Sail Far Live Free

“No lake master can recall in all his experience a storm of such unprecedented violence with such rapid changes in the direction of the wind and waves and its gusts of such fearful speed!  Storms ordinarily of that velocity do not last over four or five hours, but this storm raged for sixteen hours continuously at an average velocity of sixty miles per hour, with frequent spurts of seventy and over.”  ( From the Lake Carriers Association Report of 1914)      I’ve always been interested in Great Lakes shipwrecks and am a sucker for nautical lore, so it’s no surprise that I’m inspired to write about such things at least a couple of times per year here at SailFarLiveFree.com. [See the end of this post to find my previous shipwreck ramblings]. This week happens to mark the 100 th anniversary of an event that added many chapters to the maritime history of the Great Lakes, which is an even more fitting reason for this particular post.  Imagine 35-foot waves, whiteout blizzard co

"The annals of this voracious beach! Who could write them, unless it were a shipwrecked sailor? How many who have seen it only in the midst of danger and distress, the last strip of earth which their mortal eyes beheld." -Henry David Thoreau from Cape Cod , 1865 As much as I look forward to future sailing adventures and use planning them as a means of mentally surviving the long Great Lakes winter, I also use the offseason to slow down and savor the rich history of my home waters. Part of that rich history is now protected by the West Michigan Underwater Preserve . We often look astern to see where we've sailed, look forward to see what's ahead of the bow, and look aloft to check the sky, sails, or wind indicator. But how often do we look below the water's surface? Do you ever think about the history that you're literally sailing right over the top of? I do, and I have to admit, sometimes it's spooky. The West Michigan Underwater Preserve (WMUP) beg