The Historic Manitou Islands

There was once a time when the best way to get from New York to Chicago was by water! A variety of boats plied a system of rivers and canals between New York City and Buffalo on the eastern end of Lake Erie. Travelers then boarded Great Lakes sailing ships for the trip to the new frontier town and points west. In 1832, the first steamboat visited Chicago.

Navigating the treacherous Manitou Passage was worth the risk because of the time saved. South Manitou offered a deep and protected natural harbor which provided refuge from the angry seas of gale winds or sudden storms, and the bountiful supply of wood found on both Islands provided for the voracious appetite of the boilers on early steamships! Thus began the Manitou Islands' human history.

The Story of the Whistle

August Warner was born in Port Oneida in 1884. As a young man, he got a job as a wood chopper on South Manitou Island, and there he met the love of his life, Rosie Haas. As a wedding gift, his parents gave August and Rosie a small farm in Port Oneida overlooking the lake ... and the islands. After farming there for several years, he sold the farm, using the money to buy a motor boat which he named for their first-born, their daughter Lenor, and took Rosie back home. From 1923 on, August carried the mail, on and off, between Glen Haven and South Manitou Island. He was also, on and off, a fisherman, friend of the Coast Guard, Constable, President of the Island's School Board, and was generally depended upon as the Island's link to the mainland. He became known to the outside world as "Captain Warner."

Whenever needed, he could be relied upon to make the crossing to Glen Haven. So long as there was any open water, nothing could deter August and the "Old Lenor" from making the crossing. Mainlanders finding themselves in raging high seas and holding on for dear life, worried that their Captain was wantonly reckless or crazy, and feared they'd never set foot of dry land again. But, much to their relief, they were always landed safely on the shore.

"Captain Warner" was "Grandpa Warner" to me.

After he died, I inherited a single prize; his nickel-plated brass boat whistle. Island boatmen used their whistles to hail each other, as foghorns, and as distress signals.

Grandpa's whistle looked exactly like this, and was made by Perko Marine in Brooklyn, New York. Somehow, it has since disappeared, but it was always one of my most favorite things ... to the extent that I thought every boy should have a boat whistle. After two or three years of trying, on and off, I finally came up with a replica that works. It's not an exact replica by appearance, but it sounds the same as the whistle I fondly remember.

I make these myself by hand; every one a little tribute to my Grandpa Warner, the Port Oneida boy who became that 'old man of the sea' from South Manitou Island.