The Beaver
Beaver moonlights in showbusiness
Photo Gallery

The Beaver

The story of a remarkable boat, told by the men who crewed her.

By Captain Sam Reid – March 23, 1993

When it was decided to go ahead with the construction of a fully equipped conference facility at Mission Point that could accommodate 1000 people, the need to acquire our own barge to transport all of the building materials to the island became obvious. The search for a barge led us to a marine construction company in Sault Ste Marie and they had what we were looking for. It was a self propelled barge called the Beaver. We rented it at first and then purchased it. Over the next 14 years it met our needs not only during the construction of the buildings but for transporting the needed supplies for the many conferences held there and later for Mackinac College. I was involved with the Beaver from its first acquisition in 1955 and would like to share with you what I remember about that amazing experience.

The Beaver was 65 feet long by 30 feet. All loads were carried on a flat deck. It was powered by a 200 HP 6 cylinder GM diesel with 3-1 reduction to the propeller. A Cummins diesel engine was fitted later. There was a heavy-duty 220-110 volts AC diesel generator. It had a cabin at the stern and a wheelhouse above it, and it was all steel construction. The hull was divided into eight compartments below deck.

The operation of the Beaver grew from very difficult beginnings. On the island we had to make a dock. First of all, a pier was constructed of cribs filled with rocks. The water was not deep enough for the Beaver to reach land, but with proper dredging later on and pilings driven, a deep enough dock was finally constructed. Until then, the entrance was not deep enough to get in with a heavy load of gravel so occasionally we had to wait until a long ore boat passed. They caused a huge wave in front of them and as it reached our dock it would lift the water level so that, in the few moments available, we got right into our proper berth!

About the second year that we had the Beaver, we were asked if we could help the Edison Sault Power Company repair the electric power cable to the Island. It was a very interesting time lifting the cable. A full team of Edison Sault men were on board - Frank Glashaw, the manager from St. Ignace, men from the Island Edison Sault, and John Bloswick, who later became the manager at the Island. Ray O'Brien, who was head of maintenance for the Arnold Line, was engaged to help with the mechanical side.

When the cable was brought up from the bottom, it was passed over the deck running on wheels. As the Beaver moved ahead, breaks in the cable were exposed. There were too many breaks to repair and the Island finally had to depend on local diesel generators for power that winter. It was right at the end of the season and the ice was forming when it was decided by the Edison Soo people to stop the work.

By that time we could not get back to the Island because of ice, so we had to winter the Beaver at one of the big piers in St. Ignace. Since we were still renting the Beaver at that time, the creditors of the company who owned it were nervous that it would not be available for sale. So, a Marshal posted a "Don't remove" notice on the wheelhouse while it was wintering at the pier. We interviewed the authorities involved and it was released to us for safekeeping. Later, when the company was being dissolved, we bought the Beaver. When the spring break-up came, the Beaver was still stuck fast in the ice at the pier in St. Ignace. Mr. Bell of Bell's Fishery came and cut the thick ice with a power saw and freed the Beaver.

Many and varied were the loads carried on the Beaver. Everything for the conference centre buildings at Mission Point came over on the Beaver--everything except the water for the cement, as I have often told people. It is amazing when you think of what goes into the construction of a large building. In addition to the walls, roofing, shingles, gutters, a multitude of windows, glass and many other items, there were also furnishings for the inside including carpeting, beds, linen and much furniture. There was a vast amount of miscellaneous things such as decorations and drapes, plus everything needed for living. And in addition to the building materials and furnishings, the Beaver hauled all of the food supplies necessary for large conferences. This added up to many loads of everything imaginable to be transported to an island. Navigation was quite difficult in bad weather because the Beaver had no keel surface and therefore would not run straight without being steered all the time. The weather conditions were always an issue when we were at our exposed docks as well as during the trips on the lake. Everything was carried on deck because it was a deck-loading vessel only. We were always exposed to the elements and everything had to be secured in rough weather.

On the island during easterly gales we had to secure the Beaver by pulling her away from the dock. We did this with two cables attached to the other side of the dock, with big tires acting as a spring. We had to watch the weather and, every day at eight AM, we listened to the marine weather forecast. Eli Bager, who did much of the captaining, and I spent a lot of time at the dock looking after her during these times because it took many ropes to hold her. We slept onboard when we were away at other docks. The bedclothes sometimes froze to the cabin wall before we got a proper water heater with radiators throughout, including inside the wheelhouse. Jim McGreevy's men did a great job doing that, for which we were most grateful. It was necessary to cook onboard because we were away so much. Eli was a good cook.

At the beginning, when a railroad car of lumber arrived in St Ignace, we loaded it in stacks directly on the deck. The 40 tons of lumber involved took a lot of manpower and time loading and unloading. We changed to loading it directly onto drays and trucks which could be either wheeled or driven on and off the Beaver.

For most of the other kinds of material arriving in St. Ignace, Doug Carmean, our warehouseman there, would put everything on pallets. He loaded them on the Beaver with a forklift, putting rows of pallets on each side of the deck to keep it balanced. When heavy trucks came on, the first one caused a colossal list. We had steel ramps arranged, after considerable experimenting with wooden ones. We also chained the bow of the Beaver to the dock so that when trucks or the forklift came on, it stayed level instead of the bow going down with the weight. That necessitated making special clamps which would be released under pressure when the loads were on. At Mackinac Island we made a permanent crane to lift up and lower the ramps onto the front edge of the deck as they were very heavy. 

We often had to unload material from railway cars in St. Ignace and Mackinaw City at night under artificial light supplied from the Beaver's generator. It had a large capacity and could supply plenty of electricity. Many trips were made at night because the railway cars had to be unloaded within a certain time. Also we needed to keep up with the demand for supplies on the construction site. The Beaver was a comparatively small vessel for such a large job.

To get the sand and gravel needed for making concrete, we went to US Steel’s Dolomite Quarry, near Cedarville. Their big elevators were accustomed to loading 20,000 tons of sand or gravel at a time onto the big ships. So when we came for about 40 tons, the Beaver was in danger of being swamped. The men operating the elevators had to mark the belt and give us only so many feet!! One time when we got sand, there were 100 tons on board and the Beaver had only about one foot freeboard at the bow. However, sand was a safe enough load as it just washed overboard at those times when we ran into bad weather on our way back. We also engaged a scow to haul extra sand and gravel as it was needed in such large quantities

All the long trips to the Dolomite quarry for sand and gravel were made at night. Navigating around certain buoys that marked the entrance, which was at right angles, had to be accurate and all done by the lights on the buoys, which were dim. In thick weather it was something else. One time, when we were overtaken by fog, we spoke on our radio to the Coast Guard cutter which was in the vicinity. They told us by their radar that we were 1/10 of a mile from the shore and to head due east and they would shine their searchlight up in the air. Soon we saw it and we followed them near to the loading pier.

We carried all the cement blocks and bricks for the buildings from Cheboygan on pallets. In bad weather the pounding was so hard that some of the bricks would fall off the pallets onto the deck. We got all of the cement for concrete and masonry work from McRae Lumber at Mackinaw City.

We often carried big semis and trucks. When the drivers arrived at St. Ignace, and found that they had to back their rigs onto a boat and go across water, they were quite taken aback. We had to convince them that it was routine with us. Large cranes, bulldozers, front-end loaders, forklifts, etc. were transported to and from the Island. One time we loaded a huge Bechtel crane at Mackinaw City. This was very difficult because we did not have proper chains or ramps for driving on such a heavy piece of equipment. We just made it, as the chains broke while the last wheels got on board.

The Beaver - bow on. The sloping hull could ride up on ice, then break through, as an icebreaker does.One time, just before the freeze-up, the big game hunters were on Bois Blanc Island. Because the ice came early, they could not get off the island as they had come, one car at a time, on the small ferry. We were asked if we could come right away, before the ice was too thick, as otherwise all the cars might have to be left on the island for the winter. We set off one Sunday and, in the afternoon, took the 11 cars in one load, packed as tightly as possible on the deck, and unloaded them at Cheboygan. The Beaver could cut through six inches of clear ice because the bow was so sloping. We did not charge for doing these trips and took onto the Island things like the ambulance and a glass truck for the Grand Hotel at a time when the Arnold Line was not equipped with a vessel to carry these types of loads. Everything which went on the roads on the Island had to have a special permit, because no vehicles were allowed on the roads.

There was also the time a young deer swam across from Bois Blanc Island to the Island. It would not last long on the Island so we took it kindly, we thought, over on the Beaver back to Bois Blanc. We put it over the side close to land but it just swam back again to Mackinac!!

Once, when the Olympic rowers Rusty Wailes and John Sayre had to get their furniture to St. Ignace, its harbor was full of ice. So we had to off-load it all onto the ice in a bay north of St. Ignace. We held the Beaver tight up to the ice with an anchor in the ice and the engine idling ahead while we unloaded the furniture. It all had to be loaded into a small aluminium boat which we then skidded along on the smooth ice for quite a distance to get it to the shore. Doug Carmean came with the forklift and loaded it onto a truck.

A crippled plane hauled off the ice by a team of horsesDuring the winter, small planes were used to ferry back and forth to the island those construction workers who lived on the mainland so they could get home on weekends. One of these crashed on the ice runway on the beach during takeoff but luckily no one was hurt. After taking the wings off the plane we took it on the Beaver to Mackinaw City on the very last trip of the season before the freeze-up.

Beaver - preparing to replace the propeller shaft. Note the wheels on the railway bogeys - two are visible here on each side. Front and back bogeys each had eight wheels.Regarding alterations to the Beaver, when we first got it there was a complicated arrangement opening and shutting the water cooling to the generator engine to keep the cooling water from getting into the cylinders. We altered that even before we owned it. The owners were very pleased as it had always caused difficulty. We strengthened the decks by putting many more angle iron stanchions from the ribs to under the deck. The bow was strengthened by putting extra ribs in. We fitted a new propeller shaft and bearing. Ray O'Brien brought the heavy propeller shaft over on the ice bridge on his motor sled. It was 14 feet long, 3 ¼” in diameter so it weighed a lot.

Propeller shaft replaced, propeller and rudder re-installed, ready to go! The skeg projects below the hull to support the Propeller shaft.In the early days, after the dock had been established, we made a marine railway because there was no place to pull the Beaver up to do repairs on it. All of the other available marine railways were too close to their docks to accommodate the width of the Beaver. The railway had to be constructed as low as possible because of the shallow depth of our water. Wheels were cast in Bay City and we made two bogeys into one unit and joined them together by a pole. When spaced out they formed a 16-wheel cradle so that it would conform to the curve of the rails which we got somewhere in St. Ignace.

The cradle was adaptable. This was most convenient as we could pull up any of our boats and repair them. We eventually had six different types of boats. Before we had the railway, we took the Beaver to Drummond Island to the big stone quarry there, and a big crane lifted the stem up. This was when the skeg [See photo above] needed repairing, which we had to do from a small boat. We took Jack Welcher with us to weld and started the strengthening of the hull then. We were away for a few days and lived ashore. Harold Welch and Ron Cowell did much of the welding on parts and made alterations, such as a totally new water intake. They fixed it so that ice would not choke the intake.

Much other mechanical work was done to the Beaver to make it suitable for the work it had to do. Cyril Beal and his electrical crew rewired it. Instead of one light in the engine room, we now had several lights properly placed, plus new running lights. Proper regulation marine glass was installed wherever required to protect lights, and switches were covered.

The Beaver was also altered to comply with Coast Guard regulations as a tanker so that we could carry oil to fill the large tanks for the year's supply. This was done by placing on the deck, with a crane, two 4000-gallon tanks, and by running many trips between the oil company in Mackinaw City and the Island.

Andy MacFarlane's men painted the whole inside, which brightened up everything. They used rust preventive paint inside the hull compartments. We then fitted the radio with a loop and later added radar and a depth sounder. Many people helped, at no charge, to do the jobs we needed. A heraldry designer from Canada, working from a small boat, painted the name Beaver on the bows and stem after we had painted her outside. He did it in no time, free-hand and beautifully, which is so difficult for a layman to do and not possible to do neatly.

Our crew was often made up of people from many countries who were attending the conferences or who stayed on to work with us. All the time we operated the Beaver, the crew worked without salary. During the big construction years we usually had two crews so that we could keep the Beaver operating day and night. Over the years the captains were: Eli Bager, Dick Sherman, Charlie Brown, Harry Almond, Fred Shipley, Dave Campbell, Bill McLaughry, Frank Bloswick and Sam Reid.

There were many interesting experiences operating in the ice. Because the bottom of the Beaver was so flat, a lot of ice went through the propeller. The big pieces nearly stalled the engine and caused much jerking of the engine, which finally broke the drive shaft of the blower of the 2-stroke GM engine. One time when this happened, the Wawatam, a huge railway ferry, towed the Beaver alongside to its dock. Harry Almond was captain that day, and I was there to meet the Beaver with a new shaft. The stream from the Wawatam pushed the Beaver away out again so I got down on the ice and ran out along the ice edge. They threw me a rope and I was then able to pull her back to the end of the dock so that we could fit a new shaft, which was quite easy.

The Beaver leaving St. Ignace with a load of steelAnother time, the gearbox broke when the Beaver was a mile or so away from the Island. I happened to be on the island that time and got a long boat hook, held it crosswise, walked out on the ice and got onboard. It would not go in reverse so Harry, by nosing into the ice, got it turned around so that we got back to the Island where we could repair the hydraulic gearbox. Another time it broke on our way to St. Ignace at night in thick ice. We had to lie over there for a couple of days while I dismantled it and totally rebuilt it, which was always a lot of work.

The winter of 1959-60, when the film studio was being built, we had to wait at St. Ignace for a load of steel which was badly needed. That year, when the ice was forming, Harry Almond made a daily run to St. Ignace to keep a channel open. This made it possible to run much later in the season than usual – right until February 1st. Finally the load of steel arrived but it looked like the ice was much too heavy for us. I went up in a small local plane to take a look. There was often a pressure crack in the ice north of the route to the Island but I had never seen it open up. From the air I could see a slight crack in it, but I was not hopeful. We were able to set off from our dock as the ice in that part of the harbour had been broken up by the “Wawatam” because it turned around there every day. We found the crack had opened and we went right down it all the way to the Island. It was just like going in a narrow river. Windrowed ice could stop the Beaver. Once, when it had gone up on the ice, I got out on the ice with an anchor, which was attached by a cable to a winch at the stern of the Beaver. I placed the anchor at a spot in the ice where it would hold and we were able to winch the Beaver back off the ice. Chopping the ice alongside with heavy timbers would sometimes free her, but that did not work this time.

Then there was the day we had a most interesting experience with hailstones. A hailstorm was passing over and there were exceptionally large hailstones coming down, the size of golf balls. On the island, they broke all the glass in the roof of Alan Sawyer's greenhouse and went right through the fabric wings of Jim Francis's airplane. We were halfway from St. Ignace when hail started to fall. Hailstones hitting the water made the water jump up like a cornfield about four feet high. I was out on deck at the time so I ducked under the big propane gas truck which we had on board that day, and then put my hands over my head and ran for the wheelhouse.

When one considers that all the concrete blocks and everything for the Mission Point buildings were brought over on the comparatively small Beaver, it makes one realize how many trips had to be made, day and night, to get all the stuff across, often in poor weather. Harry Almond recently sent me some notes from the log which he kept when he was Captain of the Beaver. It covered the time when we were bringing construction materials on the Beaver for building the Studio. His log recorded that from September 23, 1959 to February 1, 1960, in 118 days of operation, the Beaver made 261 trips and hauled the following quantities of materials:

25 railway carloads of steel (602 tons)
15 railway carloads of cement
10 railway carloads of gypsum
2 railway carloads of lumber
4 railway carloads of Carrier air conditioning equipment
6,200 tons of aggregate
102,185 cement blocks

This is just a sample of the work done by the Beaver during its fourteen years of service.

The Beaver backing out of the island dock, into the ice, with empty trucks on boardAll of us who worked on the Beaver have a lasting affection for a craft that was so unusual in design and provided comfort under freezing conditions, particularly after we had installed adequate heating. That was a necessity. The Beaver was equipped with limited cooking facilities, which we greatly appreciated because we often spent nights on board. With its outstanding versatility in the different types of loads that it was able to carry, which often seemed totally beyond its capacity, it was assumed by many that we could bring over anything that was needed. This was almost true.

Sam Reid
1648 Cypress Drive
Fort Myers, Florida 3390
The Beaver in Ice
By Captain Frank Bloswick, of Mackinac Island.

(Note: On this occasion Frank Bloswick was captain of the Beaver and Sam Reid was captain of the tug the “Captain George”. The incident is an illustration of how difficult it could be to negotiate ice, particularly in the face of darkness and poor weather.)

It was spring and it was a foggy day, the weather was rather mild, and we had a lot of ice in the South Channel. I was making trips with the Beaver. It was about 4 o'clock when we left St. Ignace. Sam Reid and his crew were following me with the tugboat, the “Captain George”. Since the tugboat was not equipped with radar the Beaver, which was, took the lead.

I remember that the crew on the tug that day was Sam Reid as captain, my dad John was the engineer and Bill McLaughry was the deckhand. It was obvious that the ice floe had now moved in against the Island, and we were going to have a tough time with the fog and darkness that was settling in.

We were left to use the radar and searchlight to pick our way through the ice. There was just no way we were going to find open water. The whole winter's accumulation could be up to 24" thick, and it would be a tough trip under these conditions navigating through the ice. We were making some progress but it was painfully slow. We were backing and manoeuvring and often changing course, while trying to go around floes of ice.

About half a mile from the island lighthouse I was backing the Beaver to make another run at the ice when suddenly in the aft end there was a loud banging noise. I turned the wheel over to my deckhand and went down to investigate. I found that the quadrant had come right off the rudder post, and there was no way to steer the boat. It looked to be an impossible job to hook up any emergency steering. I radioed to Sam Reid in the tugboat telling him that I had damage to my rudder. He seemed to take it all in stride, and told me that they would come alongside and put a line on to tow me in.

Since the tugboat did not have radar, I would have to point out the direction, which I got from my radar, by using the beam of my searchlight. The tugboat started pulling me through the ice but I never went in a straight line because of the heavy chunks of ice. I would suddenly run up against the tugboat as I came out of the ice, and we were stopped. I could see that Bill McLaughry was having a very tough time pulling in the line that would accumulate to keep it from fouling the propeller. I would constantly have to realign the searchlight to show the direction for the tugboat to take.

We were making very little progress. Then, very suddenly, as I was looking at my radar with the searchlight on the lighthouse, I felt a motion and the wind coming up from the west. Within five minutes the atmosphere was clear, the fog gone, and we could see where we were. We were being carried very swiftly with the ice, which was moving straight down through the passage between the lighthouse and the end of the breakwater. We were going not of our own accord but the ice was bearing us right through the channel.

After passing the breakwater Sam turned the tug right into the harbor to keep us from being carried past the east breakwater. Otherwise we would never have got back. The tug pulled us for all it was worth and safely got us out of the drifting ice which had aided us so much. The tug pulled us across a huge piece of ice about 100 feet wide and broke it in two. Then there was much more work for Bill pulling in the line again (which was a large tow rope, icy from being in the water) to shorten it up in order to get the Beaver close to its dock. We wondered how we had managed it. It sure was a good wind!

Back to top

BEAVER MOONLIGHTS IN SHOW BUSINESS

By Captain Bill McLaughry

During the summer of 1965, the hard working Beaver suddenly became a celebrity, complete with music, lights and fresh, bright paint. The second summer of a "Conference for Tomorrow's America" was in full swing at Mackinac. Hundreds of high school and college students from many states had decided to develop an agenda to answer the negative, divisive voices, then so fashionable and strident, with a new voice of hope and commitment to the best that their country stood for. 

These students already knew the contagious power of music, and had written many new songs to carry their message. But they needed a "vehicle" to connect them with their audience. Realizing that many towns in northern Michigan are little ports with little harbors, somebody struck on a brilliant notion. With some lumber, lights, paint and stove pipe, a crew of eager young builders soon transformed the plain, workaday Beaver into "Showboat America”, complete with two stages, lights and sound system - a very convincing replica of the great old Mississippi steam-wheelers.

The stovepipe became two tall "smokestacks”, white picket railing surrounded two levels of deck, and, at the stern, a huge paddle wheel was attached. Painted fire-engine red, the wheel was eight feet in diameter and sixteen feet long, attached from its axle to the stern of the Beaver on huge hinges so it could be raised and lowered by block-and-tackle systems. The color scheme was completed by the Beaver's bright blue hull, creating a very patriotic picture indeed.

A few rehearsals were necessary to acquaint the performers with their new setting. Meanwhile, arrangements were made at several picturesque port towns, and publicity began appearing to draw audiences. The result was a series of explosive evenings of song, joy and excitement that lit up the summer nights in north country towns like Charlevoix, Petoskey, Mackinaw City, St. Ignace and Sault Ste. Marie - events that kept residents and visitors talking and recalling for months afterward.

There wasn't room on the Beaver to transport the whole cast to each show. They were carried by ferry and buses, after watching the Beaver’s departure from its Mackinac Island dock with horns blaring and pennants flapping. It had its normal crew of three plus several stage technicians to complete final adjustments. Upon nearing the entrance to the evening's port, the Beaver was stopped so that the paddle wheel could be lowered. With its bottom paddles just submerged, it caught the propeller wash of Beaver's actual propulsion system, turning majestically, throwing spray and looking, for all the world, as if it were doing all the work. People were constantly asking me after the show, "Does that paddle wheel actually push the boat? It looks so real.”

Upon arrival, Beaver's square bow was securely moored to a dock or harbor bulkhead, and the stage crew scurried to erect lights and sound equipment at each side. The audience would take seats on the dock or on surrounding park grass, or moor their own boats near enough to see and hear. No admission was charged, but some cast members circulated through the audience during intermission with baskets for contributions to cover our expenses. Of course, the spectators on private boats were out of reach!

One particular evening was especially memorable for the disaster that very nearly happened. The fabulous Trinidad & Tobago steel drum band was a central feature of the show, and for extra visibility they played on the second deck, part of the temporary superstructure that looked so real. Unfortunately, when those guys got wound up in their great rhythms, they swayed in perfect unison from side to side with the music. Quickly, the stage hands saw that the structure was picking up the sway and needed help fast, before the drummers and their drums ended up in the harbor. While the band took an unscheduled break, the crew spiked some extra planks into place for bracing, and the show went on. Subsequent programs called for the band to perform on the main stage, on the Beaver's solid steel deck!

We of the Beaver's regular crew, who operated it as the workhorse supply boat as well as in its evening finery, always liked to get into the act on these occasions. As captain, I found an old naval officer's uniform in the costume trunk, and tried to come across as an old time Mississippi skipper.

One of my deckhands was particularly creative, and I cherish the memory of him as a youth, as I proudly watch his present career and national prominence unfold. He is Michael Parfit - author, writer, editor and explorer - whose powerful words and stunning images have graced the pages of National Geographic, Field & Stream, Smithsonian and the Wall Street Journal. His books have transported us to the ends of Antarctica and to the throbbing heart of America. As a teenage deckhand on "Showboat America”, Mike was Huck Finn, with straw hat, checked shirt, ragged bib overalls and bare feet, with expert fingers wrapped around a working fishing pole. Mike was and is a genuine outdoorsman. When we had to moor the Beaver overnight after a show, so we could make a safer return trip in daylight, Mike was on deck at first light with that pole and a can of worms and caught breakfast for the whole crew. I never think of Mike without recalling the overalls, the fish and the infectious grin.

That summer of '65, the Beaver was the stage for a new adventure in theater of the heart. It made possible some excellent experience in public performance for those young men and women. That fall, calling themselves "Sing-Out ‘65”, they hit the road: the first cast on the first tour of the first production of Up With People.

Back to top

Photo Gallery

Pictures of the Boats of Mission Point  

Beaver being unloaded at the island in 1956, before the dock was finished.

Beaver being unloaded at the island. Note the lifeboat. There is no radar dome on the wheel house so this is before radar was installed.

The Beaver carrying 3 - 8,000 gallon tanks of fuel oil – 24,000 gallons total. This picture is at the Beaver dock on the island. Note ice on the railings at the stern and snow on the ground.

Note also the radar dome on the roof of the wheelhouse – the Beaver was getting modern!

There are 3 hoses, one on each tank. The load was pumped to a “tank farm” that supplied fuel oil for heating at Mission Point during the winter.

The Beaver – A different perspective on 24,000 gallons of fuel oil. This is an earlier photo, as evidenced by the lack of a radar dome.

The beaver dock behind Mapleview House. The steel ramps have not yet been installed. The crane has a clam-shell bucket (resting on the ground) and may have been in the process of dredging the harbor for the Beaver.

The beaver dock behind Mapleview House. The steel ramps have not yet been installed. The crane has a clam-shell bucket (resting on the ground) and may have been in the process of dredging the harbor for the Beaver.

Beaver at its winter mooring, 1959. The rudder, in this photo, appears to be narrower at the bottom than at the top. Compare this photo with the one on page 11. That photo clearly shows that the rudder was extended on the bottom for better steering.

By this time the first railings had been installed, made of light pipe and ¼” nylon clothesline. These provided a much greater sense of security for the crew.

The Beaver with a semi-trailer transport aboard. Truck drivers were often wary of doing this! See the story by Sam Reid.

In the foreground is a boat named “Huskie” which was used by the volunteer construction crew for water-skiing. The brass horns on the fore-deck were salvaged from an army surplus truck, cleaned and mounted with an air-brake tank under the fore-deck to supply air pressure.

The streaks of light on the near side hulls of the Huskie and the Beaver are reflections of sunlight off the water.

The Kee Way Din at the Mission Point dock. “Kee Way Din” means Northwest Wind in Ojibway. The 55’ speed launch was used to transport people and light supplies to and from the mainland and Mission Point.

The Kee Way Din leaving Mackinac Island. The deep-V hull provided good stability. The Kee Way Din was a fast boat and always a welcome ride to passengers. This photo was probably taken (based on the passengers) during the Mackinac College years at Mission Point. The Kee Way Din was used – once – for water-skiing in order to shoot a publicity photo for the college. The wake was a challenge to water skiers, though, and the costs were too high to do this regularly!

According to Captain Bill McLaughry: “It was built at a modern boatyard in Louisiana with a design based on the off-shore oil rig supply boats then in great demand, and brought up the Mississippi and Lake Michigan”. “It was a steel hull and aluminum superstructure, giving it a lower center of gravity and better stability. The hull was coated with a special anti-fouling compound which was very effective but could be damaged by the least amount of ice, so the annual haul-out had to be accomplished before the first freeze. It was equipped with radar, two-way marine radio, depth sounder, landing floodlights, and the most beautiful four-tone air horn you ever heard. The engines powered twin propellers separately, with separate forward/reverse clutches. Consequently precise maneuvering in docking areas was very easy. Maximum speed was about 22 knots.”

The photo on the right shows the deck of the Beaver in the foreground. Note the proper heavy duty railings on the sides of the deck.

In the rear is the Kee Way Din pulled up on the marine railway, probably for repairs as it is not the winter off-season.

Below is the worlds largest outboard motor! The propeller was driven by 2 diesel engines and the boat was used to tow the sand scow, according to Sam Reid.