Great Lakes Wreck Diving

By Erica Blake

Deep beneath the choppy surface and enveloped in the depths of the Great Lakes’ frosty water, is a unique look at maritime history. There are pictures in books and displays in museums, but only those who are divers can truly experience what lies beneath.

For years divers have been splashing into the inland seas looking for adventure. Some seek out a well-known wreck, one that they have learned about from other divers before them. Others search the floors for a wreck of their own.

An estimated 6,000 ships litter the silty, mucky floors of the five lakes. While some are nothing more than broken boards, others appear as if they could sail again.

Each has a story to tell.

Our adventure was to see a little bit of it all. And after months of research, planning and forging new contacts, photographer Andy Morrison and I took a tour of the Great Lakes, splashing in each one to delve into its history.

Using charter boat captains recommended by fellow divers, we traveled around the lakes for weekend trips, spending between $55 and $80 on each two-tank dive.

We knew that by choosing one place in each lake, we were only getting a sampling. All five have several hotspots that have attracted both experienced and novice divers for decades.

We also knew that our experiences at each destination could differ wildly if we had chosen another part of the lake, or another day, for that matter.

Many wreck divers forgo the lakes in lieu of treasure hunting in the oceans. But only in the bitter cold water of the Great Lakes are there pristine wooden schooners and sunken barges, intact scuttled ferries and broken-up freighters, all escaping the corrosion of salt water.

And these treasures are protected for future divers to see.

"The Great Lakes are the only places in the world where you can peek into history," explained charter boat captain Mark Kistner, who is president of the State of Michigan’s Council of Underwater Preserves. "The fresh water preserves the wooden ships and the laws protect them as much as possible."

The laws protecting shipwrecks vary in each of the Great Lakes states and Canada. But each holds to a basic principle – keep your hands off.

In the state of Michigan alone, nearly 2,300 square miles of Great Lakes bottomland is protected as a part of the state’s 11 underwater preserves. An additional two, or three, more preserves are under consideration.

The Council of Underwater Preserves is responsible for anchoring buoys to popular dive sites and teaching preservation to visiting divers.

A similar proposal to create underwater preserves in Ohio’s portion of Lake Erie has so far met with opposition. Instead, the Ohio Department of Natural Resources hopes to create a network of "underwater trailways" — virtual routes mapped in brochures and Web pages that would guide divers to historic submerged structures.

Two Canadian groups – Preserve Our Wrecks and Save Ontario Shipwrecks – are dedicated to the preservation and protection of the shipwrecks lying in Canadian waters.

Each demand that visitors look but don’t touch.

"Back in the ‘40s and ‘50s, when diving first started, people would bring up material from the boat because it was fun to do and it was a way to identify the boats. That was part of the telling of the story," said John Polacsek, curator of Marine History for the Dossin Great Lakes Museum in Detroit. "Nowadays, there are a number of laws. Anybody that has bottom lands that may have a shipwreck has some laws in place to protect them."

The Great Lakes offer divers so much today because of the longstanding importance of shipping to development of the Midwest. Since French explorer Robert LaSalle became the first to sail the upper Great Lakes aboard Le Griffon in 1679, these waters have played an important part in North American history, linking America’s heartland with ports and markets throughout the world.

Lake freighters have been the most efficient way of transporting large quantities of goods since the early 19th century. Once weighted down by cargos of lumber, salt, grains and quarried stone, freighters are still used today to carry farm commodities, coal and iron ore across the lakes to other U.S. and Canadian ports.

Some of these cargos can still be found in ships lost for decades below the surface.

Lake Michigan entombs about 24 percent of the Great Lake’s shipwrecks, while lakes Huron and Erie each hold about 23 percent. About 12 percent of ships have come to rest on the floor of Lake Ontario and Lake Superior is the home of another 10 percent. The rest foundered in Lake St. Clair, near Detroit, or rest somewhere unknown.

More than half of these ships were lost in storms, with the months of September, October, November and December taking the most victims.

But while Mother Nature laid claim to many of the ships, the rest fell to the bottom by way of a crash. One of the perils of Great Lakes sailing was that there were no up bound and down bound channels, explained Polacsek, a marine historian. In the early days of shipping, vessels that were both coming and going were all using the same course with the same point of reference.

The lack of adequate lights on boats led to many nighttime collisions, as did the sometimes unsafe speeds of anxious captains, Polacsek said.

"Remember, your boat doesn’t make you any money sitting in the dock," he added. "So the faster you make your trip from point A to point B, the more money you make."

LAKE ERIE

In the smallest in volume of the Great Lakes and the shallowest, we dove in the western basin, an area known as the Erie Quest Preserve.

Located in the Pelee Passage on the Canadian side, just off the shores of Leamington, Ontario, the area is believed to be the resting place of more than 250 ships sunk since the mid-1800s. To date, there are about 50 known locations of shipwreck sites in the passage.

During the lengthy boat rides from the shores of Ohio to the Canadian waters, we were afforded time to research the wrecks. Before leaving land, we keyed the ships into the online database compiled by the Historical Collections of the Great Lakes at Bowling Green State University in Ohio. There we learned about the type of vessel, where it was built and how it met its fate.

Using a depth finder to scan the bottom, we dropped a weight attached to a mooring line near the Willis, the deepest of the Erie Quest wrecks at about 74 feet. The majority of wrecks are at an average depth of 40 feet. Now, thanks to volunteers, many are marked with buoys.

Outfitted in drysuits to shut out the cold, we dropped down mid-ship on the port side of the Willis and followed the rail past deadeyes toward the bowsprit. With visibility so low so as to require the use of a wreck reel, we slowly navigated the wreck. Drifting toward the center, we kicked past a capstan before following the starboard rail toward the stern, seeing the point of collision along the way.

Sunk in a pre-dawn collision with the Elizabeth Jones in November, 1872, the wooden schooner went down on its maiden voyage.

While the Great Lakes can boast excellent visibility, it’s not the Caribbean and so we were each prepared with a good dive light. Fighting limited vis in Lake Erie, we returned to the boat.

LAKE MICHIGAN

A descent into the Straits of Mackinac revealed a much clearer picture. The straits sit between Lake Huron and Lake Michigan, where Michigan’s upper and lower peninsulas are connected by the five-mile Mackinac Bridge. Those sailing the passageway have experienced storms funneling up from the lower lakes, giving the straits a reputation as being a dangerous area for ships.

On the first dive, we descended into the icy waters to a depth of about 115 feet. Throughout the lakes, bottom temperatures range from about 40 degrees to about 55 degrees during the summer months. About half way down on this dive, the 45-degree chill was all but forgotten, replaced by the sight of the Eber Ward, nearly intact. The cold seemed to melt away.

Not all divers on our charter were so lucky. The frosty waters canceled a few dives by causing regulator free flows.

As if the broken boats below weren’t enough, the gear problems reminded us that often the Great Lakes show no mercy.

Sunk on April 20, 1909, the Eber Ward rests in the mud at 143 feet, just west of the bridge. Five lives were lost when ice hulled the 213-foot wooden steamer, sending it to the bottom. The holes are on the bow’s portside.

Also visible are three anchors on the bow, the ship’s steam engine and boiler, as well as a stairway below deck for those with penetration training. Any diver, at any level, can enjoy viewing the white porcelain toilet still attached to the top deck; the only evidence of what was the pilothouse.

LAKE HURON

Also in the Straits of Mackinac is the William Young, which lies upright and intact in about 120 feet of water, just east of the bridge. Only recently discovered, the Young was found accidentally in 2002 while Michigan State Police were searching for a missing person.

The coal that the ship carried can be found in the aft two-thirds of the hull. Anchors, anchor chains, deadeyes and the ship’s wheel – which has been tagged to avoid any thought of looters – offer divers a plethora of history.

With the best intentions of diving our plan, our first drop in another portion of Lake Huron, in the Sanilac Shores Preserve near Port Sanilac on Michigan’s thumb, left us hovering above a smooth surface of sand, with no wreck in sight.

Wrecks are buoyed annually in all five of the lakes by volunteer organizations such as Save Ontario Shipwrecks, Preserve Our Wrecks, and the Michigan Underwater Preserve Council. One had obviously broken free.

Again, the lakes had thrown us a curve. We splashed in again down to the Col. A.B. Williams.

The Williams, sunk in 1864, now lies at about 75 feet and reveals broken plates that have been brought to the top decks by previous divers. But the most pristine artifact from this ship is no longer below Lake Huron’s surface. Even non-divers can take in the ship’s anchor by visiting the grounds of the Sanilac Historical Museum located in the small coastal town.

Further south in the Sanilac Shores Preserve, lies the Regina, a steel freighter constructed in Scotland in 1907. The ship and each of its crew became victims of Mother Nature’s fury in November, 1913 when the Regina sank. The storm, which reported 70 to 90 mph winds and waves of 35 to 45 feet, claimed 13 vessels with all hands lost, eight of those ships succumbed in the waters of Lake Huron. Many more ran aground or were severely damaged. An estimated 250 sailors died during what is known as the "Great Storm of 1913."

The Regina lies almost upside down in about 80 feet of water. Because of the length of the 249-foot vessel, it would take several dives to get even a preliminary look at the ship. The immense propeller and rudder are a main attraction.

LAKE SUPERIOR

The largest and deepest of the lakes, Lake Superior is home to Whitefish Point Preserve, which rests at its eastern most edge. Named the “graveyard of Lake Superior” because of the number of ships that have sunk, Whitefish Point offers mostly deep diving.

Although its most famous resident is the Edmund Fitzgerald – sunk on Nov. 10, 1975 and memorialized forever in a song by Gordon Lightfoot – the preserve is also home to the Vienna, a 191-foot wooden steamer whose heavily damaged bow shows divers how it met its fate in an 1892 collision. Fortunately, no lives were lost.

Underwater, divers can see a chunk of iron ore topped with a wrench resting on the deck. Above water, at the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum in Whitefish Point, visitors can see a wooden eagle salvaged from the ship. Also at the museum is the Fitzgerald’s bell.

But those splashing into Lake Superior are more excited by the bell found near the Sadie Thompson. Discovered by earlier divers, the bell was dragged out to the sand just beyond the wreck. Sunk in the early 1950s, the barge lies nearly upside down at about 115 feet and presents several hazards in the form of broken gears but also offers plenty of interesting machinery.

LAKE ONTARIO

Hundreds of wrecks dot the shorelines and bays around Kingston, Ontario, and its area islands, on the eastern side of the lake. Among them is the George A. Marsh, a wooden schooner bound for Kingston when it foundered in August, 1917. Nine people died.

A tour around the 135-foot three-masted schooner reveals numerous deadeyes. Near the ship’s stern, on the top deck, a collection of artifacts has been gathered by previous divers, including a kettle and an old leather boot. The wheel stands just behind the pile of underwater antiques and at the bow is a chain locker, where rusty links fall into the hull below.

And on the Munson, a dredge that sank in 1890, plates, bottles, tools and a tool bench are easily viewed. The number of artifacts still on board makes it difficult to believe that many were removed and donated to a nearby museum and many others were taken by treasure hunters.

Twenty-five minutes passes quickly on the George T. Davie, a 177-foot composite barge that sank in 1945 while being towed by the tug Salvage Prince. Loaded with more than 1,000 pounds of coal, the Davie fell to the sand on its starboard side, its cargo still visible today. A lifeboat, a large anchor, and the crane are just some of the items divers can view.

The wrecks offer so much. And there are so many more.

But be careful of the thousands of zebra mussels that encase the Kingston shipwrecks. Fingernail-sized shellfish, the mussels are a species native to Asia that was brought to the Great Lakes via ballast water from a transoceanic vessel.  According to the Great Lakes Information Network, the mussels first appeared in Lake St. Clair, near Detroit, but have rapidly spread to all of the Great Lakes and the waterways beyond.

It was while swimming through the lower deck of the Munson in Lake Ontario that I must have brushed against one of the mussel’s razor sharp edges. Although encountering the invasive species in most places we had been, it was while hovering above the dredge that I first felt the icy sensation of Lake Ontario’s 50-degree water creeping along my leg.  It forced us to the surface – a piece of duct tape saved the next dive.

Once again we had encountered the perils of the Great Lakes and it served as a reminder:  We may be comfortable entering the vast blue world underwater. But anything can happen and we will always be visitors.