Around the Inner Circle

by

Travel

We fell in love while sailing on Lake Superior, and the Lake is a part of our on-going love affair and our lives.

We’ve driven the circle tour three times, guided people on hiking tours around the Lake, and, in 2010, undertook our most adventurous, rewarding journey – a walk around all four shores to experience the watery ecosystem. Our journey became Going Full Circle, published by Lake Superior Magazine in 2012.

We also have ridden “on” the Lake. It was, after all, aboard the Izmir – a 42-foot ketch we used to take people exploring the Apostle Islands – that we kindled our love of the Lake and each other. (Hard to believe it was 39 years ago I wrote about our wedding and honeymoon aboard Izmir for this magazine.)

One thing we had never done was to traverse the Lake from the inside, on its water from end to end and along its distinctive shores. We got that chance last year when Pearl Seas Cruise decided to add the greatest of the Great Lakes to its itinerary for Pearl Mist, a 200-passenger cruise ship on which Mike has worked four years as a “guest speaker.” I was to be Mike’s “guest” on the voyage.

While Great Lakes cruise ships are getting a revival, we actually were joining a long cruising history. Tourists have taken such cruises since the 1800s when Palace steamships began carrying cargo and passengers. By 1900, luxurious steamers were common on the lower lakes, especially in industrial centers like Chicago, Milwaukee and Detroit. 

The first well-known cruise ships were Anchor Line’s triplets launched in 1871 – India, China and Japan. The ships sailed from Buffalo to Duluth every 14 days. These luxurious vessels featured a main cabin that ran the full length of the deckhouse, a gentlemen’s smoking room and barbershop, and a ladies’ drawing room, complete with piano. All 43 cabins had a washbasin with running water from a small tank above the basin. The ships could carry 120 passengers and were usually full in each direction.  

As was common at the time, the ships carried a combination of passengers and package freight. Westbound they carried everything from household goods to hardware; eastbound, it was mainly grain from Duluth and iron ore or copper ingots from Houghton, Mich. As the popularity of cruising grew, the freight decks were converted to cabin space, to be replaced by luxury observation suites.

At the end of the 19th century, two of the finest cruise ships ever built – Northland and Northwest – were made for the Northern Steamship Company in Cleveland. Beginning in 1894, they could carry 400 passengers and 147 crew. The ships had 1,200 electric lights, more than any ocean liner of that time. There were 108 two-berth cabins, four larger cabins, nine parlor suites and two public baths in the barbershop. The round-trip fare from Buffalo to Duluth would cost you $30, and the menu was extensive. Their biggest porterhouse steak, truffles, julienne potatoes, a side of lobster and a glass of milk cost $2.90 – 50 cents extra for room service. 

At one point, 30 cruise lines sailed in the Upper Great Lakes, but by the 1970s, the cruise industry had declined with growth of the U.S. highway system and regional airlines. Regulations like the 1896 Passenger Vessel Services Act and gambling restrictions also hindered the industry. But in the last few years, there has been a resurgence in Great Lakes cruising. Last year, 20,000 passengers were expected to take Great Lakes cruises, double what it was in 2014. Among the lines operating are Pearl Seas Cruises, Viking Cruises, Victory Cruise Lines and Hapag-Lloyd.

Estimates predict the cruises will bring $230 million in economic benefits to the region in 2025. The passenger profile for someone taking a cruise on the Pearl Mist is generally older, averaging in the 70s or 80s, and driven by a curiosity about a less-traveled part of the country. These are well-established travelers who have never sailed the Great Lakes but might remember memorizing their five names in elementary school.

Great Lakes fares tend to be higher than those of ocean cruises, reflecting the high pilot costs and docking fees and the smaller ships with fewer passengers to spread the cost. Prices range from $7,000 to $40,000 for a premium cabin. Great Lakes cruises average an occupancy rate of about 85%,

The small ships promote an intimate setting, so it is easy to get to know others on board. There is no assigned seating for meals, and happy hour on the Pearl Mist is a popular amenity included in the cost of the trip. On-board activities include live music, informative and entertaining talks (this is where Mike comes in), cribbage matches, bingo, culinary classes and even art classes. Pearl Mist carries 210 passengers. 

On the trip I took, we boarded in Duluth. Others were disembarking from a trip that began in Toronto, where we would end up. Because the seawall area in front of Duluth’s DECC was still under construction, the ship had to anchor in the harbor and shuttle passengers to shore via the tender. This year happily, the ships can tie up right at the seawall.  

After mandatory safety procedures, Pearl Mist sailed out under the Aerial Lift Bridge through the Duluth Ship Canal. People on the piers waved, and we waved back.  We followed the Minnesota shore to Thunder Bay. The dark evergreen forests cloaking the hills gave a sense of seeing the remote land as the explorers had so long ago. I spotted faint lights close to shore and realized we were passing Grand Marais.

Our first stop was Thunder Bay, where the ship tied up at Port Arthur Landing next to the newer waterfront parks and amenities. None of this was there in 2010 when we did our walk.  The beautiful rehabilitation sported a splash park, a view of Thunder Bay’s unique pagoda visitor center, plus the old depot still hosting a restaurant and a new hotel. One local man we talked to said that in the ’50s when he was a kid the area was so industrial, you couldn’t get near the water. It’s now transforming into a green, user-friendly waterfront.

At cruise stops, you can choose different excursions. Here, some went to nearby Kakabeka Falls, while others, like us, enjoyed a sailboat ride around the harbor on the monohull Frodo. Captain Greg Heroux, owner of Sail Superior, has sailed the world but prefers the top of Lake Superior by Wawa, Rossport and Thunder Bay because of the numerous islands. You don’t see anyone on those islands, says Greg, unlike the more frequented Apostle Islands in Wisconsin. Greg also likes the challenge of the Lake’s many moods. “One day it is smooth sailing, the next you worry.”

On board Pearl Mist again, we relished the observations of others traveling the Lake shores for the first time.

June Ferrari and her husband, Justin, from southern Idaho had never been to this part of the country or ever seen the Great Lakes. June appreciated Thunder Bay and its history. She marveled at learning for the first time about the shipbuilding there during World War II.

We overheard another passenger say, “The geology is so interesting. And watching the unloading of grain. I can’t believe how long it takes to unload tons of grain.”

The next morning arrived with blue skies and calm seas.  The ship sailed to Silver Islet, the site of the old silver mine dug into the lakebed beneath the water.  Despite water pumps in the mine, the oft stormy Lake eventually flooded the shaft; the mine permanently closed in 1884.

Passengers rode the tender to a dock that led to the Silver Islet General Store and Tea Room, where the smell of fresh cinnamon rolls drew us in.  June couldn’t stop raving about sweets. “They are the best I’ve ever had – a cross between a scone and cinnamon roll, but not sticky!” She arranged to a get a kit/recipe mailed from the store owner, Jeff Korkola, so she could make her own next year.

With a local for a guide (that turned out to be Jeff), we walked the avenue past homes, some of them original miner cabins built in the 1800s in front of and on top of the black basaltic rock. All of Silver Islet is off the grid with residents using either solar or wind to power their homes.

We landed in mid-July, so flowers were blooming. The heady smell of lilacs enhanced the treat of watching monarch butterflies flit among the flowers. Gulls screeched as they chased and dive bombed a bald eagle out over the water. 

With stormy weather coming from the west, we left Silver Islet a few hours early as a precaution. Who wants to be on the Lake Superior when the waves begin to build? We followed the Ontario shoreline and crossed at Sault St. Marie into Michigan during the night. Before the sun set, we passed the remote Michipicoten Island, and it brought us pleasant memories.

For 10 days during our 2010 walk, we traveled by voyageur canoe along the Pukaskwa Peninsula. One day Michipicoten Island rose off to our left as we headed west, and Cindy, one of our 14-member paddling crew, made up a song “Michipicoten” to the tune of “Little Boxes” sung by Pete Seeger. We sang loudly like the voyageurs of old, and like “les chansons” were for them, the song was the inspiration we needed to keep paddling through the waves and wind. 

Since the Lake did not demonstrate its power (thankfully) as we sailed from Thunder Bay, past Isle Royale then for a stop in Marquette and finally east to Sault St. Marie, the cruise passengers did not sense the tremendous strength that lay beneath us. Many watched a video about the ill-fated Edmund Fitzgerald and knew – intellectually at least – what was possible. I admit I was a bit anxious being out in the middle of this vast Lake, but our ship usually stayed close enough to see the shore.

After the Soo Locks, we went through U.S. customs, having come from Thunder Bay. Then, suddenly it seemed, we were on Lake Michigan.

I wondered before the trip how others would react to being on Lake Superior. My queries elicited very similar responses – “Fantastic!” “Unbelievable!” and “Beautiful!” – from the passengers we knew only by first names.

“We’ve ridden on our motorcycles around the lakes, so we know they’re big, but you can’t truly appreciate how big until you are on the water, and you can’t see the other side,” said Linda. “It’s like an ocean.”

Even seasoned sailors like Great Lakes pilot Sean Liljegren from Duluth observed, “When you leave Whitefish Point, it feels like you’re heading out to sea. You cannot see land on either side, unlike the other Great Lakes.”

The ports of call stood out for many passengers. Bobby and Rob commented on how the water went from smooth as glass to choppy after it rained. “When you go to the Caribbean,” one or the other observed, “every stop at a town is the same. Here every stop is different and fun.”

Kat Archer, a resident musician on board, had done trips on the other Great Lakes, but never on Lake Superior. “On Superior,” she said, “I feel like I am on a different planet. There’s definitely a different energy here.” 

After Mike’s talk about shipwrecks on the Lake, she admitted, it “also feels like sailing over a graveyard.” Others shared their appreciation of all Mike’s presentations on history and culture.

As for Mike and I, heading across Lake Michigan, we considered the contrasts of our Lake Superior journeys. 

Seeing the shore from the ship captures the complex combination of landform and communities, but lacks the intimacy that walking the shore gave us. Covering every foot of coast is like looking at the Lake through a microscope; cruising by is a video panorama. Our walk took months; the cruise was two weeks. On land, our journey was private, remote, a mostly silent and sometimes painful experience; on water we traveled in sociable comfort. Walking you have to be aware of what’s under your feet so you don’t stumble or fall (though on sandy beaches, you can let your mind wander or fixate on a topic – more like daydreaming than meditation). On the ship, we watch the water roll under us, feeling swell after swell and letting our minds drift on thoughts large and small.

This cruise was coming back to where our love affair with the Lake and with each other began – on a boat on the water. Now we truly have come full circle on Lake Superior. 

Kate Crowley is the author of books, magazine articles and newspaper columns. She lives with her husband, Mike Link, and their dog, Poncho, next to General C.C. Andrews State Forest on 20 acres of prairie and forest that they call Dry Harbor.