This was a thoroughly enjoyable book, the type of travel book I like best, with interesting discussions of both the human and natural history of a particular part of the world blended with the personal experiences and adventures of the author in the region. The historical and scientific information was fascinating and I learned quite a bit, while the personal experiences were often riveting, even daring at times, and I very much enjoyed reading them.
The framing narrative of the entire book was the author’s experiences on the ship _Malabar_, a two-masted gaff-rigged with topsails schooner, of a type that was once quite common on the Great Lakes during most of the nineteenth century. Though not exactly traditional (among other things it had a ferro-cement hull, essentially cement over a steel framework), it did provide the author with all the experiences one might have sailing a ship on the Great Lakes. During the vessel’s six-week voyage from Traverse City, Michigan (located on the northwest portion of the Lower Peninsula) all the way through the Welland Canal and the Erie Canal to the Atlantic Ocean, the author experienced some rather scary storms, running aground, hairy encounters with much larger Great Lakes merchant ships, storm debris, the challenges of taking a schooner through the canals, ship malfunctions, and the distinctive personalities of the crew, confined as they were on the ship for days and weeks at a time. As the _Malabar_ passed by various coasts, islands, bridges, and cities and entered other lakes in the Great Lakes, the author would launch into discussions of natural history and the human history of the region, much of which I will admit I had no prior exposure to.
Though the _Malabar_ was the main narrative that framed this travelogue and history book, there were several other journeys that the author detailed and used as springboards for interesting information about the Great Lakes and the lands that surround them, each presented almost as flashbacks during the _Malabar_ voyage. One was his participation as a rather inexperienced crew member on a sailboat racing in the Chicago-to-Mackinac Sailboat Race (or the Chi-Mac), a 333 mile race from Chicago to Mackinac Island, the longest and longest held freshwater regatta in the world. Another, with a completely different feel, was his padding trip on a 36-foot replica of a voyageur’s canoe on Lake Superior. There was another, briefer one towards the end of the book, a bit sobering given how it ended, of the author as a boy not far from home fishing for abundant introduced salmon on Lake Michigan with his family on their fourteen-foot fiberglass runabout and later, his experiences on the shore during a tragic storm.
The asides as I mentioned on the human and natural history were excellent. Sometimes only a few paragraphs were devoted to a subject, other times a number of pages or it was a topic visited more than once. Though at times I would have liked more information on a particular subject, I was generally satisfied as the author provided copious and very readable end notes with suggestions for further reading.
Favorite (and sometimes quite tragic) asides on human history included his discussion of the brief-lived “Mormon kingdom” founded by renegade Mormon James Jesse Strang on Beaver Island (Lake Michigan’s largest island at 14 miles long and 7 miles wide), the history of the Mackinac Bridge (also known as “Mighty Mac” or “Big Mac,” which when it opened in 1957 at five miles long was the longest suspension bridge in the world), the brief discussion of the different types of canoes once used on the lakes (Montreal canoes or canots du miatre, generally 36-40 foot birchbark canoes and the smaller “canoes of the north” or canots du nord, which were about 25 feet long), a very detailed retelling of the sinking of the _Edmund Fitzgerald_, lost with all hands on Lake Superior on November 10, 1975, the timber boom and then famine of the northern Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota, a rush to harvest the Great North Woods that left a devastated wasteland and set the stage for horrific “holocaust fires” (the Peshtigo fire which occurred on October 8, 1871, the same day as the Great Fire in Chicago, killed 1,200 people in Peshtigo, Wisconsin), the story of the _Griffin_, La Salle’s sailing ship, the first sailing ship to travel the Great Lakes above Lake Ontario, a ship that disappeared from history in September 1679, and a very brief discussion of the “blackbirders,” people who lurked on the north shore of Lake Erie (on Long Point, a 20 mile long sandspit protruding into the lake), luring ships to their doom by setting bonfires promising safe passage when in fact they were designed to wreck ships , so that their cargos could be harvested.
Interesting discussion on natural history included the dune ecosystems of the Great Lakes (such as seen preserved at Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore and at Sleeping Bear Dunes in Michigan), including their geological origins, the plants that call the home, and the fight to save the dunes from mining and development, and the long sections on the rise and fall of the Great Lakes commercial and recreational fisheries of yellow perch, walleye, and blue pike (a poorly known fish today, it was said to be a smaller cousin of the walleye and now extinct) thanks to pollution and the introduction of exotic alewife, carp, rainbow smelt, and sea lamprey (the latter which reduced the catch in Lake Michigan from 5.5 million pounds in 1946 to an astonishing 402 pounds in 1947).
Throughout the book the author never forgot to detail the character of each of the Great Lakes as they sailed on them. Though he would break away on his asides or flashbacks, time and again he provided a very visual and visceral feel for sailing and just being on the Great Lakes. The reader is introduced to just how dynamic the waters can be, with depth especially in harbors and near shore varying quite a bit thanks to various surges of water, either “wind setups” caused by large volumes of water blown to the windward shore, or seiches, which are similar and are caused by sudden changes in wind and barometric pressure. As freshwater is less dense than salt water, lake waves are often quite different, not forming classic ocean rollers but often steep, short-period waves, rising quicker, running faster, and often harder on a boat than the long rollers of salt water seas. Squalls can arise quickly on the Great Lakes and are often the worst where the wind can gain force when it is funneled between islands and the mainland (such as around the Manitou Passage). The _Malabar_ didn’t have the square sails a salt water schooner might have but instead gaff-rigged sails, which can be taken down and put up faster and with fewer crew than square sails, as while one can leave the same sails up for long periods of time out at sea, there is a constant threat of running aground on islands or the mainland shore while sailing the Great Lakes. Time and again not only myself but people encountered in the book were astonished at how clean and clear the Great Lakes often are and how one can either see straight to the bottom in many areas or that vast schools of fish were present (though this was not without cost, as efforts to clean the pollution from the water, while successful, still left many square miles of highly toxic lakebed sediments, while other areas have clear water thanks to infestations of exotic filter-feeding zebra mussels, which the jury is still out if they are making the water too clean and denying other fish and aquatic invertebrates vital food).
I really liked the writing style, a good blend of the personable with the scholarly, the descriptions were vivid, and it read very fast.