Reading has been a constant in my life ever since I was little, and in the same way people talk about the core memories that shaped their youth, I have core books that made me the person I am today. I recall my favorite part of kindergarten was read out loud time, and as I grew up, this turned into what many Leland students know as Accelerated Reading (AR) in the elementary years. Some of my favorite books today were introduced to me during read out loud, and a certain series of picture books stick out in my mind to this day. 
At any library you visit in Michigan, I can guarantee that you’ll find the “Legend of” series written by Kathy-jo Wargin. For anyone unfamiliar with this collection, they each tell a different story that stems from a local legend, and many, if not most, relate to our lovely state of Michigan. From the Legend of the Petoskey Stone, to the Legend of the Loon, my favorite has always been the Legend of the Sleeping Bear Dunes. I still remember the feeling of heartbreak after the first time it was read to me, and even as a child the depth and beauty of this book tore me apart. It’s here that we begin our story.
The book opens with a mother bear and her two cubs living in the forest along the Wisconsin shoreline of Lake Michigan. One night, a wildfire starts and the family is forced to swim across the lake towards Michigan to escape the flames. The mother bear makes it across, but her two cubs never reach land, disappearing beneath the surface right before reaching shore. Sitting atop a hill overlooking the lake, she waits for them. Day after day, night after night, she waits. Sand begins blowing onto her from the wind as the months go by. To bring peace to the grieving mother, a Great Spirit brings the cubs to the surface to be closer to her watchful eye. Fully covered by sand after all these years, the mother rests beneath the Sleeping Bear Dunes, and just offshore the cubs peek up over the water as the North and South Manitou Islands. Even in death, the mother bear keeps watch over her cubs from afar. Just thinking about it, the story still pains me.
This story sets the scene for my latest adventure on Lake Michigan. Coming into this summer as an intern for the Fishtown Preservation Society (FPS), I knew I wanted one of my experiences to encapsulate the story of the Manitou Islands. I realized this was going to be difficult to figure out, due to the ongoing construction taking place on both island docks, leaving the Manitou Ferry unable to run for the season. I knew that somehow I’d have to find another way out. Luckily, FPS has a wide network of people in Fishtown, and the nice thing about a small town is that people are usually happy to help out a friend.
The Grosvenor family has operated the Manitou Island Transit since 1917, both mail boats and passenger boats, and the transit has served as a tether of communication between the islands and the mainland. The family’s legacy has continued through Geoff Niessink, grandson of Captain George Grosvenor, who now operates his own boat, the Manitou. As a fifth generation Grosvenor, he knows these waters like the back of his hand. This year, much of Geoff’s time is spent driving contractors, and construction workers to and from the islands, as well as captaining trips to the Crib for tours that are offered by the North Manitou Light Keepers (NMLK). In the short time that I’ve known Geoff, his passion and dedication to lend a hand to people has been apparent. Even just speaking to my friend and me, you could feel the excitement and joy he has for the work he does. Almost like a walking history book, he knew the answer to every question we asked, and was happy just to be out on the water. When a person has grown up somewhere, they have a certain way of speaking that indicates the ties they have to a place, and the admiration Geoff has for the land and water speaks for itself. 
The morning of June 25, Geoff was originally supposed to bring some electricians out to the Crib, but due to unforeseen circumstances they had to cancel. Geoff was kind enough to still offer to drive my friend and I out to the lighthouse, but the thing about weather on the Great Lakes—it’s never reliable. Though it was calm near shore, by the time we got out to the Crib the waves were just large enough that it made docking safely near impossible. As disappointed as we were, there was still hope for a future visit to the Crib via a tour by the NMLK, so we decided to shoot for another visit in the future. Rocky waters aside, we were glad to have been able to make it out on the boat in the first place. Even though we couldn’t go inside, seeing the Crib up close was a great experience after all these years. I’ve heard of people taking boat trips out to visit this elusive lighthouse, and I can finally mark it off my bucket list of things to see in Leelanau County, and it felt like a sneak peak of what was to come in a future visit.
I’ve only ever visited South Manitou Island once during a 4th grade field trip (where we got rained on), and had never been to North Manitou, so I was excited to make this trip with Geoff. As someone whose family has such strong ties to the island and has been taking people out on the water for over a hundred years, he is knowledgeable about the history of these places as well as the waters between the islands and mainland. This trip was also a full circle experience for me because I got to bring one of my dearest friends along for the trip. She had been with me on the South Manitou Island field trip in the 4th grade. When our childhood selves visited the south island together little did we know that eleven years later we’d once again make the trek across Lake Michigan to explore the sister island. These two islands got to meet both of us, and the way I see it, connects us to each other even more now that we’ve made the journey together twice across the Manitou Passage. As different as our lives have been between the 4th grade versions of ourselves, to who we are now as rising seniors at our respective universities, there’s nothing I value more than a reliable friendship that stands the true test of time, just as these islands have.
Fishtown is the launching point for visitors to go out and see the islands. When the docks are open to the public, the Manitou Island Transit runs multiple times a day back and forth. Fishtown serves as that connection point for so many people seeking to discover the islands and explore their history, and that remains true to this day. Visitors and locals alike are lucky that the islands are as accessible as they are due to their proximity, and it’s amazing to see the stark differences between these preserved, and (mostly) untouched islands compared to the bustling modern day life in Leland.
There was one point as we made our way to North Manitou Island when I looked back toward shore. I had the realization that I could see my entire life in Leelanau County laid out before me. From the town of Leland to the far left tucked behind Whaleback, to the peak of Sugarloaf poking up where I’d learned to ride my first bike, to the steep drop off of Pyramid Point where I’d go each summer to overlook the Lake Michigan, and all the way to the Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes that I’ve climbed more times than I can count—the entire map of places that make up my childhood appeared right in front of me, all visible as a singular long landscape. It makes me think about the story of the Sleeping Bear Dunes, and the exhausted bear family that saw the same view as I did. How encouraging it must’ve been to think of the beautiful conifers, dune grass, and sandy beaches that awaited them upon arrival. Though they did not get to live out their lives here, I imagine the hope that the view brought them, and how it’s the same hope I felt in my chest looking at it that morning.
We spent most of our time on North Manitou Island, and even with the construction around us, it was breathtaking to see the preservation that has been done to restore the village that had once been there alongside the protected piping plover zones, and the rest of the island that are now designated woodland areas. The two islands grew in popularity during the mid 1800s due to their prime locations in Lake Michigan (resting points between Chicago and Mackinac) and the abundance of timber on the islands. Back then, freighters required massive amounts of wood to fuel the engines of these ships, and people were quick to realize the beauty and potential that the islands had aside from being a “gas station.” Many people homesteaded on the islands, and agriculture and commercial fishing quickly began to develop. From there, villages began taking shape, including favorite pastimes like baseball and establishing schools on both islands for the children.
This was all news to me, and I’m almost embarrassed to admit that I’d thought North Manitou had been a desolate island, and that South was the only one that
had been inhabited. Come to realize, the North was just as developed with their two settlements: the East Side Village, and Crescent City. I was never that interested in history when I was younger, but as I’ve grown, I realize just how much there is that I don’t know about the place I live in. I now appreciate these learning experiences more and sometimes feel like I’m becoming a version of my parents. Stopping at every information sign I see on a trail, or reading as many plaques as I can at a museum—this is something I used to get so irritated with my parents for doing because it would take them such a long time to move from one sign to another. As I grow, though, the urge to learn the backstories of places has me doing the exact same thing.
Another period of transition hit the islands once fossil fuels came along. Timber as fuel became a thing of the past, and fewer ships needed to dock on the islands. This took away a major source of commerce for the islands at the same time as lessened interaction with the outside world. North Manitou Island in particular has served a multitude of purposes since then. In the 1920s most of the property was bought up by the Manitou Island Association to turn it into a “sportsman’s paradise,” offering hunts and lodging. Fast forward to 1970 when the National Park Service (NPS) took ownership of South Manitou Island after Sleeping Bear Dunes became a National Lakeshore. In 1987, then, NPS bought the properties of North Manitou from the various property owners. This is why we have the islands as they are today, preserved in time and place. Farms are abandoned and overgrown, allowing wildlife to flourish and take over the land. It’s an attraction like no other in Michigan. While these islands could’ve been modernized to become an attraction like Mackinac Island, or the small towns throughout the county, instead they present two things: history, and nature. I think it’s beautiful how this was prioritized for the islands, and it’s just another part of what makes Leelanau County a place that offers something for everyone.
We didn’t have enough time to go on shore and walk around South Manitou, so we chose to see the Francisco Morazán shipwreck. One of the many ships that rest in the graveyard surrounding the islands, the Morazán has become a unique attraction amongst the island’s visitors. If you were to drive a boat along the sandbar on a calm day, I’ve been told that you can often see some of the shipwrecks from the surface, but the Morazán stands out from those. As we made our way around the southern end of the island, it looked as though we weren’t the only ones on the water. A looming ship appeared ahead of us in the distance, but there was something strange about how it sat so close to the shoreline. Too close. Closer than a freighter of that size should’ve been able to get without breaching. It was the Francisco Morazán, and she has been stranded in the same location for the past 66 years.
I’d been aware that the Morazán was exposed above water, but I never imagined what it would look like in real life. It was an oddly gorgeous sight, something you really can’t see anywhere else. The story goes that she departed from Chicago in November of 1960 with a cargo load, and was racing to get through the St. Lawrence Seaway before it closed for the winter. Many have heard about the gales of November, and I think the Edumund Fitzgerald can attest to the often harsh environments on the Great Lakes. After suffering a technical malfunction that forced the ship to drift for eight hours, the Morazán went far off course and beached along the shallows of South Manitou, running over another shipwreck in its path. Luckily, no fatalities resulted from this, and the crew was able to make it off the ship.
Over the years the cargo, consisting mostly of canned chicken and mini shampoo bottles, has been taken by visitors and the hull has been broken down from persistent weathering and ice damage, leaving behind a rusted metal frame. Since then the pesky cormorants have taken over the decks and roof of the boat, turning it into their own little slice of paradise. As beautiful as the wreck is, there’s one factor that deters people from getting too close. The combination of guano and fish remains have merged to develop a horrific stench, and if you have the misfortune to wind up downwind of the wreck you’ll have to hold your nose and try not to catch a whiff of the pungent smell. We caught one whiff of the ship and decided not to venture any closer. We’d had a busy day and were happy with what we’d seen—it was time to put some distance between us and cormorant land.
Reflecting on my trip, I can absolutely see myself returning again. North Manitou Island is still a paradise today, just as it was in the past. The appeal of an island getaway to escape noise, traffic, and savor the backcountry life for a few nights sounds like absolute bliss, and it’s all in the backyard of Fishtown (give or take a few miles across the water). There’s nothing quite like taking the time to connect with nature, and North Manitou Island offers the peace and quiet I think many people are looking for. It’s hard to beat the lively activities of the mainland towns, but the islands maintain that perfect balance of giving a glimpse of what the villages used to be, and what the land was like before settlement. The Clay Cliff, Whaleback and Pyramid Point overlooks don’t do the islands justice, and taking the opportunity to fully explore the islands for all that they are and have to offer (for the nature lover, history buff, or hunting enthusiast) makes a world of difference in how you perceive them. The islands are a special part of Northern Michigan’s history, and I encourage anyone who is able to go and pay a visit to the sleeping bear cubs and the beauty that has become of their final resting place.
I can BEARly contain my excitement for next week, as I take you to another part of the Manitou Passage. I’ll see you then!
Emma
More sources:
- Kathy-jo Wargin’s website: https://www.kathy-jowargin.com/
- Articles about the Manitou Islands:
- The Francisco Morazán: https://www.nps.gov/slbe/learn/historyculture/shipwreckmorazan.htm
- The Story of the Sleeping Bear Dunes: https://www.nps.gov/slbe/learn/kidsyouth/the-story-of-sleeping-bear.htm