz, an O’Day 34 owned by friends from Cincinnati. We knew what to expect. Tourists flock to these beautiful harbors from all over the Midwest. As well they should. Lake Michigan’s waters are warmer here than in the north. And, with few exceptions the river harbors and inland lakes offer some protection when Lake Michigan kicks up her heels.

The Early Days

Tourists have been a mainstay along this coast since the early part of the 20^th century. The invention of the steam engine and then the automobile made it relatively easy for short visits from Chicago, Milwaukee and Detroit. But long before the tourists, the fur traders and lumber barons came to this coast in search of riches. The French explorers were here in the 1670s. Father Marquette died near present day Ludington on his return trip from the Mississippi in 1675. LaSalle was at the mouth of the St. Joseph River in 1669. Shortly after, the French fur traders arrived. Most came by boat from their base on Mackinac Island in the Straits.

Madeline La Framboise was one of them. She was born in February 1781 on Mackinac Island after her parents were removed from the area of St Joseph, MI by the British (They “won” the French and Indian War, you recall. It ended in 1763). Her father was a French fur trader who had worked the west coast of Michigan’s Lower Peninsula in the mid-1700s. La Framboise was raised in an Ojibwa village at the mouth of the Grand River, near present day Grand Haven. She married Joseph La Framboise, a French fur trader, in 1794. Together they owned and operated a number of trading posts in western Michigan. When her husband was murdered in 1806, she carried on alone earning $5,000-$10,000 a year at a time when $1,000 was considered a handsome sum for an experienced fur trader. Eventually though, she caved to John Jacob Astor’s American Fur Company, sold her business in 1818 and returned to a stately home on Mackinac Island. She dedicated the remainder of her life to education establishing the first school for Native American children on Mackinac Island. Madeline La Framboise eventually donated the property next to her home for the present day site of St Anne’s Church. Appropriately, Madeline is buried beneath the altar.

When fur trading ended along this coast, the lumber barons took over. But not, of course, until they evicted the Native Americans, including the heirs of Madeline La Framboise. The 1821 Treaty of Chicago took care of that little detail. That treaty, completion of the Erie Canal in 1825 and transportation provided by the Great Lakes schooner cleared the way for European immigrant settlers to populate the area. Michigan became a state in 1837, some twenty years after Indiana her neighbor to the south.

William Montague Ferry was one of the earliest permanent residents along this coast. He was an east coast educated Presbyterian minister with “operations” on Mackinac Island. In 1834, he and a traveling companion transited Michigan’s Lower Peninsula from Detroit following the Grand River to its Lake Michigan terminus where he platted a town (now Grand Haven). I suspect he even stopped at a fur trading post or two along the way; posts that had been established years earlier by Madeline la Framboise and her husband. Ferry returned to the area with his family and sixteen other homesteaders in November 1834 aboard the schooner Supply becoming Grand Haven’s first permanent residents. The western Michigan cities of Ferrysburg, Ferry, Whitehall and Montague are all named for him or members of his family. Ferry died in 1867 a very wealthy man. It wasn’t the Sunday collections or his sermons that made him rich. Lumber was his game.

The lumber era along this coast (roughly 1850-1900) brought major changes to the landscape. Saw mills lined the shorelines of the lakes and rivers adjacent to Lake Michigan. All winter long, the loggers worked to harvest Michigan’s virgin white pine. Some towered 200 feet in the air and had trunk diameters of 6-8’! From 1870-1880, Michigan led the nation in lumber production. For a couple of decades, the forests of the Great Lakes accounted for more than one-third of the lumber produced in the nation. Sustainability was a foreign concept. If anyone was thinking about resource management, it wasn’t obvious in the result. Thousands of acres were reduced to stumps and piles of brush. The discarded branches dried and became fuel for the fires that raged during those years. The Peshtigo, WI (about 60 miles northeast of Green Bay) fire killed 1,200 people and burned 1 million acres on the same October 1891 day that Chicago burned. The Peshtigo fire remains the greatest fire tragedy in U.S. history.

That same day another fire broke out along the western shore of Michigan’s Lower Peninsula destroying the coastal towns of Holland and Manistee. That fire didn’t stop until it reached Lake Huron, about 150 miles to the east! Two hundred Michiganders lost their lives in that fire. Another 15,000 lost their homes.

Lumbering continued along this coast until the trees were gone. By 1900, forty million acres in Michigan, Minnesota and Wisconsin had been stripped clean.

Farmers, generally speaking, were brought in to clean up the mess.

The Harbor towns

We visited ten ports along Michigan's southwestern coast on this trip. All were on navigable rivers or lakes adjacent to Lake Michigan. No artificial man made harbors here! The wide beaches and nearby dunes are covered with soft, white sand. The lake breezes cool the air. And, the harbors face mostly west providing incredible sunsets over the expanse of Lake Michigan. And no, I’m not being paid by the Michigan Chamber of Commerce and Tourism!

We didn’t really notice the tourists or the pleasure boaters until we reached Grand Haven. White Lake was laid back, even remote. Muskegon was more crowded, particularly along the beach, but we were at a marina some miles from either town or the beach. That wasn’t the case in Grand Haven. When we arrived on June 26^th, a warm sunny Sunday, there were boats and boaters everywhere. The shoreline was crowded with tourists, most were watching the boats. We smiled and waved keeping a watchful eye on our new and floating“neighbors.”

Cities everywhere seek to attract and entertain tourists. For some, like Munising, in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, it’s a simple matter of using what God provides. In their case, it’s the Pictured Rocks coastline. Niagra Falls might be another example. But, for most, it takes a little creativity and lots of work. There are events to plan, finance and promote. Roads, hotels and restaurants must be built and staffed. Most then look to create something unique, something that will make them special and remembered.

One of the more unusual efforts is to be found in Grand Haven, MI. The Grand Haven Musical Fountain is located on the north shore of Grand River and directly across from the city marina and downtown. Each day at dusk from Memorial Day to Labor Day, viewers are treated to a roughly half-hour show featuring an incredible display of synchronized music, water and colored lights. Every show is different. The thing is huge! Built by volunteers in 1962 at a cost of $250,000, it was then the largest musical fountain in the world. Fifty years later, its original nozzles and pumps remain intact. Its 200 lights in five different colors accent a water spray that’s 240’ wide and 125’ high. I’m not entirely convinced that the Musical Fountain is the foundation for the tourist trade in Grand Haven but I am sure that most people enjoy it. We sure did!

Up the lake a bit (yes, when upbound on Lake Michigan you’re headed south. But then, once again, I digress….), Saugatuck took an entirely different approach. In the 1880s after the lumber men were finished, the port began a natural transition to tourism. In 1910, a group of Chicago artists established a Summer School of Painting and a huge dance and concert hall was built on the water front. Big Pavilion was a popular Lake Michigan destination until it burned in 1960. Those flames, however, did not destroy the seeds planted in the 1900s. Today, the area reins as “Michigan’s Art coast” and has an affiliation with the Art Institute of Chicago. Rounding out its uniqueness, it’s a popular destination for the gay community as well. Deb explained that when I asked about the rainbow burgees in the marina. I’m forever grateful for her insight.

The roughly 2nm trip up the Kalamazoo River to Saugatuck and Douglas is one of the most beautiful on the Great Lakes, particularly when its quiet and not congested. Finding such conditions is, however, the hard part.

We happened to be in the harbor over the July 4^th holiday. The streets and shops of Saugatuck were crowded. The restaurants were packed. We made the right call by docking at Tower Marine in Douglas, across Kalamazoo Lake.

Holland and Saugatuck provided a rare opportunity for us to share our cruising adventures with family. Sister Julie and brother-in-law Lee Zebro have sailed with us for a portion of the summer for years. We were glad to have them aboard again this year. Seldom though, are we able to share these special times with our sons and their wives. This year, son Andrew, wife Emily and pooch Boomer joined us July 1-4. What fun. After finally docking at Tower Marine on July 2 (Yes, we went aground in the marina fairway. We only draw 4' 7" for goodness sake. Boomer learned a few new words that morning.), we lowered Stanley from her davits. That inflatable got the work-out of her life. If you press hard enough, Andrew might even tell you that he learned something about shear pins! Sleeping six and a dog aboard LaTasse was crowded but very workable. Thanks, Andrew and Emily, for making the long drive from Columbus.

The roughly 40nm stretch from Saugatuck to New Buffalo was familiar. We first visited these ports with our Cincinnati friends Barb and Bob Sammis in the early 1990s. The Sammis’ introduced us to life aboard a sailboat; more on them later.

The Lake starts to narrow along this part of the coast as one heads south, southwest. Winds from the north or northwest can create ocean-like rollers in this area. They’ve had 250nm of open water to do their thing!

The big positive surprise on this leg was our time in St Joe. Earlier trips to that harbor were not particularly memorable. I even considered bypassing St Joe this time. But, the crew prevailed and it’s good they did. East of the railroad bridge at the harbor entrance, most of the river is barely navigable by anything but shoal draft power boats. We stopped short of the bridge and headed into West Basin. What a find. The basin is home to the St Joe River Yacht Club and its wonderful restaurant; the people at the marina are friendly and helpful. The marina staff even provides rides to and from St Joe so visiting their tourist friendly downtown was not a problem.

St Joe has its own special connection with early French explorers. Rene-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de LaSalle claims to have discovered the river mouth in about 1669. His men built a stockade and used it as their base for the early explorations of Indiana, Illinois and the Mississippi River. LaSalle is, of course, credited with claiming the mouth of the Mississippi for France in 1682. He also built Le Griffon, the first full-sized sailing vessel on the Great Lakes (she was 30-40’ long and displaced 45 tons). They sailed Le Griffon up Lakes Erie and Huron to Mackinac and then Green Bay in 1679. Loaded with furs, but sans LaSalle, she was lost on the return voyage.

For a time in the early 1830s, St. Joe rivaled Chicago for predominance on southern Lake Michigan. In 1826, she was the first city on Lake Michigan to receive Federal funds to improve her harbor access. Chicago, the second city to receive such badly needed money and technical support, would wait another seven years for its first installment. St Joe and her western rival Chicago would also receive Lake Michigan’s first lighthouses in 1832. Both cities, of course, were destined to flourish during the “golden age of sail” on Lake Michigan, roughly 1835-1880. But, like the Energizer bunny, Chicago just kept going. By 1871, the year of the Chicago fire, Chicago welcomed more ships than New York, San Francisco, Philadelpha, Baltimore, Charleston and Mobile combined! She was one of the greatest ports in the world. St. Joe became an afterthought.

By the time we reached New Buffalo on July 9, the summer heat was in full swing. Weather logs for the prior three summers seldom record a 90 degree day, even on the "lower" lakes Erie and Ontario. Not so in 2011. During the 14 day stretch covering New Buffalo to Belmont Harbor just north of Chicago, we recorded seven days with late afternoon temperatures of 90 degrees or higher. While in Chicago, the heat index was over 100 degrees on several days and the early morning (okay, 8 am) temperatures were never below 80 degrees. We moved north and to the Great Lakes to escape such heat and humidity! Al Gore might actually be on to something with this global warming thing. Privately though, I’m still skeptical about his claims relating to the invention of the internet.

And it wasn’t just the heat. On the Great Lakes, summer heat is often accompanied by rain, strong thunderstorms, strong and gusty winds and, at times, tornados. Nasty, mid-morning thunderstorms were forecast for New Buffalo on July 11. The morning radar confirmed a strong band of storms southwest of Chicago and heading northeast. Local police in New Buffalo walked the docks that morning warning boaters of the forecast. We secured things, double checked the dock lines and headed into town to do some grocery shopping. We were barely inside the store when a good, old fashioned thunderstorm broke loose. It rained. It blew hard. Lightning split the sky. Then, the lights went out. I mean all the lights. The town was dark! Store management gave us a choice; leave the store or head to the basement. Obviously, with no place else to go, we went to the basement. Thirty minutes later it was all over. No harm done. I’ve spent lots of time in grocery store “back rooms.” As “back rooms” go, that one wasn’t bad.

Such storms aren’t all that unusual, of course. But when they come across 40-60 miles of open water, they are impressive and sometimes dangerous. Why some boaters tempt fate by knowingly going out when such conditions are forecast, I’ll never understand. Getting caught is one thing. Not respecting these lakes is quite another. It’s “pleasure boating” Deb constantly reminds me.

Like so many ports on this coast, New Buffalo’s harbor is created by a river, the Galien River in this case. This beautiful sliver of water meanders for miles north and east of the city. What a great place for a dinghy trip. Within minutes, the tourists and traffic are replaced by waterfowl, deer and dragon flies. Remote trips like this have always been favorites of ours. Over the years Deb and I have explored dozens of rivers with our inflatable. But, truth be known, I’m a bit of a wuss. What if the motor stops when you’re 5 miles upriver? Some would say there’s a bit too much of my father Hubert in my blood. I suspect my own apprehensions about such things help explain my admiration for the true explorers. Each, in their own way, have the courage to explore uncharted regions without a knot in their stomach. At least it seems so…

Breaking Away

Spending those days in New Buffalo created a flood of very good memories for me. My first experience on a sailboat was in that harbor. I will never forget that first time behind the wheel with all sail set. It happened just outside the New Buffalo breakwall. It was 1989. I’ve told the story dozens of times. Once more can’t hurt.

Deb and I are farm kids. We both grew up on dairy farms in Wisconsin. Neither family had a boat, not even a row boat for fishing. We learned to swim, of course. At least I did. Deb was given the opportunity to learn but when the instructor literally “threw her in the lake,” she vowed no more. Boats and water were not really part of our early years.

We met Barb and Bob Sammis shortly after moving to Cincinnati in the summer of 1981. Bob’s family owned a business that made and sold life preservers, among other things. In 1987, they fulfilled a dream. They bought a 34’ O’Day sloop, named her All That Jazz and put her in a slip in the New Buffalo harbor. We were invited to join them for a weekend aboard the boat that next summer. We found a way to politely decline. Thankfully, they persisted and asked us again the next summer. I recall telling Deb at the time that we should go. Barb and Bob were, after all, good friends. How bad could this be? We could just “suck it up” for a weekend.

Suck it up, we did!

That next summer we were aboard Breakaway, our very own 1984 Catalina 27. Brookville Lake (Indiana) proved to be a great place to learn. The reservoir is about 15 miles long, split roughly in half by a fixed bridge with about 10’ of vertical clearance. The lake is, at most, a half mile wide. The winds are fickle. We tacked often as we sailed to the bridge and back more than 100 times over the next eight seasons. We’ve never looked back.

Sailing changed our lives and gave us a much more complete marriage. It gave us both an escape from the pressures of building careers and raising a family. It gave us a retirement dream we could share, a loving respect for Mother Nature and an insatiable appetite for America’s Great Lakes.

To the surprise of many of our friends, we moved north, to the Wisconsin coast and the Great Lakes, when I retired in 2008. We bought La Tasse and began spending summers aboard, exploring and learning.

Thank you, Barb and Bob Sammis.

Lake Michigan’s South Shore

Julie and Lee left us in New Buffalo, taking the train back to Milwaukee via Chicago. We were on our own again. As much as we enjoy the company, we do savor our time together; just the two of us and LaTasse. We began to look forward to Chicago and ports north. But first, we set out to explore Michigan City, IN.

It’s a short 8nm from New Buffalo to Michigan City, IN, SSW. July 13^th was a mostly sunny day with a light northerly breeze. Waves on the lake were 3-5’, reflecting the fact that the wind had been blowing from the north for two days. After clearing the roughed up waters just off the New Buffalo breakwall, we hoisted the jib and motor-sailed making good time with a following sea.

In 1818, the Hercules wrecked with all hands lost along this portion of the coast. It’s an unusual story. Hercules, an Army supply ship, was the first decked vessel to operate on a regular basis west of the Straits of Mackinac. She left Chicago on October 2, 1818 carrying a cargo of whiskey (less bulk than the grain, I guess!) and headed for Detroit. She floundered in a storm. The bodies of her crew of five and one passenger, a Lt. William S. Eveleth, washed ashore near here and were buried by the Native Americans who, presumably, also found and claimed some of the cargo. That part of the story is well documented. Less well known, for the next twenty years, John Farmer, the Detroit-based cartographer, included a notation on his maps of southwestern Michigan marking “Lieut. Evileth’s (sic) Grave.” To this day, no one is quite sure why he did that.

The feel of this trip changed for me as we headed into the Michigan City channel and Trail Creek. Despite her “play land” sand dunes, Michigan City is at the eastern end of the industrial head of Lake Michigan. The smokestacks of Gary and Burns International Harbor were visible even in the haze. That industrial feel would continue for the next two weeks, until we were north of Milwaukee, WI.

Chicago

We love Chicago. For many it’s America’s only livable big city. Her downtown harbors extend for 8nm from Burnham Harbor on the south to Montrose on the north. No other large city on the Great Lakes affords boaters with such easy access to the center-city. Chicago may not be cheap, we paid $3 per foot, but she is easy!

We left Michigan City, IN at 7:30 am on Sunday July 17^th. The sun was shining, it was in the low 70s and the wind was SSW about 10 knots. The 35nm trip would take us about six hours. We had hoped for a clear day as Chicago’s skyline is visible from Michigan City on most days. But, that was not to be. As the temperature and humidity rose, the haze thickened. We didn’t see Chicago’s skyline until we were just 7nm out.

Monroe Harbor was busy. Lots of boaters were taking advantage of the warm mid-summer day. Besides, they had just gotten their harbor “back.” The Chicago to Mackinac sailboat race was underway, starting from this harbor as it has since 1898. In 2011, 361 boats started the 290nm race just days before we arrived. Tragically, and for the first time ever, the race suffered weather-induced deaths. Two sailors from Saginaw, MI were lost when their boat, WingNuts, capsized in a nighttime thunderstorm on July 18. Thankfully, six crew members were rescued by a competing boat. A subsequent review of the incident by U.S. Sailing concluded that the boat’s unconventional design made it “unsuitable for sailing in an offshore distance race on Lake Michigan.” It was another reminder that these are, in fact, Inland Seas; that ship wrecks and death on the water aren’t just history.

Chicago was all around us; The Columbia Yacht Club (CYC), Lake Shore Drive, Grant Park, the Buckingham Fountain and, of course the skyscrapers. We took a spot along the pier at the CYC.

The CYC clubhouse is actually a retired ferry. The MV Abegweit was first launched in 1946 in Quebec, Canada. She’s 372 feet long and displaces 7,000 tons. In her “hay day,” she carried as many as 950 passengers and 60 cars (or 16 railcars) across the Northumberland Strait (in the mouth of the St Lawrence River) between Port Borden on Prince Edward Island and Cape Tormentine, New Brunswick. While ferries still operate in the Strait, a roughly 6 ½ nm bridge, which opened in 1997, has significantly reduced the need for water transport in the area. The MV Abegweit, or MV Abby for the purists among you, has been at CYC since 1983. Unlike Deb and me, she at least moved south to retire.

For her size, Chicago is a “young” city. Her recorded history dates to the late 17^th century with the arrival of the French explorers, fur traders and missionaries. But the city wasn’t “founded” until the 1830s, long after Cincinnati had become America’s first major inland city.

The early attention was on the Chicago River and the relatively short overland portage to the Illinois and Mississippi Rivers. But Indian unrest in the area had discouraged the Europeans from settling there for forty years. Fort Dearborn wasn’t built on the Chicago River until 1803, for example. Then, it was destroyed by the British in the War of 1812 and not rebuilt until 1818. The Treaty of 1831 and subsequent skirmish with Black Hawk in 1833 basically took care of the Native Americans. The town of Chicago was incorporated on August 12, 1833. The population totaled 350 souls. Cincinnati’s population, by contrast, was about 30,000 in 1833.

The Illinois and Michigan Canal

The short portage to the Mississippi created an opportunity for commerce; a way to get products, particularly lumber, from the Midwest to America’s wood-starved but fast developing Plain states. Wheat rounded out the return trip. Recall that the Erie Canal began operations in 1825 allowing relatively easy water transport to and from the Great Lakes and America’s east coast. The potential at Chicago was clear to most. Still, the city languished until a grant from the Federal Government in 1833, allowed development of an improved harbor entrance to the Chicago River. Over the next seven years over $100,000 would be invested in that project by tax payers in the east. In 1836, with the harbor issue settled, construction on the 96 mile Illinois and Michigan canal from Bridgeport to La Salle commenced. It would cost over $6 million and claim an unknown number of Irish immigrant lives. It wouldn’t be completed until 1848. By then, the railroads were making canal transport largely irrelevant.

That canal, and its sister, the Chicago Sanitary and Ship Canal, sparked a controversy that continues even today.

Chicago grew rapidly after the fire of 1871. Much of the development occurred along the Chicago River as it was an easy way to dispose of the human, animal and industrial waste generated by an ever concentrating population. By 1885, the Chicago River was a nasty sewer. That wasn't really a problem since the waste was carried away into the harbor and eventually the vast expanse of Lake Michigan. Oops, the good citizens eventually realized, that’s where our drinking water comes from. (Still does, by the way.) Not a problem said these ingenious people; we’ll just change the river’s direction of flow. We’ll cause the water to flow from Lake Michigan and to the Illinois and Mississippi River taking with it Chicago’s waste. By 1892, the job was done. They fooled Mother Nature. And, that’s not nice.

The canal has had its unintended consequences. It now provides invasive species, like the Asian Carp, direct access to the Great Lakes from the Gulf of Mexico. The Army Corps of Engineers has recently erected electrified barriers to keep the carp from entering Lake Michigan. The fear is that they will destroy the now lucrative recreational fishing industry on the Great Lakes. Tragically, the zebra mussel, another invasive species brought to the Lakes years ago by ocean freighters transiting the Welland Canal, may already have that job well in hand. The little critters, billions of them, have helped to clarify the Great Lakes waters but they’re also adding to the already burdensome phosphorus load in the Lakes and depleting the micro-biological food supply that is needed to support the fingerlings and other small fish. Without small fish, there can’t be large fish.

The phosphorus problem is well recognized but largely ignored. The Wisconsin legislature recently passed a bill that restricted the use of phosphorus for some purposes. Farmers, the largest single user of phosphorus, were exempted. Worse yet, the 2011 Legislature then gutted the portion of the bill that would have required modernization of community sewage systems. Yes, we still knowingly tolerate the discharge of sewage and industrial waste into our Lakes and streams. We spend billions on political campaigns but can’t find the money to upgrade our badly worn and outdated municipal sewage and water treatment facilities. In many ways, we’re worse than the early Chicagoans. We should know better. We should learn from history.

The SS Eastland

The Chicago River architectural tour is a “must do.” We’ve been to and through Chicago many times over the past forty years and never paid much attention to the design or history of the downtown buildings. On this trip, joined by our dear friends Cindy and Paul Blasé (St Louis) and Karen and Larry Turner (Austin, TX), we took the roughly three hour tour and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The tour guides were great, provided wonderful historical perspective and helped us see the skyscrapers as never before. Along the way, between Clark and La Salle Street and on the south bank, the tour guide casually pointed to a marker on shore. I doubt many on the tour boat even paid attention. Fewer still, I suspect, realized that they were passing the site of the largest loss of life disaster on the Great Lakes, ever!

The SS Eastland was commissioned in 1902 by the Michigan Steamship company and launched as a passenger ship in 1903. She was big, 265’ long and almost 2,000 tons gross weight. She carried over 2,500 passengers on her many trips.

From the beginning, the Eastland was prone to listing. She was top heavy; her center of gravity was too high.

On July 24, 1915, the Eastland and two other passenger steamers were in Chicago, chartered to take employees of the Western Electric Company to a picnic in Michigan City, IN. Passengers began boarding the Eastland about 6:30 am. By 7:10 am the ship reached her capacity of 2,572. It promised to be a beautiful summer day. Accounts vary but at approximately 7:30 am, passengers on the upper deck rushed to the port side, perhaps to get a better view of the city. The Eastland lurched sharply to port and then rolled completely on her side. Eight hundred and forty four died that day. Many were women and children.

No one was ever found guilty of a crime in that disaster. Accidents happen I guess. Not!

Headed North

We left Chicago’s Monroe harbor on Saturday morning July 23. On the way, we passed the Chicago light. That majestic light has been at this location since 1919. Originally constructed for the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition, she featured, for nearly century, a stunning Third Order Fresnel lens that was meant for the lighthouse at Point Loma, California. The Chicago light was automated in 1979. The lens was eventually removed and is now “home” and on display at Cabrillo National Monument at Point Loma. (Cabrillo, a Portuguese explorer, landed at San Diego Bay in September 1542. Tell me more about how the east coast British colonies “built” America.)

Our trip that overcast morning was a short 6nm north to Belmont Harbor. We were going to a Cubs game, to Wrigley Field! The ballpark, according to our cruising guide, was a “leisurely 15-minute stroll down Addison.” Yah, right! First, you’ve got to get from the harbor and across busy Lake Shore Drive, a task complicated on that morning because the pedestrian underpass was closed due to flooding. It had rained 6 ½ inches at O’Hare overnight. We took a cab to Wrigley field. The Cubs beat the Astros 5-3. It was one of just 71 wins for the Cubs in 2011. In thier Division, only the Astros were worse.

Belmont Harbor was a disappointment. The docks, harbor entrance and fairways were fine. The boathouse facilities were terrible and a very long way from the docks. Lake Shore Drive effectively isolates boaters from everything in the area unless you have a car. It’s not a place for transient boaters. Not at $3 per foot.

Our return trip to Waukegan, IL began on July 25^th. That day helps make my point about the unpredictably of the weather, particularly the wind. The day started peaceful enough. The sky was overcast with a light breeze out of the NW. The barometer at 30.03 had not changed materially in two days. The forecast had called for mostly overcast conditions and a 10 knot breeze from the NE with late-day clearing skies. Shortly after leaving the harbor, the wind piped up to about 18 knots from the N. We were headed NNW. Waves on the lake were 4’-6’ and confused. I took the helm and bore off to the NNE, tacking back every 15 minutes or so. We made just 10nm in the first 2 ½ hours. But then, as the water got deeper and we moved away from Lake Michigan’s relatively narrow south end, thing calmed down. The waves subsided as the wind lessened and shifted to the earlier-predicted NE. By the time we got to Waukegan, three hours later, the wind was blowing just 5 knots and from the south. Go figure.

The Lady Elgin

This portion of the lake, Belmont to Waukegan, had been on my personal bucket list for years. I wanted to pay my respects to the wreck that recorded the greatest loss of life on the open waters of the Great Lakes. No, it’s not the Edmund Fitzgerald. She lost 29 when she went down in Lake Superior in a November 1975 storm.

The Lady Elgin, a wooden-hulled, side-wheel steamer, rests at approximately N42 12’, W87 44’ in about 50’ of water. Her wreckage lies in three distinct areas and covers a wide expanse of the bottom just east of Highwood, IL. How she got there in September of 1860 is a story that involves civil war politics, maritime blunders and unselfish bravery.

In 1860, Wisconsin was, as now, a hot-bed of political unrest. Sherman Booth, a Wisconsin abolitionist, editor and politician had created quite a stir when in 1854 he led a raid that freed a runaway Missouri slave from a Milwaukee jail. For the next six years the Wisconsin Supreme Court battled with the U.S. Supreme Court over the proper course of action. The U.S. court held that Booth should be arrested and jailed while the Wisconsin court declared that the Fugitive Slave Law, the support for Booth’s arrest, was unconstitutional. Wisconsin was set to secede from the Union over the matter. Today’s fuss over Wisconsin’s Governor Walker, the “weasel,” seems pretty trite in comparison, huh?

What about the Lady Elgin, you ask?

Wisconsin’s Governor at the time was a Republican and a staunch abolitionist. He polled the various military companies in Wisconsin in an attempt to determine if he had the allies needed if the state were to secede. He found a skunk in the woodpile, in Milwaukee’s Third Ward. Democrat Garrett Barry disagreed with the Governor and in fact, was supporting Stephen Douglas, not Abraham Lincoln, for President. At the time, Barry led the Milwaukee Irish Union Guards, a well respected state-supported militia. In March 1860, the Governor disbanded Barry’s Union Guards.

Garrett Barry wasn’t giving up that easily. He sought and received private donations to re-arm his troops. But the effort fell a little short. By August, he was still in debt about $160. He announced a fundraising excursion to Chicago where those in attendance could both visit the city and hear from their man Stephen Douglas. The trip would take place September 6-7. The Lady Elgin had been chartered.

They made it to Chicago, albeit a little later than planned and without the prospect of hearing from Douglas (he was still in Baltimore and on his way to Harrisburg). By all accounts, however, the roughly 350 Milwaukee residents enjoyed their day in Chicago. By 11 pm on September 7, they were back aboard the Lady Elgin and ready to head back to Milwaukee, roughly 100 miles.

Lee Murdock, the Balladeer of the Great Lakes, tells the rest of the story much better than I ever could.

“A thunderstorm at midnight, big seas began to roll.

One hundred miles of water was the noble steamers goal.

But a fatal slash on her portside from a schooner bearing pine

And an eerie silence shrouded all, the dying engines whined.”

The schooner Augusta disengaged and proceeded on her way to Chicago. She had no way of knowing the damage she had done. Over 300 people lost their lives that night. More than 250 were from Milwaukee, most from the Third Ward. Ninety six survived. It was, and still is, the greatest loss of life on the open waters of the Great Lakes.

There are always goats and heroes in such stories. The Augusta ended her days in shame. Her crews never could escape the dark cloud that hung over the ship. Laws were changed; among them the requirement that sailing vessels carry and use running lights. Light houses were constructed. Plaques were awarded, most notably to Edward Spencer, the Northwestern student who rescued 17 people from the wreck over the course of six hours. His response, when approached by those thanking him was simply, “did I do my best?” We need more Edward Spencer’s!

Waukegan to Milwaukee

We had been in Waukegan harbor in the early 1990s. I have fond memories of that trip including a dinner at Mathon’s and drinks at the Waukegan Yacht Club. Sadly, Jack Benny’s home town is not the same. The harbor docks and boater facilities are new and first rate. Beyond that, there’s not much for the transient boater. Downtown is hard to access and apparently not safe. Many of the building on their main street are now shuttered. The area’s large manufacturing employers are mostly gone leaving the area with high unemployment, disappointment and despair. Evidence that this once was an industrial harbor is all around. Waukegan’s harbor has three Superfund sites of hazardous substances on the National Priorities List.

The city has plans for revitalizing the harbor and lakefront. Most of the industrial activity is to be replaced by residential and recreational space. It’s a huge undertaking. It will take years, perhaps decades, to complete.

Further north, in Wisconsin, the revitalization efforts are further along.

After a weather delay in Waukegan, we headed 16 nm north to Kenosha on Friday July 29^th. We had a flat lake and a breeze from the NE that day. We crossed the state line (N42 29.5’) at 9:40 am and were docked at Kenosha’s Southport Marina about an hour later. We were “home” in Wisconsin.

Kenosha (initially Southport), like most of the cities and towns along Lake Michigan’s southwest coast, was settled by immigrant Europeans in the 1830s after the conclusion of the Black Hawk War. In this case, the early settlers came from New York State, looking for a spot on the lakeshore. They settled on the mouth of Pike Creek after failing to find land at either Milwaukee or Racine.

Kenosha and its neighbors to the north, Racine and Milwaukee, were factory towns almost from the start. Wagons, cars, bicycles, farm equipment, etc. were built by the thousands along this coast for about eighty years from roughly 1900-1980. But, unlike Chicago, these cities were left to develop their early harbors without much help from the Federal Government. Despite the obvious financial benefit from the Chicago investment, Democrats in Congress during the late 1830s and 1840s took a strong philosophical view towards limiting the role of the Federal government. A precursor to the Civil War, I suspect. Lincoln, you recall, was a Republican. How times, and political parties, do change!

Much of the manufacturing along this part of the coast, and the jobs that came with it, are now gone. But these are resilient and hard working people. In Kenosha, the lakefront manufacturing plants have been replaced by museums, condominiums, parks, open space and a large, modern marina. Reproductions of the Sheridan LeGrande street lights that were designed for Kenosha by Westinghouse Electric in the late 1920s have been installed on Sixth Avenue. A classic electric street car shuttles residents and tourists from the lakefront to downtown. Festivals and a huge Farmers Market grace the waterfront all summer long.

In Racine, just 9nm north, the redevelopment effort began in the late 1980s. Their waterfront coal piles and oil tanks have been replaced with amenities that cater to the pleasure boater and the tourist. Reefpoint Marina is huge, 900 slips. Spinnakers, a waterfront restaurant and bar, is on-site and typically busy. The walk into the downtown is easy.

Racine’s downtown is dominated by evidence of its primary and long time, employers, S.C. Johnson and J.I. Case. Both have headquarters buildings just a few blocks from the waterfront. S.C. Johnson’s (think household cleaning) HQ building was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. Tradition has it that Wright tried to convince the company’s President to build the structure outside the city limits. Wright, it seems, considered Racine to be “backwater.” Hib Johnson disagreed. The building was built downtown but, in a compromise with Wright, it has no windows!

Racine’s other major corporate citizen, Case I H, is also located downtown. Jerome Increase Case was born in Williamstown, NY in 1819. He learned of Cyrus McCormick’s mechanical “reaper” as a young boy. He moved to Wisconsin in 1843 with a plan to build and sell mechanical wheat thrashing machines. The rest, as they say, is history. After many mergers, buy-outs, acquisitions and sell-offs – Tenneco purchased the firm in the 1970s and then sold it again in the late 1990s – the company headquarters remains in Racine. They manufacture tractors in a plant near the city.

Coastal waters near the Racine harbor are a bit of a challenge. More so, perhaps, than any other Lake Michigan port. Racine Reef is just east of the harbor entrance. The reef extends approximately 1.25 nm west to east, is nearly ¾ mile wide and begins about ½ mile from the harbor entrance. While most pleasure boaters would clear the reefs shoal waters, it’s easy to understand the navigational challenges for commercial vessels at this harbor entrance. Then, to the north, there are Wind Point and its North and South shoals. Both are marked with buoys. And, standing guard is the handsome Wind Point light. The light, standing 108 feet tall and visible for a distance of about 15 nm, was first lit in 1880.

Once clear of Wind Point, the skyline of Milwaukee is seen just off the port bow.

What’s not to like about Milwaukee? The harbor is beautiful, accented by the world famous Santiago Calatrava designed Milwaukee Art Museum. The McKinley marina complex, just north of the downtown has everything including the Milwaukee Yacht Club and Veteran’s Park. The docks are in great shape as are the boaters restroom and shower buildings. The complex breakwall structure protects the harbor and McKinley Marina, in particular, from Lake Michigan swells.

In a reoccurring theme, Milwaukee was settled in the 1830s. True enough, Alexis La Framboise (that name again!) established a trading post at the river mouth about 1785 but he was there only in the winter months. It was left to a trio of Solomon Juneau, Byron Kilbourn and George Walker to set the stage for what would become Milwaukee. Each had established competing settlements along the river in the years following 1818. Juneau was apparently the first. We know, for example, that in 1823, he chartered the schooner Chicago Packet to bring trade goods and carry away his furs. Kilbourn, though, was protective of his turf and a protagonist. By the 1840s the rivalry between the towns was quite intense. By design, even the streets of competing towns that terminated at the river didn’t match. In 1840 the Wisconsin Territorial Legislature (Wisconsin didn’t gain statehood until 1848) ignited a fire by ordering that a bridge be built across the river connecting the towns. The Milwaukee Bridge War of 1845 really happened. Bridges were destroyed and people were injured. Eventually, cooler heads prevailed and in 1846 the three communities were united as the City of Milwaukee. Solomon Juneau was the city’s first mayor.

A great deal has changed since then, of course. Milwaukee today is one of America’s great cities. It’s a melting pot with strong and active German, Polish, Italian, Mexican, African American and numerous other transplant nationalities. The city celebrates its diversity with very well attended ethnic festivals on the lakefront all summer long.

The last time we visited Milwaukee by boat (fall 2009), it was Labor Day. Surprisingly, almost nothing in the city was open. We had not been warned. In the summer of 2011, Milwaukee was open for business! Brady Street, just an easy walk west of the marina, was crowded and fun. Downtown was also easy by cab. We rode bikes to the Art Museum. And, to top it off, we took a cab and spent a day at the Wisconsin State Fair. What a hoot. It had been nearly fifty years since either of us had been to Wisconsin’s State Fair (Deb’s last attendance had been when she was three or four, I’m told). Putting icing on the cake, so to speak, we were entertained daily by an air show that routed planes, large and small, over the marina.

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Author’s note: Earlier when discussing the early settlements along Michigan’s southwest coast, I highlighted the role played by Madeline La Framboise. Now, in Wisconsin and at about the same time, we see that name again. Are they related, you ask? Yes, indeed. Alexis La Framboise was the son of Jean Baptiste La Framboise (1735 – D) who lived on Mackinac Island. His brother, Joseph (1765-1806) married Madeline in 1794. Joseph was killed in 1806 at which time Madeline took over their fur trading business. So, now you know…..
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Headed Home

We left Milwaukee on August 8, a Monday, and headed 20 nm north to Port Washington. At 7 am it was overcast but a comfortable 70 degrees. A 5 knot breeze blew from the NW. So, once again, heading NNW, we motor sailed.

Port Washington is a charmer. It’s one of my favorite ports on Lake Michigan. She’s not the same as she once was. Then, none of us is, I suppose. Old Port was a commercial fishing village for most of her history. The Smith Brothers dominated with their fleet of tugs. Their family had been fishing there since 1896. Their restaurant on the waterfront, with its lighted “fisherman with a sturgeon over the shoulder,” logo had attracted patrons from all over the Midwest for years. That all ended in 2006 when, the restaurant, Port Washington’s last fish shanty, closed and was torn down. A fancy new brick building now stands on that strategic place in the harbor. It’s mostly empty.

The commercial fishing boats are also gone now. They’ve been replaced today by pleasure boaters and a handful of charter fishermen. “And now, looking down from St Mary’s, sailboats and freighters are all that pass by…”

For practical purposes, the December 1998 loss of the Linda-E marked the end of commercial fishing in Port Washington. She was a 42’ Smith Brothers tug. She left the harbor on a nice December day. It was sunny and clear. The waters of Lake Michigan were calm. She and her crew of three were never heard from again. Two years later, in 2000, they found her on the bottom, in 250’ of water. After an investigation of the wreck, the Coast Guard concluded that she’d been rammed, most likely by a barge and without notice. She sunk before anyone sounded an alarm. The collision was never reported.

The tourists and boaters still come to Port Washington, as they should. It’s a great town with a very nice marina. The people there try hard to make visiting an enjoyable experience. But when I’m in Port Washington, I think of her past. With St Mary’s church dominating the downtown and her art-deco lighthouse at the harbor entrance, it’s hard not to think of her storied past.

We headed for Sheboygan on August 10. It was sunny with a 10 knot breeze from the NNW. Yes, we were headed north. Sheboygan was to be our last stop on this trip.

Once on the lake we experienced a much stronger NW wind and rough seas. We altered from our normal practice of staying 2 or so nm off shore and headed in to get shelter from Lake Michigan’s bluff. The maneuver worked like a charm. We were secure in Sheboygan by noon.

Sheboygan has a terrific harbor, one of the nicest along Lake Michigan’s west coast. The docks and boater facilities are relatively new. Downtown Sheboygan with its many great restaurants is an easy walk from the marina. The Sheboygan River is lined with shops, restaurants and docks. They’ve preserved several of their once-used fish shanties so the river walk has a historic feel to it. We thoroughly enjoyed the long dinghy trip up the river. My guess is that we’ll do that again.

Sheboygan works hard to accent their maritime history, and even extend it. The Sheboygan Yacht Club has a wonderful clubhouse and marina (rare for Lake Michigan, we’ve found). The club is an active citizen on the waterfront. Sheboygan is also home to Sail Sheboygan, an organization founded in 2004 to promote national and international sailing competitions in the harbor. In September 2011, for example, they hosted the Nations Cup, a competition involving sailors from 20 different countries.

Just a few miles north of the harbor entrance, one finds the internationally acclaimed Whistling Straits golf complex. Whistling Straits is one of two Kohler golf properties, and four courses, in the area; the other being Black Wolf Run, and home of PGA Championships and other international golf competitions. From the water one can easily distinguish the roughly two miles of coastline occupied by the Straits golf course. It’s a view only the boaters get. I’m not a golfer but this is a beautiful site.

We left Sheboygan on Friday August 12. It was a beautiful day with sunny skies and a 10 knot breeze from the SW. On our last day of the trip, we would not have to fight the wind. We hoisted the jib and slid home with a following sea. We were secure in our Manitowoc Marina slip by noon.

Concluding Thoughts

Visits to these busy and populated ports today complicate an understanding of their past. The pine forests are gone as are the fur bearing beaver, mink and otter. The river entrances have all been “improved” by huge man made breakwall systems. There’s even a lock in Chicago to manage the flow of Lake Michigan’s water out and into the Chicago River. The “manufacturing age” has disfigured the harbors on Lake Michigan’s south and southwest end but each, at its own pace, is making a comeback. And, particularly on the Michigan side, so are the forests. The schooners are gone, of course but huge freighters still transport finished goods and natural resources to and from population centers on the lake. Christmas trees still come to the Chicago harbor even though the Rouse Simmons rests on the bottom in 250’ of water ENE of Two Rivers, WI. Today, the Coast Guard makes that ceremonial delivery.

With a little effort, though, and a watchful eye, it’s still possible to feel the past and hope for the future. For me, the harbor entrance lights and the towers along the way help a great deal. They demonstrate the never ending need for guiding lights both literally and figuratively. GPS be damned, I’m always on the lookout for guiding lights, whether on the water or not..

Lake Michigan remains largely the same. She is still beautiful, big and sometimes dangerous. She’s unpredictable. The fact that WingNuts was of an “unsuitable, unconventional design” does not make her unique in explaining the loss of life on Lake Michigan. The Griffon never made it back to eastern Lake Erie. The Hercules never made it to Detroit with her load of whiskey. The Eastland never made it out of the Chicago River on that warm and sunny summer day. The Lady Elgin left a mark on Milwaukee’s early history because she failed to finish her trip on that stormy night just north of Chicago. We have no way of knowing how many others “failed to reach the shore” or what their contribution might have been. We’re left to cover for their loss. Some would say that all of mans inventions, particularly those designed to "conquer" the planet, have proven to be “unsuitable” in the face of Mother Nature’s fury.

These Great Lakes teach humility. At least they should.

Despite her dangerous side, this beautiful lake continues to serve. She was a better alternative than the overland routes for the Native Americans and then for the European immigrants who settled here in the 1800s. That’s still the case today, particularly for things like coal, iron ore, calcite and cement. I never tire of watching the big freighters ply these waters. She supplies clean drinking water for those who live along her shores as she has done for thousands of years. And, she is a play land, as she always has been. The number of people she serves has increased dramatically over the years but her role remains a constant. She is uplifting and, like life, different every single day.

“But no words can compare with the spray in the air

The wind in the rigging, the rush of the tide

The song of the sea can only be heard

By casting your cares to the water”

Great Lakes Charts & Context

2010-12-11T10:00:00.000-08:00

GREAT LAKES CHARTS AND CONTEXT
William T Boehm
December 2010

The Great Lakes are the "Inland Seas" of North America. These five large fresh water lakes cover about 850 miles from Duluth, MN to Kingston, Ontario and nearly the same from Rossport, Ontario to Cleveland, OH. That's an area of 720,000 square miles!

The lakes are connected by rivers (The St Mary's, The St Clair, the Detroit, and the Niagara), the Straits of Mackinac and Lake St Clair. Their waters flow to the sea via the St Lawrence River. Along the way, they drop 600 feet in elevation. For centuries, these "great" lakes have provided the opportunity for communication and commerce among widely dispersed and diverse people. They are truly a gift from God.

LAKE SUPERIOR

Lake Superior is the grand-daddy of the Great Lakes. She's sometimes known as "Gitchee Gumee," a reference to her early Native American name. Many know her through Gordon Lightfoot's song about the loss of the freighter Edmund Fitzgerald.

Lake Superior is big, 350 miles long and 160 miles across. Her average depth is nearly 500 feet. Her maximum depth is 1,333 feet! Lake Superior has the largest surface area of any fresh water lake on earth, almost 32,000 square miles. She looks like a wolf's head with Isle Royale (itself 15 miles long and more than 7 miles wide) forming the "eye" and the Keeweenaw Peninsula (about 70 miles long) forming the "mouth."

Superior's cold waters which average about 45 degrees on the surface lead to the lower lakes through Whitefish Bay and the St Mary's River. The locks at Sault Ste Marie allow vessels to deal with the 20 foot drop in elevation between the lakes.

LAKE MICHIGAN

Lake Michigan is a long lake, about 310 miles. Her northern half is about 65 miles wide. The southern half is about 100 miles wide. She's deep with and average depth of 280 feet and a maximum depth of 925 feet. On her northwestern side, she features the Door Peninsula, a 60 mile strip of land about 40 miles wide at the base and just a few miles wide at the northern tip. One normally passes through Porte Des Morts ("Death's Door") between the tip of the peninsula and Washington Island to reach the waters of Green Bay.

The northeastern one-third of the lake is a boaters paradise. Harbor cities like Petoskey, Charlevoix, North Port, Traverse City and Leland are familiar to many with little understanding of these lakes. Grey's Reef Passage leads to the Straits of Mackinac and Lake Huron.

THE STRAITS OF MACKINAC

The Straits of Mackinac connect Lake Michigan and Lake Huron. The waterway is approximately 25 nautical miles long and 5 miles across. The Mackinac Bridge crosses the Straits and connects Michigan's Lower Peninsula with the Upper Peninsula. The region, including Mackinac Island, has been an important "meeting place" on the lakes for centuries.

The name for this region is of French derivation and regardless of the spelling is always pronounced "mackinaw." The British forced the French from the area after the French and Indian War and occupied the French fort and settlement on the northeast tip of Michigan's mainland at the entrance to the Straits. The city there, Mackinaw City, takes it spelling from the British. If you look closely at the chart above, you'll see the name of the city is misspelled!

LAKE HURON

Lake Huron, some say is shaped like a woodsman with the large Georgian Bay (itself 100 miles long and 50 miles wide) serving as the woodsman's "backpack." Including the Georgian Bay and the cruisers paradise, the North Channel, Lake Huron is 200 nautical miles long and 185 nautical miles wide. Her average depth is almost 200 feet. Lake Huron accepts water from both Lake Superior (via the St Mary's River) and Lake Michigan (via the Straits of Mackinac).

At Lake Huron's northern end one finds The Straits of Mackinac, several islands, including Mackinac Island and the DeTour Passage to the St Mary's River. Manitoulin Island is huge; about 70 miles long and 30 miles wide at it's widest. Manitoulin island is the largest island in the Great Lakes.

LAKE ERIE

Lake Erie is connected to Lake Huron by the St Clair and Detroit River. At Detroit, the rivers widen to form Lake St Clair. (Some consider Lake St Clair a sixth Great Lake.) It's about 75 miles from The Detroit River Light in northwestern Lake Erie to Port Huron at the southern end of Lake Huron. Buffalo, NY anchors her eastern end while Toledo, Ohio is on her far west.

Lake Erie is the most shallow of the lakes, averaging just 62 feet deep over her roughly 240 mile length. She is 56 miles across at the widest point but Long Point, on her northeastern end, juts 20 miles into the lake making the cross-lake distance there only about 20 miles. Her western end is typically less than 50 feet deep and is populated with islands.

LAKE ONTARIO

Lake Ontario is the smallest of the Great Lakes, about 175 nautical miles long and 46 miles wide at its widest point. She's about the same size as Lake Erie but, by volume, and because of her depth, holds almost four times more water then Erie. On average, she's about as deep as Huron, but much smaller. Her maximum depth is about 800 feet.

Lake Ontario is the farthest east of the Great Lakes and, on her far eastern end, at Kingston, Ontario, drains into the St Lawrence River. The St Lawrence River travels 500 miles passing Montreal and Quebec before dumping the fresh waters of the Great Lakes into the Gulf of St Lawrence and eventually the Atlantic Ocean.

Lake Ontario is 326 feet below Lake Erie! Lake Erie's waters "fall" into Lake Ontario via the Niagara Falls. Boaters, most anyway, use the Welland Canal to by-pass the Falls. She was known to the Iroquois Indians as Lacus Ontarius, "beautiful lake." And that she is!

Superior's South Shore 2010

2010-12-01T10:11:00.000-08:00

Superior's South Shore

William T Boehm

November 2010

Bill & Deb with La Tasse

The wind was howling, blowing steady in the mid 20 knot range with gusts in the 30s. We'd been holed up in Sault Ste Marie for five days. We were ready to get underway again. Lake Superior's beautiful but lonely and mostly uninhabited south shore was waiting.

Our trip from Manitowoc, WI had begun two weeks earlier, on June 14th. We'd come 300 nautical miles (nm) since then. That's 375 statute miles for you landlubbers. Before the summer was over we'd log another 850 nm and visit six new harbors. And, we'd accomplish our dream of sailing La Tasse, our Island Packet 380, in all five of the Great Lakes, North America's "inland sea."

To the Soo

The trip from our Lake Michigan home port of Manitowoc, WI to the "Soo" had been a mixture of new and familiar ports. We spent the first two nights in Kewaunee, our home town. The 28 nm trip was memorable but not particularly enjoyable. Since we were "home" and anxious to get underway, I paid less attention to the weather than normal. What a mistake. On a dreary day, the wind blew 15 knots from the north, on our nose, for most of the six hour trip. It would be the slowest passage of the summer. The lake was rough. So, we disengaged the auto-helm and I took the wheel. We tacked making slow progress until we were just off Kewaunee's outer harbor marker.

Passing our property, about 5 miles south of Kewaunee, with newly installed steps to the beach clearly visible, was a treat in spite of the conditions. But for the copula, the house is really not visible from the lake, hidden by the lakefront tree line and the 60' bluff. See, Deb, I told you there was no reason for window shades on the lake side of the house!

In the late 1800s Kewaunee was one of the great marine ports on the upper lakes. Serviced by perhaps the longest natural and navigable stream emptying into Lake Michigan, the Kewaunee River, she welcomed hundreds of vessels at her piers every year for decades. The first cross-lake carferry (as in railroad) arrived in November 1892, the Ann Arbor No 1. But, by the mid 1980s things were winding down. In 1990, after nearly a century of continuous operations, the carferries stopped coming. Like most Great Lakes ports, the harbor in this town of 2,500 now services mostly recreational boaters.

Exploring your hometown on foot is an interesting experience. We visited the Chamber of Commerce for the first time, re-discovered the large antique shop near the harbor and "found" a new watering hole, the Waterfront. We saved the best for last, walking uptown in a light rain to have dinner at The Cork.

We left Kewaunee and the Wisconsin shore early on June 16th and headed east across Lake Michigan to Frankfort, MI. We crossed the lake that day in just under nine hours averaging 6.7 nm per hour motor sailing most of the way with a 10 knot westerly breeze. For us, that's a long day on the water. We much prefer the 25-35 nm runs when we travel. We didn't know it then, but that trip across Lake Michigan would be our fourth longest one-day run of the summer!

The trip north from Frankfort to Beaver Island and then east to Mackinaw City with stops in Leland and Charlevoix was familiar territory. We'd been in these ports in 2009 traveling west and south. This time, it was east and north. We've fallen in love with the northwestern coast of Michigan's Lower Peninsula. But then, so have a lot of other people! For me, though, nothing compares with a trip through Grays Reef Passage and the Straits of Mackinac. There's so much history along that route, so much intrigue. Take, for example the now abandoned Waugoshance Light just north and east of the Passage. It's haunted, you know. That's why its been abandoned. The Coast Guard couldn't get keepers to work there any longer. They didn't want to live with ghosts. So, in1910 they shut it down and replaced it with the still operating White Shoal Light. Well, that the prevailing view anyway ....

The Mackinac Bridge dominates this entire area. At the north end of Grays Reef Passage, just before we headed east through the Straits, I noticed a fixture on the horizon. Initially, I thought it was a freighter but that didn't seem right. I grabbed the "bring-um closer's" (Cox speak for binoculars) to take a look. Still couldn't be sure. I watched for another 30 minutes and then saw another a bit further north. You've probably guessed, I was looking at the bridge towers. Those towers stand some 550 feet above the water. On clear days, they're visible for 25 nm.

The Mackinac Bridge

We spent three days in Mackinaw City, at the city marina. We like it there. It's close to everything and the marina staff is friendly and helpful. While there we visited the Coast Guard icebreaker Mackinaw. She's a museum now, a tourist attraction. A causality of 9/11, I think. For sixty-two years from 1944 until 2006 that wonderful vessel helped to extend the shipping season on the Upper Lakes. She had a heroic career. It's a shame to see her as a tourist stop. I'm told she was too costly to operate. To me, she seems perfectly fit for duty. I'll bet she shares my feeling.

We slipped our mooring lines on June 24 and headed east past Mackinac Island and Round Island Light. We motor sailed mostly but when a nice westerly breeze developed we turned off the engine and sailed. Our destination was DeTour Passage, the traditional and natural one-mile wide passage from Lake Huron into the North Channel and the St Mary's River. The Passage separates Michigan's Upper Peninsula from Drummond Island in Lake Huron. This was "new" territory for us.

I was anxious to transit the St Mary's. I had hoped for a nice day so that we could leisurely retrace the "steps" of the Native Americans and then later the French, British and American voyagers who used that waterway to gain access to Lake Superior's vast natural resources. The weather didn't cooperate, however, with overcast skies and occasional showers all day. But, the river didn't disappoint. While the Detroit and St Clair rivers connecting Lake Erie and Lake Huron have their charm they're quite commercial, particularly the Detroit. The 40 nm trip up the St Mary's is, in contrast, almost completely unspoiled by mankind. The river meanders for miles around and between uninhabited islands with names like Neebish, Lime, Sugar and St Joseph. At times, she's wide and quite shallow. At others, she's narrow and deep. There's very little current until you clear the north end of Neebish Island and head the last ten nm into Sault Ste Marie. Along the way, you're quite likely to see Eagles and Osprey nesting, caring for their young. We did. If you love the Great Lakes, you must get to know this beautiful river!

Sault Ste Marie

From the south, Sault Ste Marie can be hard to spot. The river makes a fairly sharp turn to the west and actually flows from west to east from lower Whitefish Bay pas the twin Canadian and U.S. cities with the same name. Then, you see them, the "Soo" Locks. At once, you're captivated by their dominance and the commerce they imply.

"What is commonly called the Sault is not properly a Sault, or a very high waterfall, but a violent current of waters from Lake Superior..." That's how Father Claude Dablon, a French Jesuit missionary, described the rapids of the St Mary's River in 1669. These rapids, transiting along a roughly one mile 20 foot change in elevation, have connected Lake Superior to the lower lakes via the St Mary's since the last ice age. They were a favorite fishing spot for Native Americans who called this place "Bawating" (water pitching over rocks) long before the French showed up. But, the rapids were not navigable in any commercial sense. Without locks, ships and supplies had to be portaged up/down the river. The first lock was actually constructed by the English in 1789 on the Ontario side of the river. It operated until it was burned by the Americans during the War of 1812. It was never rebuilt. After a couple of failed attempts at a lock on the U.S. side, enterprising Americans built a "strap" railroad in 1845 to facilitate the portage. The rails were made of wood and covered with metal to reduce wear. Vestiges of that railroad still exist today. That strap railroad carried considerable cargo until a lock was opened on the American side in 1855. The opening of that lock roughly parallels the commercial mining of copper along Lake Superior's south shore.

The French mission at this spot, the first established settlement, was named Sainte Marie by Father Jacques Marquette in 1668. But, much earlier, in about 1641 French explorers began referring to this place in honor of their patron saint. So, there you have it, Sainte Marie du Sault! Class dismissed.

Freighter traffic in Sault Ste Marie is unreal. We began to see a noticeable increase in freighter traffic while in DeTour harbor, roughly one passing each hour. But, at this "bottle neck" the traffic was even more obvious. In an average year, we were told, the locks host 10,000 vessel passages. That's about 1.5 per hour seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day for the roughly 290 days they're operational. For years I've kept a log of the freighters spotted while underway. After a time, even I gave up recording. Hard to believe, I know.

Weather kept us in Sault Ste Marie for six nights. For the first few days, it rained and was overcast. Then, it cleared with a vengeance. My weather log for the the period tells the story. The daily high temperature went from 72 degrees upon arrival to a trip-low of 55 degrees on June 29. The barometer was 30.09 on arrival. It dropped to a trip-low of 29.52 on June 27 and then rose dramatically to 30.45 by July 1. The wind blew! For three straight days, with lots of sun, we had sustained 25-27 knot NNW winds with gusts in the low 30 knot range. Needless to say, we stayed put.

Staying put wasn't much of a sacrifice, weather aside. The city is working hard to build a tourist industry based on its location and history. We watched the freighters from a perch in the park at the Soo Locks, toured the renovated River of History Museum and the Valley Camp, a retired 550' Great Lakes freighter built in 1917. Just south of the marina the city is developing a historic village with reconstructed homes from three of its most prominent early European residents; Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, Indian Agent, John Johnson, Trader and Bishop Baraga, the "Snowshoe Priest." More about them later. We won't soon forget dinner at the local Elks Club with newly made friends from the marina.

Sault Ste Marie

Whitefish Bay and Superior's South Shore

We cleared the MacArthur lock about 7:30 am on July 1. It was an easy "lift." We had experienced the Lake Erie/Lake Ontario Welland canal in 2008. Those eight locks that by-pass the Niagara Falls, each with a 35' change in elevation, were a challenge. In the Soo's 800' MacArthur lock we hardly scraped the lock wall as we rose the roughly 20' to Lake Superior.

Clearing that lock and heading into Lake Superior's Whitefish Bay was intimidating for me. For so long we'd been told in song and in verse how "dangerous" Lake Superior can be. Whitefish Point is, after all merchandised as the "grave yard of the Great Lakes." The Edmond Fitzgerald is "buried" some 12 nautical miles northeast of the Point. I vowed to be careful.

Leaving the lock and heading into the upper St Mary's, the weather was pretty nice. The sun was shining and the wind had settled down, blowing just 5 knots from the north. It was chilly, just 53 degrees, but we were comfortable in our protected cockpit. As we entered the narrows at Pointe Aux Pins about eight miles from the Sault where the Bay essentially becomes the down bound St Mary's river the wind seemed to freshen significantly (apparent wind was about 18 knots) and the water became rough. "Oh, dear," I thought, "all those things they say about this lake are true and we aren't yet in Whitefish Bay." I dug out the safety harnesses and strapped us in. Deb only rolled her eyes!

Within a matter of minutes, after we passed the narrows and were clearly in the open water of Whitefish Bay things again settled down. The apparent wind was now just 10-12 knots from the north and the water was much smoother. "Of course," I thought, "the narrows!" Relax, Bill. You can do this! I somewhat reluctantly unhooked the safety harness.

Whitefish Bay is itself big water. The Bay is round, roughly 30 nm across. Even today, mariners use the Bay for cover when things get nasty on Lake Superior. Gordon Lightfoot's song about the "Fitz" even suggests that she may have been saved if "... she'd have put 15 more miles behind her." That line is a reference to the safety afforded by Whitefish Bay.

There's a harbor at Whitefish Point about 35 nm NNW of the Soo but it is very remote, has no facilities and was reported to be shoaled at the entrance. If the weather conditions had been iffy that day, we would have used the harbor regardless. La Tasse draws just 4'7." The next harbor, Grand Marais, MI was still 50 nm away. We'd never done 85 nm in one day. But when we reached Whitefish Point by 11:30 am we turned west and kept going. We were motor sailing with good effect in a light northerly breeze.

We made Grand Marais harbor by 7:15 pm and docked along their transient wall. We were the only boat on the wall, the only transient boat in the harbor! We were tired but awfully proud of what we had accomplished that day; up at 5:30 am, clear of the Soo lock by 7:30 am, then an 85 nm transit to Grand Marais. All that in 14 hours. Welcome to Lake Superior!

Grand Marais

The stretch of coast from Grand Marais to Munising is a gift from God. Along the way you pass the Grand Sable, Au Sable Light and The Pictured Rocks. Grand Portal Point's sheer rock wall stands 185' above Lake Superior's water. Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, the Indian Agent, interpreter, Lake Superior explorer and author had it right when, in 1820, he said those sandstone bluffs "...present some of the most sublime and commanding views of nature." The Pictured Rocks region became the nation's first National Lakeshore in 1966.

The Pictured Rocks

When I think of Munising, I see tour boats! From mid-morning until past sundown those boats take tourists, hundreds of them, out to see the Pictured Rocks. They go without regard to the weather, it seems. "Where do all these people come from?" Deb kept asking.

Munising harbor, South Bay actually, is one of the finest natural harbors on Lake Superior. The mainland forms a bit of a crescent giving protection from the south, west and northwest. It's protected from the north by Grand Island, 7 1/2 miles long and 4 miles wide. Grand Island's "Thumb" which protects the harbor from the northeast is itself 3 miles long and about a mile wide.

Grand Island offers many areas for the anchoring sailor which bring me to the next part of this story.

Our intent was to stay in Munising through the July 4th holiday. In our experience, Independence Day is the only day transient slips are truly scarce on the Great lakes. The barometer was dropping so our plan seemed to be a good one. Besides, we'd just come 122 nm in two days. That's normally a week for us.

The next day, July 3rd, the wind piped up and blew 15-17 knots out of the SW. By 5 pm the barometer was 29.91, down 44 points in just 48 hours. The weather forecast called for the winds to die some overnight and then build to the mid-20s by late the next day.

The Munising dockmaster was fine with our plan. But about noon on July 3rd he offered an unexpected caution. Fireworks were scheduled for the harbor after dark on the 4th and boaters were prohibited onboard during the big show. He advised that we leave the marina, anchor in the harbor and then reclaim our spot on the wall later that night.

As we saw it then, our options were limited. We don't sail (or motor) at night. We weren't going to start then with a bunch of "party" boaters. And, we generally don't anchor. Some years before, in western Lake Erie, we had anchored in a "party harbor" and were hit by a drunk. While the damage to our boat was minimal, we've shied away from anchoring since.

The Marquette, MI harbor master (our next stop) had advised that all their marina slips were booked for the 4th. We expected that. However, we were assured that they would have "lots of space on the wall." Having spent lots of nights tied to a marina wall we weren't concerned.

We checked the weather forecast again. No change. Moderate southerly winds (10-15 knots) through mid-day then building to the mid-20s by late afternoon. Scattered showers were forecast for late in the day, but nothing serious was anticipated. We'd be secure by about 1 pm if we left early. And the south wind would actually help us on the 37 nm westerly trip over to Marquette. Decision made.

The trip to Marquette harbor was uneventful and the weather was as forecast with one exception. As was becoming the norm on this trip, the wind blew stronger than forecast. It was blowing in the mid 20s by the time we spotted the harbor light, roughly noon. "It will be good to get behind that marina breakwall," I thought.

Cinder Pond marina is on the northeast end of a large, open and once very industrial harbor. The marina break wall, inside the harbor, runs west to east. The space we had been promised, I assumed, would be inside the marina and along that wall; good protection from a strong south wind. We called the marina for instructions upon entering the harbor. Then, I listened in horror as the dock master explained that the wall space we had been promised was " the old coal dock," made of concrete and steel with no surface protection and outside the marina. And, yes, that wall also runs west to east!

Water was pounding against that wall. The swells were about 2 feet. We attempted to dock but immediately understood that we could not be on that wall. Forget personal comfort. La Tasse would have been severely damaged.

We needed options. Quite understandably, the marina staff offered no suggestions. A kind passer-by offered to let us raft off his sailboat, moored along a wall in a more protected area of the harbor. A possibility, we thought. There were no anchoring possibilities along the south end of the harbor with any protection from the wind. The closest marina was 5 nm to the north, unknown and uninvestigated.

As we motored in the harbor with the wind howling and Deb at the helm I searched for an option, any option that would protect us and the boat for the night. Then, I heard them. The four words I thought I would never hear from Deb ... "we've got to anchor." With almost 3,000 nm under our keel over three summers, we had not once dropped a hook with La Tasse. Deb much prefers terra ferma, you see.

The Marquette anchorage is in the northeast corner of the harbor with the marina break wall to the west and the harbor wall to the east. It's hardly an ideal spot in a strong south wind. I remembered reading in a cruise guide that the water in the anchorage was 12-15 feet deep with a mud bottom. There were several boats in the anchorage on mooring balls but none were anchored.

We agreed on a plan. I went forward to prepare things as Deb looked for a good place to drop the hook. With little fanfare, we dropped about 65 feet of chain rode in 12 feet of water and let the boat settle back. There was no need for reverse in that wind! She bit the bottom like a dog with a bone. The wind continued to howl but La Tasse dug in and did not move!

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. The sky became overcast and the wind speed lessened to the mid-teens by early evening. The forecasted showers arrived late afternoon. By 10 pm the wind had shifted to the west blowing just 6-8 knots. The harbor fireworks at 10:30 pm were our just reward. But so was anchor watch. As Deb slept, I dozed in the cabin, reconstructed the days events and monitored our position. I felt good, even proud. To be sure, we had made some mistakes that day. But, we had also accomplished another milestone on our journey to becoming good cruising sailors. We had quite successfully "dropped the hook" in less than ideal circumstances. We did not panic. We were quite comfortable aboard La Tasse. Next day, with Emily's cheerful assistance, we were provided a very suitable dock inside the marina.

We enjoyed Marquette. With a population of 22,000 its the largest city in Upper Michigan and the center of commerce for the region. Founded in 1849 as Carp River, it was initially a port for the mining operations in nearby Ishpeming and Negaunee. The harbor is dominated by a huge but now inactive iron ore dock. The waterfront area is developing into a significant tourist attraction. Restaurnats and bars in the harbor area are very good and quite diverse. We were joined in Marquette by family friends Julie and Lee Zebro. Lee and Julie have been cruising with us every summer for over ten years. They've learned along with us. They bring too much luggage but other than that it's great having them aboard for part of the summer.

The visit to Marquette's St Peter's Cathedral was a trip highlight for me. Bishop Frederic Baraga, the "Snowshoe Priest," laid the cornerstone for what was the first Cathedral of the Diocese of Marquette in 1864. To be closer to his flock, Baraga had decided to move the Diocese from Saukt Ste Marie. he didicated the building in 1866 and then died two years later at the age of 70. That church burned to the ground in 1879 and was replaced by the building that stands today.

Baraga's story of personal sacrifice is incredibile. He left the comfort of his European home, Slovenia, at age 33 for the Catholic missions in the Upper Great Lakes. For thiry years, mostly alone and without regard to personal safety or comfort, he served the Native Americans and the European transplants along Lake Superior's harsh south shore. The good Bishop is buried in St Peter's Cathedral. His shrine in nearby L'Anse, near the last of his five Lake Superior missions, towers 60 feet above the Red Rock Bluff; appropriately so. Bishop Baraga is a saint. I don't care how long it take the bureaucrates in the Catholic Church to recognize it!

Many of the older buildings in Marquette, including the Cathedral, are built of a multi-colored, mostly red sandstone. We were to see many more examples of this beautiful stone construction on our next stop, the Keweenaw Peninsula.

St Peter's Cathedral

To the Keweenaw !

The original plan had been to visit the Apostle Islands in the southwestern corner of Lake Superior and then head home retracing our 675 nm outbound journey. We were advised by sailors while in Marquette to avoid Ontonagon harbor, a longish 58 nm west and south of Hancock. The river tends to shoal at the harbor entrance, we were told. The next harbor along that exposed coast, Black River, WI was about 93 nm, 8 miles longer than the trip from the Soo to Grand Marais. It was doable, of course. But, the real problem for me was that we were planning to spend only three days in Hancock. That was hardly enough time to explore "copper country" and experience its history. So, we compromised. We'd skip the Apostles and instead spend the time exploring the Keweenaw. (We'd chartered in the Apostles in the late 1980s so had some prior experience with the area).

The trip from Marquette to Hancock, MI on the Portage River at the base of the Keweenaw Peninsula is 72 nm. You can break the trip by stopping at Big Bay harbor, 30 nm north and west of Marquette. However, as was common along this coast, we couldn't be certain of the water depths at the entrance and there was no one to call. Even with a shoal draft boat, we were hesitant. Going aground in a smallish and remote harbor isn't my idea of a good time! So, we agreed to skip Big Bay and waited in Marquette for a weather window that would stay open for 12 hours.

We cleared Marquette harbor early on July 9. The sky was clear with a light westerly breeze. We motor sailed along the coast making good progress until we reached Big Bay Point, about 20 nm northwest of Marquette. By then, the wind was on our nose. We put the sail away and motored, heading west along the coast. What a beautiful coastline this is. The Huron Mountains on the mainland were off our port. The Huron Islands (Gull, McIntyre and Lighthouse) were off our starboard. The Huron Mountains are impressive from the water, standing some 900 feet above the lake. Geologists consider them to be the oldest mountains east of the Mississippi River.

We passed Point Abbaye mid-afternoon and headed 11 nm across Keweenaw Bay to the Lower Entrance of the Portage River. As we passed the Lower Entry Light the wind was blowing 15-20 knots from the WNW; much stronger than forecast. The conditions were not good for a night on the Harbor of Refuge Pier so we continued on the additional 11 nm to Hancock. The wind was on our nose and howling down that river valley. But, by 6:15 pm, we were moored at the Houghton Co Marina. The 72 nm trip had been completed in just over 10 hours.

The Keweenaw Peninsula is a Great Lakes treasure. Located on the western end of Mighigan's Upper Peninsula, this narrow 70 mile long jagged finger of land juts northeastward into Lake Superior. It's one of three "great" peninsulas on the Great Lakes with Door County (Lake Michigan) and Long Point (Lake Erie) being the other two. This place is the definition of remote. Even Henry Rowe Schoolcraft expressed that thought when he wrote in 1820 the "One cannot help fancying that he has gone to the ends of the earth and beyond the boundaries appointed for the residence of man" when he reaches the Keweenaw. And yet, man has been on this peninsula for 10,000 years. Why, you ask? The answer is copper!

The rock that forms the Keweenaw is extremely old. More than 1,000 million years ago lava flows intermingled with the sandstone base and created copper bearing lodes. The copper was so prevalent that it could be found on the surface. There's documented evidence of copper mining by prehistoric man on the Keweenaw and nearby Isle Royale as early as 5,800 BC. The early French explorers recorded their copper "discoveries" in the late 1600s. But it was the Americans and namely Douglass Houghton who triggered large scale mining in the region. Houghton began to publish his findings in the ealy 1830s. But it was his 1840 geological survey that really got things started. By 1843, the copper rush to the Keweenaw was on making it the first such "rush" for precious metal in the U.S. The California gold rush would come six years later.

Things started slowly, built to a climax in the early 1900s and then ended rather abruptly. The early years, from 1843 to the late 1860s, were a financial disappointment. As Douglass Houghton had predicted, few mines actually produced a return for their mostly Boston-based investors. Still, the prospect of striking it rich continued to attract dollars and people to the region. By the 1880s, with process improvements and some "science" the industry began to produce dividends for its investors. The Calumet and Hecla, by far the most successful mining operation in the region, returned over $20 million to it shareholders over a fifty year period starting about 1871. By 1900, the regions mostly immigrant population had grown to over 100,000. Some put that number even higher. Calumet, in the heart of the peninsula, was Michigan's largest city and a candidate to become the state capital. Today, the region has fewer than 35,000 people.

The Keweenaw is a study in contrasts. One get breathtaking vistas of the peninsula and Lake Superior from high atop the Brockway Mountains (735 feet above the lake). Coastal harbor towns, Eagle River and Copper Harbor, are desolate, quaint and rugged. Their small and shallow harbors are difficult to enter in anything but calm conditions. Their marina facilities reflect the fact that few transient boaters come to visit. The natural beauty stands in stark contrast to the scars left by a mining industry that had little regard for the natural wonders that made it possible. Torch Lake, on the peninsula's east side, once reflected the hustle and bustle of prosperity. Today, and because of mine wastes, it's one of the most polluted waters in the Great Lakes. Smokestacks from the smelters and abondoned piles of mine tailings stand amid wonderful sandstone and brick buildings, including an elaborate 1,000 seat music hall built in 1900. These are the reminders of what was once an enormous concentration of financial wealth.

Copper Harbor & Lake Superior

Immigrants created this wealth. They dug and mined the shafts, some 9,000 feet long and 6,000 feet below the surface. The earliest immigrants were Cornish, Irish, German and French Canadian. Some were recruited for their mining skills. The less skilled came later from Finland, Italy and Eastern Europe. Little effort was made to "Americanize" these immigrants. Each retained their own language, published their own newspaper, had their own church and lived in their own community on the peninsula. While inefficient, it seemed to work. Makes one wonder about all the fuss over today's first generation immigrants....

Any discussion of the Keweenaw is incomplete, I think, without including the strike of 1913-14. After about 1900, shaft copper mines began to lose out to the open pit mines in the western U.S. To get competative, unit labor costs had to be reduced. In those days, miners were paid in relation to the value of copper and by the amount of ore brought to the surface, not by the hour. Miners, as skilled workers, were treated as entrepreneurs. They had contracts and worked in teams of two or three, often in family units. The one-man drill threatened to change all that. It increased output person reducing the need for skilled labor and, according to the miners, made a dangerous job even more so. Things came to an ugly head with a work stoppage that started in July 1913. It went nowhere as willing workers from elsewhere were hired to replace those on strike. By December with the strike failing and money running low, things were at a feaver pitch. Early in the month, three replacement workers ("scabs") were killed by members of the union. Then, on December 24, about 175 adults and 500 children crowded into the upstairs room at Italian Hall in Calumet for a Christmas celebration. No one knows for certain what happened next. Most historians believe that during the celebration someone from outside yelled "fire." In the mad scramble to get down the stairs and outside, seventy-four people died. Sixty were children. That pretty much ended things for the "copper country" strike.

Italian Hall is gone now, demolished in 1984. Only the archway from the original building remains. It stands on one of the many vacant lots in Calumet. Like so many other things in this region, the site needs work.

The Arch

Downtown Houghton is more prosperous than Hancock, but only slightly so. That's as it should be. Houghton is, after all, the birthplace of professional ice hockey! Lee Murdock does a song about a lone mariner who spends his winters, three months every year, land-locked in that port while his freighter, the Arthur B Homer, is laid up in Marquette. As the story goes, he walks up Sheldon Street in a cold rain with "all that he has" an "old canvas bag and a duffle slung over his shoulder." As the rain turns to sleet, he takes a small but clean room at the Downtowner Motel. Yup, it's actually there. At 110 Sheldon Ave., you'll find the Downtowner Motel. Still renting rooms. I was tempted but did not actually check out Room 17. Sorry, Lee.

"Now I've been through the boom towns of a century dying

Passed the ruins of the smelters and the rusted headframes

Down through Mohawk and Ahmeek, Calumet and Laurium

And a hundred sad places that have passed with no name."

Craig Johnson, BMI, 1981

The Trip Home

We left Houghton County Marina on July 17th and headed back to Marquette. The wind was initially light at 10 knots from the west. heading mostly east, we motor sailed making good progress. By mid-day, when we rounded Big Bay Point, the wind was blowing 15 knots from the north. With the wind at our backs, we made short work of the remaining 30 nm to Marquette completing the 72 nm passage in just 9 hours and 20 minutes!

Julie and Lee left us a few days later. Deb and I were on our own again. We had 500 nm to go, lots of time and no pressure! The trip home would be our "summer vacation."

After a stop-over in Munising, we spent a couple of enjoyable days in Grand Marais, MI. It's a beautiful place, quiet and uncomplicated despite a very popular campground. I wasn't a bit disappointed when I was unable to purchase a USA Today. Actually, they sold no newspapers in the town. The local merchants understand their clientele.

The harbor at Whitefish Point was a trip highlight. Recall that we bypassed this port on the outbound leg. We're members of the Great Lakes Cruising Club (GLCC). Their harbor reports are now on-line and interactive. Via the GLCC website we had learned that the Whitefish Point harbor entrance had been dredged in early July. Not only were we able to break up the long 85 nm run back to the Soo, but we were able to enjoy one of the nicest evenings on the trip. A bike ride to the Lighthouse and museum was only topped by the sunset in that remote and peaceful spot. We disagee; strongly disagee, with those who say this is just a "harbor of refuge." It's the heart and soul of Lake Superior's south shore. If you're making this trip, spend a night or two at Whitefish Point.

Whitefish Bay

As many as a dozen "tall ships" were sailing the Great Lakes during the summer of 2010 making stops in ports on all five lakes. We hoped we would see at least one on the water or in a port. No such luck on the outbound leg. On the way back, however, just off Lake Superior's Crisp Point, we spotted our first, the 185' Barque Europa. What a site she was crossing within a mile of our position and headed for Duluth. Then, as we waited patiently for our down bound lock at the Soo, we couldn't believe our eyes when the rigging from the 198' Brig Niagara appeared above the lock gate. Up bound, she passed within 100 feet of our position. This was our second encounter with the Niagara, having seen her on Lake Erie in 2008 just off her home port of Erie, Pa. That night, a third but unidentified tall ship was moored across the St Mary's on the Canadian side of the river. We think it was either the Denis Sullivan or the Bounty. Later in the trip, while in Leland,MI, we shared the harbor with the Royaliste, a smallish 68' gaff-rigged square topsail ketch with San Fransisco as her hailing port. Today's "tall ships" and the people who support them are a treasure. They help remind us of a time when there were no automobiles, railroads or airplanes. Things might happen faster now but they don't happen with more importance or a greater sense of accomplishment.

The Brig Niagara

Down bound on the St Mary's was as enjoyable and peaceful as the trip up. The down bound channel, on the west side of Neebish Island is shorter and because of the current, a bit faster. We took note of the ruins of the old British fort on St joseph Island. The fort is not much more than a flag now. No soldiers, thank Heaven!

If you look at a map, you scratch your head in wonderment ... why is Drummond Island, at DeTour Passage, U.S. soil? It makes no sense that the U.S. border juts out to include Drummond Island before it heads north up the St Mary's. Ah, but it does. After the Revolutionary War, the British moved their fort from Michigan's mainland (Mackinaw City) to Mackinac Island. It took until 1796 for the U.S. to chase the Brits off the strategically placed island. The Brits then moved their fort to St Joseph Island thinking a fort there might allow them to retain the regional fur trade. When, in July 1812, the British on St Joseph Island heard about the War of 1812 before the U.S. troops on Mackinac Island they invaded and took the island fort by surprise. The British held Mackinac Island until the war ended. But, during the war, the U.S. burned the British fort on St Joseph Island. After the war, the Brits built a fort on Drummond Island believing that they would lose St Joseph to the U.S. but retain Drummond. It was a bad assumption. In the border discussions that finally ended in the late 1820s, the U.S. got Drummond and the Brits retained St Joseph. The British fort was again relocated, this time further south to Lake Huron's Georgian Bay. And we think things ploitical happen in a slow and confused way these days!

We headed west under the Mackinac Bridge and into Lake Michigan on August 1 after stops in DeTour and Mackinaw City. It was early morning. The sun was just coming up in the east, struggling to break through the cloud cover. The wind was blowing lightly from the SW. I normally cringe when passing under bridges or overhead wires. It's the mast, you see. But not the Big Mack. She's become a line of demarcation for me and many others, I suppose. Going east, she signals adventure. Coming back west, she's a "welcome home."

Michigan's northwest coast was busy in August 2010, much busier than the yeaer before. The weather was warm and the economy was on the mend despite what the politicians were saying. Tourists and boaters were enjoying the last month of summer.

We particularly enjoyed our four days in Charlevoix. The city marina is new and the staff is friendly and helpful. Round Lake is protected from Lake Michigan and is the definition of perpetual motion. Boats of all sizes parade to and from Lake Michigan and Lake Charlevoix through Round Lake. Everything is within an easy walk from the marina. We enjoyed our afternoon "harbor tours" with Stanley, our inflatable tender. We put Lake Charlevoix, a large, roughly 15 by 2 mile "finger lake" on our "to do" list. We'll be back to Charlevoix "the beautiful."

By August 12 we were in Manistee, MI. We had decided some time earlier to re-cross Lake Michigan from Manistee to Manitowoc, roughly 57 nm. The weather had been unsettled for a week as we found short windows to make the trek south from Charleviox to Leland, Frankfort and Manistee. We needed a 12 hour weather window to cross the lake, of course. The forecast was not promising with southwesterly winds bringing threatening weather for several days and then strong west, northwest winds for several days more. August 13th, a Friday, looked like our best opportunity for several days. We were inclined to take it.

Sailors are a superstitious lot. Don't start a cruise on a Friday. It's the day Christ died. Disaster will follow if you step onto a boat with your left foot first. Pouring wine on deck will bring good luck on a long voyage. (Why would anyone do that on purpose with perfectly good wine?) A naked woman on board ship will calm the sea. Listen up, Deb! Don't sing shipwreck songs while aboard ship. You get the picture ....

In spite of all that, we left Manistee early on Friday August 13th. For seven hours the wind blew true from the SSW 12-15 knots. Perfect. We made great time as we headed mostly west. With about ten miles left, the wind picked up. At first, it was 15-17 knots, then 20-22 knots but always from the SSW. We shortened sail and searched for signs of the coast. We saw nothing but haze. The waves in Maritime Bay just off Manitowoc, WI were 3-5' and the wind was blowing in the mid 20s with higher gusts. Finally, about 1/3 mile from the harbor entrance, we spotted the Manitowoc Light. To say we were relieved is an understatment of the first order. As luck would have it, we had to wait at the harbor entrance for the Badger to clear. We didn't complain. We entered the harbor with limited but adaquate visibility. The 57 nm trip had taken just 8 1/2 hours. We were home.

Epilogue

Lake Superior had been a mental challenge for me from the start. As we made our "retirement plan" I always imagined that Lake Superior would be our biggest Great Lakes challenge. She's so big, 350 miles long and 160 miles wides at her widest point. Her surface covers almost 32,000 square miles! She's deep and cold, with average surface temperatures in the mid-40 degree range in mid-summer. And, she can be downright nasty with wind and waves that rival the oceans in hurricane conditions. She's desolite. Her harbors are typically small and far apart. Her north coast across Canada is mostly uninhabited, even today. All those things are true.

The "tourist merchants" however, have done her a disservice. Lake Superior is also a beautiful inland sea. She is to be respected as is every large body of water. But, she is not to be feared. You can choose to stay away because you want creature comforts. There she's lacking. But don't stay away because you're afraid or intimidated. Pray for the men and women who have lost their lives on this "great" lake but forget about the wrecks. Ignore the promotional videos. More ships and more lives have been lost in Lake Erie's shallow western end than in all of Lake Superior's vastness. Lake Superior isn't "mean."

We may not go back to "finish" Lake Superior. It's a long way for us; 300 nm to the Soo. The long stretches between ports aren't exactly our cup of tea. Who knows? A couple of winters of daydreaming might just make another trip to this grand inland sea a possibility.

Home

Sandusky to Manitowoc 2009

2009-10-22T12:20:00.000-07:00

Three Big Bridges
Sandusky Bay to Manitowoc
William T Boehm

The 800 nautical mile trip from Sandusky Bay in western Lake Erie to Manitowoc, WI had been made many times; in my mind, of course. This trip would be easier, certainly less stressful, than the trip we had taken in 2008. That 1000 nm circumnavigation of Lake Ontario from, and back to, Sandusky Bay, had been our first extended voyage. And, we did that trip with a “new” boat, La Tasse, our 2000 Island Packet 380. (That trip is summarized on our blog at: http://latassesailing.blogspot.com/ ). For sure, this would be a more relaxing trip. And, this time, we were coming home!

My sailing partner, best friend and wife of 37 years and I left home on June 8th. Yup, just the two of us. Deb’s all those things bundled into one terrific package! We arrived in Sandusky that evening and moved aboard. La Tasse would be home for much of the summer.

The trip north to the Straits of Mackinac, then south along Lake Michigan’s eastern shore to Ludington and then across Lake Michigan to Manitowoc would take about 10 weeks. Along the way, we’d travel under three of the seven bridges that span the connecting waters of the Great lakes; The Ambassador Bridge crossing the Detroit River, the Blue Water Bridge crossing the St Clair at Port Huron and the Mackinac Bridge crossing the Straits. (The other bridges span the Niagara River connecting Ontario and New York state and the St Mary's connecting Michigan and Ontario at the Soo.) We’d visit 29 harbors including four in Ontario. We’d sail three of the five Great lakes, cross Lake St Clair and transit both the Detroit and the St Clair rivers.

Western Lake Erie

We left Sandusky for South Bass Island and Put In Bay harbor on June 12th. Son Andrew, his wife Emily and their friend Rachael were aboard. Passing Cedar Point amusement park brought a flood of memories. Lake Erie had been our first "big water." Vezina, our 37.5 Hunter Legend, had been our first "big boat." We cut our cruising teeth leaving and coming back into Sandusky Bay with the Marblehead Light ("Mabel" to us) and Cedar Point on either side of the narrow, often rough, channel. South Passage, the water between Catawba Island and Kelly's Island, was, as usual, a confused sea. We tried to sail but eventually the wind died and we settled for "iron Mike," our 56hp Yanmar diesel.

Over the years, we’d fallen in love with Put In Bay harbor. It was, of course, the harbor used by Commodore Perry before his decisive victory over the British in the War of 1812. That alone makes it a special place. It was, we thought, an appropriate “first stop” as we prepared to leave our sailing grounds of 11 years. We had learned a lot about sailing and each other while sailing in western Lake Erie. Despite her occasional "outbursts," we would miss her.

Some claim that western Lake Erie is among the very best sailboat cruising grounds in the world. From Sandusky Bay one can reach five ports within 2-3 hours of sailing, covering 180 degrees on the compass (Huron and Vermillion, Kelly's Island, Put In Bay and Port Clinton). Leamington and Pelee Island in Ontario, Lorain, Cleveland and Toledo, Ohio are an easy one day sail. The Lake Erie Islands, including Pelee Island in Canadian waters, are wonderful with modern marina facilities in each port. If you're a Great Lakes sailor, you need to spend time in western Lake Erie.

The Rivers

The trip up the Detroit and St Clair rivers to Port Huron was enjoyable, uneventful and familiar. We’d made that trip before. We entered the Detroit River, spent a night at the Wyandotte Yacht Club and then headed for the Ambassador Bridge and Lake St. Clair.

The Ambassador Bridge is a product of the roaring 20s. The idea for a bridge connecting Detroit and Canada began to take shape following a conversation in New York City between John W Austin and Detroit financier Joseph Bower. From the start, the bridge was envisioned as a commercial enterprise. After several years of discussion and debate, the citizens of Detroit passed a referendum on June 28th, 1927, allowing the bridge to be built. When the bridge opened for business on November 15th, 1929, its 1,850 foot center span made it the longest suspension bridge in the world. Today, after 80 years of operation, there is a plan underway to "re-make" this very significant U.S./Canada connection.

The St Clair River is a lazy and laid back 40 nm long. It stretches from Lake St Clair to Port Huron. We took the Middle Channel out of Lake St Clair, southwest of the main shipping channel and south of Goose Bay. The channel entrance was well marked but the water was only 6-7 feet deep until we were in the river. La Tasse draws about 5 feet. Needless to say, we held our breath a bit trusting that the charts were correct. They were.

The trip up to Algonac along that channel was very scenic; mostly flora and fauna until we joined the North Channel just west of Algonac. Little did we realize then that the overnight stop in Algonac was to be a trip highlight. Algonac, Michigan is, of course, original home of the Chris Craft boat company. Today, the boat factory property is a marina with a series of canals providing boat access to the river for the residents in the area. Two swan families provided the afternoon entertainment as we took a long and leisurely dinghy tour of the area.

We arrived in Port Huron’s Black River a day later, celebrated our 37th wedding anniversary and did some provisioning. The weather in Port Huron was nasty. Lots of heavy rain. Spoiled the sightseeing to be sure. But, the folks at the Port Huron Yacht Club were welcoming and helpful. With the generous use of a club member's car, we were able to provision and do some laundry.

On June 19th, about 8:30 am, we sailed under the Blue Water Bridge. We were in Lake Huron!

The Blue Water Bridge is a twin-span international link between Port Huron and Sarnia, Ontario. The first bridge opened for traffic on October 10,1938. It is a cantilever truss with a total length of 6,178 feet. The second bridge opened in July 1997 amid controversy about its design as the continuous-tied arch design was a distant third in the design polls. Most wanted the second bridge to mirror the first, of course. The Bridge Authority rejected that design believing it would give the bridge a false sense of history. The design selected, they thought, would give the best combination of low maintenance and its own sense of history. In my mind, the arch on the new bridge dominates and has become the visible symbol of the bridge. That may have been the plan all along .....

Lake Huron

Lake Huron is big water, roughly 200 nm wide by 200 nm long. She's sometimes thought of as two lakes with the very large Georgian Bay (100 miles long by 50 miles wide) and the cruisers paradise, The North Channel, off to her west and north. One enters and leaves the southern end of Lake Huron through the narrows that begin at Saginaw Bay, almost 100 nm north of Port Huron. In the golden age of shipping on the Lakes, this southern end was a concentration point as schooners and steamers came together here for their trips from, or to, the St Clair and Detroit rivers. In the "Greatest Storm in Inland Navigation," the great storm of November 1913, 251 sailors died and 19 commercial vessels were totally destroyed on the Great Lakes. The southern end of Lake Huron claimed at least 6 of those vessels and 143 of those 251 lives.

The ten "lower" Lake Huron ports we visited, including Grand Bend, Bayfield and Goderich in Ontario, were all very remote and mostly small villages. Goderich, Ontario and Alpena, Mi were the exceptions and even they were of modest size. The maritime history in this area, though, is incredible. Most of these small towns owe their very existence to Lake Huron and the importance of water transport during the early settlement years (roughly 1830 - 1945). Those days are largely gone now and they all struggle to attract tourists.

The Ontario Coast

Meeting people and making new friends is an important part of trips like this.

As we entered Grand Bend, Ontario, a river harbor, we were asked to dock up-river and in front of a smallish sailboat. The turning radius was small and the current was not helping. Deb was not a happy camper but, after offering a little verbal abuse, she got La Tasse into position and docked. The smallish sailboat, turns out, was occupied by four guys from Toledo, OH that have been trailer-sailing the Great Lakes for about 30 years! Great guys and even better story tellers! They knew all the "right" restaurants and gave us some great advice about Mackinac Island. We took their restaurant advice in Grand Bend and then joined them for dinner in Bayfield at a really great restaurant; the Red Pump. These guys even provided the Bayfield transportation!

Goderich, Ontario is a history buffs dream. The city rests on a towering ledge more than 100 feet above the harbor. What a view one has from that bluff! Of course, catching that view is only possible if you're willing to climb the steep stairs along the bluff and walk into town. The town is built around an octagon with the court house in the middle. The "square" is the center of commerce and recreation for the area and this town of about 7,500. Goderich boasts two wonderful history museums, the Huron Historic Gaol and the large Huron County museum. The Gaol (jail) was built between 1839 and 1842 and is a "must see." The large, mostly industrial harbor is the home of Sifco Salt, producer of 45% of the rock salt mined in Canada. Goderich is also a major grain port for western Ontario. The beach is developed and well used by the locals. Goderich boasts some of the most beautiful sunsets on Lake Huron.

Michigan's Forgotten Coast

We crossed Lake Huron for Harbor Beach, Mi on June 26th with a mostly sunny sky and a Northwest breeze. The wind picked up offshore and we were able to motorsail with a full jib. The 40 nm trip took us just 5 1/2 hours, averaging 7.2 knots for the trip.

We'll remember Harbor Beach for the tractor pull. It was mostly souped up riding lawn mowers but it was fun just the same. As would be the case for the entire trip up this "forgotten coast," the marina was mostly empty. The economic recession wasn't helping, of course, but our guess is that these small towns are mostly by-passed by cruisers.

We loved Port Austin! This little port on the tip of Michigan's "mitt." had everything a cruiser could ask for; an accommodating marina, easy provisioning, excellent restaurants and good biking. The coastline along the south side of Saginaw Bay reminded us of the sandstone bluffs in Door County, Wi. All these good things to say and, honestly, while we were in Port Austin, the weather sucked!

We headed across Saginaw Bay to East Tawas in a fog, mostly. The weather cleared sufficiently for me to get a glimpse of Charity Island, so named long ago by lake mariners for its location; placed there "through the charity of God," at the entrance to Saginaw Bay midway between the city of Au Gres, Michigan and "the thumb." The light on Charity Island guided sailors into and out of the relatively shallow Saginaw Bay from 1857-1930 when it was replaced by Gravelly Shoal Light. Thankfully, the lightkeepers house on Charity Island, which suffered a serious decline after the light was extinguished, has been rebuilt by private owners and is available for touring.

For us, East Tawas was a "tale of two cities." We loved the town and enjoyed watching their Independence Day parade. There must have been 4,000 people lining the streets of this small town! A bike trip to Tawas Point Lighthouse was rewarded by the opportunity to visit one of the best restored lighthouses yet. The marina in East Tawas is very good. The facilities are a long walk from the docks but, marina staff actually picked up the trash at our boat! "Just put your trash out in the morning," we were told. And, we did. On the other hand, our dining experiences in this place were awful. We didn't try the motel on the lakeshore, choosing instead to eat in town at the local pubs. A huge mistake. Our advice is to give the motel a try but plan to eat aboard!

Harrisville and Alpena were our next ports of call. Harrisville boasts a new marina, one of the best along this coast, and is an"active" town for its small size. Alpena is a stark contrast in many ways. It's a relatively large city for this coast, about 11,000. The marina facilities are adequate but the harbor was nearly empty. Alpena, it seems, is struggling to find its purpose in an era when lake transport is no longer "needed." They are, after all, an 8 nm trip up the bay from North Point. You need to want to go there. That said, the city continues to invest in its river walk and the NOAA museum is worth the walk from the marina, even in nasty, cold weather!

While in Alpena we met a cruising couple that gave us hope for our own sailing future. Well, maybe. Upon arrival, we were told by the marina staff that another Wisconsin sailboat was in the harbor. Sure enough, a couple was making the trip north up Lake Huron and then west on Lake Superior to Bayfield, Wisconsin. Catch was, they were coming from the British Virgin Islands! They had started their trip from Tortola about the same time we started our trip from Sandusky. And, they caught up with us! They stopped in Alpena for some repairs, fuel and to pick up crew. Their intent was to sail that night and clear the Soo locks the next day. Oh, did I mention that the Captain, Wayne, was in his 80s? While we didn't ask, we guessed his wife, Edy, was perhaps five years younger. A friend once told me that age was "between the ears." He was very much alive and in his late 80s at the time. Now, I know for certain what he meant. Godspeed, Wayne and Edy. May you sail together forever!

The trip north from Alpena to Presque Isle Harbor was one of the more interesting passages along this coast. The waters around Thunder Bay Island were confused, particularly with a north wind blowing, as they got "pinched" by the islands in the area. It's no wonder there were so many shipwrecks in the area. In a departure from our normal practice, we took the "inside" route, staying well west of the shipping lane, and only a mile or so off the coast. The trip was rough with the wind mostly on our nose in this confused waterway. In the end, we found that we had to head more offshore as we passed Middle Island due to the wind and wave action. On this day, the shipping lane may have been the better bet. Maybe it was put there, several miles offshore, for a reason. Hmmmm

Don't miss Presque Isle Harbor! This is one of the prettiest small harbors we've ever visited, anywhere. The marina facilities and the staff are excellent. Not much to do in the area except enjoy nature but its well worth an extra day or two. We were treated to a morning wake-up call by the loons in the area on a clear sunny day. What could be better?

Rogers City was a highlight for me. Passing the massive and still active Calcite dock just south of the city brought back memories of some of the great Lakers. Rogers City, of course, was home to many of the sailors lost on the Carl Bradley and the Cedarville. Lots of history (and ghosts?) in this town. In fact, their local museum is dedicated to the lake sailors and commercial shipping on the Great Lakes. Indeed, one of the Cedarville survivors was working in the museum the day we visited. You don't find that in every harbor town.

I find it interesting that the Cedarville tragedy gets so little attention, particularly relative to the Edmund Fitzgerald, the Bradley or the Morrell. After all, ten seamen died needlessly on that vessel on May 7, 1965. The Cedarville sank just east of the Mackinac Bridge after being struck in dense fog by a Norwegian flagged freighter, the Topdalsfjord. This story has intrigue. It's a story of poor judgements by sailors and management and a warning about the human and commercial dangers that sometimes accompany the drive (need?) to make money. For the full account of this Great Lakes tragedy read L Stephen Cox's "The Cedarville Conspiracy."

There were many wrecks along this lonely Lake Huron coast. Some are marked for divers to explore. Many were never found and have been forgotten. Most occurred at a time when water was the primary mode of transport in this area. When, in the late 1800s, creative people like Captain James Reid and Captain Ben Boutell struggled to keep the sawmills along this coast operating even as they ran out of local timber. (see: Barge Wahnapitae (US 8115) by Dr James M Reid in the Fall 2009 issue of Inland Seas for more information about this interesting time on Lake Huron). Today, freighters still run the middle of the lake from Port Huron to the Straits of Mackinac. The harbors, though, are now mostly for recreational cruisers. And the towns that support them are mostly struggling.

The pace of life along Lake Huron’s Michigan coast is laid back and slow. But don’t let that discourage you. Michigan’s “forgotten coast” is worth the trip if only for its history and undeveloped natural beauty. The water is clear and the people are friendly. And, we can almost promise that you won't need a harbor reservation.

The Straits of Mackinac

Things changed as we entered the storied Straits region. Cheboygan, Mackinaw City, Mackinac Island and St Ignace were busy with boaters and tourists, despite the unseasonably cool weather. (Are you getting the picture on the weather, yet?) We were excited and thankful to have dear friends and family, Julie and Lee Zebro, along for this portion of the trip.

Mackinac Island, in particular, was a treat for me because of its history. From the west, from Mackinaw City, she does indeed look like a turtle. Much of the island's European history is complements of the early French explorers, fur traders and the Jesuit fathers who came to “New France” to convert and "save" the Native Americans. The British history, which seems to be the focus in the area these days is much more recent and less interesting. Why, the Brits even screwed up the spelling of Mackinaw City so that it would coincide with the proper French pronunciation. But for the artifacts on display at St Anne de Michilimackinac on Mackinac Island (a must see!) and Father Marquette's gravesite at Marquette Mission Park in St Ignace, I found little of the early French history on display in the entire Straits region. That was disappointing. In the end, and despite their transgressions, I wish the French had won Canada....

European history in this area is both amazing and sad. The Mackinac Straits were, of course, the gateway to European settlement of the upper Great Lakes region. The French Jesuits had established a mission at La Pointe on Madeline Island in far western Lake Superior in the early 1660s. And that was 50 years after Etienne Brule had made his early exploratory trips across the region at the bequest of Samuel de Champlain, the French explorer who founded Quebec in 1608. These Europeans came to Lake Superior and Lake Michigan via the Straits. For decades, this area has a been gathering place; first for the Native Americans and then for the French, English and American fur traders. Battles were fought here between and among the Native Americans, the French, The English and, eventually, the upstart Americans. Along the way, an entire civilization was destroyed. No one, not even the Jesuit Brothers, stopped long enough to ask why so many of their "converts" were destined to early graves. While commercial shipping remains important to the area, this is now mostly a place for tourists to gather; a place to buy (and consume) fudge!

We crossed under the Mackinac Bridge and into Lake Michigan on July 21st shortly after sunrise. What a sight that was. What a thrill it was to be sailing in our new “home” waters.

The bridge does make a statement. It dominates the region just as, I imagine, Mackinac Island once did. She opened to traffic on November 1, 1957. Her history, though, traces to the late 1880s! (Recall that the Brooklyn Bridge was dedicated in 1883) The Directors of the Grand Hotel even spoke of a bridge in 1888. It would be a long time before circumstances and finances would be made available for the project. In 1953, investors came to the table and provided the almost $100 million needed for the project. She's big, over 5 miles long. And, she weighs over 1 million tons! Big Mac, as she is sometimes called, is the world's longest suspension bridge.

As we sailed under the bridge, we were met by about a dozen sailboats completing the 101st Chicago to Mackinac Island sailboat race. Little did we know then that in a few short hours we’d meet up with the rest of the fleet, over 100 boats, in the rather tight confines of Grey’s Reef passage. Most had spinnakers flying in a light southerly breeze. We did our best to stay out of their way as we were headed south through the passage and then west to Beaver Island. They were headed north and east to the bridge. We sailed the Mac race in the summer of 2009. The fact that we were headed the wrong way is just unnecessary detail. That’s our story and we’re sticking to it!

The Beaver Archipelago includes a number of islands in northeastern Lake Michigan. The largest are Hog Island, Garden Island, High Island and Beaver Island. Only Beaver Island has a permanent and year-round population.

Beaver Island is a special place. Located some 40 nm north and west of Charlevoix, Mi, it's also an isolated place; the most isolated of the populated islands in the entire Great Lakes.

Beaver Island is perhaps most remembered for the King Strang era, a time in the mid 1800s when Mormon leader James Jesse Strang was literally King on the island. The only monarch to ever govern in the United States, we're told. Strang's Mormon band was an off-shoot of the main group who followed Brigham Young west over the Rocky Mountains to the Great Salt Lake. Strang, claiming he had a letter from Mormon founder Joseph Smith, broke from Young's band and got himself declared Monarch on Beaver Island. From that perch, he sought, through established political institutions, to have all the Great Lakes islands declared for Mormon settlement. He ruled with an iron fist and believed in polygamy, but only for himself. His rein ended when he was murdered by two dissatisfied followers. It was clear who they were. Navy Officers even escorted them off the island and back to Mackinac Island where they were promptly released. They were never prosecuted. Imagine that.

The harbor on Beaver Island, sometimes called "Paradise Bay," is one of the most naturally beautiful on the Great Lakes. Almost Caribbean, but colder. It is well protected from all but southeast. The harbor has two perfectly adequate marinas and a large anchorage area. Its a place to push back and relax; read and ride bike if you must. There's not a lot more to do on the island. And, that's a good thing.

Lake Michigan's Northeastern Coast

We now understand why Great Lakes boaters love the harbors on the northwestern side of Michigan’s lower peninsula. Petoskey, Charlevoix, Northport, Leland, Frankfort, Arcadia, Manistee and Ludington are all terrific. (Well, okay, being prone to exaggeration when it comes to the Great Lakes, including Arcadia in this list might be a bit of a stretch.) The marinas are well maintained and have all the amenities. Unlike Michigan's Lake Huron coast, some of the "best" marinas in this region are privately owned and operated.

Deb even found it possible to shop some along this coast, particularly in Petoskey. (“Little Cincinnati” she called it…) Complements of friends from Cincinnati, we had a home cooked meal in Charlevoix and were even treated to a little culture on this leg of the trip. Don't miss the quaint Victorian community of Bay View just minutes from downtown Petoskey. The community sponsors a summer long program of educational and religious activities with a focus on the performing arts. We were treated to an outstanding concert delivered by a string trio (Time for Three) destined to make it "big."

We skipped Grand Traverse Bay on this trip. Can't do it all! At least, not the way we cruise! But, we did make a stop at Northport, on the northwest side of the Bay. We're glad we did. We had a delightful lunch with friends from Cincinnati upon arrival. It was quiet in Northport. The people there seem to like it that way. The harbor itself is wonderful. We'll go back....

The Lake Michigan coastline from Leland to Ludington is quite a treat. Sandy beaches and impressive dunes captivate one on this leg. Sleeping Bear dunes, just south of Leland and the Manitou Islands has to be 450 feet above the lake and more than a mile long on the coast. This coast is a must see and you must see it from the water!

Our final stop on the Michigan coast was Ludington, Mi. Great Lakes history buffs will recall that it was near present day Ludington that Father Marquette died at age 38 enroute to St Ignace following his 1674 trip to the Illinois Territory. This was just one year after his historic trip from Green Bay via the Fox and Wisconsin rivers to the Mississippi with Louis Joliet. When he died, his traveling companions buried him along the Lake Michigan coast and marked the grave. Two years later, they returned to that exact spot in the wilderness, said a prayer or two (I suppose), and then recovered Marquette's bones. (Honestly, Deb, they really did!) Those bones, Father Marquette's bones, were then re-buried at the St Ignace Mission Site where they rest peacefully to this day. And, I've got the pictures to prove it!

Ludington, like many of the ports along this coast, got its commercial start as a lumber port in the late 1800s. In 1897, the Flint & Pere Marquette (that name again!) Railroad constructed the first steel carferry to ship rail cargo across the lake to Manitowoc, WI. By the mid-1950s, Ludington had become the world’s largest carferry port. Interestingly, our home town of Kewaunee, Wisconsin, and our home port of Manitowoc, each about 50 nm across the lake, were the primary cross-lake destinations for carferries from Ludington and Frankfort, Mi.

Today, only the Badger remains in service. She's 410 feet long and was built in 1953. Her sister ship, the Spartan, built a year later, is moored in the Ludington harbor but has not operated for thirty years! The Badger still makes the run from Ludington to Manitowoc, WI, twice each day in season. She is a sight; something out of the past really, with her coal heated boilers and black smoke. People gather every day on both coasts to watch her arrive and leave. I am passionate about cleaning up our environment but more than willing to make this one exception! How about you? If so, write your Congressman!

We crossed Lake Michigan from Ludington to Manitowoc, Wisconsin, 52 nautical miles, on August 14th. We followed the Badger, actually. Well, sort of ... We did the trip in 7 ½ hours (the Badger does the trip in a little over 4 hours) in a 15-20 knot breeze out of the south; couldn’t have asked for more. It was fun to have my brother Steve along on this leg. He helps me with boat chores in the spring and fall but seldom gets to sail with us.

It was good to be home, of course. Ten weeks and 800 nm is a "summer trip" by almost any definition. But living aboard and traveling for an extended time in “new” and big water is special. There is a sense of adventure and accomplishment that isn’t easy to capture in other ways.

Besides, I knew we weren't finished for the season. We'd be sailing to/from Milwaukee with our good friends, Cindy and Paul Blase, in a few short weeks.

So, we’ll do it again.

We’re already making plans for the summer of 2010. I’ll make that trip from Manitowoc to Lake Superior’s Apostle Islands and back many times during the upcoming cold winter months.

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William Boehm is a recently retired business executive. He and his wife, Debbie, live in their timber frame home, Seul Choix, on a bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. They spend their summers aboard La Tasse, their Island Packet 380, exploring the Great Lakes. They are members of the Green Bay Yacht Club, the Great Lakes Cruising Club and Boat US

2008 Lake Erie & Lake Ontario

2008-12-31T07:05:00.000-08:00

I stood on the dock at Sandusky Harbor Marina (SHM). It was September 1, 2008. LaTasse, our 2000 Island Packet 380, was secure in her slip. Looking good. Not a scratch! We were home. We had done it!

This trip of approximately 1,000 nautical miles (1,250 statute) began on June 11, 2008 when Deb and I left our new Lake Michigan home just south of Kewaunee, Wi and headed south and east by car approximately 500 miles to Lake Erie's Sandusky Bay. The summer-long trip, our first, had been a dream of ours for many years. The entire trip would take us down the southern coast of Lake Erie to Buffalo, NY, then down the Welland Canal and into Lake Ontario. We'd circumnavigate Lake Ontario and eventually return traveling up the Welland and back to Sandusky.

We'd spent considerable time in the Spring of 2008 readying LaTasse for the trip. She was a "new" boat for us having been purchased in the Fall of 2007 and then trucked to Lake Erie. LaTasse spent the first eight years of her life in salt water on the Chesapeake Bay with periodic trips to the Bahama's and back. We put her in lake Erie's fresh waters on May 8th. No salt! We knew she'd love it. My brother Steve and I had spent six difficult and challenging days recommissioning in early May. It was a mistake not being there in the Fall of 2007 when she was prepared for the over-the-road transit. So much about this wonderful boat was new and different!

Deb and I arrived Sandusky about 4:30 pm on June 11. We still had work to do to make our planned departure on Saturday, the 14th. We provisioned, bought a TV (a Deb "requirement!") and got Stanley, our dingy, in her davits for the first time. We also replaced a faulty pressure release valve on the hot water heater but I'm not even going there....

Saturday June 14th started off overcast and cool but, as predicted, by noon the skies were clearing and the temperature was warming. Andrew and Emily (son and daughter-in-law) had arrived the night before as they were transiting with us on the first leg to Vermillion, Ohio and Chez Francois. Our kids seldom turn down a great meal, even if it means they have to go sailing to get it! At 1:00 pm, on schedule, June 14th, Deb slowly backed LaTasse out of her slip at SHM and into the marina fairway. We would not see those docks again until September 1, more than 11 weeks later.

Lake Erie's South Shore

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Sandusky Harbor Marina, Sandusky June 11-13 & Sept 1-3
Vermillion Yacht Club, Vermillion, June 14-15
Lakeside Yacht Club, Cleveland, June 16
Grand River Marine, Fairport Harbor, June 17-18
Astabula Yacht Club, Astabula, June 19 & August 26
Presque Isle Yacht Club, Erie, PA, June 20-23 & August 25
Chadwick Bay Marina, Dunkirk, NY, June 24 & August 24
Geneva State Park Marina, Geneva on the Lake, OH, August 27-28
Mentor Harbor Yachting Club, Mentor, Ohio, August 29
Edgewater Yacht Club, Cleveland, August 30
Spitzer's Lakeside Marina, Lorain, OH August 31
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The trip along Lake Erie's south shore from Sandusky to Buffalo, NY is approximately 235 nautical miles. We made the passage twice on this trip, both downbound and upbound. Along the way we would visit 11 different marinas/yacht clubs. The trip down to Buffalo took 13 days (June 14 - June 26). The trip back to Sandusky took just 9 days (August 24 - September 1).

On previous trips, we had traveled as far downbound as Ashtabula, Oh., about half the distance to Buffalo. Beyond Ashtabula, the ports and the navigation were all new to us.

Lake Erie's south shore is easy to navigate. Except for Avon Point, just north and west of Cleveland, and Presque Isle (Erie, Pa), navigation is nearly port-to-port. The harbors are well marked. Many are commercial harbors and have wonderful lighthouses and significant breakwall structures. That said, except for Vermillion, Oh, re-provisioning can be a challenge along this coast. We were fortunate to have our fold-up bikes on this leg of the trip!

Fairport Harbor is a favorite of ours along this coast. It's an industrial harbor to be sure (ships loading salt on the freshwater seas...), but they've done a nice job of making changes that entice cruisers. We particularly enjoy the two restaurants on the west side of Grand River, Pickle Bill's and Brennan's Fish House. Fairport is also the home of Tartan and C&C sailboats. They invite you to tour the factory and learn about these high quality boats. We stayed an extra day in Fairport. Not because it was planned but because the Algo Soo had the river blocked with her self unloading rig! This was not the last time we would see or hear about her on this trip...

We loved Erie, Pa and would recommend it as a port-of-call to anyone cruising this part of Lake Erie. We stayed at the Presque Isle Yacht Club both out and back. You won't find friendlier and more accommodating people anywhere. They love their club and are anxious to have you love it as well. We explored the town and the Presque Isle bay waterfront on our bikes. The Erie Maritime Museum is a must. You may even get to see the brig Niagara if she is in port. We had an even better treat meeting her as we left the harbor on June 24 and headed for Dunkirk, NY.

The coastline changes as you head northeast of Erie, Pa. The mostly flat shoreline begins to give way to the grand ranges of the Allegheny Mountains of Western NY. Quite a site from the water.
The 80 mile stretch from Erie to Buffalo has only one significant harbor, Dunkirk, NY. At best, Dunkirk is a stop-over. The owner of the Chadwick Bay Marina really tries. He's very accommodating and helpful. He just doesn't have much to work with. I could talk about the revival we "attended" while in Dunkirk harbor during the return trip (August 24) but I'd rather leave that story for another time. You really need a cold one to appreciate the story. Make it two!

Buffalo NY and the Niagara Region

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Erie Basin Marina, Buffalo, NY, June 26-28
Sugarloaf Marina, Port Colbourne, Ontario, June 29 & August 20
Port Dalhousie Pier Marina, Port Dalhousie, June 30-July 2 & August 15-19
Niagara on the Lake Sailing Club, NOTL, July 3-6
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We arrived Buffalo's Erie Basin Marina on June 26th. Mostly, we had motor-sailed from Sandusky to Buffalo as the winds were generally light (less than 10 knots) and on our stern. We love big city harbors with their skyscrapers and night lights. Big cities look so different from the cockpit of a sailboat.

This leg of the trip, which includes transiting the Welland, will be a lifelong memory. So much to see and do in this region. So much history: The Erie Canal with its western terminus at Talawanda and the monster locks at Lockport. The Niagara River and its Falls. Old Port Dalhousie. Niagara on the Lake with its flowers, restaurants and charm. And, of course, the Niagara wine country. What's not to like about the Niagara Region?

We particularly enjoyed having our family/friends, Julie and Lee Zebro join us for the trip "down" and our friends/family Paul and Cindy Blase join us on the trip back "up."

The Welland Canal is an engineering marvel. Its seven lift locks and one "guard" lock connect Lakes Erie and Ontario bypassing Niagara Falls. The Welland accommodates a drop of 326 feet over approximately 25 nautical miles. Each of it seven lift locks has a vertical lift of 46 1/2 feet. Those locks are concentrated on the Lake Ontario end of the canal over a distance of about 5 nautical miles. Downbound the Welland is a piece of cake, particularly when the weather is good and the wind is light. Its like draining water from a big bathtub with very little turbulence and little pressure on the boat. Upbound, its another story. Now, you're filling the bathtub (a roughly 900 foot x 80 foot x 50 foot cavity) with millions of gallons of water in just 15 minutes or so. There is considerable turbulence and lots of pressure as the water presses your hull against the lock wall. We did our homework. We protected our boat. We brought on extra crew (both directions). We did fine. Made it without a scratch. Sure, I'd do the Welland again. But, only if I had to!!!

Old Port Dalhousie was our first and last port-of-call on Lake Ontario. I wouldn't have it any other way. Port Dalhousie was the Lake Ontario terminus of the Welland Canal when it first opened in 1829. Despite creation of Port Weller in 1932, three miles to the east, Port Dalhousie retains its old world charm. Port Dalhousie is worth a stop and Port Dalhousie's Pier Marina is an accomodating port.

If you ever get a chance, explore the Niagara wine country, please. We love California, Napa and Sonoma, and we've done a bit in the south of France. But, we can't say enough nice things about the Niagara wine country. over about 2 1/2 days, one on bikes, we visited about a dozen vineyards. Bought wine at most of them; whites and reds. These typically small vineyards don't generally sell wines into the United States. They don't have to. You can, however, order their wines on the www from a Buffalo, NY distributor at http://www.thecuvee.com/. We particularly like the wines from Lailey, Henry of Pelham, Stonechurch, Chateau des Charmes, Rief and Strewn. Experiment a bit. If you love wine, you'll be glad you did.

And, don't miss Niagara on the Lake (NOTL). This charming old town at the mouth of the Niagara River is beaming with history. It was a focal point of the War of 1812 on Lake Ontario. Old Fort Niagara dominates the river mouth on the U.S. side with the English Fort George tucked inland a bit just south of the old city. All are great for sightseeing. Be prepared, however, to spend some money in the shops and restaurents. We did!

Toronto and Lake Ontario's North Coast

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Toronto Island Marina, Toronto, July 7-9

Royal Canadian Yacht Club, Toronto, July 10-12

Bluffers Park Marina, Bluffers Park, July 13
Port Whitby Marina, Whitby, July 14

Cobourg Marina, Cobourg, July 15-16

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The trip across Lake Ontario from NOTL to Toronto is just 27 nautical miles. In fact, on most days, we could see the Toronto skyline from both Port Dalhousie and NOTL. Despite the short distance, the water was deep; over 400 feet most of the trip. Coming from Lake Erie, the shallowest of the Great lakes, this was a new experience for us.

We stayed for nearly a full week in Toronto. On the Islands which form Toronto's natural harbor, we visited two marinas, Toronto Island Marina and the Royal Canadian Yacht Club. The city is accessible from the Islands by ferry boats which run regularly night and day. We explored the Islands by bike and the city by foot (mostly). Re-provisioning was easy in Toronto as the city-side harbor is loaded with shops and great restaurants. I even made a trip or two (might have been three) to Toronto's West Marine!

The RCYC is remarkable. It's huge with everything from competitive sailing and swimming to tennis and lawn bowling. I suspect they have over 500 sailboats in their extensive marina. On Saturday, July 13, Deb and I got all gussied up and enjoyed a sophisticated dinner in the Club's formal dining room. Jacket, long pants and shoes, no less! What a great way to end a visit to one of our favorite cities.

Along Lake Ontario's north coast, we visited three additional marinas (Bluffer's Park, Whitby and Cobourg). All are keepers in my view. But, Cobourg is a must. Its old world charm, flowers and modern, friendly and spacious marina reminded us of the best of both NOTL and Leamington, On. We'll always remember Cobourg as the place we cemented a friendship with Susan and Larry Ginsberg. This charming couple has been sailing for years from Toronto. Susan, like Deb, captains their boat. Like me, Larry's along for the ride! We would meet up with the Ginsberg's several more times on this trip.

The Bay of Quinite and the Loyalists!

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Brighton Bridge Wall, Murray Canal, July 17

Meyer's Pier Marina, Belleville, July 18-20

Tip of the Bay Marina, Picton, July 21-23

Loyalist Cove marina, Bath, July 24-25

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The Bay of Quinte, on Lake Ontario's northeast end is hard to describe. Actually, its a bit like Door County, Wi in that it's a land mass surrounded by lake water and connected to the mainland by a canal (ala Sturgeon Bay, Wi). Prince Edward County, like Door County, is a playland, a place where tourists gather. What's not to like about a place with names like Bath, Desronto, Picton Bay, Long Reach, Adolphus Reach and Prince Edward Bay? You can stare at a map of Lake Ontario and actually miss the fact that this "island" is separated from the mainland. We spent eight wonderful days exploring this roughly 65 nautical mile "inside" route. The marinas aren't great in the Bay, particularly at Picton, but the scenery is wonderful. It's peaceful in the Bay of Quinte.

Prince Edward County is "Loyalist" country. Just before, during and after the U.S. Revolutionary War, thousands of colonists migrated to Canada the northeastern end of Lake Ontario. They wanted to remain "loyal" to the King of England. Many businesses and public facilities (highways, for example) still refer to their loyalist history. The town marina in Bath is Loyalist Cove! The Union Jack is the predominant flag flying in "loyalist" country.

Kingston and Sackets Harbor

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Confederation Basin, Kingston, July 26-29

Navy Point Marina, Sackets Harbor, NY, July 30-31

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I'm a history buff. North American history in particular. I think the native American Indians got a raw deal. The so-called "savages" were murdered by those self-righteous Europeans carrying Bibles! All, in the name of God. In the name of God, how could they?

Oh, well, back to the story. You get the picture....

If you love North American history, you've got to visit Lake Ontario's east end! The St Lawrence River was, of course, the path the French took to explore the upper lakes (Huron, Michigan and Superior). Kingston, where the St Lawrence begins, was headquarters for the British navy during the War of 1812 ( read "Lords of the Lake" by Robert Malcomson). It was the capital of Canada until, fearing a U.S. invasion, the Crown moved the capital "inland" to Ottawa in the 1840s. The 125 mile Rideau canal, built to connect the new capital to Lake Ontario and Kingston, is now a major recreational waterway. Our Kingston marina, the Confederation Basin, had over 300 transient slips. They were full, with mostly different boats, every single night. Pre-paid reservations are a must.

We took a four-hour side trip on July 25th, via cruise boat, down the St Lawrence. The river is wide at Kingston, miles wide. The 1000 Islands region, in the river and about 20 nautical miles northeast of Kingston, is beautiful; even hard to describe. Its no wonder people spend their summers here.

Sackets Harbor, NY, about 40 nautical miles south and east of Kingston, was headquarters for the U.S. Navy during the War of 1812. It was an active naval base until the 1950s. The small, natural harbor is tucked behind Navy Point.

Our trip to Sackets Harbor on July 30th was rough, roughest of the entire summer. The wind, which normally blows from the southwest, was blowing hard from the south, southeast (the direction we bore...). On top of that, we had to fight the current and the waves created by all that water rushing around Wolfe Island to get to the St Lawrence. We were thankful we had La Tasse, our 13 ton Island Packet! Once we cleared the area around Kingston and the St Lawrence River things calmed down and we had an uneventful trip to Sackets Harbor.

Sackets Harbor is a small but very enjoyable port. The people there have worked hard to retain, and display, their history as an important naval base on the Great Lakes. We'll remember Sackets Harbor for two things. First, Deb put us on a short wall between two crowded docks with only inches to spare. No touch, no foul! Even got the pictures to prove it. Second, a great pizza and two bottles of $8/btl wine. It was "$2 Chuck" night at the local establishment!

We left Sackets Harbor on August 1. We left knowing that we should have spent more time on Lake Ontario's "eastern end."

Lake Ontario's South Shore

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Oswego Marina, Oswego, August 1

Katlynn Marine, Sodus Bay, August 2

Rochester Yacht Club, August 3-11

Four C's Marina, Point Breeze, August 12

Tuscarora Yacht Club, August 13-14

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The trip from Sackets Harbor to Oswego (approximately 45 nautical miles) was long but uneventful. The first leg of the trip, past Henderson Bay and Stony Point, is quite beautiful. It's what upstate New York ought to look like. Once past Stony Point we were out into the open waters of Mexico Bay. On that roughly 30 nm leg we were 8-10 miles off-shore most of the way. Still, believe it or not, my cell phone worked!

Oswego, NY is an old harbor city; at the mouth of the Oswego River. The river is part of the New York state canal system as its eight locks connect Lake Ontario to the Erie Canal. Lake Erie cruisers traveling to/from the Hudson River typically use the Oswego canal and the Welland in order to by-pass approximately 100 miles of the old Erie Canal. While Oswego Marina was quite adaquate, the town itself is not much more than a stop over.

Sodus Bay, on the other hand, is a keeper. A real keeper. The Bay itself deserves several days. The marina we used, Katlynn Marine, was one of the very best of the entire trip. The 30 nm passage from Oswego to Sodus Bay will be remembered as the only storm-sail of the summer. After missing several storms during July (Toronto's wettest July ever), our number finally came up. Not a lot of wind but boy did it rain! We were thankful for the dodger and biminy.

We sailed into the Genesee River and Rochester, NY on August 3, a Sunday. We had to wait a bit at the Rochester Yacht Club fuel dock as approximately 30 boats from the sailing club made their way back into the harbor. Our dock, which was to be La Tasse's "home" for a week, was hard to find and difficult to enter. But, after a bit of a struggle with the helm and some much appreciated help, Deb had us in the slip and secure. We got things ship-shape, called a cab, and headed for the airport in order to be with my Dad during his final days.

August 10, we were back on board. It was so good to be back. As an added treat we enjoyed dinner with a good friend from Sandusky Yacht Club, Dave Smith. Dave was on his way, via the Oswego canal and the Hudson River, the Atlantic and ports south. I was at peace for the first time in a month. Dad was gone from this world but he was in a much better place. We both looked forward to completing our trip.

We visited two additional harbors on the way back to Port Dalhousie, Point Breeze and Wilson. Both were surprisingly wonderful. In Wilson, we stayed at the Tuscarora Yacht Club which was situated on a small island in the Tuscarora River. Wilson is a small river town but there's lot to do in the harbor. Wilson was a fitting "last harbor" on our circumnavigation of Lake Ontario.

A Tribute to Hubert Boehm, my Father

Hubert L Boehm lived a wonderful, full life. He passed away August 6, 2008 at approximately 7:30 am. He was 86.

Dad's health had not been good for a couple of years. He was not good when Deb and I saw him in late May 2008. He had bounced back before. He would do it again. We were especially encouraged when he was allowed to leave the nursing home in late June and return to his apartment with Mom at the Renaissance Center . We hoped for the best.

While we were in the Bay of Quinte things began to deteriorate quickly for Dad. Even then, it seemed he would last the summer. At least, I hoped he would as one has limited mobility when traveling aboard a sailboat 1,000 miles from home. We shortened the trip and began to work our way toward Rochester, NY and an airport. By the time we were in Sackets Harbor, it was obvious that the end was near.

We decided to sail the remaining 100 nautical miles to Rochester in three days without regard to the weather. For Deb and me, that's pushing it. Thankfully, the weather cooperated, mostly. We made it home before Dad passed. I was there when he took his last breath. What a wonderful gift.

Hubert Boehm gave me a lot. He loved me. That's big these days. He gave me a work ethic and the determination to do whatever it took to be successful. He showed me that it was okay for men to be emotional, even cry (we Boehm men do that a lot!). He demonstrated that a formal education was a luxury; that intelligence and common sense are gifts from God.

I miss my Dad, of course. But, Hubert Boehm is now in a better place where he can watch over his "sailor" of a son. God speed. Fair winds.