Edmund Fitzgerald and Whitefish Bay

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
of the big lake they called "Gitche Gumee."
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
when the skies of November turn gloomy.
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty,
that good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
when the "Gales of November" came early.

The ship was the pride of the American side
coming back from some mill in Wisconsin.
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
with a crew and good captain well seasoned,
concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
when they left fully loaded for Cleveland.
And later that night when the ship's bell rang,
could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
and a wave broke over the railing.
And ev'ry man knew, as the captain did too
'twas the witch of November come stealin'.
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
when the Gales of November came slashin'.
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
in the face of a hurricane west wind.

When suppertime came the old cook came on deck
Sayin' "Fellas, it's too rough t'feed ya."
At seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in; he said,
"Fellas, it's bin good t'know ya!"
The captain wired in he had water comin' in
and the good ship and crew was in peril.
And later that night when 'is lights went outta sight
came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does any one know where the love of God goes
when the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
if they'd put fifteen more miles behind 'er.
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
they may have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
in the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;
the islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
with the Gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
in the "Maritime Sailors' Cathedral."
The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times
for each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
of the big lake they call "Gitche Gumee."
"Superior," they said, "never gives up her dead
when the gales of November come early!"

     --Gordon Lightfoot,                               

"The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald"

Today we explored the eastern end of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan -- primarily the area around Whitefish Bay.  We knew that Whitefish Point houses the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum, where exhibits and memorials about the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald, is located at Whitefish Point, but little did we know when we started our day's journey how powerful the museum and exhibits would be.

We started from our campground in Newberry, Michigan.  Only about 25 miles northeast of Newberry you can find the Tahquamenon Falls.  There are actually two sets of falls, the Upper and Lower falls.  The Lower Tahquamenon Falls consist of two separate falls on branches of the Tahquamenon River.  While they are gorgeous, they pale in comparison to the Upper Falls, which we visited:

We took our walk to the falls after having lunch at the Tahquamenon Falls Brewery, which is located adjacent to the parking lot for the falls.  This juxtaposition has an interesting history.  The grandparents of the current owners, who had lived in Newberry, where we are camped, loved taking canoe trips up the Tahquamenon River.  Eventually, they hit the falls, where they had to portage.  But their trips gave them access to these beautiful falls, which, at that time in the mid-20th Century, were only accessible by paddling the river.

At that time, the land around the falls was owned by a logging company, which had constructed Camp 33 at the Upper Falls.  After the area had been logged, the grandparents, being taken with the falls, purchased a large piece of land including the falls and the logging camp.  They rebuilt the camp and donated the land around the falls to the State of Michigan for a state park.  On the adjoining land they built a restaurant, which has occupied the site since 1950.  In recent years, their grandchildren added the brewery, and we can attest that they brew some very tasty beers.

After a hearty lunch and beer, we hiked out to the Upper Falls. The water flows over the precipice in brown, yellow and white bands, as you can see in this video of Upper Tahquamenon Falls.  The brown and yellow color derives from the tannins leached from the cedar swamps which the river drains. The Upper Falls are more than 200 feet across and with a drop of approximately 48 feet.  The upper falls are the third most voluminous vertical waterfall east of the Mississippi River, after Niagara Falls and Cohoes Falls.  As you can hear in the video linked above, the Upper Falls have a roar that is much louder than you would expect, because the volume of water flowing over it is so huge.

Before driving to Whitefish Point, which was our main goal, we took a side trip to Iroquois Point, where we wanted to see the Point Iroquois Lighthouse.

On our way to Iroquois Point, we discovered the Dancing Crane Coffee Shop in Brimley, part of the Bay Mills Indian Community of the Ojibwa tribe.  It is known to them as Gnoozhekaaning (Place of the Pike), and is an Indian reservation southwest of Sault Ste. Marie, forming the land base of one of the many Sault Ste. Marie bands of Chippewa (aka Ojibwa) Indians.  Dancing Crane Coffee Shop appears to be owned and managed by local tribal members.  In addition to roasting and serving its own very excellent coffee, it sells crafts made by members of the local community.

We would have liked to pause longer to get to know the community better, because it seems to be so thriving and positive.  However, we still had two lighthouses and a shipwreck museum to visit.

Just beyond Brimley, we came to the Point Iroquois Light:

The museum was closed, but we could take a self-guided tour through the lighthousekeeper's residence and climb the stairs of the lighthouse, from which we had an expansive view of Whitefish Bay:

We drove further along Whitefish Bay, traveling along the Whitefish Bay National Forest Scenic Byway.  Periodically, we came across roadside parks with paths out to the lakeshore offering views of the Bay and shoreline:

Turning north out Whitefish Point, we made our way toward the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum.  Along the way, we found that nearly every little lakeside cottage between the road and the lake had it own unique little identifying signs.  Some had named that were variations on the name, "Paradise," which is the local town.  Others used interesting flotsam and jetsam to create artistic house signs.  Yet others simply emphasized the quirky.

At the end of the road we came to the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum, which includes the Whitefish Point Light.  The Whitefish Point Light is the oldest operating light on Lake Superior. It is arguably the most important light on Lake Superior. All vessels entering and leaving Lake Superior must pass the light. It stands on the treacherous southern shoreline of Lake Superior known as the "Graveyard of the Great Lakes" in an area with more shipwrecks than any other area of the lake.

 The current structure, while modern looking, is a Civil War relic. Built in 1861 and commissioned by the authority of President Abraham Lincoln because of the importance of the Great Lakes iron ore trade to the Union cause in the Civil War, the lighthouse was state of the art at its time.  Its iron skeletal steel framework was designed to relieve stress caused by high winds.

The Great Lakes have seen over 6,000 shipwrecks in the years of European occupation, and many have been near Whitefish Point, which has dangerous shoals.  The Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum memorializes a number of shipwrecks, but gives special emphasis to the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald and the loss of its 29 crew members.

Gordon Lightfoot's song, quoted above, is unexpectedly accurate in its description of the tragedy.  Experts still do not know why the vessel sank.  It was the largest and most modern of the ships plying the Great Lakes of the time.  An analogy to the Titanic comes to mind, but in this case there is no evidence of negligence on the part of the shipbuilders or crew.  All that is known is that the ship broke in two on the surface after enduring some of the heaviest gale winds in memory at the time.  Some suspect that two rogue waves may have stressed the fully loaded ship to its breaking point.

In any event, in 1995, 20 years after the 1975 tragedy, Canadian dive ships undertook an expedition to retrieve the ship's bell, and the Province of Ontario gifted the bell to the State of Michigan for display at the museum.  In its place, the divers installed a brass bell on the lakebed at the wreck site, bearing the names of the deceased sailors.

Canada handled the recovery of the bell because the ship sank in Canadian waters.  Afterward, Canada paid for a memorial to the crew and ship, which can be seen on the museum site:

Beyond the museum at Whitefish Point, visitors can walk to the beach, imagine the many ships that foundered in the area, rockhound along the stony beach, or simply admire the beauty of the lighthouse:

The remnants of piers still stand in the waters at the point.  They almost seem to be standing in remembrance of the many souls that have died in shipwrecks on Lake Superior:

We left the museum and headed home, sobered by what we learned of the dangers facing those who have sailed the Great Lakes.  We have learned to appreciate how significant a role fishing and sailing on the Great Lakes has played in the lives of people on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, as well as along both the U.S. and Canadian shores of the Great Lakes.  This seemed like a fitting way to cap off our visit to the eastern end of the Upper Peninsula.