Destination South Manitou Island

Confessions of a volunteer lighthouse keeper

By Jonathan Schechter

Sun contributor

My first foray onto the shoreline of South Manitou Island as a volunteer lighthouse keeper for Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore became one of my “gladdest moments in life.” It remains so today, and now, after six tours of duty at that historic 1871 lighthouse overlooking the often-stormy Manitou Passage of Lake Michigan, I reflect on how it all came to be and already look forward to next year. And I will share three confessions.

Although I had never worked for the National Park Service, I often embraced nature’s way in the splendor of the mainland of Sleeping Bear Dunes; a dramatic landscape of forests and sand dunes where the rhythm of crashing waves shapes the spectacular shoreline. I’ve hiked and camped there in all seasons. And then seven years ago, just a few weeks after I discovered my semi-retirement naturalist position in Oakland County was about to be “downsized,” I stumbled upon a volunteer position announcement from Matthew Mohrman, the volunteer coordinator for Sleeping Bear Dunes. The Park was in need of a lighthouse keeper for a six-week tour of duty on 5,280-acre South Manitou Island. The post was a tempting portal to enter Sir Richard Burton’s “distant journey into unknown lands.”

“One of the gladdest moments in life, is the departure upon a distant journey into unknown lands,” he said in 1856. “Shaking off with one mighty effort the fetters of habit, the burden of routine, the cloak of many cares and the slavery of home, man feels once more happy.”

With my interest stirred I researched South Manitou and its rich nautical history—chilling tales of tragedies, shipwrecks, hardships and a once thriving village. When the Erie Canal was completed in 1826, the island took on new importance and Crescent Bay, the island’s deep natural harbor, offered refuge from storms for sailing ships and steamers that navigated the Manitou Passage. South Manitou’s strategic location between Chicago and the Straits of Mackinac also made it an ideal location for steamers to take on firewood to fuel their boilers as they navigated Lake Michigan.

I was enticed further by the existence of a grove of giant cedars and sand dunes towering 400 feet above the shoreline. I also learned the first of three lighthouses was built in 1838 to aid the expanding shipping industry. That was followed by establishment of a U.S. Life-Saving Service (USLSS) rescue station at Crescent Bay that was converted into a Ranger Station after the park service acquired the island in the 1970s. When I discovered the USLSS was the predecessor to the U.S. Coast Guard and had the powerful motto of, “You have to go out, but you don’t have to come back,” I knew what I had to do. Go to South Manitou!

There was only one problem and that’s where my first confession is in order: I knew absolutely nothing about lighthouses. I also was not familiar with the Volunteers-In-Parks (VIP) Program, a National Park Service program that allows individuals to play an active role in helping to protect and share our national treasures and support NPS operations. I took a leap of faith and reached out to volunteer coordinator Mohrman after reading everything I could find about the lighthouse and the island. Three months later, I broke my “burden of routine” with the act of stepping from a NPS landing craft onto the old Crescent Bay dock of South Manitou Island. Within minutes of arrival I was smitten by the island, but had butterflies in my stomach looking out at the lighthouse.

After hand-shaking with staff and volunteers, some of whom monitored endangered Piping Plovers that nest on the island, I headed to “my” lighthouse to climb the 117 steps of the spiral iron staircase to the catwalk for the first time. The butterflies quickly vanished. My official role as the Lighthouse Keeper was to share the history of the lighthouse, the Manitou Passage and the island to day visitors and campers. However, as a naturalist by profession, I was always happy to answer wildlife questions and identify plants that visitors inquired about.

Confession Number Two: “Other duties as needed.” I was rapidly involved in all island operations from assisting with ferry arrivals and departures, to helping campers search for the Big Dipper, to checking trail conditions after storms and participation in minor “search” operations when someone wanders off the easy-to-follow designated trails.

However, it’s Confession Number Three that really fuels my island-dreaming passion and adds to my anticipation of returning. The lighthouse is an ideal wildlife watching post. Eastern coyotes cross over from the mainland during a hard freeze of the Manitou Passage, and although not often seen, they do well on the island. One coyote I had come to recognize I referred to as Brother Coyote. We would occasionally arrive at the lighthouse in the early hours of dawn just minutes apart when all was quiet and visitors were not stirring. I would climb the steps to watch sunrise and Brother Coyote would patrol the breakwall for fresh Herring Gull eggs.

I was also excited to occasionally see American White Pelicans perched on the lighthouse breakwall, and was treated to Bald Eagles flying by as well as flocks of Cormorants soaring past the catwalk. American toads thrive on the island and are easy prey for the island’s large eastern hognose snakes. When hognose snakes flattened their heads and hissed in what appeared to be a threatening manner, some island guests expressed fears to me, “Are they venomous?” Each year I explain to visitors that, although their behavior might be frightening, they want nothing to do with humans. “No, they are not venomous,” became one of my most repeated phrases for I quickly discovered that I was the go-to guy for questions on nature’s way, and that added to the pleasure of my casually expanding VIP role.

I am forever grateful that the National Park brought me on board. I contacted Mohrman quite a few years ago when I wrote about the island for a different publication. “Volunteers are integral to the success of park operations at Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. When VIPs agree to share their talents and skills with us, we know they are also offering a very valuable resource—their time,” Mohrman said. “We work to create opportunities that are mutually beneficial to volunteers, and the NPS, in order to achieve our mission. We have some unique VIP positions, like the Volunteer Lighthouse Keeper, and lots of other options too.”

For more information on how to help us preserve and protect this special place, contact him at matthew_mohrman@nps.gov.

FYI: I confess I am already planning on returning to the island in late May of 2024.

Jonathan Schechter is a VIP for Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore and writes nature blogs for Oakland County Michigan Government.