Washington Harbor

  They had been slowly making their way through the fog by boat off the western end of Isle Royale. Nearly half an hour of travel and still they saw nothing. “It should be right in front of us,” said the skipper who had been following his GPS, “I can hear the waves hitting the rock.” The Rock of Ages Lighthouse, colloquially known as “The Rock,” lies fifteen miles east of Minnesota’s north shore and two and a half miles west of the islands that are part of Isle Royale National Park. Only accessible by boat, the ten-story lighthouse sits on a 50 by 210-foot long rock that projects up from a more extensive underwater reef, home to three shipwrecks from the late 19th and early 20th century. It was those hazards to shipping that prompted its construction in 1907. Mary Hennessy was on her first trip as a newly minted volunteer for the Rock of Ages Lighthouse Preservation Society (ROALPS). She and three others made up a work team that had spent the previous day waiting out the weather at the

Here at home, having made the six hour trip back from Grand Portage, I’m giving thought to what may be taken from three weeks in an island National Park supporting a history preservation group working to bring the experience of a 20th century lighthouse to the public. Aside from being one of the most satisfying, therapeutic, nostalgic volunteer experiences of my retirement career, it’s also a thought provoker on the significance of history preservation. Why restore a 115 year old lighthouse planted on a rock at one end of a very large island in the middle of Lake Superior in the first place? Whom does it serve? The National Park Service? Why? The volunteers who make it happen? That’s a pretty small group in the end. Visitors to the park? That starts to make some sense.   For that matter, why is historic preservation a thing? According to the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966, “The Congress finds and declares that — 1) the spirit and direction of the Nation are founded upon an

The end of week three is approaching. My replacement boat operator, Jill, has spent the past week at the Rock, scraping and painting and scraping and painting, along with Jeff and Scott. This was Scotts second week as crew leader. Reports are that he keeps everyone working hard, as evidenced by the fact that all objectives for each week were met, and the teams still had almost two full days to enjoy Barnum Island.  Crew Leader Scott, Cameraman Jeff, and Boat Captain Jill Jill is also a veteran, working her fifth year at the lighthouse, but also as the boat operator that originally brought the Rock Hopper out for its first season on the Island. She’s going to do the same this year, but in reverse - bringing it back to Grand Portage at the conclusion of next week. However, this will be her first time ferrying volunteers out to the lighthouse. Hopefully this relatively calm weather holds. It’s obvious she has experience working in the field on environmental projects for the EPA, some o

  “But there was another sound on the lake, the steam whistle of a ship in the fog. And you can imagine his shock, when he saw from his vantage point at the top of the Lighthouse, the mast of a steamship moving through the fog at full speed. Continuing to Sound the Foghorn, (Rock of Ages lighthouse keeper) Soldenski fully expected the ship to steer away, but the minutes passed, and its fate was sealed. He heard the sound of grinding metal, as the Steamship George M. Cox, passengers just sitting down for their evening meal, dragged herself over the reef. Distress whistles cut through the still air with a piercing chill. Quickly Soldenski prepared his own motor launch and headed out into the fog towards the wreck.” Each Saturday the Crew Leader fulfills a commitment to the Park Service on the part of ROALPS to present the history of the Rock of Ages Lighthouse and the Preservation Society to park goers as part of the Rangers Interpretive Talk series. In that presentation, reference is

Unlike the volunteers living and working at the rock, the boat operator does not work all day long in a sometimes cold and humid tower, traipse up and down up to nine flights of stairs or listen to wind howling, waves crashing. We also don’t catch the beautiful sunrises and sunsets from on high or have a 360-degree view of the night sky. The boat operator, when not operating the boat to transport folks to and from Windigo and the Rock, plays Uber, waiting for a service call from the light, if any. So the days those volunteers work at that lighthouse, we do odd jobs. Some defined - like painting the outside of the headquarters cabin - and lots of jobs we think up ourselves. Performing boat repairs like wiring or sealing small holes in the roof left by the Park Service when they removed equipment in the past, or re-anchoring hand holds. Cleaning this, organizing that. Sitting on the rocks, observing boat traffic, working the row boat to visit neighbors. You know…odd jobs. One of those

  The S.S. AMERICA departing Duluth in 1909 “Soon after clearing the dock in Washington Harbor, Captain Smith turned command of AMERICA over to First Mate John Wick, with Fred Nelson at the wheel, and retired to his cabin behind the bridge. Five minutes later AMERICA thudded over a reef, bumping four times and tearing a small hole through its single bottom below the engine room on the starboard side.”  Thom Holden, in S.S. America - A Diver’s Vision of the Past, Stephen B. Daniel and Thom Holden, February, 2001 Much has been written about the sinking of the steamer AMERICA, a 165 foot passenger and package freighter that served communities up and down the north and south shores of western Lake Superior for 26 years early in the 19th century. Lying in only five feet of water at her bow, she can still be seen by slowly passing through the North Gap, between Thompson Island and Isle Royale, at the southwest end of Isle Royale. That gap is just across the inlet to Washington Harbor from Ba