By Rob Alway

The new steel carferry Pere Marquette entered Ludington’s cross-lake service in February 1897 and immediately changed the way the Flint & Pere Marquette Railway moved freight. The Black Boats had carried cargo taken from railroad cars. The new ship carried the railroad cars themselves.

F.W. Wheeler & Co. built the $300,000 vessel at West Bay City from a design by Robert Logan with substantial input from Capt. James W. Martin. Pere Marquette measured about 350 feet overall, had a beam of approximately 56 feet and could carry about 30 standard freight cars on four parallel tracks.

The vessel was built for the hard conditions of year-round Lake Michigan service. Seven watertight compartments divided the steel hull. Electric lighting, steam steering, steam-operated deck machinery, 12 lifeboats and a powerful twin-screw propulsion system made her one of the most advanced vessels associated with the railroad.

The four railroad tracks initially created an unexpected problem. They had been placed too close together for some of the widest freight cars, forcing a crew of Wheeler shipyard workers to make alterations at Ludington before regular service could begin. Sources give slightly different dates for the first loaded crossings, so the safest description is that regular operations began in mid-February 1897.

Capt. Joseph Russell became the vessel’s first master. A full load could include about 30 railroad cars carrying roughly 900 tons of cargo. Including the weight of the cars themselves, the railroad estimated that approximately 1,500 tons could be carried while the vessel drew only about 13.5 feet of water.

Pere Marquette quickly attracted attention far beyond Ludington. An early visit to Milwaukee reportedly drew tens of thousands of spectators. The ship carried railroad cars directly onto Wisconsin rails, eliminating the laborious transfer that had defined the service since 1875.

A 1904 Ludington Record Appeal history claimed the vessel had traveled more than 150,000 miles without an accident and that the railroad had spent virtually nothing on repairs during an early five-year period. The language reflects the enthusiasm of the era, but it illustrates how strongly railroad officials believed the steel carferry had proved itself.

The vessel’s name eventually became part of the fleet’s numbering tradition. She was assigned No. 15 on paper in the early 1900s and became commonly known as ‘the 15,’ although the number was not added prominently to the bow until much later. She remained in service until the 1930s and was scrapped at Manitowoc in 1935.

The original Pere Marquette did more than replace the Black Boats. She changed the basic concept of the route. The Flint & Pere Marquette had created a railroad that no longer stopped at the water’s edge. It could now carry the railroad itself across the lake.

Coming in Part 8: The wooden Muskegon becomes Pere Marquette 16.

By Rob Alway

Aboard the Wilfred Sykes: Part 7. Cadet Filson sets his sights on becoming a master

By Rob Alway

Editor’s note: For the past several years, I have made it a personal mission to tell the stories of the Great Lakes maritime industry and, especially, the people who work aboard its vessels. As someone who has spent much of my life watching, photographing and studying these ships, I believe their stories deserve to be told.

Documenting the industry is important for preserving its history, but it is equally important for its future. Great Lakes shipping plays a vital role in our nation’s economy, and its continued success depends on attracting new generations of skilled mariners.

Recently, I spent five days aboard the SS Wilfred Sykes, a 1949 steam-powered freighter operated by Central Marine Logistics. This series explores the ship, the work she performs and, most importantly, the people who keep her sailing.

ABOARD THE SS WILFRED SYKES — Liam Filson, 22, of Cleveland, Ohio, knew one thing when he graduated from high school: He didn’t want to spend his working life sitting behind a desk.

He wanted to be on the water.

That decision led him to the Great Lakes Maritime Academy in Traverse City, where he is now a third-year cadet preparing for a career as a licensed deck officer in the United States Merchant Marine.

Filson is spending 90 days aboard the SS Wilfred Sykes, a Great Lakes bulk freighter operated by Central Marine Logistics. The assignment is his first commercial sea project, essentially an internship that allows him to apply what he has learned in the classroom to life aboard a working ship.

“I didn’t really want an office job,” Filson said. “I also love just being out on the water.”

His responsibilities aboard the Sykes are straightforward.

“My job is to listen and learn and don’t break anything,” he said.

The Sykes provides an opportunity to learn aboard a vessel with a long history. Built in 1949 by the American Ship Building Co. in Lorain, Ohio, for Inland Steel Co., she was the first new American-built Great Lakes freighter constructed following World War II. She was also the largest vessel on the lakes when she entered service.

More than 75 years later, the steam-powered ship continues hauling bulk cargo on the Great Lakes.

For Filson, the experience is part of the education needed to eventually take command of a vessel like the Sykes.

Training the next generation of mariners

The Great Lakes Maritime Academy is part of Northwestern Michigan College in Traverse City. Established in 1969, it is one of six state maritime academies in the country and the only one located on freshwater.

The academy offers a four-year program leading to a Bachelor of Science in Maritime Technology, with separate programs for deck officers and engineering officers.

Deck cadets study navigation, seamanship, ship stability, cargo operations, maritime law, safety and other subjects necessary to operate large commercial vessels. Engineering cadets concentrate on the mechanical and technical systems that power and operate ships.

In addition to classroom instruction, cadets are required to spend hundreds of days at sea, gaining practical experience aboard training and commercial vessels.

Filson began his shipboard training aboard the academy’s training ship, State of Michigan, a former Navy vessel based in Traverse City. The academy uses the ship as a floating classroom, allowing cadets to become familiar with shipboard operations before moving on to commercial assignments.

The program includes three sea projects, during which cadets serve aboard the training ship or commercial vessels on the Great Lakes and oceans.

Filson’s assignment aboard the Sykes is his first experience on a commercial freighter as a cadet.

“I’m doing 90 days out here to get some practical experience,” he said.

During that time, he observes and works alongside licensed officers, learning about navigation, bridge operations and the day-to-day responsibilities involved in moving a large vessel safely between ports.

Becoming a mate and eventually a captain

Completing the academy’s deck officer program puts cadets on a path toward earning a U.S. Coast Guard license as a third mate of unlimited tonnage for the Great Lakes and oceans.

A third mate is an entry-level licensed deck officer responsible for duties that can include standing navigational watches, overseeing safety equipment and assisting with cargo operations.

The term “unlimited tonnage” means the credential is not restricted to vessels below a particular tonnage. It does not, however, qualify its holder to serve as captain.

Advancement through the officer ranks requires additional qualifying sea service and meeting Coast Guard licensing requirements.

A third mate can advance to second mate, then chief mate, commonly called first mate aboard Great Lakes freighters, and eventually master.

For unlimited-tonnage ocean licenses, the standard advancement process generally involves at least one year of qualifying service at each level, along with required training, assessments and examinations, although alternative qualifying routes are available.

A master’s license is the highest deck officer credential and qualifies its holder to command vessels within the authority of that license.

The academy’s engineering graduates follow a separate licensing path, becoming eligible for Coast Guard credentials as third assistant engineers of steam and motor vessels of any horsepower. They can eventually advance through the engineering ranks to chief engineer.

Great Lakes pilotage: A specialized qualification

One distinction of the Great Lakes Maritime Academy is its pilotage training.

Unlike other American maritime academies, the Traverse City school incorporates preparation for first-class Great Lakes pilotage into its regular deck officer program.

Pilotage is the specialized skill of navigating ships through restricted or challenging waters, including rivers, narrow channels, harbor entrances and areas with significant vessel traffic.

The Great Lakes present challenges that differ from open-ocean navigation. A vessel moving through the St. Marys River, Detroit River or other confined waterways must contend with bends, currents, shallow areas and opposing ship traffic.

The Coast Guard requires specific pilotage qualifications for navigating designated waters aboard large American commercial vessels.

A first-class pilot endorsement is separate from a mate’s or master’s license. It is issued for particular waterways and requires demonstrated familiarity with those routes, documented trips and examinations.

Holding a pilotage endorsement for one waterway does not automatically authorize a mariner to pilot a vessel through every restricted channel on the Great Lakes.

Graduates of the Great Lakes Maritime Academy’s deck program meet the general sea-service requirement for Great Lakes first-class pilotage, but they must still satisfy the applicable route qualifications and examinations.

On domestic Great Lakes freighters, qualified deck officers may hold these pilotage endorsements themselves. That differs from the separate registered-pilot system used by foreign vessels and American vessels engaged in foreign trade on the Great Lakes and St. Lawrence Seaway.

The academy’s combination of unlimited-tonnage deck officer training and Great Lakes pilotage preparation is particularly valuable for students who want to build careers aboard lake freighters.

A future on the lakes

For Filson, the attraction of working on the Great Lakes goes beyond simply being aboard a ship.

He particularly enjoys the challenge of navigating rivers and other confined waterways.

“I really enjoy inland navigation. I really enjoy the rivers,” he said. “It’s challenging. You’ve got traffic, you’ve got shoals, you’ve got turns and bends and currents, which really keeps things interesting.”

His immediate goal is to graduate, earn his third mate’s license and begin working as a licensed officer aboard a Great Lakes freighter.

Eventually, he hopes to become a captain.

“I really love it out here on the lakes,” he said.

For now, his classroom is a 77-year-old steamship, and his teachers are the experienced mariners who keep her operating.

The lessons he is learning aboard the Sykes are preparing him for the day when he will be the one responsible for navigating a ship through those same waters.

Aboard the Wilfred Sykes: Part 7. Cadet Filson sets his sights on becoming a master

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This story is copyrighted 2026 by Sable Points Media.

By Rob Alway

The Flint & Pere Marquette’s greatest cross-lake problem was no longer the size of its steamers. The problem was the transfer of freight. Hundreds of workers unloaded railroad cars at Ludington, moved the cargo aboard package freighters and repeated the process in Wisconsin. Railroad officials increasingly believed the answer was to carry the loaded railroad cars across Lake Michigan without unloading them.

The idea had been discussed inside the railroad for years. A 1904 Ludington Record Appeal history credited railroad superintendent Sanford Keeler with predicting that loaded cars could someday be carried across the lake. Marine men reportedly greeted the suggestion with ‘scorn and ridicule,’ arguing that the weight would make such a vessel unstable and that railroad cars could not be secured safely on deck.

The Ann Arbor Railroad eventually demonstrated that the concept could work. Beginning in 1892, wooden railroad carferries carried cars between Frankfort and Wisconsin. The Flint & Pere Marquette now had proof that an entire train could be transferred across the lake without breaking bulk.

Capt. James W. Martin became the driving force behind the Flint & Pere Marquette’s own carferry project after becoming superintendent in the mid-1890s. The Record Appeal later credited Martin with conceiving and building the first steel railroad carferry on the Great Lakes. He presented his plans to railroad management, and the directors eventually authorized the investment.

The railroad let a contract in 1896 for a $300,000 steel vessel at F.W. Wheeler & Co. in West Bay City. Cleveland naval architect Robert Logan prepared the design with Martin’s close involvement. Instead of cargo holds requiring hand loading, the new ship would have four railroad tracks running nearly the length of the main deck.

The project also threatened the livelihood of the men who had made the break-bulk system possible. The Record Appeal estimated that 400 to 500 freight handlers worked the Ludington docks. The newspaper described the new vessel as a ‘great labor saving machine’ and reported that displaced workers responded with strikes, boycotts and other labor actions.

The confrontation escalated beyond an ordinary employment dispute. The 1904 account stated that opponents threatened to dynamite what they called the ‘infernal carferry.’ The source does not describe a riot, but it clearly documents serious labor unrest and threats of violence as workers confronted a technology that could eliminate much of the work that supported their families.

The newspaper later attributed Martin’s declining health to the strain surrounding the first freight-handlers’ strike. He died in a Milwaukee hospital March 21, 1897, only weeks after the new vessel entered service. The paper’s account linked his illness to the stress of the dispute, though that attribution should be understood as the newspaper’s explanation rather than a medical finding.

Despite the unrest, the railroad did not turn back. The new carferry would fundamentally change freight transportation at Ludington. Instead of moving cargo between a train and a ship, the railroad would move the train itself across Lake Michigan.

Coming in Part 7: Pere Marquette begins a new era.

By Rob Alway

Editor’s note: For the past several years, I have made it a personal mission to tell the stories of the Great Lakes maritime industry and, especially, the people who work aboard its vessels. As someone who has spent much of my career watching, photographing and studying these ships, I believe their stories deserve to be told.

Documenting the industry is important for preserving its history, but it is equally important for its future. Great Lakes shipping plays a vital role in our nation’s economy, and its continued success depends on attracting new generations of skilled mariners.

Recently, I spent four days aboard the SS Wilfred Sykes, a 1949 steam-powered freighter operated by Central Marine Logistics. This series explores the ship, the work it performs and, most importantly, the people who keep it sailing.

ABOARD THE SS WILFRED SYKES — At 22 years old, Gavyn Crawford is one of the younger sailors aboard the SS Wilfred Sykes, but spend a few minutes talking with him and it becomes apparent that his interests belong to another era of Great Lakes shipping.

Crawford, of Ingalls, near Menominee, has a deep interest in Great Lakes maritime history. In some ways, he is nearly a walking piece of that history.

His wardrobe frequently pays homage to vintage Great Lakes shipping companies, old beer brands and even some long-gone cigarette brands — the sort of logos and names that once appeared around shipyards, waterfront taverns and aboard Great Lakes vessels decades before Crawford was born.

For Crawford, though, the interest goes well beyond clothing.

“I’ve always been really history orientated,” he said. “I’ve always liked the boats and a lot of history associated with the boats.”

That connection to history also runs through his family.

Crawford’s family has roots around Cedar River, Michigan, a small community along Green Bay in Menominee County that once served the region’s lumber industry. Schooners, schooner barges and lumber hookers called there to load cedar, pulpwood and other forest products.

Crawford grew up hearing those stories and seeing evidence of that maritime past.

His great-grandmother painted schooners and lumber hookers that visited Cedar River, and Crawford still has many of those paintings along with historic photographs of the harbor.

“I was always one of the ones that loved looking at genealogy,” he said.

Growing up in Michigan’s western Upper Peninsula also meant that working boats were never far away. Menominee and neighboring Marinette, Wisconsin, have long been connected to shipbuilding, while Escanaba remains one of the Great Lakes’ traditional ore ports.

Crawford graduated from Stephenson High School in 2022. By then, he had already begun finding his way into maritime work.

He started working around 2020, first getting aboard commercial fishing boats through family friends. He also worked around the marine industry in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin, including Sarter Marine Towing and work associated with ship launches at Marinette.

Commercial fishing provided the next step.

“My first time out on an actual commercial boat was through a family friend of ours,” Crawford said. “I just went from bigger boats from there, made my way up the ladder, so to say, up the hawsepipe.”

Once Crawford earned his Merchant Mariner Credential, he began looking toward the larger Great Lakes vessels.

The Sykes was actually his first choice, but there was no opening at the time. Crawford instead went to work for Great Lakes Fleet. After a couple seasons there, an opportunity aboard the Sykes finally opened.

He joined the vessel in June 2024.

Since then, Crawford has also spent time aboard the Joseph L. Block, but he returned to the Sykes and has been permanently assigned to the vessel since March 2026.

Crawford is an able-bodied seaman utility deckhand and day worker. He is also one of the vessel’s higher-seniority deckhands and frequently serves as a relief wheelsman or relief bosun.

Given the choice, he prefers the pilothouse.

“Most of the time, I take the wheeling gig,” Crawford said.

And unlike many young sailors who eventually hope to earn a mate’s license and continue advancing through the officer ranks, Crawford already has a pretty good idea where he would like his career to take him.

He wants to become a career wheelsman.

“I love wheeling the boats,” he said. “I love the wheeling gig. I love this boat.”

That position has a long tradition on Great Lakes vessels. Wheelsmen stand watches in the pilothouse and steer the ship under the direction of the captain or mate. For Crawford, there is an appeal in becoming one of those experienced sailors who spends a career at the wheel rather than viewing the position merely as another step toward the next license.

The Great Lakes also offer something Crawford said he would not have found sailing deep sea: proximity to home.

“You can still get off at the docks and the ports and go up the street, you know, and visit friends and family,” he said. “That’s a big reason why I decided not to do deep sea. I wanted to stay on the Great Lakes so I could still see friends and family close by.”

Crawford’s interest in maritime history has also connected him with people far beyond his own vessel. He has worked with Great Lakes historical organizations, particularly the Marine Historical Society of Detroit, and has assisted with some of its projects.

Those connections have helped create a network throughout the Great Lakes fleet.

There is a running joke, Crawford said, that he seems to know somebody aboard nearly every boat.

But behind the joke is something he believes is important about working on the Great Lakes.

“You build them connections because out here, where everyone’s a family, it doesn’t matter what boat you’re on, what company,” he said. “You always look out for each other’s backs.”

Crawford is also part of a small group of relatively young Upper Peninsula sailors aboard the Sykes. Oiler Chase Wehner is also from the Menominee area while wheelsman Adam Larson of Escanaba is currently serving as interim steward’s assistant.

Larson is a second-generation Sykes sailor. His father spent his career as a wheelsman aboard the vessel and was among the last Inland Steel sailors to serve aboard the ship.

For Crawford, those connections between generations are especially appropriate.

He works aboard a vessel launched in 1949, studies the ships and sailors who came before him, collects pieces of maritime history and surrounds himself with reminders of an earlier Great Lakes.

But his own story aboard the lakes is only beginning.

At 22, Crawford has already progressed from commercial fishing boats to major Great Lakes freighters and into the pilothouse of the Wilfred Sykes.

And if things go according to plan, that is exactly where he intends to stay — behind the wheel of a Great Lakes ship.

Next: Aboard the Wilfred Sykes: Part 7. Cadet Filson sets his sights on becoming a master

Help support this Substack page and check out our merchandise store.

This story is copyrighted 2026 by Sable Points Media.

By Rob Alway

Editor’s note: For the past several years, I have made it a personal mission to tell the stories of the Great Lakes maritime industry and, especially, the people who work aboard its vessels. As someone who has spent much of my life watching, photographing and studying these ships, I believe their stories deserve to be told.

Documenting the industry is important for preserving its history, but it is equally important for its future. Great Lakes shipping plays a vital role in our nation’s economy, and its continued success depends on attracting new generations of skilled mariners.

Recently, I spent five days aboard the SS Wilfred Sykes, a 1949 steam-powered freighter operated by Central Marine Logistics. This series explores the ship, the work it performs and, most importantly, the people who keep it sailing.

ABOARD THE SS WILFRED SYKES — Long before Christopher Greene became the chef responsible for feeding the crew of the Wilfred Sykes, his culinary career took him from Ohio to Rhode Island, Florida, the Caribbean, Key West and eventually northern Michigan.

Today, Greene serves as Chief Steward aboard the Sykes, an officer-ranked position within the ship’s crew. He has spent roughly two decades sailing the Great Lakes and the past 16 years with Central Marine Logistics, which operates the Wilfred Sykes.

The route was anything but direct. But for Greene, it eventually led to the galley aboard one of the Great Lakes’ most distinctive freighters.

And that is where he intends to finish his career.

“I plan to finish out my rodeo and retire here,” Greene said.

Greene, who lives in Alpena, grew up in the Toledo, Ohio, area. He began cooking before graduating from high school. While many of his friends left for college, Greene began traveling and working his way through the restaurant business.

A chef at a country club encouraged him to pursue culinary arts professionally. Greene eventually attended Johnson & Wales College (now Johnson & Wales University) in Rhode Island, then studied hotel and restaurant management at Florida International University. His career took him into Hyatt Regency hotels and resorts, including work in south Florida and the Caribbean.

Eventually he left the corporate hotel world for private restaurants, including Louie’s Backyard in Key West. He later returned to the Midwest, working at a French restaurant in Toledo and spending two seasons on Mackinac Island before settling in Alpena.

It was in Alpena that two friends helped point his career in an entirely different direction.

They owned a meat market that supplied groceries to Great Lakes vessels and suggested Greene’s skills as a chef could translate well to working aboard a freighter.

“They were telling me, ‘You’re such a great cook. You could go and work on these boats and make some good money, and it’s a good job,’” Greene recalled.

So he tried it.

“And I loved it.”

Greene began sailing around 2006. His first vessel was the Fred R. White Jr., where he worked under Capt. Ralph Yannick. Greene credits Yannick with helping steer him toward becoming a steward. He then spent several years moving between vessels through the union hall before landing with Central Marine Logistics.

Sixteen years later, the Wilfred Sykes is home.

“She’s probably the prettiest boat on the lakes,” Greene said. “I’ve had the best captains, and I love my galley. It’s a great galley.”

Life in the galley

Aboard a Great Lakes freighter, the galley operates on the ship’s schedule, not the other way around.

For Greene, the day begins around 5 a.m.

“It’s time to make the donuts,” he joked.

Breakfast comes first. Then attention immediately turns to lunch, followed by preparation for dinner. When the vessel is sailing, that rhythm continues seven days a week.

As Chief Steward, Greene holds an officer-ranked position aboard the vessel. He is the Sykes‘ chef, responsible for the galley and for preparing the meals that keep the crew fed throughout the vessel’s operating day.

Cooking aboard a freighter also requires understanding the people being fed.

Greene said years of experience have taught him to read the crew and learn their preferences. The relationship between the Chief Steward and the crew is an important one aboard a vessel where the same people work, eat and live together for weeks or months at a time.

“We’re all one big family out here,” he said. “We all seem to have a good time, teasing each other or giving each other a hard time. But that’s sailor life.”

Greene’s culinary background is considerably broader than the stereotypical image of shipboard cooking.

Italian food was an early specialty, but his interests expanded over the years to Cajun and New Orleans cuisine, Caribbean dishes, Mexican food and traditional American meals.

The challenge, he said, is adapting that experience to changing crews.

Greene remembers an earlier Sykes crew that enthusiastically ate nearly anything he prepared. Today’s crew is younger, and tastes have changed.

There are times, he joked, when the younger sailors would be perfectly happy with chicken nuggets, pizza and burgers.

Greene has other ideas.

“I try,” he said of broadening their tastes. “They’re all good kids, and they’re going to grow up one day.”

Greene’s crew appreciates his culinary skills.

“Any sailor will tell you that the cook can make or break a crew,” said Capt. Jason Cracraft, master of the Sykes. “We are blessed to have Chris onboard and his food never disappoints.”

Naturally, the crew loves to tease their chief steward.

“It’s our love language,” one of the crew members said with a smile after giving Greene a hard time about the food. “He’s the best, though.”

A changing Great Lakes fleet

After two decades aboard Great Lakes vessels, Greene has also watched the industry change around him.

He worries about the future of the profession and the shrinking number of major fleets operating on the lakes. At the same time, he sees younger sailors entering the industry.

Keeping them on the Great Lakes may be another matter.

Greene frequently talks with maritime academy cadets who train aboard the Sykes. Many, he said, ultimately plan to pursue careers on the oceans rather than remain on the Great Lakes.

“I’m seeing a younger group of people coming in, but I’m also seeing a lot of people going to the seaside rather than the Great Lakes,” Greene said. “That’s the thing that worries me the most.”

It is another reminder that the future of the Great Lakes merchant marine depends not only on ships, cargoes and companies, but on finding people willing to make a career of life aboard them.

The toughest part of sailing

For Greene, the hardest part of the profession has never been getting up at 5 a.m. to prepare breakfast.

It is being away from home.

For much of his career, Greene said he routinely sailed stretches of roughly 100 days, followed by about a month and a half ashore. With about seven years remaining before he expects to retire, he plans to begin shortening those long stretches aboard ship so he can spend more time at home.

“The toughest thing about sailing is having a relationship,” he said. “That’s the biggest test of them all.”

It is a part of Great Lakes shipping rarely seen from shore.

People watch the freighters pass beneath the Mackinac Bridge, through the Soo Locks or along the Lake Michigan shoreline. They photograph them entering harbors and follow their movements across the lakes. What is less visible is the life taking place aboard — the long stretches away from families, the seven-day workweeks and the routines required to keep a vessel and its crew operating.

Greene compares parts of that life to military service, particularly the strain long absences can place on relationships.

“People don’t realize how tough it is to be a merchant marine,” he said.

For Greene, though, the career that began in restaurant kitchens and eventually brought him aboard Great Lakes freighters is one he has no intention of abandoning before retirement.

And aboard the Wilfred Sykes, each day still starts the same way.

Around 5 a.m., the lights come on in the galley.

It’s time to make the donuts.

Tomorrow: Aboard the Wilfred Sykes: Part 6. At 22, AB Crawford finds his future in the Great Lakes’ past

Help support this Substack page and check out our merchandise store.

This story is copyrighted 2026 by Sable Points Media.

By Rob Alway

For more than five decades, the MV Manitowoc has transported the raw materials that help keep the Great Lakes economy moving. The 630-foot self-unloading bulk carrier has operated under four names, served several shipping companies and traveled thousands of miles carrying iron ore, coal, limestone and other bulk commodities.

Built in 1973, the Manitowoc is part of a class of vessels designed to navigate the narrower waterways and river ports of the Great Lakes. While she is considerably smaller than the 1,000-foot freighters that dominate the iron ore trade, her size provides an advantage when navigating restricted channels and delivering cargo to docks that larger ships cannot reach.

The Manitowoc is a familiar sight in west Michigan, particularly in the Michigan ports of Ludington and Manistee, where she has frequently delivered limestone and other aggregate materials, along with coal, though she hasn’t made as many trips this season, concentrating more on Lakes Huron and Erie.

On Monday, Oct. 12, 2026, the Manitowoc returned to Ludington, arriving at about noon with a load of aggregate for Great Lakes Materials, a Rieth-Riley Construction terminal located on Pere Marquette Lake. It was only her second visit to Ludington this season. Her previous visit occurred May 16.

Built for the river trade

The Manitowoc was constructed by American Shipbuilding Co. in Lorain, Ohio, as Hull No. 902. She was launched Oct. 7, 1973, and entered service Nov. 15 of that year under the name Paul Thayer.

Originally owned by Union Commerce Bank of Cleveland and managed by Kinsman Marine Transit Co., the vessel was designed for the River Class trade. Kinsman had secured a contract to transport iron ore to the Jones & Laughlin Steel mill along the Cuyahoga River in Cleveland.

Unlike larger Great Lakes bulk carriers designed primarily for open-lake transportation between major loading and unloading terminals, River Class vessels could navigate tighter channels and make deliveries to industrial facilities farther inland.

The Paul Thayer was constructed as a self-unloading vessel, eliminating the need for extensive shore-based unloading equipment. Her cargo handling system uses conveyor belts beneath her cargo holds to transfer material to an inclined conveyor and a 260-foot unloading boom mounted near the stern.

The boom allows her to discharge cargo directly onto shore facilities at a maximum rate of approximately 5,000 tons per hour, depending on the cargo and operating conditions.

The ship measures 630 feet long, 68 feet wide and approximately 37 feet deep. She has five cargo holds, 17 hatches and a cargo capacity of approximately 19,600 tons. Her two Alco diesel engines generate a combined 5,600 horsepower, giving her an operating speed of approximately 14 mph.

Her combination of cargo capacity, maneuverability and self-unloading equipment has allowed her to remain an important part of Great Lakes shipping for more than half a century.

Four names, several owners

The Paul Thayer was sold in 1976 to Pringle Transit Co., a Cleveland-based subsidiary of Oglebay Norton Co., one of the major operators of Great Lakes bulk carriers.

In 1978, she underwent a substantial rebuilding of her cargo hold at American Shipbuilding’s Toledo, Ohio, shipyard.

The vessel continued serving the bulk trades under the Pringle Transit name until 1994, when she was transferred directly to Oglebay Norton. On March 31, 1995, she was renamed Earl W. Oglebay during a joint christening ceremony in Cleveland with her sister ship, the former William R. Roesch, which became the David Z. Norton.

The two vessels remained part of the Oglebay Norton fleet until 2006, when they were among the ships sold to Wisconsin & Michigan Steamship Co., a subsidiary of Sand Products Corp. of Muskegon.

The Earl W. Oglebay was subsequently renamed Earl W. in 2007.

In 2008, the ship was acquired by Grand River Navigation Co., a subsidiary of Rand Logistics, and received her current name, Manitowoc, in recognition of the Manitowoc River and the Wisconsin community along Lake Michigan.

Rand Logistics is now known as Mainstay Maritime, based in Williamsville, N.Y., near Buffalo. The Manitowoc continues operating under Grand River Navigation.

Three sister ships

The Manitowoc is one of three nearly identical River Class freighters constructed by American Shipbuilding during the early 1970s.

Her American sister ship is the MV Calumet, also built in 1973. Originally named William R. Roesch, she later sailed as the David Z. Norton and David Z. before receiving her current name in 2008. Like the Manitowoc, she is operated by Grand River Navigation.

The third sister is the Canadian-flagged MV Robert S. Pierson, built in 1974 and originally named Wolverine. She was operated by Lower Lakes Towing of Port Dover, Ontario, which was part of the Rand Logistics fleet. In 2026, the Canadian fleet, including the Robert S. Pierson, was acquired by Algoma Central Corp.

Although the three vessels have experienced several changes in ownership and names, their basic designs reflect the continued importance of smaller, versatile self-unloading freighters in Great Lakes commerce.

A familiar presence in west Michigan

For Great Lakes ship watchers, the Manitowoc is particularly recognizable by her twin exhaust stacks, aft superstructure and long self-unloading boom.

Her maneuverability is especially evident when navigating the Manistee River, where vessels of her size pass through two drawbridges before reaching the industrial docks on Manistee Lake.

The Manitowoc has been a frequent visitor to Manistee, delivering coal to the TES Filer City Station and other bulk cargoes to area terminals. She also regularly carries aggregate to Ludington, where the material is used for road construction and other infrastructure projects.

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This story is copyrighted 2026 by Sable Points Media.

By Rob Alway

The Flint & Pere Marquette Railway pushed the Black Boat concept to its limit with F&PM No. 5. Built by F.W. Wheeler & Co. at West Bay City, the wooden steamer was launched Nov. 10, 1890 and dwarfed the earlier vessels in the fleet.

No. 5 measured about 226 feet between perpendiculars and more than 240 feet overall, with a beam of approximately 38 feet. She registered about 1,723 gross tons and was powered by a triple-expansion steam engine developing roughly 1,350 indicated horsepower.

The vessel was initially built as a straight package freighter without regular passenger accommodations. Her enormous cargo capacity was intended in part to move flour and other products during winter months when navigation through the Straits of Mackinac was restricted and the Ludington route offered an important east-west alternative.

The scale of the break-bulk operation can be seen in traffic figures from the winter of 1892-93. Five steamers moved the equivalent of about 4,000 railroad carloads eastbound. Roughly 1,400 carloads were grain, totaling about 1.2 million bushels, while flour and other mill products made up much of the balance. Westbound cargo included merchandise and thousands of barrels of salt.

Moving that freight required an enormous labor force. Approximately 300 men could be employed around the clock on the Ludington docks during winter rushes, unloading railroad cars, moving cargo through warehouses and loading the steamers. The system generated work, but it also exposed the central weakness of the operation.

The railroad had reached the practical limits of break-bulk shipping. A larger boat could carry more freight, but every additional ton still had to be handled by people at both ends of the lake crossing. The problem was not simply vessel capacity. It was the process itself.

No. 5 was rebuilt in 1898 with passenger cabins and became Pere Marquette 5 after the formation of the Pere Marquette Railway. She later worked under charter and then passed through several owners, including the Pere Marquette Line Steamers.

The vessel left the Great Lakes after being sold in 1916 to the Nova Scotia Steamship Co. Renamed Anzac, she entered Atlantic service. On March 11, 1917, the former Black Boat foundered off Nantucket while carrying lumber to New York. The crew survived.

The Black Boats had transformed Ludington into a major cross-lake freight terminal, but the railroad needed a way to eliminate the costly hand transfer that defined the entire system. The idea that would solve the problem had already been tried elsewhere on Lake Michigan: put the railroad cars aboard the ship themselves.

Coming in Part 6: The carferry idea - and the labor crisis that followed.

By Rob Alway

LUDINGTON, Mich. — The SS Badger concluded her 2026 sailing season Sunday, Oct. 11, wrapping up what Lake Michigan Carferry officials have described as one of the historic steamship’s best seasons in recent years.

For me, the ride was a special milestone as it was the second Great Lakes steamship I rode in less than a week. The previous Sunday I boarded the SS Wilfred Sykes and spent four days on the 77-year-old ship.

According to Lake Michigan Carferry spokesman Thom Hawley, the 2026 season was among the most successful in recent years for the 73-year-old vessel, which carries passengers and vehicles across Lake Michigan between Ludington and Manitowoc, Wisconsin.

Sunday’s trip on the Badger, was my third this season. I typically try to ride a few times a season. My two previous trips earlier in the summer were for transportation to take me to Wisconsin for historical research onshore. This time, I brought along my daughters, Avoca, 13, and Sloane, 11, and their friend Ebbie, 13, and we rode over and back.

We departed Ludington at 9 a.m., beginning what would be the final round trip of the season.

Before departure, we were treated to a special visit to the Badger‘s pilothouse, compliments of Capt. Ed Wiltse. Being in the pilothouse never gets old. It was particularly enjoyable to share that experience with the girls.

The weather couldn’t have been much better for an October crossing. Sunshine greeted us as we departed Ludington, with temperatures around 60 degrees. Light southerly winds made for a pleasant crossing, with temperatures climbing into the 60s throughout the day.

The girls, naturally, had their own priorities.

The Badger‘s movie theater and traditional Badger Bingo were among their favorite activities. There was also plenty of food consumed and, of course, a visit to her gift shop for souvenirs.

Upon arriving in Manitowoc, we were picked up by Tim Hinds, originally of Ludington and now a Manitowoc resident. Tim is the son of Capt. James Hinds, who served as master of the SS Spartan and other Chesapeake & Ohio Railway car ferries.

Tim took us to lunch at the Four Seasons Restaurant in Manitowoc, where we enjoyed a great meal before returning to the Badger for the trip home.

Although I enjoy the maritime history associated with the Badger, the girls were more interested in the activities and spending the day together. For many passengers, the crossing is as much a recreational experience as it is transportation between Michigan and Wisconsin.

The Badger began her 2026 season May 15. During the summer months, she operated additional nighttime crossings, returning to one round trip daily in the fall.

A Ludington tradition

The Badger‘s final arrival in Ludington is a tradition of its own.

As is customary, people gather along the Ludington channel to welcome her home one last time before her winter layup. It was a contrast compared to our departure from Manitowoc where only a handful of people were on the two breakwaters.

This season, Capt. Wiltse also revived a historic car ferry tradition.

Following a recent visit to the Port of Ludington Maritime Museum, which includes a display explaining the steam whistle identification signals once used by the railroad car ferries, Wiltse began sounding the Badger‘s traditional identification signal of three long blasts.

During the era of railroad car ferry operations, each vessel had its own whistle identification signal, allowing those on shore and other vessels to identify an approaching ship.

The Badger‘s final arrival of the season is a reminder that, for nearly five months each year, her departures and arrivals are a regular part of life along the Ludington waterfront.

The ships behind the milestone

The Wilfred Sykes was built by American Ship Building Co. at Lorain, Ohio, for Inland Steel Co. Launched in 1949 and placed into service in 1950, the Sykes was the largest vessel on the Great Lakes when she was built.

She was also a technological pioneer.

At a time when coal remained the traditional fuel for Great Lakes steamships, the Sykes became the first Great Lakes steamship built to burn Bunker C heavy fuel oil instead of coal. Her two oil-fired boilers produce steam to power a 7,700-horsepower turbine propulsion system, which drives a single propeller.

The Sykes was also among the first of a new generation of larger, more powerful lake freighters built following World War II. Originally designed to carry iron ore, she was converted into a self-unloading vessel in 1975.

Today, she primarily carries limestone used in steelmaking.

The Badger, meanwhile, represents another branch of Great Lakes steamship development.

Built in 1952 by Christy Corp. at Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin, the 410-foot vessel entered service March 21, 1953, for the Chesapeake & Ohio Railway.

The Badger and her sister ship, the SS Spartan, were the last and largest coal-fired railroad car ferries built in the United States. The Spartan entered service in October 1952 and has been laid up in Ludington since 1979.

Both ships were designed to transport railroad cars, automobiles and passengers, helping maintain important rail connections between Michigan and Wisconsin.

During her railroad years, the Badger carried railroad cars, passengers and automobiles on routes between Ludington and the Wisconsin ports of Manitowoc, Milwaukee and Kewaunee.

Railroad car ferry service ended in 1990, but the Badger returned to service in 1992 under the ownership of Ludington native Charles Conrad, who developed a new business model focused on transporting passengers and vehicles.

Since then, the Badger has operated exclusively as a passenger and vehicle ferry between Ludington and Manitowoc.

She was designated a National Historic Landmark in 2016 in recognition of her historical and engineering significance. In 2020, the Badger was acquired by Interlake Maritime Services, the parent company of Lake Michigan Carferry.

Two different ways of making steam

While both the Badger and Sykes use steam for propulsion, their machinery is considerably different.

The Badger remains the last coal-fired commercial steamship operating on the Great Lakes and the only coal-fired passenger steamship in North America.

Four coal-burning boilers supply steam to two Skinner Unaflow reciprocating engines, each rated at 3,500 horsepower. The engines drive two propellers.

Unlike the Sykes‘ steam turbine, which uses steam flowing through rotating turbine blades, the Badger‘s engines use steam pressure to move pistons. The engines are among the last surviving examples of their design.

The Sykes, by comparison, uses her oil-fired boilers to produce steam that spins a turbine. The turbine transfers power through reduction gears to her propeller.

The difference in size is also substantial. At 678 feet, the Sykes is 268 feet longer than the Badger. The freighter can transport approximately 24,000 tons of bulk cargo, while the Badger accommodates up to 600 passengers and 180 vehicles.

Both vessels produce more than 7,000 horsepower, but their work could hardly be more different.

The Sykes operates around the demands of the steel industry. She carries cargo between ports throughout the Great Lakes, often operating around the clock. Her crew spends weeks aboard, working rotating watches.

The Badger follows a passenger schedule, providing four-hour crossings between Ludington and Manitowoc. Her crew includes licensed mariners, engineers, deckhands and hospitality employees.

A disappearing fleet

The two steamships are among an increasingly small number still working on the Great Lakes.

During the 2026 navigation season, only three large, commercially operated steam-powered vessels remained in regular service on the Great Lakes: the Badger, Wilfred Sykes and SS Alpena.

Of those three, the Alpena, built in 1942, is the oldest. The Sykes, launched in 1949, is the second oldest, followed by the Badger, launched in 1952.

The 520-foot Alpena, originally built as the Leon Fraser, carries cement for Inland Lakes Management. She underwent a major conversion in 1990 that included shortening her hull by 120 feet and converting her into a self-unloading cement carrier.

Several other steam-powered Great Lakes freighters still exist, including the Arthur M. Anderson, Philip R. Clarke and Cason J. Callaway, but those vessels have been in layup rather than regular service.

Over the past two decades, many former steam-powered freighters have been converted to diesel propulsion. Others have been retired or placed into long-term layup.

The Badger remains particularly unusual because her coal-fired reciprocating engines represent a technology that has almost entirely disappeared from commercial shipping.

While steamships are often associated with maritime history, these three vessels continue to serve practical purposes. The Sykes transports raw materials used by the steel industry, the Alpena delivers cement and the Badger provides a transportation connection across Lake Michigan.

A final voyage

My experiences aboard the Sykes and Badger offered two very different perspectives on life aboard a working steamship.

On the Sykes, I was able to observe the work of commercial mariners, from loading and unloading limestone to maintaining a vessel that has been operating for more than 75 years. She operates day and night, with a crew responsible for navigating, maintaining and operating the vessel during voyages that can last several weeks.

On the Badger, the experience was much more relaxed. I got to spend the day with my daughters and their friend, enjoying the same ship that has been part of the Ludington waterfront for most of my life. I have had the honor of observing and interviewing her crew in the past. Those stories have been published on my other online publication, Mason County Press, and will be reposted here on Great Lakes Boat Blog in the near future. I am sure there will be opportunities to tell more stories in the future.

For my daughters and their friend, the day was about movies, bingo, food, souvenirs and spending time together.

For me, it was also another opportunity to travel aboard one of the last working steamships on the Great Lakes.

And getting to share that experience with my daughters and some of the Badger friends made the trip even more special.

Help support this Substack page and check out our merchandise store.

This story is copyrighted 2026 by Sable Points Media.

By Rob Alway

Editor’s note: For the past several years, I have made it a personal mission to tell the stories of the Great Lakes maritime industry and, especially, the people who work aboard its vessels. As someone who has spent much of my life watching, photographing and studying these ships, I believe their stories deserve to be told.

Documenting the industry is important for preserving its history, but it is equally important for its future. Great Lakes shipping plays a vital role in our nation’s economy, and its continued success depends on attracting new generations of skilled mariners.

Recently, I spent five days aboard the SS Wilfred Sykes, a 1949 steam-powered freighter operated by Central Marine Logistics. This series explores the ship, the work it performs and, most importantly, the people who keep it sailing.

ABOARD THE SS WILFRED SYKES — Maritime history runs deep in Capt. Jason Cracraft’s family.

His grandfather, Capt. Bruce Masse, was part of the final generation of Chesapeake & Ohio Railway carferry captains in Ludington and later helped lead the SS Badger into its new era under Lake Michigan Carferry.

Cracraft’s mother, Deborah Nord, worked aboard the Badger, as did some of his aunts.

Today, Cracraft, a resident of Hamlin Township, carries on that family tradition from another Great Lakes pilothouse. He is master of the 678-foot SS Wilfred Sykes, one of the oldest active steamships on the Great Lakes.

But becoming a captain was not necessarily the plan when Cracraft first stepped aboard the Sykes more than 20 years ago.

In fact, there really wasn’t a plan at all.

“I never really had any plans for what I wanted to do in life,” he said. “I just started it and liked it.”

Cracraft was born in Scottville, Mich. and spent parts of his childhood in Mason County, Cedar Springs, Mich. and Holland, Mich. before returning to Ludington, Mich.

Ships were always somewhere in the background.

His mother worked in housekeeping aboard the Badger for about 15 years. Her sisters also worked aboard the carferry. Their father, Bruce Masse, had spent his career on the Ludington carferries and eventually became one of the fleet’s captains.

Masse was among the veteran railroad-era mariners who returned when Lake Michigan Carferry revived the Ludington-to-Manitowoc, Wis. service in 1992. He served as the company’s head captain and was master of the Badger when passenger and vehicle service resumed.

Despite the family connection, Cracraft did not initially set out to follow his grandfather into the pilothouse.

Before going to sea, he worked at factories around Ludington and Manistee and did landscaping.

His stepfather, Franklin Nord, helped steer him toward the Great Lakes.

Cracraft had shown an interest in working aboard the Badger.

“He goes, ‘Oh no, no. You go out and work on those freighters if you’re going to work out on a boat,’” Cracraft recalled.

So he did.

Cracraft, known as “Opie” on the ship, obtained his merchant mariner credentials and contacted the company that operated the Sykes.

There was no elaborate career strategy.

“I pretty much called this company,” he said. “‘Hey, you need anybody?’”

A couple weeks later, the answer was yes.

On Aug. 1, 2005, Cracraft joined the crew of the Wilfred Sykes.

At the time, his mother was still working aboard the Badger. Occasionally the two steamships would cross paths and mother and son would talk by cellphone from their respective vessels.

For Cracraft, the Sykes became home.

He started at the bottom, working on deck — chipping paint, maintaining the vessel and learning the jobs that keep a Great Lakes freighter operating.

There are essentially two traditional routes into the pilothouse of a Great Lakes ship. A mariner can attend a maritime academy, such as the Great Lakes Maritime Academy in Traverse City, graduate with the required sea time and credentials and begin a career as a licensed officer.

Or, a person can work his or her way up through the ranks.

Cracraft took the second route, traditionally known in the maritime industry as coming “up through the hawsepipe.”

He liked deck work.

“I probably could have got to this point much faster, but I really liked what I did,” he said.

He accumulated the sea time necessary to become an able seaman and continued learning the practical side of deck operations, including line handling, navigation, safety and eventually steering the ship.

The progression requires years of sea time as well as examinations and additional credentials before a mariner can become a licensed mate.

For Cracraft, that process took nearly 15 years.

He earned his mate’s license in early 2019.

Even then, there was another obstacle. A Great Lakes deck officer needs pilotage endorsements for the waters where he or she will navigate. That means demonstrating knowledge and completing required trips over particular lakes, rivers and connecting waterways.

At the time, the vessels Cracraft was working aboard were not making enough trips through the St. Clair and Detroit rivers for him to obtain the pilotage he needed.

So he left the Sykes.

It wasn’t because he disliked the company or the boats.

He simply needed to advance his career.

“I just had to tell them, ‘Hey, you’re not doing what I need you to do for me right now. I’ve got to go get some stuff done,’” he said.

Cracraft sailed briefly for American Steamship Co. and later worked aboard the Joseph L. Block. He then spent about two months aboard Interlake Steamship Co.’s Kaye E. Barker, making the river trips necessary to earn most of his remaining pilotage.

He returned to the Sykes in September 2021 still needing one portion of the Detroit River.

Then weather intervened.

The Sykes was headed to the Rouge River when a September squall brought heavy rain, lightning and nearly zero visibility. Instead of stopping at the Rouge River, the vessel continued downstream and into Lake Erie before turning around.

The unexpected trip gave Cracraft the final section of river experience he needed.

The next time he went home, he completed the testing and obtained the pilotage endorsements necessary for the routes his company operated.

His progression accelerated from there.

Cracraft worked as second mate and then increasingly as first mate aboard the Sykes. By early 2023, he had accumulated enough qualifying sea time to test for his master’s license.

In November 2023, he earned it.

He first sailed as captain for about a month and a half during the spring of 2025.

Then, in April 2026, following the retirement of the Sykes’ senior captain, Cracraft was named the vessel’s permanent master.

More than 20 years after walking aboard as a deckhand, he was responsible for the entire ship.

“This is the best job I’ve ever had,” he said. “I really do love this job.”

It is a significant ship to command.

Built by American Ship Building Co. at Lorain, Ohio, the Wilfred Sykes had its keel laid Nov. 1, 1948, was launched June 28, 1949 and entered service for Inland Steel Co. on April 19, 1950.

The 678-foot-long, 70-foot-wide vessel represented a major advancement in Great Lakes shipbuilding. It was the first new American-built Great Lakes freighter constructed after World War II, the first laker built with a 70-foot beam and the first designed to carry more than 20,000 tons.

At the time of its launch, the Sykes was the largest vessel on the Great Lakes, earning the traditional title of Queen of the Lakes.

More than 76 years later, the Sykes remains a working freighter.

The vessel is powered by steam turbines supplied by oil-fired boilers, driving a single propeller. Unlike modern vessels equipped with controllable-pitch propellers and bow and stern thrusters, maneuvering the Sykes requires techniques rooted in an earlier era of Great Lakes shipping.

Cracraft said that is part of what makes commanding it special.

“A steamer is a whole different animal,” he said.

When an engine order changes from ahead to astern, the propeller must first stop turning in one direction before beginning to turn the other way. The Sykes also has no stern thruster.

“You’ve got to wait for that propeller to stop and then pick up momentum and start going backwards,” he said.

It requires a captain to anticipate what the ship will do before it does it.

For a mariner who spent years working every level of the deck department, that knowledge is not merely theoretical. Cracraft has handled lines, chipped and painted steel, stood watches, steered the vessel and served through the various deck officer positions. In fact, he still performs many of those duties, which is one of the reason he has earned the high level of respect among his crew.

He understands the work taking place hundreds of feet behind and below the pilothouse because he once did it himself. In fact, he still performs many of those duties, which is one of the reason he has earned the high level of respect among his crew.

“You’ve got to take pride in it,” he said. “You’ve got to do the things that other people don’t want to do.”

The Sykes currently carries a crew of 23, including a cadet from the Great Lakes Maritime Academy.

Like most Great Lakes sailors, the crew spends long stretches away from home. Cracraft said the schedule generally works out to about 60 days aboard followed by about 30 days off, though actual rotations vary depending on relief crews, vacations and operating requirements.

For someone considering a maritime career, Cracraft said the hardest part may initially be adjusting to that time away.

“It’s hard being away from everyone,” he said. “But once you get over that hump ... it’s a good living.”

For people interested in becoming licensed officers, Cracraft said the maritime academy route offers clear advantages. Students can earn licenses and extensive navigation training while completing their education.

Michigan is home to one of the seven American maritime academies. The Great Lakes Maritime Academy is located on the campus of Northwest Michigan College in Traverse City.

He also remains an example of the other route.

A person can still start on deck, learn the ship, accumulate sea time and work his or her way through the ranks.

“If you want to just have a good job and be out in nice weather and have a little adventure — and the rain and the snow and the ice, it is kind of like an adventure — we’re all in it together,” he said.

Cracraft’s life aboard the Sykes also includes one somewhat unusual maritime hobby.

He plays the bagpipes.

He started learning around 2018, about the same time he was studying for his mate’s license. Cracraft realized he was spending too much of his off-watch time watching television in his room and decided to find something else to do.

After watching a video featuring a bagpiper, he became curious.

He ordered an inexpensive beginner’s package that included a practice chanter, music and instructional material.

He stuck with it.

About eight months later, he bought a set of bagpipes in Traverse City.

While working aboard the Joseph L. Block, he would walk as far forward as possible and practice in the windlass room where he was less likely to disturb his shipmates.

The pipes still travel with him.

Now that he occupies the captain’s quarters aboard the Sykes, he said he can close several doors and practice without subjecting the entire vessel to a concert.

The crew, he said, seems to enjoy it.

And why the nickname Opie?

“I’ve got red hair and freckles,” he said. “From the very first moment I stepped foot on a ship someone called me Opie and it has stuck.”

For all of the history surrounding the Wilfred Sykes, Cracraft said what matters most to him is that it remains a working ship and that he is now part of a long succession of sailors who have kept it operating.

“There’s been generations of people that have worked their way up on this boat,” he said. “To be part of that, and to be a steamer captain ... it’s a really unique experience.”

There is also something especially meaningful about commanding a vessel on Lake Michigan.

Cracraft grew up along its shoreline. His family worked on it. From the pilothouse of the Sykes, his job occasionally takes him past the place he still calls home.

“I get to go past my hometown,” he said. “That’s one of the things that really sticks out.”

And while Cracraft is happy aboard the Sykes, another steamship remains in the back of his mind.

Someday, perhaps much later in his career, he would like to command the ship his grandfather once did.

The Badger.

“I’d like to use a little bit of this experience, or learn some more, to try to captain that Badger someday,” he said. “Way in the future.”

It would bring a family maritime story full circle.

Capt. Bruce Masse once stood in the Badger’s pilothouse carrying forward Ludington’s railroad carferry tradition.

His grandson now stands in the pilothouse of another historic Great Lakes steamship, having worked his way from the deck to the captain’s chair.

And, perhaps someday, that path will lead Jason Cracraft home to the Badger.

Tomorrow: Aboard the Wilfred Sykes: Part 5. Chef Greene keeps the Sykes crew fed… and happy

Help support this Substack page and check out our merchandise store.

This story is copyrighted 2026 by Sable Points Media.

By Rob Alway

Editor’s note: For the past several years, I have made it a personal mission to tell the stories of the Great Lakes maritime industry and, especially, the people who work aboard its vessels. As someone who has spent much of my life watching, photographing and studying these ships, I believe their stories deserve to be told.

Documenting the industry is important for preserving its history, but it is equally important for its future. Great Lakes shipping plays a vital role in our nation’s economy, and its continued success depends on attracting new generations of skilled mariners.

Recently, I spent five days aboard the SS Wilfred Sykes, a 1949 steam-powered freighter operated by Central Marine Logistics. This series explores the ship, the work it performs and, most importantly, the people who keep it sailing.

ABOARD THE SS WILFRED SYKES -- I awoke Wednesday morning as the Sykes was passing Little Point Sable, although the shoreline was out of sight. The captain had chosen a mid-lake route to avoid higher waves forecast for Lake Michigan. Fortunately, those waves never materialized, and the ship gradually made its way closer to shore.

About 10 a.m., I glanced aft and spotted the SS Badger several miles away, making its daily crossing from Ludington, Michigan to Manitowoc, Wisconsin

Seeing the familiar carferry from the deck of another Great Lakes steamer was a reminder of the maritime traditions that have long connected these ports.

I have written many stories about the crew of the Badger, a ship whose primary purpose is transporting passengers and vehicles across Lake Michigan. Now, I was aboard a freighter carrying the raw materials that help build and maintain our nation’s infrastructure. It was an opportunity to experience another side of an industry I have spent much of my career watching, photographing and studying.

The ships themselves have always fascinated me, but the more time I spend with the people who work aboard them, the more I appreciate the knowledge, dedication and traditions that keep this industry moving. Their stories deserve to be told, not only to preserve the past, but to help secure the future of Great Lakes shipping.

After several days aboard, I was gaining a much deeper understanding that the Wilfred Sykes is more than a 678-foot collection of steel, steam piping, conveyors, machinery and cargo holds.

A ship is its crew.

The regular complement aboard the Sykes consists of 22 crew members divided among three departments - deck, engine and steward. During my trip, a cadet from Great Lakes Maritime Academy was also aboard, bringing the working complement to 23.

At the top is the master, commonly called the captain.

The master is in command of the entire ship and ultimately responsible for the vessel, its crew, navigation and safe operation.

Cracraft also heads the deck department, which includes the first mate, second mate and third mate. The master and three mates are licensed deck officers. The mates stand navigation watches in the pilothouse, supervise the deck crew and oversee duties that include docking, line handling, maintenance and cargo operations.

Below the licensed officers is the unlicensed deck crew.

The word “unlicensed” can be misleading to someone unfamiliar with the maritime industry. It does not mean those sailors lack qualifications.

Many hold U.S. Coast Guard ratings and endorsements earned through sea time, training and examinations.

One of the entry-level ratings is ordinary seaman, or OS. An ordinary seaman performs many of the basic jobs necessary to keep the ship functioning, including line handling, cleaning, painting, maintenance and assisting more experienced deck crew members.

With enough sea time and additional qualifications, a mariner can advance to able seaman, or AB - traditionally referred to as an able-bodied seaman. An AB can perform more advanced deck work, stand lookout, steer the ship and assume greater responsibility during vessel operations.

The actual shipboard job titles do not always match the rating printed on a mariner’s credential.

The Sykes has three mate’s assistants. They work with the licensed mates on the ship’s three watches and perform duties that can include steering, lookout work and assisting with operation of the deck department.

There is also an able-bodied maintenance man, or ABMM, whose duties emphasize maintenance, along with four deck utility positions performing a variety of jobs throughout the department.

The engine department has a similar structure.

It is headed by the chief engineer, the senior engineering officer responsible for the Sykes‘ steam propulsion plant and the mechanical systems needed to keep the vessel operating.

Below the chief are the first assistant engineer, second assistant engineer and third assistant engineer. All four are licensed engineering officers.

Working with them are three qualified members of the engine department, or QMEDs. A QMED is an unlicensed mariner who has earned Coast Guard qualifications to perform skilled engine-room work. QMED endorsements can cover specific jobs such as oiler and other engine-room specialties.

The engine department also includes the conveyorman, whose responsibilities include machinery associated with the Sykes‘ self-unloading system.

The deck and engine crew members work a schedule of four hours on and eight hours off, such as 4 a.m. to 8 a.m. then 4 p.m. to 8 p.m.

The third department is steward, consisting of the chief steward and steward’s assistant.

The deck department gets the ship where it needs to go. The engine department keeps it mechanically operating. The steward department keeps everyone fed and supports the daily operation of the galley and living spaces.

And feeding more than 20 people three meals a day, seven days a week, while aboard a working freighter is no small responsibility.

The crew itself is a combination of young mariners just beginning their careers and sailors who have spent decades on the lakes.

There are currently three people aboard who hold master’s licenses - Cracraft and two of the mates - while at the other end of the experience spectrum is a 21-year-old ordinary seaman who had started working on the lakes only about two weeks before my trip.

The ship’s officers collectively have well over 150 years of experience.

Some worked their way up through the hawsepipe, starting in unlicensed positions and earning credentials through sea time and examinations. Others entered the industry through a maritime academy.

Those paths eventually meet aboard the same ship.

Tomorrow: Part 4: Capt. Crafcraft follows grandpa Bruce Masse’s footsteps

Help support this Substack page and check out our merchandise store.

This story is copyrighted 2026 by Sable Points Media.

By Rob Alway

LUDINGTON, Mich. — The Norwegian-flagged chemical tanker Prime became a familiar sight in Ludington harbor during the 2026 shipping season, marking a significant change in how OxyChem transported calcium chloride from its Ludington plant to customers in Canada.

The 459-foot tanker arrived in Ludington for the first time on April 26 and made regular voyages throughout the spring and summer. She concluded her Ludington service in early September but continued operating in the St. Lawrence Seaway system into October.

As of Oct. 10, Automatic Identification System (AIS) tracking showed Prime at anchor near Montreal, Quebec, following an Oct. 9 arrival.

Prime replaced the longtime American tug-barge combination Spartan and Spartan II, which had transported calcium chloride from Ludington for decades. The transition brought a foreign-flagged, foreign-crewed tanker into a trade traditionally served by American vessels and mariners.

The change also coincided with a new chapter for OxyChem, which became part of Berkshire Hathaway in January 2026.

Berkshire Hathaway completed its $9.7 billion acquisition of OxyChem from Occidental Petroleum on Jan. 2, bringing the Ludington facility under the ownership of the investment conglomerate. The transaction marked one of the most significant ownership changes in the history of the plant.

The Ludington facility traces its roots to World War II-era magnesium production and has operated under several owners through the years. OxyChem acquired the plant from Dow Chemical in 2009 and continues to produce calcium chloride using naturally occurring brine resources beneath Mason and Manistee counties in Michigan. The facility supplies customers throughout the United States and Canada and remains one of the region’s largest industrial employers.

At the same time, OxyChem had to adapt to the retirement of vessels that historically carried much of that product across the Great Lakes.

Retirement of Spartan and Spartan II

According to OxyChem, Spartan II was permanently retired from service in 2026. The company was evaluating options for her final disposition. Her companion tug, Spartan, was also retired and undergoing decommissioning.

The retirement followed significant structural deficiencies identified while Spartan II was undergoing inspection and repairs at Fincantieri Bay Shipbuilding in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin, during the fall of 2025.

According to American Bureau of Shipping inspection records, surveyors documented widespread corrosion and structural deterioration throughout the barge. Excessive steel wastage was identified on exposed portions of the main deck and trunk deck, along with corrosion on both the port and starboard sides of the hull.

More serious findings emerged during a special survey. Inspectors reported a fracture in the starboard side shell at frame 52 in the turn of the bilge, a critical structural area where the bottom plating transitions into the vessel’s side shell.

Additional damage included multiple gouged hull plates between frames 2 and 5 on the port side, damage near frame 14 in an area that had previously undergone repairs, and a dent in the starboard turn of the bilge at frame 32.

The deficiencies remained listed as outstanding following the inspection, with recommended repairs due by Dec. 29, 2025. Publicly available records did not indicate whether those repairs were completed.

The retirement ended the careers of two vessels that had been familiar participants in Great Lakes commerce for decades.

Spartan II was built in 1980 by Bay Shipbuilding in Sturgeon Bay. Originally named Hannah 6301, the double-hulled liquid barge measured 407 feet long, 60 feet wide and 21 feet deep. Designed for bulk liquid cargoes, she carried up to 10,000 short tons and was equipped with three diesel-powered cargo pumps used to discharge calcium chloride and other liquid products.

Her companion tug, Spartan, was built in 1969 by Burton Shipyard in Port Arthur, Texas. During her career, the tug sailed under several names, including Lead Horse, Gulf Challenger, Challenger and Mark Hannah, before receiving her final name in 2010.

The tug measured 121 feet long with a beam of 31 feet and a depth of 10 feet. Her twin-screw propulsion system generated approximately 3,200 horsepower.

Both vessels were acquired by OxyChem in 2009 and renamed the following year. For more than a decade, the tug-barge combination routinely transported calcium chloride produced in Ludington to customers throughout the Great Lakes region while supporting American maritime jobs through Andrie Inc. of Muskegon, Michigan, which operated the vessels.

Their retirement raised questions about the future of the American maritime jobs that historically supported the route, though OxyChem had not announced any workforce impacts related to the change.

Prime’s history and specifications

Prime represented a significantly different transportation platform from the tug-barge combination she replaced.

The vessel was built in 2004 at the Estaleiros Navais de Viana do Castelo shipyard in Viana do Castelo, Portugal, for Finnish operator Neste Shipping Oy. She entered service as Kiisla and later sailed under the name CM Prime before assuming her present identity.

The tanker measures approximately 459 feet long with a beam of 69 feet. She has a gross tonnage of 9,910 and a deadweight capacity of approximately 14,750 metric tons, or 16,260 short tons.

She is powered by a main engine producing approximately 11,330 horsepower and was designed to transport refined petroleum products and liquid chemicals.

Ownership is listed under MES Trade Invest AG, while vessel management is handled by OSM Ship Management AS. She sails under the Norwegian International Ship Register.

Before coming to the Great Lakes, Prime operated primarily in Northern European waters, serving ports in the Baltic and North Sea regions, including Rotterdam and Amsterdam. Her appearance on the Great Lakes represented a notable shift from her traditional trading pattern.

In April 2026, Prime crossed the Atlantic Ocean from Rotterdam, Netherlands, and entered the Great Lakes through the St. Lawrence Seaway after stopping in Montreal. Before her first Ludington arrival, she called at Port Colborne, Ontario.

Her first visit to Ludington on April 26 also marked the opening of the port’s 2026 commercial shipping season.

Throughout the spring and summer, Prime transported calcium chloride from the OxyChem terminal on Pere Marquette Lake to Canadian customers, visiting ports including Port Colborne and Loyalist Cove, Ontario.

The tanker made repeated voyages to Ludington during the season. Her final months included an extended August stay that concluded Aug. 29. She returned to Ludington on Sept. 2 and departed Sept. 4, completing her season serving the OxyChem facility.

Although her Ludington assignments had ended, Prime remained in Canadian waters through September and into October. AIS records showed that she continued operating in the Great Lakes and St. Lawrence Seaway system, with her latest reported arrival near Montreal on Oct. 9.

OxyChem had confirmed in June that Prime was being used during the 2026 shipping season while the company evaluated long-term transportation options.

Wilma Rivera, OxyChem manager of communications, said the vessel was being used to transport calcium chloride across the Great Lakes for the company’s Canadian customers.

“Long-term plans have not been finalized,” Rivera said at the time.

Whether Prime will return to Ludington in 2027 remains uncertain.

Foreign-flagged vessels and the Jones Act

The use of a foreign-flagged vessel generated questions about potential impacts on American maritime employment and the applicability of the Jones Act, the federal law that generally requires cargo transported between two U.S. ports to move aboard vessels that are American-built, American-owned and American-crewed.

However, Prime‘s operations did not appear to fall under a traditional Jones Act scenario.

Based on publicly available vessel tracking information and statements from OxyChem, she transported calcium chloride from Ludington to customers in Canada. Because those voyages constituted international commerce rather than transportation between two U.S. ports, the Jones Act did not appear to apply to her Canadian cargo movements.

While Prime was foreign-flagged and foreign-crewed, OxyChem’s Ludington facility continued to utilize American maritime operators as part of its transportation network.

In addition to Prime, the plant was served by the tug Candace Elise and barge Robert F. Deegan. Candace Elise is owned and operated by Ashton Marine Co. of North Muskegon, Michigan. Originally built as Patricia Hoey, the tug underwent extensive rebuilding before entering service under Ashton Marine ownership. She routinely operates throughout the Great Lakes towing liquid cargo barges.

Her companion, Robert F. Deegan, is a double-hulled tank barge owned by USS Great Lakes LLC and designed for the transportation of liquid chemicals and petroleum products.

Together, the vessels continued to provide a U.S.-flagged tug-barge operation serving Ludington with American crews aboard American vessels.

Their continued service demonstrated that domestic maritime transportation remained an important component of OxyChem’s logistics operations even as the company used Prime to serve Canadian customers during the 2026 season.

Additionally, the Andrie-owned tug Sarah Andrie assisted Prime in Ludington harbor. The American tug accompanied the tanker through the harbor channel and assisted with docking and departure maneuvers throughout the season.

The distinction between domestic and international cargo movements is important because much of the national debate surrounding Jones Act waivers has focused on domestic cargo movements that would otherwise be reserved for American vessels and crews.

Jim Weakley, president of the Lake Carriers’ Association, has been among the most outspoken critics of expanded Jones Act waivers. He has argued that increased reliance on foreign vessels in domestic trades threatens American jobs, shipyard investment and the long-term viability of the nation’s maritime industry.

In comments made earlier in 2026 concerning Jones Act waivers, Weakley said the practice put American maritime employment and shipbuilding investment at risk.

“Waivers create uncertainty in the industry,” he said.

Weakley argued that allowing foreign interests to compete in domestic cargo transportation could undermine American operators and affect the reliability of the domestic supply chain.

For Great Lakes operators, the Jones Act remains particularly important because American carriers already compete with Canadian operators in international Great Lakes commerce. Weakley has argued that weakening domestic protections would further challenge American fleets, mariners and shipyards.

Although the broader Jones Act debate remained significant for the maritime industry, Prime‘s transportation of Ludington-produced calcium chloride to Canadian destinations involved a different set of circumstances.

A changing maritime industry

The discussion surrounding Prime attracted particular attention in Ludington because of the community’s longstanding connection to Great Lakes shipping.

The city is home port to the SS Badger, the nation’s last coal-fired passenger and vehicle ferry operating on the Great Lakes, as well as the articulated tug-barge Undaunted/Pere Marquette 41. Both operations are part of Interlake Maritime Services of Middleburg Heights, Ohio.

Together with commercial operations serving the OxyChem plant and other harbor facilities, those vessels continue Ludington’s maritime traditions.

For ship enthusiasts, Prime‘s visits provided opportunities to observe and photograph a vessel that had spent most of her career in European waters.

But her appearance on Lake Michigan also illustrated the changes taking place within the maritime industry.

Within the first nine months of 2026, ownership of the OxyChem facility changed hands, the longtime Spartan and Spartan II were retired, and a Norwegian-flagged tanker assumed a prominent role in transporting Ludington-produced calcium chloride across the Great Lakes.

By September, Prime had completed her Ludington service and continued working elsewhere in the Great Lakes and St. Lawrence Seaway system.

OxyChem’s long-term replacement strategy for Spartan and Spartan II remains undetermined publicly, and it is not yet known whether Prime will return to the Ludington trade.

Her 2026 season offered an example of how vessel retirements, corporate ownership changes and international commerce continue to influence the Great Lakes shipping industry.

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This story is copyrighted 2026 by Sable Points Media.

By Rob Alway

Editor’s note: For the past several years, I have made it a personal mission to tell the stories of the Great Lakes maritime industry and, especially, the people who work aboard its vessels. As someone who has spent much of my life watching, photographing and studying these ships, I believe their stories deserve to be told.

Documenting the industry is important for preserving its history, but it is equally important for its future. Great Lakes shipping plays a vital role in our nation’s economy, and its continued success depends on attracting new generations of skilled mariners.

Recently, I spent five days aboard the SS Wilfred Sykes, a 1949 steam-powered freighter operated by Central Marine Logistics. This series explores the ship, the work it performs and, most importantly, the people who keep it sailing.

ABOARD THE SS WILFRED SYKES — Capt. Jason Cracraft first took me to my room, and the accommodations were not exactly what most people would expect to find aboard a Great Lakes freighter built in 1949.

The Sykes was built during an era when company executives and guests sometimes traveled aboard the ships. As a result, the forward accommodations include an entire deck dedicated to guests, with four staterooms capable of sleeping two people each. Each stateroom has its own bathroom, complete with a bathtub and shower.

The guest deck also includes a common area with a kitchenette and spacious lounge. An entire wall of windows overlooks the ship’s long cargo deck, providing an expansive view aft. Two of the staterooms have windows overlooking the bow, while the others offer views to port and starboard.

The accommodations feature an eclectic blend of decor spanning the late 1940s through the 1970s, reflecting the vessel’s long history on the Great Lakes. Wood-paneled walls, earth-tone upholstered furniture, wall-to-wall carpeting and a distinctive geometric coffee table give the lounge the appearance of a vintage living room. The combination of mid-century styling and 1970s furnishings creates a comfortable, nostalgic atmosphere, while the expansive windows offer panoramic views of the cargo deck and surrounding water.

Below the guest deck are officers’ quarters and a recreation area. One deck above the guest accommodations are the master’s quarters and office. Above that is the pilothouse.

That arrangement is part of the Sykes‘ classic Great Lakes appearance. The pilothouse and much of the deck officer accommodations are forward while the engine room, stack, galley and additional crew spaces are aft. Later generations of Great Lakes freighters increasingly concentrated their superstructure and accommodations at the stern.

Once I settled in, Cracraft gave me my first tour of the ship.

Meanwhile, loading continued.

A half-load aboard a vessel the size of the Sykes represents roughly 12,000 tons of stone. Loading a full load at Cedarville, Michigan takes over nine hours under normal circumstances, therefore a half load should have been half that time.

This wasn’t the case on this particular Sunday.

There were multiple equipment breakdowns ashore. At one point an electrician had to be called to the quarry - on a Sunday.

Twice.

The Sykes finally departed Port Dolomite at 5:10 p.m.

That put us beneath the Mackinac Bridge about 7:30 p.m., just after sunset.

For me, passing beneath the Mackinac Bridge was one of the defining moments of the voyage.

I have crossed the bridge countless times in a vehicle, looking down at the waters of the Straits of Mackinac. But this time, I was looking up, standing aboard a Great Lakes freighter as it passed beneath one of Michigan’s most recognizable landmarks.

For the crew, it was another trip through the Straits.

For me, it was thrilling.

What I appreciated was that the crew understood that. Something that is routine for them can be a once-in- a-lifetime experience for someone else. Nobody diminished the excitement.

And I knew I was going to get to do it again on the return trip.

We actually left Port Dolomite earlier than originally planned and without all of the stone we intended to take.

The loading equipment had broken down again, and the quarry crew estimated it could be another hour or two before repairs were completed.

Meanwhile, the M/V Sam Laud was headed toward Port Dolomite from Green Bay, Wisconsin

Cracraft had another calculation to make.

If we waited for the repair and the Sam Laud reached Port Dolomite ahead of our return, the Sykes could face another lengthy delay. We already knew we would probably have to wait at Port Inland for the Saginaw, which had itself been delayed by wind.

The decision was made to leave.

Our run toward Port Inland was a little rough.

The guest accommodations are comfortable, but there is one disadvantage to sleeping in the extreme forward end of a 678-foot ship: You feel the bow move.

I generally do not get seasick, but I had developed a slight headache. I had come prepared with Less Drowsy Dramamine, ginger chews and acupressure wristbands just in case.

Cracraft warned me before I went to sleep that I would probably hear the anchor drop around 3 a.m.

The anchor machinery was almost directly below me.

He was correct.

At about 3 a.m. there was absolutely no question that the Sykes had arrived at Port Inland.

The anchor dropped.

At some point it was adjusted.

Around 6 a.m. it came back up.

I went back to sleep.

By the time I woke about an hour later, we were tied up at Port Inland.

Port Inland has its own industrial landscape. The operation was originally developed by Inland Steel in 1929 and 1930 to provide limestone for its steelmaking operations. The quarry itself is several miles inland. Stone is crushed, sorted and transported toward the lakeshore, where stockpiles feed conveyors leading to the ship-loading dock.

It is a place built around one purpose: moving enormous quantities of stone.

Loading was completed that morning and at 11:30 a.m. we departed Port Inland bound for Burns Harbor, Indiana.

The rest of Monday was one of those days that explains why people are drawn to the Great Lakes.

Lake Michigan was beautiful.

Traveling south, I was able to see the western shores of Beaver Island, the Fox Islands and the Manitou Islands, along with Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. By evening, as we passed Manistee, Michigan, the sunset over Lake Michigan was magnificent.

I had hoped there would still be enough daylight to see Big Point Sable.

There wasn’t.

But several miles offshore, the Ludington, Michigan Pumped Storage Plant illuminated the lakeshore. Beyond it, the synchronized red aviation warning lights atop the 56 wind turbines of Consumers Energy’s Lake Winds Energy Park flashed in unison against the darkened sky.

The next morning brought an entirely different experience.

As the Sykes approached Burns Harbor about 7:30 a.m. Tuesday, I made my way down to the engine room.

Chief Engineer Mark Nickerson invited me into the engine control area. Under the guidance of Nickerson and Third Assistant Engineer Tyler Gray-Hoehn, I was allowed to work the controls as the Sykes approached the harbor, controlling steam to the turbine and watching the ship’s revolutions per minute.

There are very few places left where a person can stand inside the engine room of a working Great Lakes steam freighter, much less have the opportunity I was given.

The Sykes is one of the survivors of an entirely different technological era.

Burns Harbor was impressive from the deck, but it is even more impressive when you understand what the facility actually is.

Cleveland-Cliffs Burns Harbor is a fully integrated steelmaking complex stretching along the southern shore of Lake Michigan. It operates two blast furnaces and has the capacity to produce nearly 5 million net tons of raw steel annually. The site takes raw materials arriving by ship and rail and turns them into steel products used in automobiles, appliances, construction, pipe and a variety of other products.

Farther west, Cleveland-Cliffs’ Indiana Harbor complex in East Chicago, Indiana is another of North America’s largest integrated steelmaking facilities.

Those mills help explain why ships such as the Sykes exist.

The stone beneath my feet had been blasted out of Upper Peninsula quarries, loaded aboard a vessel built three-quarters of a century ago and carried hundreds of miles to become part of one of the most fundamental industrial processes in the country. Much of the equipment moving the limestone on the land appeared to be much older than the Sykes.

The crew told me I must have been a good luck charm at Burns Harbor.

The unload went almost flawlessly.

Apparently that is not always the case.

We finished unloading and departed about 10 p.m.

Burns Harbor had also given us a final taste of summer. The temperature reached about 75 degrees with sunshine. Even better, the wind blew the right direction, carrying the limestone dust away from the ship instead of over it.

Throughout the day I could see the Chicago skyline about 30 miles across Lake Michigan.

At night, the view became even better.

The lights of the city stretched across the horizon while a seemingly endless procession of airplanes descended toward and climbed away from Chicago.

Eventually the city lights disappeared behind us.

The airplanes faded.

The sky became filled with stars.

The lake was smooth.

Tomorrow: Aboard the Wilfred Sykes: Part 3. A ship is its crew

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This story is copyrighted 2026 by Sable Points Media.

By Rob Alway

LUDINGTON — The articulated tug/barge Undaunted/Pere Marquette 41 returned to its home port of Ludington Friday, Oct. 9, arriving about 10 a.m. at the Rieth-Riley Great Lakes Materials terminal along Pere Marquette Lake.

The vessel has been a less frequent visitor to Ludington this shipping season, spending much of its time hauling cargo to other Great Lakes ports, including destinations on Lake Erie and the Detroit River.

Recent Automatic Identification System (AIS) records show the tug/barge visiting Port Colborne, Ontario, Detroit, Monroe, Calcite near Rogers City, and several southern Lake Michigan ports, including Burns Harbor and Indiana Harbor.

Operated by Interlake Logistics Solutions, the tug/barge carries bulk cargo, including limestone and construction aggregate.

The Pere Marquette 41 is the former SS City of Midland 41, a railroad carferry built in 1941 by Manitowoc Shipbuilding Co. in Manitowoc, Wis. It operated out of Ludington until 1988 and was converted into a self-unloading barge in 1997.

The barge measures 403 feet long and 58 feet wide. The 143-foot tug Undaunted, originally built for the U.S. Navy during World War II, is powered by two Cummins diesel engines producing a combined 2,000 horsepower. When connected, the tug and barge have an overall length of approximately 494 feet.

The Undaunted/Pere Marquette 41 and the SS Badger are both under the ownership of Interlake Maritime Services of Middleburg Heights, Ohio, which acquired the Ludington-based shipping operations in 2020.

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This story is copyrighted 2026 by Sable Points Media.

By Rob Alway

Editor’s note: For the past several years, I have made it a personal mission to tell the stories of the Great Lakes maritime industry and, especially, the people who work aboard its vessels. As someone who has spent much of my career watching, photographing and studying these ships, I believe their stories deserve to be told.

Documenting the industry is important for preserving its history, but it is equally important for its future. Great Lakes shipping plays a vital role in our nation’s economy, and its continued success depends on attracting new generations of skilled mariners.

Recently, I spent four days aboard the SS Wilfred Sykes, a 1949 steam-powered freighter operated by Central Marine Logistics. This series explores the ship, the work it performs and, most importantly, the people who keep it sailing.

ABOARD THE SS WILFRED SYKES - Getting aboard a Great Lakes freighter is not like buying a ticket on a cruise ship. There is no passenger schedule. There is no guarantee that the ship will be where you expect it to be when you expect it to be there.

For several weeks I had been coordinating with Capt. Jason Cracraft, master of the SS Wilfred Sykes, trying to find the right opportunity for me to spend several days aboard the ship. Cracraft is a resident of Mason County and I wanted to tell his story about what life is like working on the lakes. As a result of my five days on the ship I will be publishing a series of stories on the crew, including a feature on Cracraft.

A commercial freighter goes where the cargo dictates. It is assigned a port to load, another port to unload and, eventually, another cargo after that. But there are a lot of variables between those assignments.

Another vessel might be occupying the dock. Loading or unloading equipment can break down. Weather can delay a ship for hours or sometimes days. A schedule that looks solid in the morning may be completely different by evening. If a ship has to wait too long at one port and another opens it, it may divert.

Then there was my schedule.

Most importantly, I wanted to make the trip with the least impact on my personal life. Attending my daughters’ after-school activities is important to me, and disappearing aboard a freighter for an unpredictable number of days required some planning.

Finally, Sunday, Oct. 4, looked like the day. Initially, Cracraft said the Sykes was expected to arrive at Port Dolomite, near Cedarville, Michigan, about 3 a.m. This meant spending the night at a hotel.

But, it also meant taking care of personal business first on Saturday. My oldest daughter performs in the Mason County Central High School Marching Band. Not only do I always want to see her perform, I’m also the dad who has the pickup truck that hauls the trailer. On Saturday, the MCC band was performing at a competition in Cedar Springs, Michigan -- at 9:30 a.m. We left the school at 6:30 a.m. After the band’s performance, I left and drove back home. Dropped off the trailer and then headed to Cedarville where I would spend the night.

A Great Lakes legend

The Wilfred Sykes is not only one of the oldest operating ships on the Great Lakes, it is also one of the most decorated.

Built by American Ship Building Co. in Lorain, Ohio, in 1949 for Inland Steel Co., the 678-foot Wilfred Sykes was the first new American-built Great Lakes freighter constructed after World War II. At the time of its launch, it was the largest vessel on the Great Lakes.

The Sykes was an important step in the evolution of the modern lake freighter. It was the first Great Lakes vessel built with a 70-foot beam and the first laker designed to carry more than 20,000 tons. Today, depending on draft, it can carry about 24,000 tons.

It is powered by steam turbines producing a combined 7,700 horsepower, turning a single 18 1/2-foot- diameter propeller. The ship was designed for speeds of about 16 mph. In normal open-water operation today, it commonly travels around 12 to 13 knots, or about 14 to 15 mph, depending on load and conditions.

The Sykes was also an innovator in how that steam was produced. While most Great Lakes steamships of the era burned coal, the Sykes became the first Great Lakes steamship built to burn Bunker C heavy fuel oil. Its two oil-fired boilers produce the steam that powers the ship’s 7,700-horsepower turbine propulsion system.

The Sykes is also one of the last active steam-powered freighters on the Great Lakes.

The ship was originally built as a traditional bulk carrier and was converted to a self-unloader in the 1970s. Its cargo is discharged through a conveyor system and a 250-foot stern-mounted unloading boom that can swing to either side of the vessel.

The Sykes also has a long history beyond hauling cargo.

In May 1953, its crew participated in the rescue following the sinking of the steamer Henry Steinbrenner on Lake Superior. Members of the Sykes crew took a lifeboat into heavy seas and rescued two men. In 1975, the Sykes was among the vessels that participated in the search following the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Today, the Sykes is operated by Central Marine Logistics. The company’s other active self-propelled bulk carrier is the Joseph L. Block. Central Marine also manages the Edward L. Ryerson, another classic Inland Steel steamship that remains in long-term layup.

The Sykes‘ present work is centered heavily around limestone used by the steel industry. While it travels to other Great Lakes ports, two of its primary loading locations are Port Dolomite near Cedarville on northern Lake Huron and Port Inland near Gulliver, Michigan on northern Lake Michigan. Much of that stone is delivered to the Cleveland-Cliffs steelmaking complexes at Burns Harbor, Indiana, and Indiana Harbor in East Chicago, Indiana

The two Upper Peninsula loading ports provide different stone.

Port Dolomite is part of the Carmeuse Cedarville operation, a major dolomite quarry. Dolomitic limestone contains significant amounts of magnesium along with calcium.

Port Inland is also operated by Carmeuse and primarily produces high-calcium limestone. Its quarry is several miles inland from Lake Michigan, with stone transported to the processing and loading area near the lakeshore.

Limestone and dolomite serve as fluxes in steelmaking. In simplified terms, the stone helps remove impurities during the ironmaking process. As the material is heated, compounds in the limestone react with impurities and help form slag, which can then be separated from the molten iron. The different chemical properties of high-calcium limestone and dolomite allow steelmakers to control that process.

For the load I would accompany, the Sykes would take stone from both Port Dolomite and Port Inland, blending the two products in its cargo holds before taking them south to Burns Harbor.

The schedule was looking fairly solid, but I learned on the very first day that nothing in the shipping business goes as planned. The Sykes certainly arrived at 3 a.m. as the captain told me. Except, another ship, the 639-foot M/V Mark W. Barker of Interlake Steamship Co., got in line first. That meant the Sykes had to anchor in McKay Bay and wait its turn.

Photographers are always looking for a good vantage point to photograph. Flying a drone adds another dimension as you often need to launch and land from a public space (unless you have permission on private property). The night before I discovered a small roadside park along M-134 just east of the quarry. From there, I launched the drone over the bay and got some photographs of the John J. Boland loading and the Mark W. Barker anchored, waiting its turn.

I returned Sunday morning where I got some photos with the drone of the Sykes backing into place at the dock. About 8:55 a.m., Cracraft called and told me he would be able to pick me up in the quarry parking lot in a few minutes.

I packed the drone and drove about a half-mile down the road.

Cracraft arrived in a pickup with a couple of dock workers who graciously helped me with my gear.

I quickly learned something about limestone quarries.

There is limestone everywhere.

It is outside the truck. It is inside the truck. It is on the road. It is on your bags. It is on everything you touch.

Everywhere.

At the Sykes, deckhands were waiting with a cargo basket. My duffle bag, camera backpack and computer bag were loaded into it and lifted aboard - along with whatever limestone each bag had collected during the previous few minutes.

Then it was my turn. No passenger gangway. No ramp.

I was handed a reflective vest, a hard hat and a life preserver and shown the ladder to the deck.

Tomorrow: Part 2. Aboard the Wilfred Sykes: Life aboard a working freighter

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This story is copyrighted 2026 by Sable Points Media.

By Rob Alway

The Flint & Pere Marquette Railway expanded its company-owned steamship fleet again in the late 1880s with F&PM No. 3 and F&PM No. 4. The new vessels retained the wooden-hulled package-freight design of the first Black Boats but were larger and offered substantially better passenger accommodations.

Frank E. Kirby again designed the ships. Construction of F&PM No. 3 began in 1886 under a Detroit Dry Dock contract, with Linn & Craig building the wooden hull at Gibraltar, Mich. She was launched April 1, 1887. The vessel measured about 187 feet long, 34.5 feet wide and registered roughly 924 gross tons.

No. 3 could accommodate about 200 passengers. Walnut woodwork, plush furnishings and oil lamps gave the ship a level of comfort far beyond the modest passenger quarters aboard Nos. 1 and 2. The railroad was increasingly competing not only for freight but also for overnight travelers between Michigan and Wisconsin.

Capt. John W. Duddleson supervised construction and became No. 3’s first master. When F&PM No. 4 joined the fleet in 1888, Duddleson moved to the new vessel and Capt. John W. Stewart took command of No. 3.

F&PM No. 4 was built by Detroit Dry Dock at Wyandotte. She was also about 187 feet long and was powered by a compound engine supplied with steam by two Scotch boilers. Like No. 3, she carried passengers and package freight rather than railroad cars.

The larger Black Boats generally worked the Ludington-Manistee-Milwaukee trade, while the earlier vessels were increasingly assigned to other routes such as Ludington-Manitowoc. Salt moved west while grain, flour and other products came east. Hundreds of men worked the Ludington docks transferring cargo between trains, warehouses and vessels.

The creation of the Pere Marquette Railway in 1900 brought new names. F&PM No. 3 and F&PM No. 4 became Pere Marquette 3 and Pere Marquette 4. In 1903 both were sold, along with Pere Marquette 2, to Gus Kitzinger’s Manistee, Ludington & Milwaukee Transportation Co., which became associated with the Pere Marquette Line Steamers.

No. 3’s career ended after she became caught in ice off Ludington in March 1920. The wooden hull was badly damaged and settled by the stern. She was later raised and taken to Manitowoc, but rebuilding was judged impractical. The remains were eventually burned.

No. 4 survived longer. She collided with the steel carferry Pere Marquette 17 outside Milwaukee in dense fog in May 1923. The old wooden steamer later became a clubhouse for the Columbia Yacht Club in Chicago and was finally condemned and destroyed in the 1930s.

The railroad’s next Black Boat would be much larger than any of her predecessors - and would become the last major package-freight steamer built for the Flint & Pere Marquette before the railroad began searching for a radically different solution.

Coming in Part 5: F&PM No. 5 - the largest of the Black Boats.

By Rob Alway

Long before Kevin Diedrich learned the maze of pipes, valves and machinery deep within the engine room of the SS Badger, he knew the Ludington carferries from the shoreline.

Diedrich grew up in Manitowoc, where his grandparents lived near Lake Michigan. He and his sister would mow their grandparents’ lawn, then head toward the lakeshore to watch the carferries arrive and depart.

His sister drew pictures of the ships — the Badger, City of Midland 41 and Viking, the former Ann Arbor No. 7. It was simply part of growing up in a Lake Michigan port city where the big railroad ferries were part of the landscape.

Diedrich could not have known then that he would eventually spend nearly a quarter-century aboard one of those ships, working his way through every position in its engine department before finishing his career as chief engineer.

Diedrich retired at the conclusion of the Badger’s 2025 sailing season, bringing to a close a maritime career that had come full circle — from a boy watching carferries from shore to one of the people entrusted with keeping the last Ludington carferry running.

A return to the lake

A 1979 graduate of Lincoln High School in Manitowoc, Diedrich initially went into manufacturing, working as a production machinist.

In 1982, he joined the U.S. Coast Guard. He attained the rank of petty officer second class as a machinery technician and served six years, including two years aboard a 180-foot buoy tender in Alaska.

After leaving the Coast Guard, Diedrich returned to Manitowoc and to manufacturing. Over the next two decades he worked as a machinist and later a millwright.

But eventually he missed sailing.

In 2001, Diedrich began looking for a way back onto the water. His previous Coast Guard experience helped him obtain his Qualified Member of the Engine Department credential, commonly known as QMED, and he began applying to Great Lakes shipping companies.

Then he learned that the Badger was hiring.

Senior Chief Engineer Chuck Cart encouraged Diedrich not to immediately leave his manufacturing job. Instead, Cart suggested he begin aboard the Badger as a weekend relief crew member.

It proved to be good advice.

Diedrich started as a coal passer, one of the most basic — and physically demanding — positions in the engineering department. From there, he steadily worked his way upward.

During his career aboard the Badger, Diedrich served as coal passer, fireman, water tender, oiler, junior engineer, third engineer, second engineer, first engineer, chief engineer and senior chief engineer.

It was a progression he took considerable pride in.

“I’m pretty proud of that,” Diedrich said.

He believed he was the only person since the railroad era to have worked every position in the Badger’s engine department.

In 2012, Diedrich earned his unlimited chief engineer’s license, completing a progression of engineering credentials that had taken him from an entry-level position shoveling coal to responsibility for one of the most historically significant marine propulsion plants still operating.

Keeping steam alive

The Badger is unlike virtually any other commercial vessel operating on the Great Lakes.

Built by Christy Corporation at Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin, and launched in 1952 for the Chesapeake & Ohio Railway, the 410-foot, 6-inch ship was constructed along with sister ship Spartan during the final years of the railroad carferry era.

Deep inside the Badger are two four-cylinder Skinner Unaflow reciprocating steam engines. Each is rated at 3,500 horsepower, giving the ship 7,000 horsepower in total. Steam is produced by four Foster-Wheeler coal-fired boilers.

The machinery represents an earlier era of marine engineering. The Badger’s propulsion system has been designated a Historic Mechanical Engineering Landmark by the American Society of Mechanical Engineers, and the ship itself is a National Historic Landmark.

For Diedrich, the machinery was one of the reasons the job became much more than simply employment.

“I just fell in love with these engines. They are just so unique.”

Operating machinery designed more than seven decades ago requires a different kind of mechanical knowledge than working with many modern propulsion systems. Replacement components cannot always be ordered from a catalog. Parts may have to be fabricated. Problems must often be diagnosed using experience and an intimate understanding of how the machinery sounds, feels and operates.

Diedrich spent years developing that knowledge and then passing it along to others.

The engine room also became its own community.

While passengers several decks above enjoyed the four-hour crossing between Ludington and Manitowoc, Diedrich and the engineering crew worked below decks keeping steam pressure up, machinery lubricated and the ship’s massive propulsion plant operating.

It was, as Diedrich described it, the engineering department’s own little world within the larger ship.

Part of the Badger’s transition

Diedrich’s career also spanned an important period in the Badger’s history.

He joined Lake Michigan Carferry less than a decade after the vessel had returned to service as a passenger and vehicle ferry in 1992. He served through changes in the ship, its operation and eventually its ownership.

For most of his career, Lake Michigan Carferry was owned by Bob Manglitz, Don Clingan and the late Jim Anderson. In 2020, the company and the Badger were acquired by Interlake Maritime Services.

Through those changes, the fundamental job in the engine room remained the same: keep the steam plant operating safely and reliably so the Badger could continue crossing Lake Michigan.

And for Diedrich, that meant maintaining machinery unlike anything he had encountered before coming aboard.

Cart, who eventually moved into a shoreside management position, remained an important mentor throughout Diedrich’s career. When Diedrich advanced to senior chief engineer, Cart helped accommodate his desire to remain in Manitowoc during the winter rather than spending the entire layup season in Ludington.

The relationship represented another important element of Great Lakes maritime culture — experienced sailors teaching the people coming behind them.

Eventually Diedrich became one of those experienced sailors himself.

The final season

By 2025, Diedrich knew it was time to bring his sailing career to an end.

Life aboard a vessel comes with sacrifices that are not always apparent to passengers. Sailing schedules do not stop for birthdays, weddings, funerals or other family events. For decades, Diedrich spent much of each sailing season aboard the ship.

With his son grown and established in his own career, Diedrich wanted more time at home with his family.

The Badger completed its 2025 sailing season in October. When Diedrich stepped away, he left behind much more than a job.

He had begun aboard the ship as a weekend relief coal passer in 2001 and finished his career as one of the people responsible for preserving and operating one of the most remarkable surviving steam propulsion systems in the world.

There is a fitting symmetry to Diedrich’s story.

As a boy in Manitowoc, he stood along Lake Michigan watching the carferries.

Years later, thousands of passengers stood on shore and watched the Badger sail while Diedrich was several decks below them, surrounded by steam pipes, gauges, connecting rods and the rhythmic movement of the Skinner engines, helping keep the ship moving across the same lake.

For nearly a quarter-century, that engine room was his place aboard the Badger.

And by the time he retired, Diedrich had become part of the history he once watched from shore.

By Rob Alway

The Flint & Pere Marquette Railway took direct control of its cross-lake steamship service in 1882 with the arrival of F&PM No. 1 and F&PM No. 2. The nearly identical wooden propellers were designed by Frank E. Kirby and built by Detroit Dry Dock Co. as hull Nos. 59 and 60.

The ships were created primarily to move grain and package freight, though they also carried passengers. Their dark-painted wooden hulls helped give the railroad’s growing fleet its familiar nickname: the Black Boats.

Both vessels were originally about 144 feet long with a beam slightly greater than 30 feet. The railroad quickly discovered that more capacity was needed. In 1883, each was returned to the shipyard and lengthened by approximately 36 feet, producing vessels about 180 feet long.

The machinery was located aft. Each steamer used a compound engine and a single firebox boiler, with power reported at roughly 560 to 600 horsepower. Passenger accommodations were modest, generally for about 25 people, because the ships’ principal function remained freight transportation.

Capt. James B. Muir brought F&PM No. 1 to Ludington in September 1882 and remained her master until his death in 1888. Capt. John W. Duddleson commanded F&PM No. 2. Duddleson became one of the important practical marine figures in the railroad’s early steamship operation.

The railroad’s new vessels ended its dependence on Goodrich. The Goodrich contract expired April 1, 1883, and the Flint & Pere Marquette thereafter operated its own principal cross-lake fleet. The change gave the railroad direct control of vessels, crews and schedules, but it did not eliminate the greatest inefficiency in the system: every shipment still had to be transferred between railroad cars and ships by hand.

F&PM No. 1 had a long second life after leaving the railroad. She was sold in 1896, later renamed Wisconsin and passed through several owners. A contemporary Marinette newspaper account reported that her remains were raised from the Menominee River in 1934 after years submerged and that the old hull was burned near Green Island that July.

F&PM No. 2 became Pere Marquette 2 after the formation of the Pere Marquette Railway. She was sold in 1903 with several of the other Black Boats, later went to Canadian owners and was renamed Dundurn. The vessel ended as a barge and sank in Lake Erie near Ashtabula in 1919 while under tow. Two men were lost.

The first Black Boats had given the railroad independence on Lake Michigan. Traffic continued to grow, and the next vessels would be larger, more comfortable and better suited to the overnight trade between Ludington and Wisconsin.

Coming in Part 4: F&PM No. 3 and F&PM No. 4 - larger Black Boats for a growing cross-lake business.

By Rob Alway

The Flint & Pere Marquette Railway changed its principal Wisconsin connection from Sheboygan to Milwaukee in 1876 and turned to the Goodrich Transportation Co. to operate the cross-lake steamship service. Goodrich was already one of the dominant passenger and package-freight carriers on Lake Michigan, with a network linking ports from Chicago northward.

Goodrich vessels associated with the railroad’s Ludington service over the following years included steamers such as De Pere, Corona, Oconto, Alpena and City of Ludington. Passengers could travel across the lake while freight continued moving through the labor-intensive break-bulk process used since the first John Sherman crossing.

The relationship exposed Ludington to some of the most advanced passenger steamship design on Lake Michigan. Frank E. Kirby, who would later become one of the central figures in Great Lakes railroad carferry development, designed several new iron steamers for Goodrich and the Detroit Dry Dock Co.

The iron sidewheeler City of Milwaukee was launched in February 1881. About 231 feet long, she was equipped with machinery built by W.A. Fletcher Co. and developed roughly 1,500 horsepower. The vessel later passed through several owners, was renamed Holland in 1904 and Muskegon in 1919, and was lost that year after striking the south pier at Muskegon during a gale.

Goodrich also added the near-identical iron screw steamers Michigan and Wisconsin in 1881. Approximately 218 feet overall, both were designed for passenger and package-freight service and included reinforced bows and double iron bottoms with water ballast. Their construction reflected the growing demand for reliable winter navigation on Lake Michigan.

Michigan was trapped in ice in February 1885 and sank March 19 after the crew escaped. Wisconsin survived for nearly another half-century before sinking off Kenosha in 1929. The wreck later became recognized for its historic significance.

The Goodrich arrangement gave the Flint & Pere Marquette a dependable connection to Milwaukee, but the railroad remained dependent on another company for a critical portion of its route. Freight still had to be transferred by hand at both ends of the lake crossing, and railroad management increasingly wanted greater control over schedules, costs and equipment.

The answer came in 1882. The Flint & Pere Marquette ordered its own steamers from Detroit Dry Dock, again turning to Frank Kirby for the design. The new vessels would begin a company-owned fleet and introduce Ludington to the steamers that became known locally as the Black Boats.

Coming in Part 3: F&PM No. 1 and F&PM No. 2 - the first Black Boats built for the railroad.

By Rob Alway

Oct. 2, 2026

MUSKEGON, Mich. — I have been trying to get a good set of photographs of the M/V Algoma Buffalo for nearly a year.

My first real attempt came Nov. 17, 2025, when the ship called at Manistee, Mich. The weather was less than cooperative that day and the Algoma Buffalo sat anchored a couple miles offshore. I flew my drone about a mile out over Lake Michigan and used its telephoto lens to get a few images, but they were not really up to the standard I want for my ship photography.

When she finally came into the harbor, the timing did not work with my schedule.

Since then, there have been a few other opportunities — and a few other misses.

This season especially, I have not had as much spare time to make a special trip from my home near Ludington down to Muskegon or Grand Haven just to photograph a ship. Muskegon is about an hour south of me, and Grand Haven is farther yet. As much as I enjoy chasing freighters, sometimes the logistics simply do not work.

Friday was different.

My daughter had a medical appointment in Grand Rapids and I knew the Algoma Buffalo would be in Muskegon. On our way back north, the timing finally lined up. The ship was alongside the Verplank dock on the eastern end of Muskegon Lake, unloading, and I had an opportunity to photograph her from both the ground and the air.

After nearly a year of trying, I finally caught the Algoma Buffalo.

A River Class laker

According to “Know Your Ships,” Algoma Buffalo is a 634-foot, 10-inch self-unloading bulk carrier built in 1978 by Bay Shipbuilding Corp. at Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin. Originally named Buffalo, she spent most of her career with American Steamship Co. before joining the Algoma Central Corp. fleet and becoming the Algoma Buffalo in 2018.

At 68 feet wide, the vessel is part of Algoma’s River Class, a group of ships well suited for ports and waterways where maneuvering room is tighter than at the large open-water terminals frequented by 1,000-foot freighters. That versatility allows the Algoma Buffalo to serve destinations throughout the Great Lakes, including river ports and smaller industrial harbors.

The ship is equipped with a 250-foot self-unloading boom and can carry roughly 24,000 metric tons of cargo, depending on draft. Her unloading system is capable of moving cargo at rates approaching 5,900 metric tons per hour.

Nearly half a century after entering service, the Algoma Buffalo remains an active part of the Great Lakes bulk fleet, hauling the stone, salt and other materials that continue to move through the region’s industrial ports.

From power plant to deep-water port

The setting Friday was also interesting.

The Verplank facility occupies the former B.C. Cobb Generating Plant property at the eastern end of Muskegon Lake. For decades, the industrial site revolved around coal. Consumers Energy made a major investment in the dock in 2008, spending about $11 million to upgrade the facility so that 1,000-foot Great Lakes freighters could deliver coal to the power plant.

The Cobb plant eventually closed, and Forsite Development acquired the property from Consumers Energy in 2017. Verplank Dock Co. of Ferrysburg, Mich. purchased the 115-acre site in June 2020 and redeveloped it as a modern bulk-material terminal. The new port facility officially opened in August 2022. Verplank described it at the time as the largest deep-water port facility on Michigan’s western shore and the only one there capable of handling a 1,000-foot freighter.

Today Verplank’s business centers on bulk materials. The company handles products including limestone, slag and trap rock as part of an operation that moves millions of tons of essential materials throughout west Michigan and the Midwest.

My Muskegon launch site

When I photograph vessels at the Verplank terminal, my preferred staging point is Richards Charter Park, just a short distance away.

Richards is not an elaborate waterfront park. In fact, that is part of what makes it useful. The City of Muskegon describes the 7.5-acre property, also known as Boom Park, as a small rustic park providing access to the Muskegon River and Muskegon Lake.

The Muskegon Lakeshore Trail passes through the area. The trail system follows the Muskegon waterfront and connects north toward North Muskegon, with Richards Park identified as one of the access points along the route.

For me, however, its value is photographic.

There is room to safely launch and recover the drone while maintaining visual line of sight as I fly toward the Verplank dock. The bicycle and pedestrian trail leads toward a nearby bridge that also provides an excellent elevated view of vessels working at the eastern end of Muskegon Lake.

For aerial ship photography, that combination is difficult to beat: a legal public location, open sight lines and relatively easy access to a part of the harbor that otherwise has a heavily industrial character.

Friday I launched from Richards and sent the drone toward the Algoma Buffalo, finally getting the overhead and broadside views that had eluded me since last November.

Captain TJ

There is another reason the Algoma Buffalo has become an interesting ship to follow.

Her captain, Capt. TJ Pryor, has developed a substantial following among Great Lakes shipping enthusiasts through his Captain TJ YouTube channel. His videos offer something shipwatchers normally do not get to see: Great Lakes shipping from the pilothouse.

Rather than simply filming ships from shore, Pryor documents voyages from aboard a working laker. His channel includes narrated time-lapse passages, docking and undocking sequences, pilothouse views, ship-handling videos and behind-the-scenes looks at life aboard the lakes. Recent videos have followed the Algoma Buffalo through places ranging from the Welland Canal and Detroit and St. Clair rivers to the Cuyahoga River, Green Bay and Lake Michigan - and even Manistee.

For anyone interested in the actual operation of Great Lakes vessels, that perspective is valuable. Boat nerds spend a lot of time watching from piers, beaches, bridges and drones. Pryor’s videos show what is happening on the other side of the pilothouse windows — courses being steered, approaches being made and a 634-foot ship being maneuvered through waterways where a few feet can matter.

It also gives the Algoma Buffalo a personality that goes beyond her specifications.

The Great Lakes shipping community has always developed attachments to particular vessels and crews. Social media has simply provided a new way for sailors and those watching from shore to connect. Pryor’s channel is one of the better examples of that bridge between the two worlds.

Friday, though, my focus was still on the ship itself.

After several missed opportunities, a long drone flight off Manistee last fall and plenty of AIS watching since then, the circumstances finally came together.

The Algoma Buffalo was in Muskegon.

I had my cameras.

And, finally, I had the photographs I had been waiting nearly a year to make.

The aerial images were captured with a DJI Mavic 3 Pro drone, with most photographed using its 24 mm Hasselblad camera. Ground-level images were captured with an iPhone 16 Pro, providing a compact complement to the aerial photography. I normally would create the ground-level images with either my DSLR or mirrorless camera but the shots included were unplanned

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LUDINGTON — Bernard “Bunny” Robertson, Bjoruin “Lindy” Johnson, Ernest Barth, John Bissell, Bruce Masse, Gregg Andersen, Dean Hobbs and Kevin Fitch are among the men who have served as masters of the S.S. Badger, the last of a long line of car ferries based out of Ludington.

In 2023, another captain joined that list: Ed Wiltse.

While Capt. Wiltse may seem relatively new to the Badger, his relationship with Lake Michigan Carferry goes back to 1996. His first stint aboard the ship lasted only one season, but the job that followed would help shape the future of the company and preserve another important piece of Ludington’s car ferry legacy.

“Ed Wiltse is a perfect example of a ship’s captain,” said Chuck Leonard, general manager of Lake Michigan Carferry and Interlake Logistical Solutions. “He is a high-quality boat operator and also knows the value of treating the crew and visitors with dignity and respect. I’m also proud to call him my friend.”

Wiltse’s maritime career began after he graduated from Portage High School in Portage, Ind., in 1983 and enrolled at the Great Lakes Maritime Academy in Traverse City.

“I didn’t want an office job,” he said. “I wanted to work outside, in nature. I just didn’t want to spend my life working behind a desk and working for the weekend. I decided to go into the maritime industry. I had always been interested in ships and maritime history.”

He met his wife, a Traverse City native, while attending the academy.

Following three years at the academy, he earned a license as a Great Lakes mate and first-class pilot. The program now takes four years. A week after graduating, he was offered a job.

“Great Lakes shipping had really suffered in the early ’80s,” he said, referring to a downturn in the American steel industry. “When I graduated, it still wasn’t that great. But I was offered a job on the Armco.”

The M/V Armco was built in 1953 by American Shipbuilding Co. in Lorain, Ohio, for the Columbia Transportation Division of the Oglebay Norton Company of Cleveland, Ohio, the same company that operated the Edmund Fitzgerald. The 647-foot ship is now called the American Valor and is currently laid up at Toledo.

Wiltse worked aboard the Armco as a relief mate until the end of 1987. He then began working for Inland Steel Co. of East Chicago, Ind., aboard the 730-foot M/V Edward L. Ryerson, built in 1960. There, he served as a full-time mate.

He eventually moved ashore as assistant to the fleet manager and spent a total of eight years with Inland Steel.

“My wife and I decided that we wanted to move back to the Traverse City area to raise our daughter,” he said. “Plus, that’s where my wife was from.”

In 1996, Wiltse was hired by Lake Michigan Carferry to serve as a mate and eventual captain aboard the Badger.

“Capt. Bruce Masse was getting ready to retire, for the second time,” he said. “So, I was hired to eventually replace him.”

Wiltse did skipper the Badger as a relief captain during the 1996 season, but his career soon took a different turn.

Lake Michigan Carferry President Bob Manglitz asked Wiltse to find an alternative to scrapping the beloved S.S. City of Midland 41.

The City of Midland 41 had been built at Manitowoc Shipbuilding Co. in Manitowoc, Wis., in 1941. She was the last car ferry built for the Pere Marquette Railway, which was later merged into the C&O Railway.

Along with the Badger and Spartan, she was purchased in 1983 by Ludington-based Michigan-Wisconsin Transportation Co. and operated as the company’s primary vessel, transporting mainly rail cars between Ludington and Kewaunee.

In 1987, U.S. Coast Guard inspections showed that the 41’s boiler mounts had deteriorated and needed replacement. The repairs were waived for a year, but in 1988 M-WT decided to lay her up and use the 410-foot Badger instead.

The three vessels were purchased in 1991 by retired Holland businessman Charles Conrad, a Ludington native, with the formation of Lake Michigan Carferry. The Badger remained the company’s flagship, while the Spartan and City of Midland 41 stayed moored. The Spartan was preserved in part because she was nearly identical to the Badger and could serve as a source of parts.

“In the winter of 1996, we came up with the idea of converting the 41 into a barge,” Wiltse said. “There was a need for a bulk ship to handle materials that the larger self-unloaders couldn’t handle, a niche market for a vessel.”

The concept was to convert the City of Midland 41 into a barge and pair it with a tug, creating an articulated tug-barge operation.

After financing was secured, the 41 was towed from Ludington harbor to Muskegon on Oct. 1, 1997, where her superstructure was reduced and she was renamed Pere Marquette 41.

Wiltse was then tasked with finding a tug.

He located the M/T Undaunted in Escanaba, a 133-foot tug built in 1943 for the U.S. Navy. The vessel, then known as ATA-199, had been assigned to the Pacific Theater during World War II. By 1993, it was owned by Basic Marine Inc. of Escanaba and was named Krystal K.

The name Undaunted honored the name the tug had carried while serving in the naval reserve fleet and, briefly, for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.

In 1998, Pere Marquette Shipping began operating the tug-barge combination, with Wiltse serving as executive vice president and chief operating officer. The new company created an additional revenue stream for the car ferry operation.

Today, that company is known as Interlake Logistics Solutions and, like the Badger, is owned by Interlake Maritime Services of Middleburg Heights, Ohio.

One of Wiltse’s assistants at Pere Marquette Shipping was Chuck Leonard, who is now his boss.

“When I left Pere Marquette Shipping in 2001, Chuck took over the operation and continues in that capacity today,” Wiltse said. “This summer he was also assigned the duties of general manager of Lake Michigan Carferry. I am honored to serve under Chuck’s leadership, which has helped solidify that both operations will be successful for years to come.”

Like many mariners, Wiltse eventually found himself drawn back to the water.

“My career seems to alternate between sailing positions and working ashore,” he said with a chuckle.

He next became a captain for Grand River Navigation, a division of Rand Logistics Inc. of Jersey City, N.J. He later moved ashore again as fleet captain, but only after arranging to remain based in northern Michigan.

“I said I wouldn’t work in Ohio,” he said. “I needed to stay in Traverse City. That’s one thing that has been a priority to me throughout my career, being in a place where I could be with my family, living a lifestyle that we enjoy and cherish. That has been more important to me.”

Following a five-year career at Grand River Navigation, Wiltse joined Port City Marine Services in Muskegon, where he served as president. He later became vice president of operations for VanEnkevort Tug & Barge Inc. in Escanaba.

Eventually, the sea came calling again, as did the Badger.

The ship he had once been hired to captain had remained part of the arc of his career, even as his work took him elsewhere. In 2023, nearly three decades after first joining Lake Michigan Carferry, he was offered the opportunity to become one of the Badger’s two captains.

“It’s kind of funny that it took that long for me to finally become captain of the Badger,” Wiltse said. “But this is where I want to spend the rest of my career: on the water, captain of this incredible, historic steamship. The Badger is so unique. There is nothing else like her around. Operating the Badger is not like sailing on a laker.

“She is historically significant. I’ve always been a history buff, and being a part of a sailing history that began in the 1890s is just a true honor. Her Skinner Unaflow reciprocating engines are the only ones I am aware of that are still in operation. I am just really proud of what I do and am happy to finish my career here.

“My hope is that when I leave, the Badger’s legacy is even stronger than when I began back in the ’90s. I think under the current leadership and owners, that is a sure thing.”