| Travels of Dursmirg Vol. 1 Chapter 5 |
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CHAPTER FIVE DURSMIRG LEAVES WISCONSIN, NOT TO RETURN
August 18th 1972 Jane and I were up before the sun on a suspiciously quiet, calm and warm morning. We were the
only ones awake at that hour and the serenity was something we didn’t want to break.
Our preparations for departure were made as we cranked the engine, inspected the gauges, and made the
appropriate entries into our logbook.
As we slipped the mooring lines, reversed the engine and maneuvered our way out of the little boat harbor at Port
Superior Village Marina, in Bayfield, Wisconsin, our home of two weeks, we were greeted with a sunrise red as fire
reflecting across “Gitche Gu’mee, the Big Sea Waters”, of Lake Superior. (“Red skies in the morning, sailors take
warning”).
This was a monumental moment with lingering and reminiscent memories of dreams my father related to me as a
child of his desire to one day venture by boat across these mighty Great Lake waters, a dream never fulfilled.
Jane and I were now definitely venturing forth to fulfill our dreams that at times seemed more challenging and
daunting than climbing the tallest mountains.
Our next challenge we looked squarely in the face. As I surveyed the waters extending before us that went far off to
the distant horizon and beyond, my mind couldn’t help but reflect upon the poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
“The Song of Hiawatha”, and the hauntingly beautiful words of “Gitche Gu’mee the Big Sea Waters” of this greatest
of the Great Lakes, Superior, which we were about to attempt to cross in our home made creation the “Dursmirg”.
Lake Superior is 604 feet above sea level; the biggest and highest of all of the Great Lakes that border Canada and
collectively form the largest body of fresh water in the world with 94,700 square miles. Beginning at 92 degrees west
Longitude, Lake Superior forms the western terminus of the huge and prolonged waterway of the Saint Lawrence
that extends easterly to the North Atlantic Ocean and all of the seaports of the world.
Over the years Jane and I would traverse all of these lakes, waterways, connecting rivers and pass through each
and every one of the connecting locks plus the entire Erie Canal System.
As we passed the southern end of Madeline Island, we said goodbye to Wisconsin and any sight of land as a heavy
fog set in and we were alone in an eerie world. We had the good fortune of getting a reliable compass departure
bearing before the fog engulfed us and that was all we would have for many hours to come because the fog was so
thick the bow of the boat was as far as we could see. Several times during this long day we heard the sound of fog
horns from passing lake freighters but we never caught the slightest glimpse of them though we strained our eyes
into that gray engulfing shroud that isolated us in the small world of our 46 foot boat. Now our boat seemed to shrink
in size when put out upon this largest fresh water lake in the world.
With our navigation we had plotted our position and determined that we were that afternoon off the north shore of
Michigan and should be within sight of it. Jane and I strained our eyes late into that afternoon fog and I told her to
look up at the strange dark clouds off our starboard bow. These were the tops of the Porcupine Mountains! It would
be a couple of hours before we would be able to see the shoreline because of the pervasive thick fog that
stubbornly clung on.
The harbor of Ontonagon peeped through the glimmers of late afternoon sunshine we were on course and on time.
Before we arrived at the harbor entrance we were greeted by the strange sight of flotsam in the form of trees, logs
and a wide variety of miscellaneous things that gave the appearance of a garbage barge discharge. We wound up
giving this mysterious hodge-podge of floating debris a wide berth that added an extra five miles to our trip.
When we arrived at dockside that afternoon we were told of what had caused that strange collection of debris we
encountered offshore. It turns out that a torrential rainstorm had flooded the Area Rivers far past flood stage and as
a consequence flushed the riverbanks clean of debris and caused devastating damage.
Dinner that night would be at one of our favorite places in this part of the country that had a famous specialty. The
little downtown diner in Ontonagon had the best “Pasties” we have ever eaten and the area residents drive from far
and wide to sample them. A strange thing we have always noticed on our visits was that you didn’t have to place an
order when you sat down to eat…your pasties were just delivered hot to you and then only the question of what you
might wanted to drink. As usual they were terrific and worth the trip.
***
At last we had made our escape from our work-a-day world and liquidated everything we couldn’t pack aboard our
vessel. As it was we had a twelve-foot boat, a seventeen-foot canoe, two outboard motors, our bicycles, a
mountainous store of food and enough books to keep us reading for at least a year. This would be our first night out
of state and the reality of our departure was beginning to be felt by both of us as we walked the streets of this little
town and didn’t know anyone.
Postcard that Jane sent to her parents:
8/18/72
We left Bayfield this morning at 6AM and got here at 6PM. Had a good trip but couldn’t see anything until we got to
the Porcupine Mountains. We will head for Houghton tomorrow if the weather’s nice. Hi to everyone. Jane and Bing
August 19th, 1972 This morning as we were making our preparations to depart the dock at Ontonagon, we had to
take extra care because of the swift running current. From our Power Squadron lessons we had learned the proper
sequence of casting off dock lines. As Jane was aboard with the engine running and warmed up I passed her the
lines one at a time until the last and crucial spring line was ready to hand onboard. At this point time was of the
essence because of the swift running current that was sending torrents of water boiling past and would carry our
vessel away like a cork in the rapids. Would you believe this, there was a bystander on the dock and he persisted in
blocking my boarding the boat. Each time I attempted to get aboard he moved in the same direction I went and away
went my wife and our boat; they were being swept out the harbor entrance to the lake. This was Jane’s first time at
the controls of the boat and she was completely on her own. The only option for her was to take the boat all of the
way out to the lake, turn it around there out of the fast current and confines of the river and return.
She is an amazing person and had more book learning regarding boat handling than almost any one I knew but this
was her first time at the controls and her first time at docking our 20 ton vessel. This would be a real test of even a
seasoned sailor but I know that her hands were slightly shaking as she brought the boat up through those torrents
of current and had to dock.
Jane did a perfect job and I was very proud of her abilities. I was very happy and proud as I stepped aboard and
congratulated her on a job well done.
Oh, by the way!
Over the years we would have experience with boats over 100 tons and Jane proved her competence with them. I
was always amazed at my little Jane maneuvering one of those 128-ton Desco trawlers by herself on boat deliveries
that we made in the following years.
*
We were back in the lake and headed easterly to a canal that traverses the Keweenaw peninsula of Upper Michigan
and cuts many miles off the cross Lake Superior voyage.
Our weather was good but we were accustomed to boating with at least small craft warnings and if you were going to
boat on Lake Superior that was just about the best you could hope for. Because of the unpredictable weather and
unpredictability of storms that spring up so fast that escape is seldom an option you must be prepared to ride out
treacherous weather that many times will founder the Great Lakes freighters of 800 to a thousand feet in length.
The water depth is so great at most places that anchoring isn’t even an option though it would be hellacious to
contemplate swinging at anchor in the open lake during one of its frequent, very violent and unforgiving storms.
Because of these conditions finding a safe harbor for the night is imperative.
Lake Superior is surrounded by the states of Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota and the Province of Ontario in
Canada. Almost exclusively these shores are lined by wilderness and the few small towns along the way are quiet,
forlorn little outposts far off from the main highways. The long brutal winters have kept the place from becoming too
populated. From Lake Superior it is only two hundred miles north to frozen permafrost and in Upper Michigan the
annual snowfall is more than two hundred inches. When traveling around the Upper Peninsula of Michigan it soon
becomes apparent that heavy snowfall is common when you see the two story homes with very steep pointed roofs
to shed the snow and opening upper windows so that the homes can be accessed in winter over the huge
snowdrifts. The only significant population center on the entire lake is at its western end where the Twin Ports of
Duluth, Minnesota and Superior, Wisconsin have a combined population of around one hundred thousand people.
By 3:40 PM we were entering the Houghton-Hancock canal and the entry in the logbook that afternoon read, “Clear
and hot”, which is a very rare thing in this part of the country.
At 5:40 we had gone under the one big bridge we had to open to traverse the canal and it opened to its full height of
85 feet after I signaled it a second time, we then tied dockside at the municipal dock in downtown Houghton,
Michigan.
The town at that time was a small out of the way place that has a state university that specialized in mining related
degrees plus there were several bars that cater to the students. The area used to be the center of an extensive
mining industry that extracted copper, silver and iron ore. These days the mining has all ceased and other than
some lumber related business nothing except university degrees are produced here.
Jane and I walked out to find some place to have dinner and explore the town on foot as we were docked right in the
city center.
When we returned to the boat after dark we were surprised to find some man trying to break into our boat through
the main companionway hatch. I immediately sprang into action and apprehended the scoundrel and pitched him
overboard. This would be something we would find happening often when we were tied dockside and eventually we
discovered that we would sleep better if we were able to anchor out where only boaters could get to us.
It is too easy for dock walkers to just step aboard and my second thoughts about this incident made me think that I
should have put the attempted burglar overboard on the water side not the dockside. In later years we discovered
that we would have to protect out boat at gun point especially in Florida.
August 20th, 1972 was a bright and windy day and we would have the treat of boating across this lovely wooded
canal along with the big lake freighters heavily laden with iron ore. There was a slight feel of autumn in the air and
here and there you could see the first signs of autumn leaves that had started their change of color. This canal didn’
t resemble a canal at all because it was merely cut through the woods and seemed to meander as it went and even
passed through a good sized lake on its way.
Our destination this evening would be the small town of Portage, Michigan at the eastern end of the Houghton-
Hancock Canal where we tied directly to the US Army Corp of Engineers dock. All across the Great Lakes these
Corp of Engineer docks were open for free public use and we never found any competition for dockage at any of
them.
Jane and I were enjoying the tranquility and solitude of this North-Woods outpost when some fishermen came along
to talk and then one of the residents came down to find out what we were doing and where we were going.
After we gave a brief account of our trip here and our upcoming plans he invited us to his home for a steak dinner,
and we accepted.
It turned out that he was a policeman from the Detroit area and only came up to his cabin here for vacations and to
getaway.
He had two German Shepard dogs that he kept chained up and trained to be vicious attack dogs. I made the
mistake of befriending one of the dogs that eventually began to quit its attack mode and wag its tail in a friendly
manner. Well, the owner then shot the dog because he said he didn’t need a dog that wouldn’t attack all strangers.
Other than that incident we managed to have a pleasant evening but Jane and I both agreed that we wouldn’t be
cultivating the friendship of anyone that treated animals in that fashion.
All the time we had been in the protected waters of the Houghton-Hancock canal a very strong windstorm had been
blowing and kicking up the waves of Lake Superior. This “Great Lake” is not at all like the ocean with respect to its
waves. On the open ocean with a windstorm the waves build into swells and like upon the Pacific Ocean those swells
can be so big and far apart crest to crest that they are not even noticeable unless you can watch a distant object
like another vessel. I have seen this wave action that resembles an optical illusion. The water surface appears calm
because the waves are so far apart and then you watch a distant ship appear and then disappear before your eyes
merely rising and falling within that huge rolling sea.
August 23rd we cleared the entry at Portage, Michigan and headed out into Lake Superior at 6:10 AM with clear
skies on a cold day and a light breeze blowing. We had expected that because the windstorm had passed that the
seas would have subsided.
On the radio that morning there was news of a large tow boat and barge that were lost trying to round the point of
the Keweenaw Peninsula near the town of Copper Harbor on the northern tip of the peninsula and we were happy
that it was not our boat lost that night. By crossing the Houghton-Hancock canal we avoided the open lake and also
had the protection of that inland passage…yes we were happy for that reprieve.
We had to put up sail to steady the boat against the huge seas that rocked the boat violently even though there
wasn’t enough wind to sail by. Every vessel has a sea size and fetch of waves that make that boat ride miserably
and we had just the size and pitch of sea for that condition.
The shore line we would follow this day was not only very treacherous with its countless outcroppings of jagged rock
but there was absolutely no place to take refuge or anchor all of the way to our next port of call, Marquette. Jane
made fourteen navigational fixes of our position this day because it was absolutely imperative that our course did
not stray to that unforgiving rocky coast.
Upon studying the chart it was clear that we were now passing along one of the most desolate places in North
America. No roads or settlements, just the wild of the Northwood’s all the way to Marquette.
The seas made this ride very difficult because we were caught in a beam sea that rolled our vessel just about out of
control even though we had sail up to help steady us. Just hanging on was a gigantic job and Jane preformed
miracles with her work at the chart table and also supplying me with my coffee and “eats”.
At 10:30 that morning our engine mysteriously quit and only the sound of flapping sails and sloshing seas were
there with us. Yes, I did become alarmed because we were in a place that was now very vulnerable and totally at the
mercy of the elements… if only we had enough wind to sail.
It took Jane several minutes to tell me what had happened because I had become totally distracted and very
concerned about our perilous state.
When she could finally get my attention she told of seeing a box fly from our galley cupboard that had flipped open
and then that box took a trip across the entire boat and headed into the bilge near the engine. That was when the
engine stopped without even a whimper.
In those rolling seas movement aboard was challenging to say the least but I managed to get down to the engine
room to examine the cause of our present engine failure. Because of the fact that I had done the complete
installation and hook up plus designed and fabricated many of the systems including the exhaust, cooling and shaft
packing systems, to mention a few, I could quickly troubleshoot the entire system.
The mystery was quickly solved. That food box that went to the engine room via the bilge took a devious path that
we could not recreate but nonetheless on its way it inadvertently bounced off something and managed to hit the
emergency engine shut off located up under the air cleaner and completely out of sight and almost unreachable.
Due to its design it is made to spring shut like a mousetrap when tripped. Well, we proved that it was fully
operational and very affective at shutting the engine down. It turns out that as these Detroit Diesel engines age and
loosen up they had a tendency to suck lube oil from the crankcase and run on it. The result would become
catastrophic when the engine would begin to pick up speed and would ultimately attain such a high RPM that the
engine would than latterly fly to pieces. The engineers at General Motors soon discovered that the only way to stop
one of these “run-a-way engines” was to seal off the air intake completely when this condition occurred, and thus
this “mouse trap” shut off in the intake manifold.
Oh, by the way!
Some years later a dear friend of ours, George Tappin, that spent much of his life running these two cycle Detroit
Engines on his commercial fishing trawlers told of one of his engines “running away”. He told how he desperately
tried to stop it by stuffing the air intake with everything in sight and how that stubborn engine refused to quit as it
pulled rags, old mops and even his clothing right through the engine and then up the exhaust stack where it all
came out in flames and a shower of sparks.
Back to our emergency shut off; I only had to depress the spring-loaded shutoff and it snapped the damper plate
in the intake open and the engine was ready to spring back into operation just like nothing had ever happened.
Well, that is just what I did and we were again under way.
At 4:15 PM that afternoon we were examining a place to dock at Marquette, Michigan.
We attempted to enter a small marina there but the approach was just too shallow for our six-foot two-inch draft and
we backed out to look elsewhere. We spotted an oil company terminal dock nearby that was vacant and tied there; it
was near the downtown section of town.
In a few minutes we had visitors. First we were paid a visit by the manager of the nearby marina that insisted that we
must come and give him our dockage business. He proved to be extremely persistent. We explained that we were
absolutely unable to maneuver into his shallow entry channel. He finally went off muttering to himself and just
somehow couldn’t or wouldn’t come to grips with that reality.
Shortly we were paid another visit and this time it was by the owner of the petroleum company whose dock we were
now tied to. John Magill, the owner was a real gentleman and you could tell that he was in charge of his company.
John asked us what we were doing at his dock and we told him how we had tried to get into the marina but couldn’t.
And that his dock looked like a likely place to tie up as his dock stood vacant at that time.
We invited John aboard and we all went inside to relax and converse. He wanted to hear our story and our plans.
We became friends quickly and the next thing that Jane and I knew we were invited out to his home for dinner and
drinks followed by the hottest sauna we had ever taken.
John Magill, the owner of the dock we were tied to, had one request of us while we were at his dock and that was to
move our boat when the petroleum tanker from Superior, Wisconsin came in to discharge fuel oil and gasoline.
We merely moved our boat around to the end section of the dock and away from the slip where the then
approaching tanker was about to pull in.
Next we were treated to a spectacular chain of events that unfolded before our eyes. It was much like a well-trained
circus event. What happened next was definitely spectacular. This heavily laden tanker approached the dock at
approximately five knots of forward speed and at the moment that the bow of the boat was just about abeam the end
of the dock a young man jumped from high up in the rigging of the vessel. He was at the end of a rope attached to a
long pivotal swinging arm that was simultaneously being swung outboard of the boat so that as this young man
swung through the air he also traveled out over the dock and like a parachute trooper hit the ground running. Next a
heaving line was slung to him which he quickly and efficiently retrieved and then dropped the heavy steel cable that
the heaving line was attached to over one of the large mooring bollards on the dock and then ran at high speed
down the dock to repeat the same procedure over again with the second steel cable docking line. As soon as the
cables were made fast the onboard crew quickly dogged down the brakes on the huge mooring winches and they
then let out loud screeches and smoked as the this heavily laden vessel was slowed to a stop like a lassoed bull
being brought to the ground in a cloud of dust. The vessel no sooner was tied dockside and the crew slung another
boom crane overboard and this one hoisted a rubber hose that was about ten inches in diameter with a sizeable
metal flange attached to its end. John Magill was waiting dockside with his crew that then joined the rubber hose
from the boat to the one at dockside. This process was well practiced as we could see from the way it was
preformed. Because of the shear size of these hoses they were totally unmanageable by hand and had to be
brought together with the force of winches. The two flanged mating surfaces were aligned with a tapered pin so that
the first of twenty or so bolts could be inserted to bring them tightly together. In two minutes these crews had the
hose firmly tightened and the signal to commence discharge of the cargo was given. I should add that no one was
permitted on that dock during this procedure except the work crew and no smoking signs had been placed all up
and down the entire dock. Jane and I were so amazed by this performance that we had lots of questions for John
Magill and the first one was; “does the line handler ever miss his cue to secure the dock lines?” Then John told of
the previous spring when the first tanker of the season came in and was going too fast plus the line handler was
unable to do his job so the net outcome was that the tanker took a trip up onto the beach and had to be unloaded
from there.
Photo of our boat, Dursmirg, Jane in the companionway, John Magill on the dock and the tanker ship in
the background unloading.
Over the next four days Jane and I had the time of our lives and got to do lots of exploring on our bicycles around
the area. This wasn’t our first stop here as in 1966 we had visited the town and spent a night at one of the loveliest
places we could ever remember just north of town, a place called Presque Isle Park. In. That trip was a nine day
driving trip that we made around the entire lake and with a side trip to Niagara Falls. Our stop over at Presque Isle
Park had been quite by accident because we were only looking for a quiet and secluded spot to pitch our tent for
the night and found this loveliest of places where it turned out we were the only ones there on a full moonlit night.
What made it so memorable was the fact that as the sun was slipping away in the west out over the “Big Sea
Waters” the huge and full moon simultaneously rose up to the east out of “Gitche Gu’mee” and we were camped
on a small island that we were able to wade to and cooked our evening meal over an open campfire right on the
beach…it was our special place in time and we knew that that moment would never be able to be recreated so we
hold it in our treasured memories.
August 27th, 1972 we departed Marquette, Michigan after four wonderful and very pleasurable days that John
Magill had helped turn into one of our very favorite memories of a special place that only comes at a special time in
your life when all things are just right and you are ready to enjoy it to the fullest.
At 7:59 AM that morning we cast off our dock lines and departed. The day was overcast and soon became foggy as
we traveled on our easterly course. It was reassuring that Jane was such an exact and precise navigator because
we were soon in the thickest of fog. We were almost to the shore of an island called “Grand”, which is ten miles long
before we were able to see its shoreline that we followed into the harbor of Munising, Michigan.
We were docked at the city dock by 3:25 PM. Our first visitors were a group of the local teenager boys that had lots
of questions and seemed to be an unruly bunch to say the least. Well, they got quiet and next our boat made a loud
and shocking crash into the cement break-wall we were tied to. The young hooligans wanted to play a prank on us
and untied all of the fenders we used to fend off the vessel when docking. Our fenders were all gone to the bottom
and we didn’t see any humor in their prank.
Our next visitor got an ear full of our feelings toward the local pranksters and felt so bad that he returned a short
time later with a truck load of tires that we could use for fenders and an apology for the behavior of the kids. We
accepted his apology and from that point forward had no further problems there.
August 28th, 1972 at 7:35 we left the Munising public dock on a bright and breezy morning on our way to White
Fish Point, Michigan a port some 92 nautical miles to the east with no harbors or refuge ports for the entire distance.
The Harbor of Munising was very well protected from the ravages of the Lake Superior storms, as we were soon to
find out.
On our way out into the big lake we would now pass on the easterly side of the big island named “Grand Island”, that
gave its protected leeward side to protect the harbor that we had complacently just left.
At 8:10 that morning we had a fix of our position abeam the Grand Island bell buoy and the comment in the logbook
said “very windy and building”.
We continued on and by 9AM we encountered seas that were bigger than we needed to be in especially when we
considered the fact that our voyage ahead would take us through open and totally unprotected waters. A wind shift
would make life for us very miserable to say the least especially because we could be exposed to a trip that could be
easily tripled in time of passage. A reluctant decision was made to return to the protection of the port we had just
left. This would be our first and only return to port for our entire trip due to weather conditions.
In the mounting seas I made the 180-degree turn into the on coming waves. Jane and I were astonished as we
quickly slipped down into the oncoming trough and the bow of our vessel crashed into the bottom of that wave with a
resounding crash that brought our vessel to a shuttering halt that threw a wall of water more than a hundred feet in
both directions at the same time. Yes, we were happy we made the decision to return to that quiet and tranquil spot
at dockside to let the wind blow its furry out…we would try again the following day.
At 10:00 AM that morning we were again docked at the public dock and happy to be there.
We had no problem finding many diversions. We went sight-seeing by bicycle and when all else failed we had plenty
of projects aboard the boat which included installing the many items we had not had time to get to in our hurried
escape.
August 29th we were cast off from the dock at 7:55 AM and headed out back into the “Big Sea Waters” of that big
lake that just the day before had beat us back into the protection of the harbor. This day was clear and cool with a
light northwest breeze that wasn’t enough to fill our sails but the sea was down to a gentle rolling swell as we passed
bell buoy number “3” at Grand Island and made our departure turn on an easterly course.
This area is where the sightseeing boat takes the tourists to view the local attraction called the “Pictured Rocks”.
Well we got to see them up close as we made our venture out into the lake and they were definitely worth the trip
out. At 8:55 that morning we had the “Sail Rock” abeam our course. It is a very prominent landmark. We were happy
for the easy going seas even though we didn’t have enough wind to assist in our sailing and needed our engine that
entire day, which would be a long one that was to be ninety plus miles of open water.
In many of the local tourist traps postcards featuring these unique rock formations are sold.
The “Au Sable” lighthouse and the “Grand Au Sable Dunes” are pictured above.
As Jane and I passed this very isolated and forlorn end of the world we made plans in our minds to someday and
somehow come back to this out-of-the-way place to explore from the shore side. (It would be ten years but we did
make it. That trip made a spectacular adventure filled with the very best of memories.)
This was a long trip at a speed of 6.5 knots or the equivalent of 7.475 statute miles per hour, using our diesel
engine. To put this in prospective our average cross-country bicycling speed is about twelve statute miles per hour.
An interesting fact is that the boat was capable of 10.5 knots of speed under sail or the equivalent of 12.075 statute
miles per hour. I must admit that we seldom were able to sail on the Great Lakes to optimum speeds because of the
winds which seemed to be almost always excessively too much or too little.
We were this day headed toward one of the most treacherous places on all of Lake Superior, this is a place called
Whitefish Bay. What makes it so bad for vessels of all sizes is the fact that the prevailing storm winds come out of
Canada and from the northwest and funnel down the lake converging into this shallow bay where the seas abruptly
build into mountainous waves. Those waves then make maneuvering nearly impossible and thus many a vessel has
met its demise there.
At 4:55 PM we had a fix of our position at 46° 46.3’ north latitude and 87° 12.7’ west longitude. The strange thing
was that on our entire trip, up to this point, we hadn’t needed to record the water depth because we were always in
profoundly deep water. Well, here we were in 50 feet of water and in twenty minutes we would be abeam the
Vermillion Point Coast Guard Station and in 39 feet of water.
Jane doesn’t like it when she is so close to shore that she can see it or in water so shallow that it can be recorded
on our depth sounder. Being far out to sea is definitely more relaxing but as I always like to point out “you can see a
long ways but you can’t see much, it’s all scenery with nothing to obstruct your view”.
This long boating day was over at 6:55 PM when we finally pulled into a small newly made harbor at Whitefish Point
within Whitefish Bay. I should point out that the little fishing community was not new, just the breakwater that
surrounded it.
Below you can see our vessel the Dursmirg docked at the Brown Fishery dock at Whitefish Point.
This turned out to be an interesting stopover because the next day when we were planning to leave the dock, we
couldn’t because a forceful wind had us pinned solidly against the dock where we were wedged between pilings.
We thought we had better take advantage of our forced layover day and put our bicycles ashore to do some
sightseeing.
This little outpost is situated at the end of a long road that only goes to this spot where the population could be
counted on your fingers and they like their privacy as we soon found out. At first we thought the few locals we
encountered were just unfriendly but then we realized that they were living here because they liked their privacy and
we then certainly could appreciate their standoffishness.
We rode our bicycles to the lighthouse at the end of the road that marked the entry to Whitefish Bay from Lake
Superior. There an enormous foghorn was situated that was supposed to be able to be heard for ten miles.
The nice surprise was that Jane with her abilities to sniff out wild berries quickly found copious quantities of
blueberries and we filled several buckets full in no time at all. Along the shoreline the season for berries is much
later than inland away from the influence of the cold waters of the lake. In winter the opposite is true and the lake
actually helps hold the temperatures up compared to the inland places that often have minus 40 degree Fahrenheit.
Next it was back to our boat and my top priority job would now be to connect up our new diesel fuel fired galley
range. We had just received shipment of it before we set sail from Superior, Wisconsin. We had had no time to
connect it until this time because our top priority was to make our vessel move under its own power so that we
wouldn’t be stuck with another winter in those frozen northern latitudes.
Among other things we also carried aboard a full selection of tools that enabled me to perform just about any type of
maintenance and fabrication job related to the boat. We even carried an oxyacetylene welding and cutting rig.
The blueberry pies were fabulous and at our age then we were able to put away copious quantities of any kind of
food, and this day we did. Jane had her Swedish tradition of cooking plus her own natural abilities that I have been
forever thankful for. The number one rule aboard a sea going vessel is never to “upset the cook”…the crew always
pays dearly for a sea cook in bad humor. (Of course sailors use much cruder words)
August 31st, 1972 at 8:15 AM we had cast off our dock lines and proceeded out of the protective little harbor at
Whitefish Point with a strong wind blowing in from the southwest that enabled us to get away from the dock. The
wind would soon come around to the northwest and make the lake a miserable place to be; therefore we made haste
to get across Whitefish Bay before it became an intolerable place for boaters.
As we entered the bay we caught our first glimpse of the Canadian shore and soon would have it close abeam as we
approached the Soo Locks at the town of Sault Saint Marie, Michigan. The twin cities are both named Sault Saint
Marie and one is in United States and the other in Canada. The US side has four locks side by side and are kept
very busy with over 5,000 vessels transiting each season. The Canadian side has one lock also.
Lake Superior, being the highest of all of the Great Lakes at 604 feet above sea level, drains down twenty-one feet
at this point.
As we approached the lock area on this very windy morning the commercial shipping traffic became amazingly
congested and the size of our vessel seemed to diminish dramatically among these monsters that were up to one
thousand feet in length.
Jane and I heard some one calling to us to pull over to the sea wall but couldn’t see any one around. Finally we
discovered that we were being summonsed via a loudspeaker system and we tried to dock up against the sea wall
but the fierce wind made that maneuver almost impossible. I pointed our bow up to the sea wall and a man came
down to receive our dock line but then decided that we could just give him our documentation number and some
other statistics. Jane was standing on the bow and was happy that we wouldn’t be required to tie up because that
would be a difficult maneuver under the circumstances with the building winds. We were happy to have the “Big Sea
Waters” of Lake Superior behind us and felt several different emotions as we then pointed our bow into the awaiting
lock that we would be able to transit completely by ourselves.
We had built the boat with our own hands, launched it, and just sailed it across the length of the largest fresh water
lake in the world and now our creation that seemed incredibly enormous as it sat in our backyard was diminished in
size to a very insignificant thing within the “MacArthur Lock” at Sault Saint Marie, Michigan. Another emotion we felt
was of leaping off a tall building and being free to float in mid-air. That feeling of freedom was also coupled with the
realization that we were totally responsible for our own survival in a very hostile environment.
At 1:55 PM we were on our way out of the MacAuther Lock after our 21 foot descent from the level of Lake Superior
to the level of Lake Huron and Lake Michigan.
In the photo above you can see that we were laden with too many of our toys from our previous life and
the canoe would be one of the first things we would have to dispense with. It was just too much to lug
along. We loved it very much but our new life of travels upon big seas and through countless more
locks made carrying it along impossible.
After exiting the lock we docked at a municipal wharf adjacent to a hydroelectric plant in downtown Sault Saint Marie,
Michigan.
We put our bicycles ashore and set out to see the town and some of the surrounding area.
When we returned to the lock area we were treated to a rare sight and that was the largest lake freighter of all being
locked through. This vessel was built to the specifications of the lock and just fit in with inches to spare.
(
Stewart J. Cort slowly approaches and enters the Poe Lock
Oh, by the way! (Here are the specifications for the Stewart J. Cort)
The Lakes' first 1000-footer had its start in the yards of the Ingalls Shipbuilding Corporation of Pascagoula,
Mississippi, in 1970. The unusual-looking vessel was known as "Hull 1173" but acquired the nickname "Stubby" due
to its appearance. Hull 1173 consisted of the Cort's bow and stern sections, 182 feet long and 75 feet wide (the
reduced width was necessary to pass through the St. Lawrence Seaway and Welland Canal locks). The vessel
made its way up to the Lakes in 1971 where it was cut apart (following the "Cut Here" instructions painted on the
hull) and the two ends were fastened to the 818-foot long midbody at Erie Marine in Erie, Pennsylvania.
This photo is of the waters downstream from the Soo Locks with Canada on the opposite shore and to
the right in the photo is the long hydroelectric plant where we had our boat, the Dursmirg, docked.
Oh, by the way!
The following is a description of locks with some specifications:
THE LOCKS AT SAULT STE. MARIE, MICHIGAN
Operated by the U.S. Army, Corps of Engineers
Watching the huge vessels pass through the Soo locks is a unique experience that cannot be seen anywhere else
in the United States. There are locks in the 26 mile Welland Canal, built to bypass Niagara Falls, but the maximum
size vessel is 740' long and 78' wide. The locks at the Soo will hold the huge 1000' freighters used on the Great
Lakes.
You can watch the "Lakers" and the "Salties"(ocean-going vessels) as they travel the seaway between ports and
see them rise or drop the 21 feet between the levels of the St. Mary's River. There is an upper viewing area so you
are able to look down on the vessels as they lock through or stand almost close enough to touch them.
The locks operate most of the year, but are closed from Jan 15 to March 25 for maintenance. The locks are closed
for longer periods if the weather is severe.
The Poe and the MacArthur Locks are in use at this time. The MacArthur is the lock closest to the viewing area and
will handle vessels up to 800 feet long, 80 feet wide and 31 feet deep.
The big 1000' Lakers need to use the second lock (The Poe) that is 1200' long, 110' wide and 32 feet deep. The
MacArthur Lock was built in 1943 and the Poe Lock was built in 1968. The two other locks, Davis and Sabin are
closed.
The Davis Lock was built in 1918 and the Sabin Lock was built in 1919. Both these locks are too shallow (only 23
feet deep). A new and even bigger lock is planned which would take up the space now used by the Davis and the
Sabin, but funding has not yet been made available.
Cargo carried by some of the vessels might include iron ore (usually taconite pellets) limestone, coal, grain, cement,
salt or sand. The huge freighter in the picture is a self-unloader carrying taconite pellets to Cleveland, Lorain,
Chicago, Gary, Burns Harbor, Indiana Harbor, Detroit, Toledo, Ashtabula, Conneaut, or another iron ore receiving
port.
Many different types of vessels pass through the locks each year, from small passenger boats to the huge vessels
carrying over 72,000 tons in cargo. Approximately 5,000 boats use the locks yearly. The number of boats using the
canal has decreased as the size of the boats has increased.
Back to our travels around the town: Jane and I found out that we could purchase all of the navigational charts
that we would need for our journey across the rest of the Great Lakes at the office located at the locks. We placed
our order, which would be ready the following day, and we were surprised that our bundle of charts cost $55.00. At
the time the price of navigational charts had just gone up to $1.25 each. We were shocked because the charts we
had purchased back in Duluth, Minnesota had cost only a $1.00 each and the year before they were just 75 cents.
The reporter from the Sault Saint Marie Evening News newspaper, E.J. Sundstrom came to interview us and do an
article in the paper that was published on September 9th. He titled it, “Superior, Wisconsin couple give up home for
adventure at sea”
Jane and I went next to indulge ourselves in some of the local history at the “River of History Museum” and the
“Johnston House Museum”. We found out that the area was rich in history and was established 1668-1671 by the
French who named it “New France”. They then clamed the country as theirs west to the Pacific Ocean and south to
the Gulf of Mexico, an area many times larger than the entire country of France.
The British took over in 1762 and retained it until it became part of the United States of
America in 1820.
Oh, by the way!
A note of interest is the fact that the United States of America purchased the land from the French that the French
had originally clamed from the Indians. That land, (known as the Louisiana Purchase), covered the area that
included the land where fifteen states now exist for fifteen million dollars or four cants an acre.
Oh, by the way!
A friend of ours, Virginia M. Soetebier, wrote a historical novel entitled, Woman of the Green Glade, that tells the
story of this area and of the early settlers. The fascinating and factual story gives a wonderful and insightful look
into the history and personal lives that makes the book a must read.
September 2nd was Jane’s birthday and we went to one of the local attractions called the “Antlers Bar” on Portage
Street. The food was good, the place interesting and filled with many curiosities from the north woods, most of which
were antlers from a variety of northern animals.
Jane was surprised and happy when the bartender checked her identification to make sure she was old enough to
drink beer. The legal age for beer drinking at the time was 18 years old and Jane was then 28. Ten years later we
returned to the same bar and restaurant for Jane’s birthday and that time she didn’t have her identification checked!
Oh, by the way!
Building the “Dursmirg” wasn’t “all work and no play”. We did make some very nice trips during the
“building years”. Some of them are below:
TRIP TO LAS VEGAS, SAN FRANCISCO AND HAWAII, SEPTEMBER, 1968
This two-week trip started in Las Vegas, then to San Francisco, and then our second week was in Hawaii. Jane’s
brother Jim Pearson was in the Navy at that time and his ship was based at Oahu, Hawaii.
Jane on balcony of hotel in Oahu, Hawaii Bing and Jim Pearson and his MG
with Diamondhead in the background
IN APRIL OF 1970 WE MADE A NINE-DAY HONEYMOON TRIP TO MEXICO CITY AND ACAPULCO,
MEXICO
TRIP TO LAS VEGAS, NEVADA AND LOS ANGELES, CALIF. NOV. 1970
We visited many of the casinos in Las Vegas. We stayed at the Mint in downtown.
We visited Knott’s Berry Farm and Disneyland in California. In California, we stayed at a hotel in
Disneyland.
COLORADO RIVER RAFTING TRIP, APRIL, 1971
We made a nine-day trip with the University of Wisconsin, Superior, geology group to make a raft trip down the
Colorado River. We made side trips to Monument Valley, Sunset Crater, Petrified Forest, Mesa Verde National
Park, Durango Colorado, and started our raft trip at Lees Ferry, Arizona. We rafted to Phantom Ranch from where
we spent two days hiking out of the canyon. It was a wonderful trip.
Water crashing over the bow of our raft On the top of Grand Canyon after hiking up
Jane resting part way up the trail Looking back down the trail
IN THE FALL OF 1971, WE MADE A BICYCLE TRIP TO BAYFIELD. We were frequent visitors to Bayfield and
made many sailing trips among the Apostle Islands. We also canoed to York Island in the Apostle’s for many long
weekends.
1971 FALL
A WEEKEND BICYCLE GET AWAY TO BAYFIELD, WISCONSIN:
In the spring of 1971 Jane’s doctor informed her that she would need to change her life style and could no longer do
the work she has been doing. Jane had been running a computer terminal for Household Finance Company; it was
the first of its kind in the U.S. Many hours of standing at that terminal was giving her severe leg pains and her doctor
told her to get a bicycle, play tennis and for sure do some kind of work that would allowed her to move around more.
Jane took her last check from work and was off to the bicycle shop to make the purchase of a new bicycle and asked
if I would like to accompany her, I said sure and we both came home with new bicycles that night. Well, we soon
found them to be a real pleasure and rode them every chance we got.
That very same fall we planned an escape from our very intense efforts on our boat-building project. The plan was
this; we would bike the 83 miles to visit our friends, Jerry and Bonnie Peterson, at Bayfield, Wisconsin.
We were up early for our departure on a frosty Saturday morning that October.
With our bicycles heavy laden carrying all of the provisions and various changes of clothing we would need we were
off. It was still quite cold as we made our first stop at a picnic table thirty miles or so from home in the Brule River
valley. We were able to remove some layers of our heavy clothing here. The coffee was a big hit and went down
even better with a small spike of brandy to smooth it out.
REST STOP AT BRULE RIVER HWY 13, JANE AND BING
As that morning turned into mid-day we had stripped off most of our clothing due to the heat of the sun that was
doing a remarkable job even at this late part of the season in northern Wisconsin. Frost occurred every night this
time of year in this part of the world.
We arrived at the small town of Port Wing just at lunch time and there was a very nice restaurant that specialized in
home cooking with blueberry and apple pies made from local fruits that made the stop a must. As hungry as we were
our backsides were so sore that the effort of disembarking the bicycles proved excruciating and it was even hard to
walk again. By the time that lunch was over we were ready to face the next leg of our trip and by three that afternoon
we were sitting at a friendly bar in Cornucopia, Wisconsin having a couple of beers and some snacks.
HIGHWAY 13, BETWEEN CORNICOPIA AND BAYFIELD
Well, we still had twenty-one miles to go to our destination and it all seemed up hill. At the top of one extremely long
hill I still remember both Jane and I collapsing in the grass alongside the road to regain our composure. Well, it was
up and on we went. At the Red Cliff Indian Reservation a pack of snapping, snarling, scruffy dogs came out to
sample our flesh. I don’t know where Jane found the strength but she was out of sight in no time. I did the best I was
able
.
BING CRASHED AT THE HILLTOP
It was well after dark when we finally arrived at out friend’s home in Bayfield, Wisconsin. Jerry and Bonnie Peterson
were waiting and as tired as we were they had to be cordial and we too felt the same. After we had finished the
pleasantries we turned in thoroughly exhausted. No sooner than we got to lie down the Peterson’s friends arrived for
an all night party. Some how we survived. The next day all six of us went for a sail on a thirty-foot Pearson sailboat
out among the Apostle Islands for an over night cruise. It was late in the season and cold but we all had the
appropriate clothing and had a marvelous time. As we were in no real hurry we went to Stockton Island for the night
as there is a public pier there. Along the way we managed to catch plenty of fish, thanks to Jerry.
SAILING JERRY AND BONNIE, BING JANE, JERRY AND BONNIE
BAYFIELD, WISCONSIN VIEWED FROM THE HILL ABOVE IT.
The next day Jane and I started our return bike trip and went as far as Jane’s parents home in Maple, Wisconsin,
which was sixty miles and spent the night. They were the finest people I knew and a real pleasure to be with.
The next day it was on to Superior and home with a stop midmorning at Jane’s grandmother’s house in Poplar,
Wisconsin, which happened to be on our way. Almost our entire trip that day was downhill and it sure did feel good.
So here was another vacation away from work and our boat-building project.
The story of Dursmirg continues with chapter 6....next chapter
August 18th 1972 Jane and I were up before the sun on a suspiciously quiet, calm and warm morning. We were the
only ones awake at that hour and the serenity was something we didn’t want to break.
Our preparations for departure were made as we cranked the engine, inspected the gauges, and made the
appropriate entries into our logbook.
As we slipped the mooring lines, reversed the engine and maneuvered our way out of the little boat harbor at Port
Superior Village Marina, in Bayfield, Wisconsin, our home of two weeks, we were greeted with a sunrise red as fire
reflecting across “Gitche Gu’mee, the Big Sea Waters”, of Lake Superior. (“Red skies in the morning, sailors take
warning”).
This was a monumental moment with lingering and reminiscent memories of dreams my father related to me as a
child of his desire to one day venture by boat across these mighty Great Lake waters, a dream never fulfilled.
Jane and I were now definitely venturing forth to fulfill our dreams that at times seemed more challenging and
daunting than climbing the tallest mountains.
Our next challenge we looked squarely in the face. As I surveyed the waters extending before us that went far off to
the distant horizon and beyond, my mind couldn’t help but reflect upon the poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
“The Song of Hiawatha”, and the hauntingly beautiful words of “Gitche Gu’mee the Big Sea Waters” of this greatest
of the Great Lakes, Superior, which we were about to attempt to cross in our home made creation the “Dursmirg”.
Lake Superior is 604 feet above sea level; the biggest and highest of all of the Great Lakes that border Canada and
collectively form the largest body of fresh water in the world with 94,700 square miles. Beginning at 92 degrees west
Longitude, Lake Superior forms the western terminus of the huge and prolonged waterway of the Saint Lawrence
that extends easterly to the North Atlantic Ocean and all of the seaports of the world.
Over the years Jane and I would traverse all of these lakes, waterways, connecting rivers and pass through each
and every one of the connecting locks plus the entire Erie Canal System.
As we passed the southern end of Madeline Island, we said goodbye to Wisconsin and any sight of land as a heavy
fog set in and we were alone in an eerie world. We had the good fortune of getting a reliable compass departure
bearing before the fog engulfed us and that was all we would have for many hours to come because the fog was so
thick the bow of the boat was as far as we could see. Several times during this long day we heard the sound of fog
horns from passing lake freighters but we never caught the slightest glimpse of them though we strained our eyes
into that gray engulfing shroud that isolated us in the small world of our 46 foot boat. Now our boat seemed to shrink
in size when put out upon this largest fresh water lake in the world.
With our navigation we had plotted our position and determined that we were that afternoon off the north shore of
Michigan and should be within sight of it. Jane and I strained our eyes late into that afternoon fog and I told her to
look up at the strange dark clouds off our starboard bow. These were the tops of the Porcupine Mountains! It would
be a couple of hours before we would be able to see the shoreline because of the pervasive thick fog that
stubbornly clung on.
The harbor of Ontonagon peeped through the glimmers of late afternoon sunshine we were on course and on time.
Before we arrived at the harbor entrance we were greeted by the strange sight of flotsam in the form of trees, logs
and a wide variety of miscellaneous things that gave the appearance of a garbage barge discharge. We wound up
giving this mysterious hodge-podge of floating debris a wide berth that added an extra five miles to our trip.
When we arrived at dockside that afternoon we were told of what had caused that strange collection of debris we
encountered offshore. It turns out that a torrential rainstorm had flooded the Area Rivers far past flood stage and as
a consequence flushed the riverbanks clean of debris and caused devastating damage.
Dinner that night would be at one of our favorite places in this part of the country that had a famous specialty. The
little downtown diner in Ontonagon had the best “Pasties” we have ever eaten and the area residents drive from far
and wide to sample them. A strange thing we have always noticed on our visits was that you didn’t have to place an
order when you sat down to eat…your pasties were just delivered hot to you and then only the question of what you
might wanted to drink. As usual they were terrific and worth the trip.
***
At last we had made our escape from our work-a-day world and liquidated everything we couldn’t pack aboard our
vessel. As it was we had a twelve-foot boat, a seventeen-foot canoe, two outboard motors, our bicycles, a
mountainous store of food and enough books to keep us reading for at least a year. This would be our first night out
of state and the reality of our departure was beginning to be felt by both of us as we walked the streets of this little
town and didn’t know anyone.
Postcard that Jane sent to her parents:
8/18/72
We left Bayfield this morning at 6AM and got here at 6PM. Had a good trip but couldn’t see anything until we got to
the Porcupine Mountains. We will head for Houghton tomorrow if the weather’s nice. Hi to everyone. Jane and Bing
August 19th, 1972 This morning as we were making our preparations to depart the dock at Ontonagon, we had to
take extra care because of the swift running current. From our Power Squadron lessons we had learned the proper
sequence of casting off dock lines. As Jane was aboard with the engine running and warmed up I passed her the
lines one at a time until the last and crucial spring line was ready to hand onboard. At this point time was of the
essence because of the swift running current that was sending torrents of water boiling past and would carry our
vessel away like a cork in the rapids. Would you believe this, there was a bystander on the dock and he persisted in
blocking my boarding the boat. Each time I attempted to get aboard he moved in the same direction I went and away
went my wife and our boat; they were being swept out the harbor entrance to the lake. This was Jane’s first time at
the controls of the boat and she was completely on her own. The only option for her was to take the boat all of the
way out to the lake, turn it around there out of the fast current and confines of the river and return.
She is an amazing person and had more book learning regarding boat handling than almost any one I knew but this
was her first time at the controls and her first time at docking our 20 ton vessel. This would be a real test of even a
seasoned sailor but I know that her hands were slightly shaking as she brought the boat up through those torrents
of current and had to dock.
Jane did a perfect job and I was very proud of her abilities. I was very happy and proud as I stepped aboard and
congratulated her on a job well done.
Oh, by the way!
Over the years we would have experience with boats over 100 tons and Jane proved her competence with them. I
was always amazed at my little Jane maneuvering one of those 128-ton Desco trawlers by herself on boat deliveries
that we made in the following years.
*
We were back in the lake and headed easterly to a canal that traverses the Keweenaw peninsula of Upper Michigan
and cuts many miles off the cross Lake Superior voyage.
Our weather was good but we were accustomed to boating with at least small craft warnings and if you were going to
boat on Lake Superior that was just about the best you could hope for. Because of the unpredictable weather and
unpredictability of storms that spring up so fast that escape is seldom an option you must be prepared to ride out
treacherous weather that many times will founder the Great Lakes freighters of 800 to a thousand feet in length.
The water depth is so great at most places that anchoring isn’t even an option though it would be hellacious to
contemplate swinging at anchor in the open lake during one of its frequent, very violent and unforgiving storms.
Because of these conditions finding a safe harbor for the night is imperative.
Lake Superior is surrounded by the states of Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota and the Province of Ontario in
Canada. Almost exclusively these shores are lined by wilderness and the few small towns along the way are quiet,
forlorn little outposts far off from the main highways. The long brutal winters have kept the place from becoming too
populated. From Lake Superior it is only two hundred miles north to frozen permafrost and in Upper Michigan the
annual snowfall is more than two hundred inches. When traveling around the Upper Peninsula of Michigan it soon
becomes apparent that heavy snowfall is common when you see the two story homes with very steep pointed roofs
to shed the snow and opening upper windows so that the homes can be accessed in winter over the huge
snowdrifts. The only significant population center on the entire lake is at its western end where the Twin Ports of
Duluth, Minnesota and Superior, Wisconsin have a combined population of around one hundred thousand people.
By 3:40 PM we were entering the Houghton-Hancock canal and the entry in the logbook that afternoon read, “Clear
and hot”, which is a very rare thing in this part of the country.
At 5:40 we had gone under the one big bridge we had to open to traverse the canal and it opened to its full height of
85 feet after I signaled it a second time, we then tied dockside at the municipal dock in downtown Houghton,
Michigan.
The town at that time was a small out of the way place that has a state university that specialized in mining related
degrees plus there were several bars that cater to the students. The area used to be the center of an extensive
mining industry that extracted copper, silver and iron ore. These days the mining has all ceased and other than
some lumber related business nothing except university degrees are produced here.
Jane and I walked out to find some place to have dinner and explore the town on foot as we were docked right in the
city center.
When we returned to the boat after dark we were surprised to find some man trying to break into our boat through
the main companionway hatch. I immediately sprang into action and apprehended the scoundrel and pitched him
overboard. This would be something we would find happening often when we were tied dockside and eventually we
discovered that we would sleep better if we were able to anchor out where only boaters could get to us.
It is too easy for dock walkers to just step aboard and my second thoughts about this incident made me think that I
should have put the attempted burglar overboard on the water side not the dockside. In later years we discovered
that we would have to protect out boat at gun point especially in Florida.
August 20th, 1972 was a bright and windy day and we would have the treat of boating across this lovely wooded
canal along with the big lake freighters heavily laden with iron ore. There was a slight feel of autumn in the air and
here and there you could see the first signs of autumn leaves that had started their change of color. This canal didn’
t resemble a canal at all because it was merely cut through the woods and seemed to meander as it went and even
passed through a good sized lake on its way.
Our destination this evening would be the small town of Portage, Michigan at the eastern end of the Houghton-
Hancock Canal where we tied directly to the US Army Corp of Engineers dock. All across the Great Lakes these
Corp of Engineer docks were open for free public use and we never found any competition for dockage at any of
them.
Jane and I were enjoying the tranquility and solitude of this North-Woods outpost when some fishermen came along
to talk and then one of the residents came down to find out what we were doing and where we were going.
After we gave a brief account of our trip here and our upcoming plans he invited us to his home for a steak dinner,
and we accepted.
It turned out that he was a policeman from the Detroit area and only came up to his cabin here for vacations and to
getaway.
He had two German Shepard dogs that he kept chained up and trained to be vicious attack dogs. I made the
mistake of befriending one of the dogs that eventually began to quit its attack mode and wag its tail in a friendly
manner. Well, the owner then shot the dog because he said he didn’t need a dog that wouldn’t attack all strangers.
Other than that incident we managed to have a pleasant evening but Jane and I both agreed that we wouldn’t be
cultivating the friendship of anyone that treated animals in that fashion.
All the time we had been in the protected waters of the Houghton-Hancock canal a very strong windstorm had been
blowing and kicking up the waves of Lake Superior. This “Great Lake” is not at all like the ocean with respect to its
waves. On the open ocean with a windstorm the waves build into swells and like upon the Pacific Ocean those swells
can be so big and far apart crest to crest that they are not even noticeable unless you can watch a distant object
like another vessel. I have seen this wave action that resembles an optical illusion. The water surface appears calm
because the waves are so far apart and then you watch a distant ship appear and then disappear before your eyes
merely rising and falling within that huge rolling sea.
August 23rd we cleared the entry at Portage, Michigan and headed out into Lake Superior at 6:10 AM with clear
skies on a cold day and a light breeze blowing. We had expected that because the windstorm had passed that the
seas would have subsided.
On the radio that morning there was news of a large tow boat and barge that were lost trying to round the point of
the Keweenaw Peninsula near the town of Copper Harbor on the northern tip of the peninsula and we were happy
that it was not our boat lost that night. By crossing the Houghton-Hancock canal we avoided the open lake and also
had the protection of that inland passage…yes we were happy for that reprieve.
We had to put up sail to steady the boat against the huge seas that rocked the boat violently even though there
wasn’t enough wind to sail by. Every vessel has a sea size and fetch of waves that make that boat ride miserably
and we had just the size and pitch of sea for that condition.
The shore line we would follow this day was not only very treacherous with its countless outcroppings of jagged rock
but there was absolutely no place to take refuge or anchor all of the way to our next port of call, Marquette. Jane
made fourteen navigational fixes of our position this day because it was absolutely imperative that our course did
not stray to that unforgiving rocky coast.
Upon studying the chart it was clear that we were now passing along one of the most desolate places in North
America. No roads or settlements, just the wild of the Northwood’s all the way to Marquette.
The seas made this ride very difficult because we were caught in a beam sea that rolled our vessel just about out of
control even though we had sail up to help steady us. Just hanging on was a gigantic job and Jane preformed
miracles with her work at the chart table and also supplying me with my coffee and “eats”.
At 10:30 that morning our engine mysteriously quit and only the sound of flapping sails and sloshing seas were
there with us. Yes, I did become alarmed because we were in a place that was now very vulnerable and totally at the
mercy of the elements… if only we had enough wind to sail.
It took Jane several minutes to tell me what had happened because I had become totally distracted and very
concerned about our perilous state.
When she could finally get my attention she told of seeing a box fly from our galley cupboard that had flipped open
and then that box took a trip across the entire boat and headed into the bilge near the engine. That was when the
engine stopped without even a whimper.
In those rolling seas movement aboard was challenging to say the least but I managed to get down to the engine
room to examine the cause of our present engine failure. Because of the fact that I had done the complete
installation and hook up plus designed and fabricated many of the systems including the exhaust, cooling and shaft
packing systems, to mention a few, I could quickly troubleshoot the entire system.
The mystery was quickly solved. That food box that went to the engine room via the bilge took a devious path that
we could not recreate but nonetheless on its way it inadvertently bounced off something and managed to hit the
emergency engine shut off located up under the air cleaner and completely out of sight and almost unreachable.
Due to its design it is made to spring shut like a mousetrap when tripped. Well, we proved that it was fully
operational and very affective at shutting the engine down. It turns out that as these Detroit Diesel engines age and
loosen up they had a tendency to suck lube oil from the crankcase and run on it. The result would become
catastrophic when the engine would begin to pick up speed and would ultimately attain such a high RPM that the
engine would than latterly fly to pieces. The engineers at General Motors soon discovered that the only way to stop
one of these “run-a-way engines” was to seal off the air intake completely when this condition occurred, and thus
this “mouse trap” shut off in the intake manifold.
Oh, by the way!
Some years later a dear friend of ours, George Tappin, that spent much of his life running these two cycle Detroit
Engines on his commercial fishing trawlers told of one of his engines “running away”. He told how he desperately
tried to stop it by stuffing the air intake with everything in sight and how that stubborn engine refused to quit as it
pulled rags, old mops and even his clothing right through the engine and then up the exhaust stack where it all
came out in flames and a shower of sparks.
Back to our emergency shut off; I only had to depress the spring-loaded shutoff and it snapped the damper plate
in the intake open and the engine was ready to spring back into operation just like nothing had ever happened.
Well, that is just what I did and we were again under way.
At 4:15 PM that afternoon we were examining a place to dock at Marquette, Michigan.
We attempted to enter a small marina there but the approach was just too shallow for our six-foot two-inch draft and
we backed out to look elsewhere. We spotted an oil company terminal dock nearby that was vacant and tied there; it
was near the downtown section of town.
In a few minutes we had visitors. First we were paid a visit by the manager of the nearby marina that insisted that we
must come and give him our dockage business. He proved to be extremely persistent. We explained that we were
absolutely unable to maneuver into his shallow entry channel. He finally went off muttering to himself and just
somehow couldn’t or wouldn’t come to grips with that reality.
Shortly we were paid another visit and this time it was by the owner of the petroleum company whose dock we were
now tied to. John Magill, the owner was a real gentleman and you could tell that he was in charge of his company.
John asked us what we were doing at his dock and we told him how we had tried to get into the marina but couldn’t.
And that his dock looked like a likely place to tie up as his dock stood vacant at that time.
We invited John aboard and we all went inside to relax and converse. He wanted to hear our story and our plans.
We became friends quickly and the next thing that Jane and I knew we were invited out to his home for dinner and
drinks followed by the hottest sauna we had ever taken.
John Magill, the owner of the dock we were tied to, had one request of us while we were at his dock and that was to
move our boat when the petroleum tanker from Superior, Wisconsin came in to discharge fuel oil and gasoline.
We merely moved our boat around to the end section of the dock and away from the slip where the then
approaching tanker was about to pull in.
Next we were treated to a spectacular chain of events that unfolded before our eyes. It was much like a well-trained
circus event. What happened next was definitely spectacular. This heavily laden tanker approached the dock at
approximately five knots of forward speed and at the moment that the bow of the boat was just about abeam the end
of the dock a young man jumped from high up in the rigging of the vessel. He was at the end of a rope attached to a
long pivotal swinging arm that was simultaneously being swung outboard of the boat so that as this young man
swung through the air he also traveled out over the dock and like a parachute trooper hit the ground running. Next a
heaving line was slung to him which he quickly and efficiently retrieved and then dropped the heavy steel cable that
the heaving line was attached to over one of the large mooring bollards on the dock and then ran at high speed
down the dock to repeat the same procedure over again with the second steel cable docking line. As soon as the
cables were made fast the onboard crew quickly dogged down the brakes on the huge mooring winches and they
then let out loud screeches and smoked as the this heavily laden vessel was slowed to a stop like a lassoed bull
being brought to the ground in a cloud of dust. The vessel no sooner was tied dockside and the crew slung another
boom crane overboard and this one hoisted a rubber hose that was about ten inches in diameter with a sizeable
metal flange attached to its end. John Magill was waiting dockside with his crew that then joined the rubber hose
from the boat to the one at dockside. This process was well practiced as we could see from the way it was
preformed. Because of the shear size of these hoses they were totally unmanageable by hand and had to be
brought together with the force of winches. The two flanged mating surfaces were aligned with a tapered pin so that
the first of twenty or so bolts could be inserted to bring them tightly together. In two minutes these crews had the
hose firmly tightened and the signal to commence discharge of the cargo was given. I should add that no one was
permitted on that dock during this procedure except the work crew and no smoking signs had been placed all up
and down the entire dock. Jane and I were so amazed by this performance that we had lots of questions for John
Magill and the first one was; “does the line handler ever miss his cue to secure the dock lines?” Then John told of
the previous spring when the first tanker of the season came in and was going too fast plus the line handler was
unable to do his job so the net outcome was that the tanker took a trip up onto the beach and had to be unloaded
from there.
Photo of our boat, Dursmirg, Jane in the companionway, John Magill on the dock and the tanker ship in
the background unloading.
Over the next four days Jane and I had the time of our lives and got to do lots of exploring on our bicycles around
the area. This wasn’t our first stop here as in 1966 we had visited the town and spent a night at one of the loveliest
places we could ever remember just north of town, a place called Presque Isle Park. In. That trip was a nine day
driving trip that we made around the entire lake and with a side trip to Niagara Falls. Our stop over at Presque Isle
Park had been quite by accident because we were only looking for a quiet and secluded spot to pitch our tent for
the night and found this loveliest of places where it turned out we were the only ones there on a full moonlit night.
What made it so memorable was the fact that as the sun was slipping away in the west out over the “Big Sea
Waters” the huge and full moon simultaneously rose up to the east out of “Gitche Gu’mee” and we were camped
on a small island that we were able to wade to and cooked our evening meal over an open campfire right on the
beach…it was our special place in time and we knew that that moment would never be able to be recreated so we
hold it in our treasured memories.
August 27th, 1972 we departed Marquette, Michigan after four wonderful and very pleasurable days that John
Magill had helped turn into one of our very favorite memories of a special place that only comes at a special time in
your life when all things are just right and you are ready to enjoy it to the fullest.
At 7:59 AM that morning we cast off our dock lines and departed. The day was overcast and soon became foggy as
we traveled on our easterly course. It was reassuring that Jane was such an exact and precise navigator because
we were soon in the thickest of fog. We were almost to the shore of an island called “Grand”, which is ten miles long
before we were able to see its shoreline that we followed into the harbor of Munising, Michigan.
We were docked at the city dock by 3:25 PM. Our first visitors were a group of the local teenager boys that had lots
of questions and seemed to be an unruly bunch to say the least. Well, they got quiet and next our boat made a loud
and shocking crash into the cement break-wall we were tied to. The young hooligans wanted to play a prank on us
and untied all of the fenders we used to fend off the vessel when docking. Our fenders were all gone to the bottom
and we didn’t see any humor in their prank.
Our next visitor got an ear full of our feelings toward the local pranksters and felt so bad that he returned a short
time later with a truck load of tires that we could use for fenders and an apology for the behavior of the kids. We
accepted his apology and from that point forward had no further problems there.
August 28th, 1972 at 7:35 we left the Munising public dock on a bright and breezy morning on our way to White
Fish Point, Michigan a port some 92 nautical miles to the east with no harbors or refuge ports for the entire distance.
The Harbor of Munising was very well protected from the ravages of the Lake Superior storms, as we were soon to
find out.
On our way out into the big lake we would now pass on the easterly side of the big island named “Grand Island”, that
gave its protected leeward side to protect the harbor that we had complacently just left.
At 8:10 that morning we had a fix of our position abeam the Grand Island bell buoy and the comment in the logbook
said “very windy and building”.
We continued on and by 9AM we encountered seas that were bigger than we needed to be in especially when we
considered the fact that our voyage ahead would take us through open and totally unprotected waters. A wind shift
would make life for us very miserable to say the least especially because we could be exposed to a trip that could be
easily tripled in time of passage. A reluctant decision was made to return to the protection of the port we had just
left. This would be our first and only return to port for our entire trip due to weather conditions.
In the mounting seas I made the 180-degree turn into the on coming waves. Jane and I were astonished as we
quickly slipped down into the oncoming trough and the bow of our vessel crashed into the bottom of that wave with a
resounding crash that brought our vessel to a shuttering halt that threw a wall of water more than a hundred feet in
both directions at the same time. Yes, we were happy we made the decision to return to that quiet and tranquil spot
at dockside to let the wind blow its furry out…we would try again the following day.
At 10:00 AM that morning we were again docked at the public dock and happy to be there.
We had no problem finding many diversions. We went sight-seeing by bicycle and when all else failed we had plenty
of projects aboard the boat which included installing the many items we had not had time to get to in our hurried
escape.
August 29th we were cast off from the dock at 7:55 AM and headed out back into the “Big Sea Waters” of that big
lake that just the day before had beat us back into the protection of the harbor. This day was clear and cool with a
light northwest breeze that wasn’t enough to fill our sails but the sea was down to a gentle rolling swell as we passed
bell buoy number “3” at Grand Island and made our departure turn on an easterly course.
This area is where the sightseeing boat takes the tourists to view the local attraction called the “Pictured Rocks”.
Well we got to see them up close as we made our venture out into the lake and they were definitely worth the trip
out. At 8:55 that morning we had the “Sail Rock” abeam our course. It is a very prominent landmark. We were happy
for the easy going seas even though we didn’t have enough wind to assist in our sailing and needed our engine that
entire day, which would be a long one that was to be ninety plus miles of open water.
In many of the local tourist traps postcards featuring these unique rock formations are sold.
The “Au Sable” lighthouse and the “Grand Au Sable Dunes” are pictured above.
As Jane and I passed this very isolated and forlorn end of the world we made plans in our minds to someday and
somehow come back to this out-of-the-way place to explore from the shore side. (It would be ten years but we did
make it. That trip made a spectacular adventure filled with the very best of memories.)
This was a long trip at a speed of 6.5 knots or the equivalent of 7.475 statute miles per hour, using our diesel
engine. To put this in prospective our average cross-country bicycling speed is about twelve statute miles per hour.
An interesting fact is that the boat was capable of 10.5 knots of speed under sail or the equivalent of 12.075 statute
miles per hour. I must admit that we seldom were able to sail on the Great Lakes to optimum speeds because of the
winds which seemed to be almost always excessively too much or too little.
We were this day headed toward one of the most treacherous places on all of Lake Superior, this is a place called
Whitefish Bay. What makes it so bad for vessels of all sizes is the fact that the prevailing storm winds come out of
Canada and from the northwest and funnel down the lake converging into this shallow bay where the seas abruptly
build into mountainous waves. Those waves then make maneuvering nearly impossible and thus many a vessel has
met its demise there.
At 4:55 PM we had a fix of our position at 46° 46.3’ north latitude and 87° 12.7’ west longitude. The strange thing
was that on our entire trip, up to this point, we hadn’t needed to record the water depth because we were always in
profoundly deep water. Well, here we were in 50 feet of water and in twenty minutes we would be abeam the
Vermillion Point Coast Guard Station and in 39 feet of water.
Jane doesn’t like it when she is so close to shore that she can see it or in water so shallow that it can be recorded
on our depth sounder. Being far out to sea is definitely more relaxing but as I always like to point out “you can see a
long ways but you can’t see much, it’s all scenery with nothing to obstruct your view”.
This long boating day was over at 6:55 PM when we finally pulled into a small newly made harbor at Whitefish Point
within Whitefish Bay. I should point out that the little fishing community was not new, just the breakwater that
surrounded it.
Below you can see our vessel the Dursmirg docked at the Brown Fishery dock at Whitefish Point.
This turned out to be an interesting stopover because the next day when we were planning to leave the dock, we
couldn’t because a forceful wind had us pinned solidly against the dock where we were wedged between pilings.
We thought we had better take advantage of our forced layover day and put our bicycles ashore to do some
sightseeing.
This little outpost is situated at the end of a long road that only goes to this spot where the population could be
counted on your fingers and they like their privacy as we soon found out. At first we thought the few locals we
encountered were just unfriendly but then we realized that they were living here because they liked their privacy and
we then certainly could appreciate their standoffishness.
We rode our bicycles to the lighthouse at the end of the road that marked the entry to Whitefish Bay from Lake
Superior. There an enormous foghorn was situated that was supposed to be able to be heard for ten miles.
The nice surprise was that Jane with her abilities to sniff out wild berries quickly found copious quantities of
blueberries and we filled several buckets full in no time at all. Along the shoreline the season for berries is much
later than inland away from the influence of the cold waters of the lake. In winter the opposite is true and the lake
actually helps hold the temperatures up compared to the inland places that often have minus 40 degree Fahrenheit.
Next it was back to our boat and my top priority job would now be to connect up our new diesel fuel fired galley
range. We had just received shipment of it before we set sail from Superior, Wisconsin. We had had no time to
connect it until this time because our top priority was to make our vessel move under its own power so that we
wouldn’t be stuck with another winter in those frozen northern latitudes.
Among other things we also carried aboard a full selection of tools that enabled me to perform just about any type of
maintenance and fabrication job related to the boat. We even carried an oxyacetylene welding and cutting rig.
The blueberry pies were fabulous and at our age then we were able to put away copious quantities of any kind of
food, and this day we did. Jane had her Swedish tradition of cooking plus her own natural abilities that I have been
forever thankful for. The number one rule aboard a sea going vessel is never to “upset the cook”…the crew always
pays dearly for a sea cook in bad humor. (Of course sailors use much cruder words)
August 31st, 1972 at 8:15 AM we had cast off our dock lines and proceeded out of the protective little harbor at
Whitefish Point with a strong wind blowing in from the southwest that enabled us to get away from the dock. The
wind would soon come around to the northwest and make the lake a miserable place to be; therefore we made haste
to get across Whitefish Bay before it became an intolerable place for boaters.
As we entered the bay we caught our first glimpse of the Canadian shore and soon would have it close abeam as we
approached the Soo Locks at the town of Sault Saint Marie, Michigan. The twin cities are both named Sault Saint
Marie and one is in United States and the other in Canada. The US side has four locks side by side and are kept
very busy with over 5,000 vessels transiting each season. The Canadian side has one lock also.
Lake Superior, being the highest of all of the Great Lakes at 604 feet above sea level, drains down twenty-one feet
at this point.
As we approached the lock area on this very windy morning the commercial shipping traffic became amazingly
congested and the size of our vessel seemed to diminish dramatically among these monsters that were up to one
thousand feet in length.
Jane and I heard some one calling to us to pull over to the sea wall but couldn’t see any one around. Finally we
discovered that we were being summonsed via a loudspeaker system and we tried to dock up against the sea wall
but the fierce wind made that maneuver almost impossible. I pointed our bow up to the sea wall and a man came
down to receive our dock line but then decided that we could just give him our documentation number and some
other statistics. Jane was standing on the bow and was happy that we wouldn’t be required to tie up because that
would be a difficult maneuver under the circumstances with the building winds. We were happy to have the “Big Sea
Waters” of Lake Superior behind us and felt several different emotions as we then pointed our bow into the awaiting
lock that we would be able to transit completely by ourselves.
We had built the boat with our own hands, launched it, and just sailed it across the length of the largest fresh water
lake in the world and now our creation that seemed incredibly enormous as it sat in our backyard was diminished in
size to a very insignificant thing within the “MacArthur Lock” at Sault Saint Marie, Michigan. Another emotion we felt
was of leaping off a tall building and being free to float in mid-air. That feeling of freedom was also coupled with the
realization that we were totally responsible for our own survival in a very hostile environment.
At 1:55 PM we were on our way out of the MacAuther Lock after our 21 foot descent from the level of Lake Superior
to the level of Lake Huron and Lake Michigan.
In the photo above you can see that we were laden with too many of our toys from our previous life and
the canoe would be one of the first things we would have to dispense with. It was just too much to lug
along. We loved it very much but our new life of travels upon big seas and through countless more
locks made carrying it along impossible.
After exiting the lock we docked at a municipal wharf adjacent to a hydroelectric plant in downtown Sault Saint Marie,
Michigan.
We put our bicycles ashore and set out to see the town and some of the surrounding area.
When we returned to the lock area we were treated to a rare sight and that was the largest lake freighter of all being
locked through. This vessel was built to the specifications of the lock and just fit in with inches to spare.
(
Stewart J. Cort slowly approaches and enters the Poe Lock
Oh, by the way! (Here are the specifications for the Stewart J. Cort)
The Lakes' first 1000-footer had its start in the yards of the Ingalls Shipbuilding Corporation of Pascagoula,
Mississippi, in 1970. The unusual-looking vessel was known as "Hull 1173" but acquired the nickname "Stubby" due
to its appearance. Hull 1173 consisted of the Cort's bow and stern sections, 182 feet long and 75 feet wide (the
reduced width was necessary to pass through the St. Lawrence Seaway and Welland Canal locks). The vessel
made its way up to the Lakes in 1971 where it was cut apart (following the "Cut Here" instructions painted on the
hull) and the two ends were fastened to the 818-foot long midbody at Erie Marine in Erie, Pennsylvania.
This photo is of the waters downstream from the Soo Locks with Canada on the opposite shore and to
the right in the photo is the long hydroelectric plant where we had our boat, the Dursmirg, docked.
Oh, by the way!
The following is a description of locks with some specifications:
THE LOCKS AT SAULT STE. MARIE, MICHIGAN
Operated by the U.S. Army, Corps of Engineers
Watching the huge vessels pass through the Soo locks is a unique experience that cannot be seen anywhere else
in the United States. There are locks in the 26 mile Welland Canal, built to bypass Niagara Falls, but the maximum
size vessel is 740' long and 78' wide. The locks at the Soo will hold the huge 1000' freighters used on the Great
Lakes.
You can watch the "Lakers" and the "Salties"(ocean-going vessels) as they travel the seaway between ports and
see them rise or drop the 21 feet between the levels of the St. Mary's River. There is an upper viewing area so you
are able to look down on the vessels as they lock through or stand almost close enough to touch them.
The locks operate most of the year, but are closed from Jan 15 to March 25 for maintenance. The locks are closed
for longer periods if the weather is severe.
The Poe and the MacArthur Locks are in use at this time. The MacArthur is the lock closest to the viewing area and
will handle vessels up to 800 feet long, 80 feet wide and 31 feet deep.
The big 1000' Lakers need to use the second lock (The Poe) that is 1200' long, 110' wide and 32 feet deep. The
MacArthur Lock was built in 1943 and the Poe Lock was built in 1968. The two other locks, Davis and Sabin are
closed.
The Davis Lock was built in 1918 and the Sabin Lock was built in 1919. Both these locks are too shallow (only 23
feet deep). A new and even bigger lock is planned which would take up the space now used by the Davis and the
Sabin, but funding has not yet been made available.
Cargo carried by some of the vessels might include iron ore (usually taconite pellets) limestone, coal, grain, cement,
salt or sand. The huge freighter in the picture is a self-unloader carrying taconite pellets to Cleveland, Lorain,
Chicago, Gary, Burns Harbor, Indiana Harbor, Detroit, Toledo, Ashtabula, Conneaut, or another iron ore receiving
port.
Many different types of vessels pass through the locks each year, from small passenger boats to the huge vessels
carrying over 72,000 tons in cargo. Approximately 5,000 boats use the locks yearly. The number of boats using the
canal has decreased as the size of the boats has increased.
Back to our travels around the town: Jane and I found out that we could purchase all of the navigational charts
that we would need for our journey across the rest of the Great Lakes at the office located at the locks. We placed
our order, which would be ready the following day, and we were surprised that our bundle of charts cost $55.00. At
the time the price of navigational charts had just gone up to $1.25 each. We were shocked because the charts we
had purchased back in Duluth, Minnesota had cost only a $1.00 each and the year before they were just 75 cents.
The reporter from the Sault Saint Marie Evening News newspaper, E.J. Sundstrom came to interview us and do an
article in the paper that was published on September 9th. He titled it, “Superior, Wisconsin couple give up home for
adventure at sea”
Jane and I went next to indulge ourselves in some of the local history at the “River of History Museum” and the
“Johnston House Museum”. We found out that the area was rich in history and was established 1668-1671 by the
French who named it “New France”. They then clamed the country as theirs west to the Pacific Ocean and south to
the Gulf of Mexico, an area many times larger than the entire country of France.
The British took over in 1762 and retained it until it became part of the United States of
America in 1820.
Oh, by the way!
A note of interest is the fact that the United States of America purchased the land from the French that the French
had originally clamed from the Indians. That land, (known as the Louisiana Purchase), covered the area that
included the land where fifteen states now exist for fifteen million dollars or four cants an acre.
Oh, by the way!
A friend of ours, Virginia M. Soetebier, wrote a historical novel entitled, Woman of the Green Glade, that tells the
story of this area and of the early settlers. The fascinating and factual story gives a wonderful and insightful look
into the history and personal lives that makes the book a must read.
September 2nd was Jane’s birthday and we went to one of the local attractions called the “Antlers Bar” on Portage
Street. The food was good, the place interesting and filled with many curiosities from the north woods, most of which
were antlers from a variety of northern animals.
Jane was surprised and happy when the bartender checked her identification to make sure she was old enough to
drink beer. The legal age for beer drinking at the time was 18 years old and Jane was then 28. Ten years later we
returned to the same bar and restaurant for Jane’s birthday and that time she didn’t have her identification checked!
Oh, by the way!
Building the “Dursmirg” wasn’t “all work and no play”. We did make some very nice trips during the
“building years”. Some of them are below:
TRIP TO LAS VEGAS, SAN FRANCISCO AND HAWAII, SEPTEMBER, 1968
This two-week trip started in Las Vegas, then to San Francisco, and then our second week was in Hawaii. Jane’s
brother Jim Pearson was in the Navy at that time and his ship was based at Oahu, Hawaii.
Jane on balcony of hotel in Oahu, Hawaii Bing and Jim Pearson and his MG
with Diamondhead in the background
IN APRIL OF 1970 WE MADE A NINE-DAY HONEYMOON TRIP TO MEXICO CITY AND ACAPULCO,
MEXICO
TRIP TO LAS VEGAS, NEVADA AND LOS ANGELES, CALIF. NOV. 1970
We visited many of the casinos in Las Vegas. We stayed at the Mint in downtown.
We visited Knott’s Berry Farm and Disneyland in California. In California, we stayed at a hotel in
Disneyland.
COLORADO RIVER RAFTING TRIP, APRIL, 1971
We made a nine-day trip with the University of Wisconsin, Superior, geology group to make a raft trip down the
Colorado River. We made side trips to Monument Valley, Sunset Crater, Petrified Forest, Mesa Verde National
Park, Durango Colorado, and started our raft trip at Lees Ferry, Arizona. We rafted to Phantom Ranch from where
we spent two days hiking out of the canyon. It was a wonderful trip.
Water crashing over the bow of our raft On the top of Grand Canyon after hiking up
Jane resting part way up the trail Looking back down the trail
IN THE FALL OF 1971, WE MADE A BICYCLE TRIP TO BAYFIELD. We were frequent visitors to Bayfield and
made many sailing trips among the Apostle Islands. We also canoed to York Island in the Apostle’s for many long
weekends.
1971 FALL
A WEEKEND BICYCLE GET AWAY TO BAYFIELD, WISCONSIN:
In the spring of 1971 Jane’s doctor informed her that she would need to change her life style and could no longer do
the work she has been doing. Jane had been running a computer terminal for Household Finance Company; it was
the first of its kind in the U.S. Many hours of standing at that terminal was giving her severe leg pains and her doctor
told her to get a bicycle, play tennis and for sure do some kind of work that would allowed her to move around more.
Jane took her last check from work and was off to the bicycle shop to make the purchase of a new bicycle and asked
if I would like to accompany her, I said sure and we both came home with new bicycles that night. Well, we soon
found them to be a real pleasure and rode them every chance we got.
That very same fall we planned an escape from our very intense efforts on our boat-building project. The plan was
this; we would bike the 83 miles to visit our friends, Jerry and Bonnie Peterson, at Bayfield, Wisconsin.
We were up early for our departure on a frosty Saturday morning that October.
With our bicycles heavy laden carrying all of the provisions and various changes of clothing we would need we were
off. It was still quite cold as we made our first stop at a picnic table thirty miles or so from home in the Brule River
valley. We were able to remove some layers of our heavy clothing here. The coffee was a big hit and went down
even better with a small spike of brandy to smooth it out.
REST STOP AT BRULE RIVER HWY 13, JANE AND BING
As that morning turned into mid-day we had stripped off most of our clothing due to the heat of the sun that was
doing a remarkable job even at this late part of the season in northern Wisconsin. Frost occurred every night this
time of year in this part of the world.
We arrived at the small town of Port Wing just at lunch time and there was a very nice restaurant that specialized in
home cooking with blueberry and apple pies made from local fruits that made the stop a must. As hungry as we were
our backsides were so sore that the effort of disembarking the bicycles proved excruciating and it was even hard to
walk again. By the time that lunch was over we were ready to face the next leg of our trip and by three that afternoon
we were sitting at a friendly bar in Cornucopia, Wisconsin having a couple of beers and some snacks.
HIGHWAY 13, BETWEEN CORNICOPIA AND BAYFIELD
Well, we still had twenty-one miles to go to our destination and it all seemed up hill. At the top of one extremely long
hill I still remember both Jane and I collapsing in the grass alongside the road to regain our composure. Well, it was
up and on we went. At the Red Cliff Indian Reservation a pack of snapping, snarling, scruffy dogs came out to
sample our flesh. I don’t know where Jane found the strength but she was out of sight in no time. I did the best I was
able
.
BING CRASHED AT THE HILLTOP
It was well after dark when we finally arrived at out friend’s home in Bayfield, Wisconsin. Jerry and Bonnie Peterson
were waiting and as tired as we were they had to be cordial and we too felt the same. After we had finished the
pleasantries we turned in thoroughly exhausted. No sooner than we got to lie down the Peterson’s friends arrived for
an all night party. Some how we survived. The next day all six of us went for a sail on a thirty-foot Pearson sailboat
out among the Apostle Islands for an over night cruise. It was late in the season and cold but we all had the
appropriate clothing and had a marvelous time. As we were in no real hurry we went to Stockton Island for the night
as there is a public pier there. Along the way we managed to catch plenty of fish, thanks to Jerry.
SAILING JERRY AND BONNIE, BING JANE, JERRY AND BONNIE
BAYFIELD, WISCONSIN VIEWED FROM THE HILL ABOVE IT.
The next day Jane and I started our return bike trip and went as far as Jane’s parents home in Maple, Wisconsin,
which was sixty miles and spent the night. They were the finest people I knew and a real pleasure to be with.
The next day it was on to Superior and home with a stop midmorning at Jane’s grandmother’s house in Poplar,
Wisconsin, which happened to be on our way. Almost our entire trip that day was downhill and it sure did feel good.
So here was another vacation away from work and our boat-building project.
The story of Dursmirg continues with chapter 6....next chapter
Above is “Sail Rock” and to left is
the unique rock arch with very
deep water to the shore.
By 11:19 AM that morning we were
abeam another spectacular sight
which you can see below.
Postcard that Jane sent to her parents from
Hawaii on Sept. 6, 1968. Jane wrote: We’ve
been in Hawaii since Sunday. It’s a beautiful
place. Jim has been with us almost every
day. He is going out to sea tonight. We are
going to use his car and drive around the
island today. Weather is great 70-85 all the
time. It’s a great place to visit. I really hate to
leave on Sunday. Will be in Chicago on
Monday Love, Jane
Hawaii on Sept. 6, 1968. Jane wrote: We’ve
been in Hawaii since Sunday. It’s a beautiful
place. Jim has been with us almost every
day. He is going out to sea tonight. We are
going to use his car and drive around the
island today. Weather is great 70-85 all the
time. It’s a great place to visit. I really hate to
leave on Sunday. Will be in Chicago on
Monday Love, Jane
Postcard that Jane sent to her parents on
April 1, 1970 of the Malecon of Acapulco,
Mexico. Jane wrote:
We’ve been here since Monday afternoon. The
climate is beautiful, about 85 and the Pacific Ocean
is warm. Our room overlooks the Ocean. We have
been doing a lot of sightseeing and having fun.
Bing and Jane
April 1, 1970 of the Malecon of Acapulco,
Mexico. Jane wrote:
We’ve been here since Monday afternoon. The
climate is beautiful, about 85 and the Pacific Ocean
is warm. Our room overlooks the Ocean. We have
been doing a lot of sightseeing and having fun.
Bing and Jane
Postcard that Jane sent her parents on March
30, 1970 of University Library in Mexico City.
Jane wrote:
We made it to Mexico City with only short delays at
each airport. This city is beautiful, many parks and
fountains. Sunday we saw a bullfight, went to see
the Museum of Anthropology, the Pyramids and
some old Cathedrals. We’re leaving for Acapulco at
3 pm. We’re going to see the National Palace
today. Lots of fun, Love, Jane and Bing
30, 1970 of University Library in Mexico City.
Jane wrote:
We made it to Mexico City with only short delays at
each airport. This city is beautiful, many parks and
fountains. Sunday we saw a bullfight, went to see
the Museum of Anthropology, the Pyramids and
some old Cathedrals. We’re leaving for Acapulco at
3 pm. We’re going to see the National Palace
today. Lots of fun, Love, Jane and Bing
Postcard to Jane’s parents on April
4, 1971 Jane writes:
We made it to the river. Tomorrow A.M.
we board our rafts and start the trip
down the Colorado. We toured all over
Colorado and Utah yesterday and
today. Hope Dad has a short stay in
the hospital. Happy Easter
Jane and Bing
4, 1971 Jane writes:
We made it to the river. Tomorrow A.M.
we board our rafts and start the trip
down the Colorado. We toured all over
Colorado and Utah yesterday and
today. Hope Dad has a short stay in
the hospital. Happy Easter
Jane and Bing
Well, the pier was full of other boaters so Jerry
wanted to move on. We went around the island
and dropped the anchor for the night. Well, the
next morning the engine failed to start which is a
common occurrence on the boats of the rental
fleet. We set sail and had to go back around the
island so that Jerry could show off all of the fish
he had landed. He also didn’t want to clean fish
on board the boat so we docked at Stockton to
clean them.
We had a spirited sail back to the marina at
Bayfield that day and we didn’t manage to make
the engine run so again I had the opportunity to
sail up to the dock.
wanted to move on. We went around the island
and dropped the anchor for the night. Well, the
next morning the engine failed to start which is a
common occurrence on the boats of the rental
fleet. We set sail and had to go back around the
island so that Jerry could show off all of the fish
he had landed. He also didn’t want to clean fish
on board the boat so we docked at Stockton to
clean them.
We had a spirited sail back to the marina at
Bayfield that day and we didn’t manage to make
the engine run so again I had the opportunity to
sail up to the dock.
