“In the summer of 1964, Jay returned from a year-long assignment at the Coast Guard LORAN (Long Range Aids to Navigation) Station at Port Clarence, Alaska located between Nome and Point Barrow. Since it was considered to be just about the very worst duty station in the entire Coast Guard (Jay agreed) he was given his first choice of new assignments. At this point you must remember Jay was only 21 and by definition “young and dumb”. Did he request Hawaii or some warm and sunny place on the mainland? No! He wanted to be near his parents, who lived in Greenville, Ohio so he asked for a shore station near them in Michigan. Now Jay was never considered a stellar student and Geography was definitely not his best subject in school. When asking for the Michigan station he didn’t know that Hancock was in the Upper Peninsula. In fact, he thought that part of the world was Canada and was totally surprised when he learned of his error. His wife at the time, Jo, did not speak to him for quite some time. However, the die was cast so off they went to live in the Keweenaw Peninsula, the most northern part of Michigan. That year it started snowing in September – Jay had really had his fill of the white stuff in Alaska and shoveling snow three times a day so he could get the car out of the garage and go to work was not fun – until he discovered skiing!!! All of you who know Jay very well know that he firmly believes there are only four things that are really worth doing and they all start with the letter “S”; skiing, sailing, scuba diving and s___. Jay’s 18 months in that part of the world was some of the most memorable times he spent in his Coast Guard career. Naturally, when he and Chris were thinking of a cool place to spend the summer and photograph, the shore of Lake Superior sounded like a good plan. As you can tell from the last few blogs it was and Hancock didn’t disappoint.”
As Chris and Jay entered the areas familiar to him, they detoured to the Indianhead and Powderhorn ski areas where he first learned to ski and which made life in such a cold, snowy land tolerable. Other than a few new buildings and some new chairlifts, not much had changed. The wildflower laden meadows of the ski slopes looked like colorful ribbons cascading down the mountains amidst thick, dark green timbers. All was silent except for the signs, suspended from weathered metal rods, creaking their resistance against the persistent, mountain-top winds. The buildings seemed abandoned but, they were just locked against vandals’ mischievous deeds until the winter storms blew in and energized the slopes with throngs of snow-lovers.
Further north they passed through Hancock where Jay’s electronics shop had been located in a battered garage the Coast Guard had rented before the construction of a new facility at the Station on the west side of the peninsula. He recognized a restaurant/bar that he and Jo had frequented. But, after more than 40 years, there wasn’t much else that was familiar. (since his home was in Laurium a 10 mile drive north.)
The McLain State Park where they were to stay for the next two weeks was about 10 miles outside of Hancock and the campground area was situated on a low bluff overlooking Lake Superior (and a perfect view of the sunset.) Below the bluff was a clean, sandy beach that stretched for miles around a shallow cove and frequently spaced along the grassy top edge were well-kept, painted, one-piece, wooden seating units consisting of a central tabletop flanked by two Adirondack style chairs. They were popular assets and one had to stake their claim early in the evening to have a front row seat at sunset (which, due to their location at the western edge of the Central time zone, didn’t occur until nearly 10 p.m.)
This was the first Michigan State Park Chris and Jay had stayed in and they discovered that only electric hookups were provided at the campsite. There was a drive-through area where they filled Sonny’s 66 gallon water tank and hoped it would last the two weeks of their stay. Thus, much to their dismay, they were relegated to using the campground showers and water used in the camper for flushing, cooking, and washing dishes was kept to a bare minimum – think dribble. Thankfully the showers were spacious, clean, usually vacant and never ran out of hot water. Ahhh, the simple things in life that afford such pleasure.
After settling into their campsite, Jay was curious about the location of the Coast Guard Station where he had served. A trip to the park office and a conversation with one of the young men in attendance revealed that, although no longer in service, it was within walking distance; just west of the park’s property line on the canal. Several hours of daylight were left so Chris and Jay set off down a wooded trail to find it. The trail left the woods and opened onto a view of the canal. They passed a fenced enclosure which protected a tall, communications tower, which Jay suspected was currently used by the Coast Guard. They continued through another wooded area where they startled a peacefully grazing doe who made a terrific racket as she bounded out of sight. Then they saw it - just ahead in a clearing: The unmistakable, simple, white buildings with red roofs of a mid-20th century Coast Guard Shore Station. The windows were covered with plywood and overspray from a recent paint job splayed onto the red shingles in a broad, right angle where the windows rose above the roof. Jay was beside himself as he strode through the knee-high grasses and wildflowers to the buildings. He located the electronics shop where he worked while Chris took some snapshots of the area. They descended the still sturdy, metal staircase at the back of the boathouse and walked its length to the water. Aside from a hole in one of the large, work-bay doors, presumably from vandals, the buildings and grounds overall were in very good condition. Jay told Chris some stories of his time there; who he liked, who he didn’t and why. It was evident that even after serving over 24 years, 16 of which he flew helicopters, his time in the Coast Guard was very dear to him and his career too short.
The abandoned Coast Guard Station at dusk.
Jay in front of the Electronic Repair Shop where he used to work.
Although some may think that Jay and Chris are on perpetual vacation this is not the case. Bills need to be paid, groceries and other necessities need to be bought, the RV requires cleaning and countless other duties that one would normally do at home need attention. The first day at a new location is usually spent catching up on e-mails, finances and miscellaneous paperwork which is what they did. Their reward was to garner a lake-side chair, relax and enjoy the entertainment of fellow campers on the beach while basking in the warmth of the setting sun.
Jay pointed out a big splash several hundred feet offshore and remarked that it had to have been caused by a huge fish. A short time later Chris noticed another splash. They began to think it a strange phenomenon and sought an alternative cause. It was then that they noticed several boys, estimated ages from 10 to 18, with golf clubs and a large sack of balls below them on the beach. Three of the older boys were lined up at the water’s edge and were hitting the golf balls into the lake – causing a great splash of water where the ball landed! One boy was quite good and he was hitting balls the farthest making the biggest splash that Jay had first noticed. The balls other boys hit fell short in quality, sometimes skipping across the water like a flat rock or just barely becoming airborne for a few feet before plunging to the bottom. When they were out of balls they all piled into a 12’, flat-bottomed, aluminum boat and, standing upright, paddled out to gather them. The water was crystal clear and once a sighting was made one or more of them would jump overboard to retrieve the ball. This was done repeatedly by the younger boys while the taller, older boys would wade, chest-deep, through the area using their feet to feel for the balls, then dive down to pick them up. All-in-all, it was quite an unusual form of evening entertainment.
Some of the boys retrieving the balls.
It was probably a good thing that the days were so long as it gave Chris an opportunity to see the sights and to photograph the sunsets at the McLain State Park beach. A little south of the sandy campground beach was a point of land where the sand turned to smooth, rounded, softball sized rocks. Further into the water, larger rocks of various sizes and shapes showed themselves and made interesting foreground elements for Chris’ photos. Cloud formations permitting, she spent several nights at the point capturing sunsets using a variety of techniques to create different effects. Now the hard part – editing them down to the best ones to keep and market.
A sunset at the mouth of the canal near the park.
