Today was island day: Washington and Rock Islands. After the lightning show in Sister Bay the night before, I headed north to trade the mainland roads for a ferry ride and a different view of Door County.
An early ferry across Death’s Door
I drove to Northport and arrived at 7:10 a.m. for the 7:30 a.m. Washington Island Ferry. This is a car-and-passenger ferry, an everyday connection for the people who live on the island as well as visitors heading over for the day. Once I had driven aboard and parked the car, I headed upstairs to enjoy the view.
The crossing from Northport to Washington Island takes about 30 minutes. Leaving the end of Highway 42 behind, the ferry crosses the storied waters of Death’s Door, or Porte des Morts, and travels past Plum, Pilot, and Detroit Islands on its way to the island. Low, wooded shorelines break up the open water, turning the ride into a small island tour before the day’s exploring has even begun.
It was a little windy and rocky that morning. From the upper deck, I could enjoy the scenery while feeling the movement of the water beneath us—a different start from the driving days that had brought me here.
A different pace on Washington Island
Washington Island is a year-round community beyond the northern tip of the Door Peninsula. Wooded roads connect homes, farms, small businesses, and quiet stretches of shoreline. Its maritime history runs through fishing communities and ferry connections, while its Icelandic heritage adds another layer to the island’s story. There is room here for a day of exploring, whether that means rocky beaches, wooded parks, local museums, or simply following the roads toward the water.
Once off the ferry, I drove toward Jill’s Park, stopping for snacks along the way. I had scoped it out as the best place to send up the drone and try for a different view of Boyer Bluff Lighthouse. There was lots of tree damage from the storm the night before, a reminder that the lightning I had watched from the balcony had been part of a much bigger night.
Boyer Bluff Lighthouse: a return from the air
I arrived at Jill’s Park around 9:30 a.m. Officially named Jill J.J. Jorgenson Memorial Park, this small wooded park on the island’s north side looks out toward the waters of Washington Harbor. It gave me the starting point I had been looking for.
Boyer Bluff was already on my trip’s lighthouse tally, so this was a return visit for a different perspective. I sent the drone out and soon spotted the white skeletal tower rising through the trees. From above, its open framework stood out against the dense green canopy, with the bluff and shoreline giving it a very different setting from the view I had captured before.
I took a few pictures of the light, but found even more beauty in the cliffs. The pale rock faces, thick trees, and changing shades of water along the shore became the part of this stop that held my attention. The lighthouse had brought me here; the landscape gave me another reason to keep photographing.
Background: Washington Island Ferry Line · Washington Island Chamber of Commerce · Town of Washington parks
Rock Island Lighthouse: a race against the weather
Next I drove to Jackson Harbor for the ferry to Rock Island. My arrival time was 9:04 a.m., ahead of the 10 a.m. departure. At the dock, I was told the winds were already rough and expected to get rougher. The last trip back would be at 12:15 p.m. I still decided to go, knowing this would have to be a short visit.
This ferry was much smaller than the one from Northport, and I could really feel the impact of the waves. Rock Island lies northeast of Washington Island in Lake Michigan. Now a state park, it is a place of wooded trails, rocky shores, rustic campsites, and historic stone buildings. Cars and bicycles stay behind, so exploring happens on foot. After the drive across Washington Island, the change was immediate: another boat ride, then a trail into the woods.
A direct hike to the lighthouse
Once on Rock Island, I made a beeline for the lighthouse—about a 1.2-mile hike. It was a nice walk through the woods, although I was keeping the shortened ferry schedule in mind. I arrived at 10:40 a.m.
The building I had come to see is Pottawatomie Lighthouse, often called the Rock Island Lighthouse. The station was established in 1836, making it Wisconsin’s first lighthouse. The original building was replaced by the stone lighthouse first lit in 1858. Perched on a high bluff at the island’s northern end, it helped mariners identify the coast and keep clear of dangerous rocky shoreline. Its steady white light could be seen for 14 nautical miles.
The lighthouse combines a keeper’s home with a lantern room above the roof: pale stone walls, green shutters, and a red roof give it a very different character from a freestanding tower. Today the historic building is preserved as a museum, restored to its appearance around 1910. Live-in volunteer docents with the Friends of Rock Island welcome visitors and give tours, keeping the story of the station and its keepers alive.
Inside the keeper’s home
A very friendly family was serving as the docents during my visit. They showed me around inside and explained some of the lighthouse’s history and purpose. The furnished rooms made it easier to imagine life here: this was a home as well as a place of work, with the lake and weather always close by.
The family also talked about how scary the storms could be at night. With the wind already affecting the ferry schedule, that part of the conversation felt especially real. The windows and lantern room offered beautiful views, but they were also a reminder of how exposed this place could be when the weather turned.
After about twenty minutes, I headed straight back toward the landing. There was still more I could have explored, but catching the ferry mattered more than lingering.
Waiting at the landing
I reached the marina just as the 11:15 a.m. ferry was leaving. That meant another hour of waiting, and the conditions were getting worse. The waves were building, the rain and wind were becoming really bad, and I was getting nervous. I did not want to end up spending the night at the landing.
While I waited, I toured the marina area and its most striking building, the Thordarson Boathouse. Completed in 1929 for Icelandic-born inventor Chester Thordarson, the substantial stone building is far more elaborate than an ordinary ferry shelter. Broad arches face the water at the lower level, with a great hall above. Today it serves as a gathering place and a place to learn about Thordarson and the island’s history, with historic displays and preserved furnishings. Beside the docks, its stonework gives the landing a memorable sense of arrival—even when, as in my case, the main concern is leaving again.
Fortunately, I had a good internet connection and could check weather updates on my phone. Then I saw a boat coming toward the island, rocking badly in the waves. It turned out to be the Coast Guard. When they arrived, they said it had been one of their rockiest and hardest trips to the island. That was not exactly reassuring.
A very wet ride back to Jackson Harbor
Finally, the ferry came into sight. Seeing it approach was a relief: at least the boat had made it over, and we would have a way back. Soon we were aboard and heading out.
These ferries are small, and everyone was getting wet. Luckily, I had picked a reasonably good spot and had both a raincoat and a rain cover for the camera backpack. They kept most of me and my gear dry, although my face still got soaked.
The crossing was anything but direct. The crew took us well to the west before working back toward Jackson Harbor, zigzagging rather than holding a straight course as they dealt with the wind and waves. After the uncertainty at the landing and a very wet ride, we made it safely back. I was glad I had seen the lighthouse—and very glad to be back on Washington Island.
Rock Island background: Wisconsin DNR: Rock Island State Park · Pottawatomie Lighthouse history · Friends of Rock Island: Thordarson Boathouse
Back to Northport: two more lights from the ferry
I got on the 2 p.m. ferry from Washington Island, parked the car, and headed upstairs with the camera. I wanted to capture Plum Island Lighthouse and Pilot Island Lighthouse on the way back to Northport. After the small Rock Island ferry, this big car-and-passenger boat felt much steadier. The waves were still rocky, but they were not really an issue aboard the larger ferry.
Plum Island Lighthouse: a guide through Death’s Door
I was able to get several good views of Plum Island Lighthouse. First the white tower appeared above the trees; as our angle changed, the open framework and the keeper’s house came into view. Photographing from a moving ferry meant taking the opportunities as they appeared, with choppy water between the camera and the shore.
Plum Island sits in the passage between the Door Peninsula and Washington Island, where Lake Michigan meets the approaches to Green Bay. Its wooded shoreline holds a remarkable collection of maritime buildings, including a former lifesaving station and the range-light station. The rear range tower seen from the ferry is part of a pair of lights first operated in 1897. Mariners lined up the lower front light with the taller rear light to hold a safe course through Death’s Door.
The tall rear tower has a central column surrounded by braced metal legs, with the lantern at the top. The nearby keeper’s house gives a sense of the people who once maintained the station. The lights were automated in 1969 and remain navigational aids. Today the island is part of Green Bay National Wildlife Refuge, where wildlife habitat and maritime preservation share the landscape. Seasonal daytime access allows visitors to explore designated trails and view the historic structures, while the Friends of Plum and Pilot Islands support their preservation.
Pilot Island Lighthouse: a distant glimpse
Farther out, I could see Pilot Island Lighthouse in the distance. It was a much smaller subject in the frame than Plum Island, sitting low on the horizon beyond the waves. I managed a long-distance photograph, knowing it might be my only view of the light on this trip.
Pilot Island is a small, exposed island near the entrance to Death’s Door. Its lighthouse was built in 1858, replacing an earlier light on Plum Island whose position had proved less useful to passing ships. The compact keeper’s dwelling carries a lantern above its roof, combining a home and beacon in one building. Its light—and, historically, its fog signals—helped vessels recognize this dangerous approach in darkness and poor visibility. The station was automated in 1962, ending the need for a resident crew.
Today Pilot Island is part of Green Bay National Wildlife Refuge. Its historic lighthouse is a preservation concern, and the island provides habitat for colonial nesting birds. It is closed to public access, so this remains a lighthouse to appreciate from the water rather than a stop for an onshore tour.
Back on the mainland, then dinner in Sister Bay
By around four o’clock, I was back and scoping out a beach as a possible place to send the drone toward Pilot Island. The wind was simply too much. I would have to make do with the distant photograph or try again on a later visit to Door County.
I drove back to Sister Bay for dinner at Husby’s. I ordered the Cajun whitefish Reuben and a local craft beer. The sandwich was spectacular—a very good way to finish a day that had included hiking, lighthouses, and more than enough wind and water.
It had been a long day, and I was tired. I called it quits for the night with three new lights for the day: Rock Island, Plum Island, and Pilot Island. Boyer Bluff had given me a fresh perspective on a light already counted, and the island day had given me plenty to remember.
Island and lighthouse background: Plum Island historic structures · Pilot Island lighthouse history · Green Bay National Wildlife Refuge.
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