FEATURES

J.W. PARMELEE Fruitless Vigil at South Point

In the days of the lumber schooners, from about 1875 to 1910, the rivalry among Great Lakes tug captains was of such an intense nature that present-day polite competition seems tame in comparison. Prerequisites for survival were quick ingenuity, a sharp wit, and the ability to interpret wild rumors correctly, rumors that were constantly floating around, some of them intentionally planted. The lack of rapid communication was a factor in the almost constant confusion, and gave time for stated facts to become wild rumored fancies.

The big prizes in the towing business were the multiple tows, from two to six ships tied together in a long line. In the Charlevoix, Mich., area there were only two tugs capable of handling multiple tows during the bustling 1890s. One was the Taylor and the other the Parmelee. The rivalry between these two tugs was well known, and the lengths to which each captain would go to win a towing job was the talk of the shipping industry on the Great Lakes.

On one occasion a multiple tow of six ships was known to be on its way from the south and was due off Norwood on a Wednesday morning, so the preceding day the rivals made their tugs ready for the race to the schooners. Since it was well known that the Taylor was slightly faster than the Parmelee, the captain of the latter decided to get a good lead on his rival. [At left, the S.S. Manitou is being towed by the Parmelee through the Charlevoix's Lower Channel into Round Lake Harbor.]

So, the evening of Tuesday being calm, the Parmelee slipped quietly out through the channel and cast anchor just beyond South Point. As night fell, the Taylor lay at her dock in Round Lake as though nothing had happened. It was a calm, moonless, dark and slightly misty sky, and the Parmelee sat quietly at point, keeping a sharp watch of the piers for any sign of her rival.

Shortly after midnight a sailing vessel was sighted leaving the channel. The lights on the spars and the lights fore and aft were clearly visible and were in sight for almost an hour before they slowly disappeared in the west. It was a pretty sight, and broke the monotony of the long watch. During the rest of the night there was nothing for the lookout to report.

As morning approached, the captain of the Parmelee began to get a little nervous, for it was past time for the Taylor to start her run. So he pulled anchor and headed southwest to meet the tow.

The sun soon broke above the horizon, only to reveal in the distance, as in an unveiling, a long line of lumber schooners and one lone sailing vessel being towed by the Taylor slowly and silently toward the still sleeping village of Charlevoix.

An impressive and majestic picture, one the captain of the Parmelee would not soon forget. [At right, deck of the Parmelee, covered with fish.]

-- From the Charlevoix, Mich., Public Library