Weather, various commitments and other real or imagined responsibilities modified our planned departure on August 4, 1999. Finally we joined several waiting boats to share the 3:30 p.m. raising of the Duluth Aerial Lift Bridge for “non-commercial” traffic. The lake was calm - almost placid. Regarding our reasonably new crew of Tracy and Duncan MacLean, I had to wonder just how this calm departure might make into this “Journal.”

If this is your first reading of my column, please understand that in the preceding issue I shared my concern for the heat energy accumulating in Lake Superior. This mass of water - some 10 percent of the world’s fresh water - might sometimes be described as a “ticking time bomb!” Seasoned skippers describe the accumulating heat - “energy” to the rest of us - as a “payment to be reckoned with….”

I was, honestly, a bit afraid of revisiting the very top of Lake Superior a full month behind my preferred mid-weeks of July. As noted in my last “Journal,” retired Inland Steel fleet Captain Dudley Paquette had warned us in detail of the dangers of August at the top of Lake Superior.

But we were finally under way, and the weather and the lake were simply beautiful! It was fitting to pull into the Knife River (Minnesota) Marina, 17 miles up the shore, long a traditional fuel stop. The soon-to-retire Sandy Bugge topped off our tanks, wistfully explaining that it might very well be one of the last times as retirement beckons. She and her husband, Pete, have cared for this marina for 15 years.

Shadows of evening massaged our last seven miles, where we found a pleasant night tied to the Two Harbors, Minnesota, inner breakwater. With earliest light we were again under way, a calm sea and good visibility gracing our passage.

How else to say it? It didn’t last! Brightening blue skies, dotted with pregnant cumulus clouds and stronger wind encouraged rough seas. Our Skipper Sam II was almost enjoying the challenge of increasing seas, while discussion of the new Silver Bay Marina and Harbor of Refuge made increasing sense. Oh, so long discussed, so long promised.

The entry to the new Silver Bay Marina was clearly marked, but in defense of potential storm-driven waves, it is not excessive in size. If you boat Minnesota’s north shore of Lake Superior, you should acquire the new chart that clearly reflects this exceptionally fine marina. The quality is exceeded only by the fine local and state people who have made it an absolute goal to “do it right!”

This marina is the largest such undertaking the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources has ever been involved in. Seasoned, skilled DNR experts gave months of their time - and countless weekends - assuring that this new venture would be good for the users, the neighbors and the state of Minnesota.

Construction of more “harbors of refuge” is under way. Safety for our boaters is the overall goal.

After a rest and a favorable weather report, we untied the moorings and carefully cleared this remarkable new harbor. Soon Palisade Head graced our port (or left) side, visitors waving from the top of this incredible viewpoint. As usual, climbers graced the vertical walls of the “face” and several skilled kayakers paused to admire the climbers’ talents. As you readers know so well, we all love our lake, but in so many different ways.

Well, it didn’t take long for August to again assert itself. If more than 30 years of boating Lake Superior’s north shore didn’t teach me, I must not have been listening. Moving along the shore, we knew that Taconite Harbor was now less than 30 miles away. But, in my mind, as I regarded the growing seas, I wished it were significantly closer.

By the time the shelter of Taconite Harbor was at hand, almost no voices pleaded for quick passage of the 34 more miles to Grand Marais, Minnesota. The weather remained reasonably clear, the wind significant from the northeast, the seas - as I noted in my log - were “significant.” Sheltered in the outside breakwater, but within the harbor, we found the tired, but still afloat, “antique” can that gave us mooring. We’ve tied to that beat-up, rusted can for at least 30 years, expecting the tired chain to keep us safe for yet another visit.

For some obscure reason, Jan and Tracy voted for “a few hours to calm down” and perhaps a “nap” while safely tied to the mooring. Oddly, the nap came almost without warning - and it FELT GREAT!

Rousing after a brief (I hoped) respite, the picture startlingly clear out of our aft (stern) windows was a number of piled giant rocks not far away! We’d swung around as the developing northwest wind increased, and the calmed seas now made Grand Marais the destination. Getting under way, Skipper Sam II ignored the significantly strong but weakening seas.

It didn’t take long to realize that we were not the only visitors to this fine little community on this fine weekend. Once a year, in early August, the Grand Marais “Fisherman’s Picnic” attracts thousands. And what fun. More varieties of food than can possibly be eaten, music, entertainment and awards!

Grand Marais, Minnesota’s annual Fisherman’s Picnic offers good eats and events like 
this year’s fire-dousing demonstration by the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources. 
LAKE SUPERIOR MAGAZINE

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Lake Superior Magazine’s Cindy and Paul Hayden were there to participate in the event, and we joined them for an interesting ride up the Gunflint Trail. The terrible wind storm of early July destroyed many square miles of the Superior National Forest and the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. Millions of trees were blown down by winds in excess of 100 miles per hour, laying waste to resorts, campgrounds and portages. It is considered another chapter in the survival of the wilderness, but what damage!

Once back at the boat, the violent weather system forecast for the north shore finally arrived. It was a good time to “hole up” and let the open lake do its thing, making our sheltered boat mooring welcome. It also was a convenient “crew change” dock, as Tracy and Duncan traded berths with Sally Brown and Stan Salmi, loading their gear into Stan’s car and driving back to Duluth.

Under way again, we discussed the next destination. Calm seas and sunshine prevailed, but the weather report called for significant easterly winds developing. Grand Portage, at 34 miles, won out over the 46-mile leg to Isle Royale. The day was pleasant, but the easterly winds did develop, confirming that we had made the right decision. Tying up on Kek Melby’s fuel dock in Grand Portage Bay was perfect.

Melby’s Voyageurs Marina is the result of many years of hard work and continuing challenge. The main north shore departure for Isle Royale National Park, this strong and service-oriented facility is much appreciated by transient and local boaters.

Grand Portage Bay contains an island, and north shore islands usually have a story. Pete’s Island, as it is known, still bears the remains of the large dock where the steamer America stopped several times a week from 1904 to its sinking in 1928. This 180-foot passenger and freight boat, owned and managed by Booth Fisheries, could not go farther into the shallow bay, so quite a little facility developed around the dock. The America traveled between Duluth and Port Arthur, Ontario making dozens of stops to pick up fish or to deliver supplies to the many fishing families who had settled the north shore and Isle Royale.

I first learned of the “Pete’s Island” mystery years ago, but for what it’s worth, the legend survives. Pete was in possession of the island and enjoyed some kind of relationship with Booth, handling passengers and freight traffic as needed for years. It was said that he “didn’t trust banks” and thus buried his accumulating wealth in jars and cans somewhere on this remote island. Other stories say he stashed his money in Canadian banks. Few old timers believed that.

Okay, confession time. I’d heard this fabled story of Pete’s unbridled wealth, buried somewhere on this island, since the early ’60s. We learned that he had passed on to his eternal reward in the 1930s, and no one - supposedly - had ever found his hidden wealth. By the mid-1960s, I was spending quite a bit of time around Grand Portage and that darn island and the story just wouldn’t go away. We’d acquired title to the sunken steamer America and were involved in attempting to float her, so I had to go by Pete’s Island often.

Finally giving in, I bought a very expensive metal detector. Yes right - a damned expensive metal detector. It was supposed to ignore simple metal bottle caps, seeking instead precious metals that would assure me of Cadillacs, Mercedes and 10-speed bicycles. Sharing my secret project with a Canadian friend, we used a flat-water day to journey to Pete’s Island where we would extricate our entitled fortune.

Let’s pretend that you’ve got an extra day with nothing on your calendar, so come along with us to this “unexplored bit of real America.” Oh-oh, look at how you’re dressed … you’d better stay in the boat!

We spent more than seven hours on the fabled island, and concluded in total exhaustion that wherever Pete was - in Heaven’s or the Devil’s choir - he must be in hysterics!

That island is choked with dead trees long fallen, younger trees in abundance and angled deadfalls impossible to penetrate in any reasonable way. I’ve since heard stories of some folks finding a coffee can full of money, but if they did, they certainly DESERVE IT!

Pete, while some doubt you are singing in Heaven’s Choir, if your money is really there, it is SAFE!

Time to leave Grand Portage. With full fuel and the beauty of the Susie Islands and Canada ahead, we rounded Hat Point and paused to salute the famed and tenacious “Witch Tree,” or “Spirit Little Cedar Tree,” respected by area Ojibway people. After 300 years, it still grows out of solid rock. Noted by many passing explorers as long ago as the late 1700s, it is now fortunately shielded from thoughtless visitors who were carving their initials in it.

Pausing in Clarks Bay, really the last sheltered American harbor as we moved north, less than ripe blueberries explained that they need “a few more days.”

More of the trip to the Canadian shore in a future column.

A selection of Jim Marshall’s columns of lake lore and his inland sea voyages has been published as Lake Superior Journal: Views from the Bridge by Lake Superior Port Cities Inc. Follow this link for more information.

Feedback: jrm@lakesuperior.com