Point Iroquois

Checking out some lighthouses was the primary reason for my trip to the Upper Peninsula, and on Friday I visited my first light.  Point Iroquois Light Station is located at the point where Lake Superior empties into the St. Marys River, about 20 miles west of Sault Ste. Marie.  It sits within the Hiawatha National Forest, and is a must-see stop on the U.S. Forest Service's Whitefish Bay Scenic Byway.

The light was first illuminated in 1870 and remained in operation until 1963.  The current facility replaced a "rubble stone" light built in 1856.  The conical 1870 tower is 65 feet tall.  The Fourth Order Fresnel Lens had a focal plane of 72 feet above water level, flashed every 30 seconds, and could be seen 15 miles away.

My first impression was that the facility is in unusually good condition — neat as a pin.  I assumed that resulted from being on the receiving end of federal funding.  In fact, the facility is leased to the non-profit Bay Mills/Brimley Historical Research Society.  They are largely responsible for renovation of the lighthouse and buildings, and provide staff from May-October.

Point Iroquois is on the south shore of Lake Superior,
scene of a battle between Iroquois and Chippewa warriors.
The Iroquois lost.

This facility is handsome, and the site is incredible.
Location... location... location.

The Keeper's House was my first stop.  This shows visitors how the Keeper and his/her family lived.  A lighthouse was not only an aid to navigation, but also a family's home.  The government agency in charge of lighthouses (over the years known as the Lighthouse Establishment, Board, and Service, and finally the U.S. Coast Guard) recognized that a keeper family needed a secure roof over their heads.  Because so many keeper families lived in isolated locations, the home had to be comfortable.

At Point Iroquois the Keeper's House has been furnished and decorated as it might have appeared in the early 1950s.  At this point the lighthouse was a Coast Guard facility.  Little, if any, of the furniture is original.  Keepers provided their own furniture, and took it with them when they left.  The displays are done with a pleasantly cluttered and "retro" touch.

The living room looks like the kids just went out to play.

The keeper's kitchen had lots to look at, including a
roll of early plastic food wrap.

My next stop was the tower.  For someone like me — one genuinely uneasy about heights, who finds even a six-foot ladder somewhat intimidating — climbing a 65-foot tower on see-through, wrought iron spiral stairs is not my favorite way to spend a morning.  But I decided it had to be done, or my photos of this facility would lack perspective!  So up I went, slowly, questioning my sanity with each step.

The view from the tower is wonderful.  To the northeast you can see the Canadian shoreline across the bay, and to the west is Salt Point, with Whitefish Point out of view beyond.  On Friday the weather was perfect and Whitefish Bay was calm and inviting.  In reality, this is one of the most dangerous places on the Great Lakes.  Of the 6,000 ships known to have been lost on the lakes, well over 300 went down along this stretch of shoreline.

Up, up, up.

Looking northeast toward the Canadian shore.

The view to the west includes the tower's shadow.

What goes up must go down.  After admiring the view I descended through the little access hole, slowly backing down the stairs to the first landing.  At that point I could turn around and proceed, slowly, hanging onto the handrail, to ground level.  This was the first of several climbs during this trip, each memorable (or terrifying) in its own special way.

See-through circular stairs are a real challenge!

I assume that keepers had no fear of heights.  Or they got used to it.  In the early days, before the arrival of electrical service, a keeper had to climb his or her tower every couple hours, lugging a heavy can of oil, to replenish the fuel and make sure the rotational mechanism was in good working order.  They did this every night of the shipping season, in fair weather and foul, in sickness or in health.  And if  keeper was too ill to function, his or her spouse or children did the work.

The museum at Point Iroquois is small but nicely laid out and informative.  One section describes the basics of a lighthouse — light, lens, and tower.  More complicated is the Fresnel Lens which used glass prisms to focus the light into a powerful beam.  In 1963 this tower's Fourth Order Fresnel Lens was sent off the The Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., where no doubt it is now sitting in a box next to the Lost Ark.  The lens on display at Point Iroquois is from another lighthouse.

The lens display is well done.

The photo above shows keeper kids and friends at
the school on the lighthouse grounds.

Pictured above is Elmer Byrnes, Point Iroquois' keeper.
He left here to serve at Presque Isle's New Lighthouse,
and his wax effigy greets visitors to the 1905 House museum.

The information on the keeper's profession was also interesting.  This was not work for social butterflies.  Performance standards were demanding, since lives depended on keepers doing their jobs with reliability and precision.  And there was a certain dignity which had to be maintained as a federal official.  The uniforms conveyed this.

I should note that today is October 1st.  This morning the U.S. Government shut down due to the standoff between Congress and the President.  It's likely that quite a few people traveling in the U.P. and anxious to see Point Iroquois Light Station will be turned away because the federal government is parked at the side of the road. •••