I left Appleton at about 6:00 a.m. There was a long drive ahead to Escanaba, Michigan, where I had a private charter planned to photograph Michigan lighthouses from the water. Before reaching the boat, though, I had one stop to make at the Wisconsin–Michigan border.
The drive carried me north from the Fox Cities toward Green Bay, then farther up the western side of the bay to Marinette. It was a transition from the Lake Winnebago stops of the previous day to the shoreline leading into the Upper Peninsula. Marinette, Wisconsin, and Menominee, Michigan, sit on opposite sides of the Menominee River; the North Pier Lighthouse is on the Michigan side, where the river opens into Green Bay.
Menominee North Pier: a quiet start
I arrived at about 7:30 a.m. Smoke from the Canadian wildfires was very present, leaving the sky hazy and softening the horizon. It was not the clear light I would normally hope for on a photography trip, but the morning had a character of its own. The smoke and early sunlight gave the water and sky a distinctive golden haze.
I enjoyed a ten-minute walk along the pier. It was quiet and empty, a peaceful opening to a day that would soon be much busier. At the end, the red tower stood above its white base, with a dark lantern room and railing at the top. The muted backdrop made that red shape stand out.
The light station was established in 1877 to guide vessels into the Menominee River and the harbor shared by Menominee and Marinette. Its eight-sided cast-iron tower became part of the harbor’s changing waterfront; during the 1927 pier improvements, it was installed above the concrete fog-signal building that forms the white base seen today. The interpretive sign at the lighthouse describes the original tower being reinstalled on that new structure.
The light was automated in 1972. Today it remains a working navigation light as well as a preserved waterfront landmark. The City of Menominee took ownership in 2008, and the Menominee County Historical Society offers interior tours during the summer. My early visit was about the walk and the views from outside. Local lighthouse history and tour information · Michigan visitor information.
By 7:45 a.m., I was finished and ready to continue north toward Escanaba. The golden haze had made this first stop of Day 2 feel different from anything I had photographed the day before.
Escanaba: a little time before the charter
From Menominee, the drive north to Escanaba took a little over an hour. This part of the journey carried me along the western side of Green Bay toward Little Bay de Noc, trading the border towns for the quieter stretches of the southern Upper Peninsula. The shoreline route between the two cities follows M-35, with wooded stretches and small waterfront communities along the way.
The time-zone change added an hour to the clock: Menominee is on Central Time, while Escanaba is on Eastern Time. I arrived around 10:00 a.m., excited to see the city. I had pictured the kind of quaint small town I often associate with the Upper Peninsula, and I had about an hour before my charter departed—enough time to make another lighthouse stop.
Sand Point Lighthouse by the bay
Sand Point Lighthouse stands near Ludington Park on Escanaba’s waterfront. Its white brick keeper’s house and attached square tower give it a very different shape from the red pierhead light I had just visited. A reddish roof, dark lantern room, and railing around the top add contrast to the white walls. With the trees and lawn around it, the building feels as much like a historic home as a lighthouse.
The light first served mariners in 1868, helping ships approaching Escanaba avoid the sand reef at the point. This was an important harbor as the Upper Peninsula’s iron industry and shipping trade grew. It served until 1939; changes to the harbor eventually left the old lighthouse farther from the hazard it had marked. The building later housed Coast Guard personnel. Today, restored by the Delta County Historical Society, it is a lighthouse museum where visitors can explore the keeper’s home and tower during its open season. Delta County Historical Society lighthouse history · Escanaba lighthouse visitor information.
There were very few people around that morning. The water was calm, ducks and geese were plentiful, and the sky still carried the haze from the Canadian fires. After the drive, it was a lovely place to slow down for a few minutes before heading out on the boat.
I could walk all the way around the building, which gave me plenty of angles to work with. I took a lot of photographs, from closer views of the tower and keeper’s house to wider compositions around the waterfront. Some of my favorite shots came from the beach, where the shoreline gave the lighthouse a different setting.
Finding a way to five offshore lights
The next part of the day was a three-hour private boat charter to photograph five lights in Green Bay and Lake Michigan. Of all the pieces of this trip, this was the one I had researched most. Reaching those offshore lights meant finding either a plane or a boat, and neither option came together easily.
I tried a plane first because it would be the fastest way to cover the distance. I had chartered a plane in Michigan the previous year, and that experience had worked out great. This time, the operator I found with experience doing these lighthouse flights was no longer offering them, so I pivoted to a boat.
After calling a handful of charters out of Sister Bay and Escanaba, I landed on Top 40 Charters. They are primarily a fishing charter, but I had seen Facebook posts about lighthouse trips as well. I worked with Steve, who was great, and secured a private charter for late morning.
For the week leading up to it, I kept checking the weather. This was the only day and time Steve could do the trip, and the forecast had been calling for rain and wind. The smoke was another concern: the air-quality readings I had been following were near 400. With so much riding on this one window, I was nervous about what we would find on the water.
When I reached the docks around 11:00 a.m., the conditions were calm and quiet. I crossed my fingers that they would hold for the full three hours. Steve and his charter partner were finishing up filleting salmon from their morning fishing trip. They had a good haul and kindly offered me some. I absolutely love salmon, but with a rental car and no way to keep it refrigerated on the road, I had to pass.
We were on the water at about 11:15 a.m., heading for Minneapolis Shoal. Despite the haze, it was a beautiful morning, and it felt great to be out on the bay. The boat even had Wi-Fi, which was welcome because my cellular connection was poor. I had already downloaded the area in Google Maps in preparation for that.
Minneapolis Shoal: close enough at last
Around 11:45 a.m., we began to make out the lighthouse through the haze. About five minutes later, we were close enough for the photographs I had hoped for. After all the planning, seeing it from the boat made the effort feel worthwhile.
Up close, Minneapolis Shoal is a substantial structure. A broad concrete foundation rises straight out of the water, supporting a white building and an eight-sided tower with a weathered red band. Above it are the dark lantern room, railings, and an antenna. The heavy base makes it look built for a very different day on the lake than the calm one we were enjoying.
First lit in 1935, the station marks the approach to Little Bay de Noc from Green Bay and warns mariners of the offshore shoal. A lightship previously marked the location. Built of steel and reinforced concrete, its Art Deco tower shares its design with Gray’s Reef Lighthouse. It was automated in 1979 and remains an active aid to navigation today; it is not open to the public. Coast Guard station history.
I took a lot of photos and videos in a short time. The sun was in just the right position, giving the lighthouse a striking backdrop and throwing warm reflections across the water. The haze was still there, but it helped create a view with its own mood.
We finished at Minneapolis Shoal shortly before noon, then headed toward Washington Island for our next stop: Boyer Bluff Lighthouse. The boat ride took about 30 minutes.
Boyer Bluff: a light above the cliffs
Washington Island made an impressive backdrop from the water. Pale limestone cliffs rose along the shore, with trees lining the bluff above them. The contrast between the exposed rock, the wooded slopes, and the open water gave this stop a very different feel from the offshore tower we had just left.
The island sits off the northern tip of Wisconsin’s Door Peninsula, where Green Bay meets Lake Michigan. It is a year-round island community reached by ferry from Northport, with wooded backroads, beaches, and small harbors. Its limestone shoreline is one of its distinctive features, including the smooth stones at Schoolhouse Beach. From the boat, though, it was the height of the bluff that held my attention.
High on Boyer Bluff at the island’s northwestern end, I could faintly make out the lighthouse. This one takes a little searching: it is an open steel skeletal tower rather than a solid lighthouse building with a keeper’s house. With the trees and haze around it, the slim framework was easy to overlook from the water.
The light station was established in 1933 to provide a navigational reference at this elevated corner of the island. Its position places the light about 220 feet above the water, giving mariners a beacon well above the shoreline. It remains an active Coast Guard aid to navigation, showing a flashing white light. The grounds and tower are closed to the public, making the view from the water a useful way to photograph it. Boyer Bluff history · Light and visitor information.
We stayed for only about five minutes, but I was able to get some decent shots of the light above the cliffs before we moved on.
St. Martin Island: a weathered tower along the shore
Our next stop was a fifteen-minute boat ride northwest to St. Martin Island. We arrived at 11:55 a.m. From the water, a pale beach stretched along the shoreline, backed by a dense mix of evergreens and leafy trees. The slender lighthouse rose above the woods, with the red roof of the keeper’s house partly visible through the foliage.
St. Martin Island lies in northern Lake Michigan at the entrance to Green Bay, between Wisconsin’s Washington Island and Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Much of this remote, wooded island is protected as part of Green Bay National Wildlife Refuge, providing important resting and feeding habitat for migrating birds. The lighthouse property is owned by the Little Traverse Bay Bands of Odawa Indians.
First lit in 1905, St. Martin Island Lighthouse helped vessels navigate the passages between Lake Michigan and Green Bay and avoid the shoals around the island. Its roughly 75-foot metal tower has an unusual six-sided, externally braced design, topped by a dark lantern room and gallery. The weathered white paint and exposed rust gave it plenty of character against the green trees.
The station was automated in 1980, ending the need for resident lightkeepers. Today it continues to serve as an automated navigation light; the station and tower are closed to the public. The historic keeper’s house remains beside the tower, a reminder of the people who once maintained the light on this isolated shore. Lighthouse history · Island and wildlife refuge history.
We spent about five to ten minutes here, photographing the lighthouse from the boat before continuing to the next stop.
Poverty Island: a weathered lighthouse and a lost-gold legend
Our next stop was Poverty Island, where we arrived at 1:15 p.m. This small, uninhabited island lies in northern Lake Michigan, off the southern end of Michigan’s Garden Peninsula, among the islands separating the open lake from Green Bay. Dense woods cover much of the island, giving way to a low, rocky shoreline. Above the trees stood a lighthouse that looked as though it had spent a very long time facing the elements.
The station’s permanent tower light first shone on August 10, 1875, following a temporary light the previous year. It guided ships through Poverty Island Passage, a shorter route between Lake Michigan and northern Green Bay that became increasingly important as iron-ore traffic to Escanaba grew. The roughly 65-foot circular brick tower was painted white and connected to the keeper’s dwelling by a covered passage. Its fourth-order Fresnel lens originally displayed a flashing red light.
Today the historic tower is abandoned and no longer serves as a working lighthouse. Its peeling white finish exposes the brick beneath, and the missing lantern room leaves a bare platform at the top. The old lantern was eventually reused in the restoration of Sand Point Lighthouse in Escanaba—the lighthouse I had visited earlier that morning. The buildings remain in deteriorating condition, making this a view from the water rather than a staffed lighthouse attraction. Lighthouse history.
Captain Steve also told me about Civil War gold supposedly hidden here and the island’s connection to an Oak Island television series. The treasure story is a longstanding local legend, although the better-documented versions place the gold in the waters around Poverty Island, rather than buried on the island itself. One version describes gold intended to support the Confederacy being thrown overboard to keep it from Union forces. It is a compelling tale, but the shipment and its fate remain unverified.
The mystery has drawn treasure hunters for decades. A 1995 federal court opinion documented Steven Libert’s search for the legendary gold and his belief that the Captain Lawrence, wrecked here in 1933, might hold clues—or even a recovered chest. The opinion records the hunt and the claims; it does not establish that the gold existed or was found. Documented treasure-search history · A local retelling of the legend.
The television connection, however, checks out. HISTORY’s Beyond Oak Island, a companion series featuring Rick and Marty Lagina from The Curse of Oak Island, explored the search here. “The Riches of Poverty Island” aired on October 11, 2022, followed by “Return to Poverty Island” on November 1, 2022. Both focused on treasure hunting around the island. Hearing Captain Steve’s story while looking at the weathered tower gave this brief stop an extra layer of mystery. HISTORY’s episode guide.
We spent about ten minutes here before heading on to the next stop.
Peninsula Point: back toward Escanaba
Leaving Poverty Island behind, we travelled northwest back toward Escanaba. Our next stop was Peninsula Point Lighthouse, at the southern tip of the Stonington Peninsula. This narrow finger of land separates Little Bay de Noc from Big Bay de Noc, with the open waters of Green Bay stretching to the south. The wooded peninsula ends in a rocky shoreline—a scenic setting with shoals extending well beyond the point.
Built in 1865, the lighthouse helped vessels negotiate those dangerous shallows and the turn around the peninsula. Its approximately 40-foot square tower was built from pale, cream-colored brick and originally formed part of the keeper’s house. A dark lantern room crowns the compact tower, giving it a very different profile from the taller island lights we had visited earlier. Its fourth-order Fresnel lens once provided a guiding light for ships travelling to and from the bays.
As shipping routes shifted farther south and Minneapolis Shoal Lighthouse took over the offshore navigation role, Peninsula Point’s light became unnecessary. It was deactivated in 1936. The keeper’s dwelling was lost to fire in 1959, leaving the brick tower as the surviving landmark. Coast Guard lighthouse history.
Today the site is part of Hiawatha National Forest and serves as a historic attraction and recreation area. Visitors can climb the tower for broad views across the water, picnic, walk the shoreline and watch birds. The point is also known for migrating monarch butterflies, which gather here in late summer and early fall before continuing across the water on their journey toward Mexico. The lighthouse’s role has changed, but the setting still draws people to this quiet corner of the Upper Peninsula. Visitor information · Michigan DNR’s monarch migration story.
Escanaba Harbor Crib Light: one last bonus
Explore the Light Beyond the Charter →
As we pulled back into Little Bay de Noc, we had time for one more light: Escanaba Harbor Crib Light. It was a bonus beyond the lighthouse checklist I was working through, and a fitting final stop before returning to the docks.
The compact white steel tower stands on a circular black crib just offshore, with a broad green band around its middle and an open railing surrounding the light at the top. Small round openings punctuate its sides. From the boat, it had a distinctly practical character—a working harbor marker with Escanaba’s shoreline behind it.
Built in the late 1930s and in service for the 1939 shipping season, the crib light replaced Sand Point Lighthouse as the harbor’s navigation light. Changes to the shoreline and harbor had left the older lighthouse farther from the hazard it was intended to mark. The offshore light put the warning where mariners needed it, marking the shoal at the approach to Escanaba Harbor. It connected our final stop on the water with the historic Sand Point Lighthouse I had visited that morning. Sand Point and the replacement crib light.
Today it remains an automated aid to navigation, listed by the U.S. Coast Guard as Escanaba Light. Its white signal alternates three seconds of light with three seconds of darkness, helping boaters identify it at night; it also has a fog horn for low visibility. This modest tower still carries out the job it was built to do: helping vessels navigate the harbor’s shoal waters. Coast Guard Light List.
We were back at the docks at about 2:15 p.m. It had been a great three-plus hours on the water with Captain Steve, photographing lights that would have been difficult to reach any other way. The bonus crib light was a satisfying finish to the charter. There was still one final Michigan lighthouse site to find back on land: Cedar River.
Cedar River: the last Michigan light on my Lake Michigan list
Back on land, I drove south from Escanaba along M-35 to Cedar River. This small community sits where the river meets the western shore of Green Bay, part of Lake Michigan. Once a busy lumber-shipping port, the area now has a quieter rhythm, with fishing, boating and a state harbor offering seasonal and transient slips.
Finding the historic lighthouse site took longer than expected. The directions were not right, and the vegetation had almost completely swallowed the view. Instead of a tower standing out against the sky, I eventually found the old keeper’s dwelling tucked behind trees, tall grass and tangled branches.
Cedar River’s original light was first displayed on November 20, 1889. It was a white, square wooden tower with a pyramidal framework, about 38 feet tall, built on the pierhead to help vessels find the river entrance and avoid its shallow bar. The light served the lumber trade and ships seeking shelter along this stretch of Green Bay. Range lights were later added to help mariners line up with the harbor channel. Historic Cedar River light station.
The building in my photograph is the keeper’s home, built around 1890–1891: red brick below, with a shingled upper story and a steep roof. It housed the people who tended the station’s lights. The original tower was moved ashore beside the dwelling in 1908; in 1922, the old light and ranges were discontinued and replaced by an unattended light on the west pier.
Today the original tower no longer stands. The surviving keeper’s dwelling is privately owned, with the grounds and building closed to visitors. It remains a link to the former light station rather than a working lighthouse or public museum. Modern navigation lights serve the river entrance, while Cedar River State Harbor continues the area’s role as a place for boaters to stop and find shelter. Station history and present-day status · Cedar River State Harbor.
Uncover Cedar River’s Lightkeeping Story → Explore the surviving keeper’s residence, station history, and visitor information.
A couple of quick snaps at 2:20 p.m., and I was back on the road. This was officially the last Michigan lighthouse site I needed to capture on Lake Michigan. After the boat charter and one final search through the greenery, that part of my lighthouse list was complete. Whoot!
Long Tail Point: back to Wisconsin, with a view from above
From Cedar River, I continued south toward Long Tail Point Lighthouse, crossing back into Wisconsin and gaining an hour as I returned to the Central time zone. I parked at Fort Howard Wildlife Area, a spot I had picked out ahead of time because it offered the closest place for my drone to reach the light. The old tower was about 1.6 miles out, on what looked from shore like a string of small islands.
Long Tail Point is a narrow sand spit reaching into the western side of Green Bay, near Suamico. From above, its shape really came into focus: low stretches of sand and marsh, green vegetation, scattered trees and shallow water along the edges. Changing bay levels shape the shoreline and the mix of beaches, wetlands and wooded patches. The sheltered water inside the point is known as Dead Horse Bay. Today the point forms the Long Tail Unit of the Green Bay West Shores Wildlife Area, an important stopover for migrating waterfowl and a place for fishing, paddling and wildlife watching. Wisconsin DNR: Long Tail Unit.
The stone lighthouse was first lit in 1848, the same year Wisconsin became a state. It helped vessels approaching Green Bay navigate past the point and its shallow waters on their way toward the port. Erosion soon threatened the station, and by 1859 water surrounded the tower. A replacement light was built farther north, with the original lantern and lens moved to the new structure. U.S. Coast Guard station history.
What remains today is the original tapered stone tower, without its lantern room. It is a historic ruin rather than an operating lighthouse or a public museum. The later Long Tail Point lights are gone, but this sturdy shell still marks the old station’s place in Green Bay’s maritime history. The Wisconsin DNR owns the site; the tower itself is closed to visitors. Long Tail Point history and present-day status.
Several boaters were anchored out near the point, presumably enjoying a swim. Back by the water, people were playing fetch with their dogs, who seemed to be having a great time splashing after their toys. It was a pretty cool area—one of those stops where the setting was as memorable as the lighthouse itself.
The sky was clearer now, and the sunshine made for a beautiful afternoon. After the haze earlier in the day, it felt good to see the greens of the point and the water around it more clearly. I came away with some cool aerial photographs and another Wisconsin light captured.
Grassy Island: two lights, one guiding line
After Long Tail Point, I drove from the Suamico area toward Green Bay’s waterfront for the Grassy Island Range Lights. The route brought me from the quieter western shore of the bay into the city and around to the east side of the Fox River. My destination was the Metro Boat Launch, next to the Green Bay Yacht Club, where I could photograph the lights from the public waterfront. I arrived at about 4:35 p.m.
Two white, shingled wooden towers stand by the yacht club harbor, each topped with a lantern room and a reddish roof. One is taller than the other. With boats nearby and the sweeping arch of the Leo Frigo Memorial Bridge behind them, the scene brings Green Bay’s old maritime history into its present-day working waterfront.
The pair was first lit in 1872 on Grassy Island to guide vessels through a dredged channel toward the Fox River and the Port of Green Bay. There are two lighthouses because they worked as a range: the lower front light and the higher rear light formed a visual alignment. From the correct approach, a mariner would see one light directly above the other. Keeping them lined up helped keep the vessel on the channel’s intended course; seeing them separated showed that the boat had moved off that line.
The lights were automated in 1934 and decommissioned in 1966 when further channel widening threatened the old station. Green Bay Yacht Club members helped save the towers and bring them ashore. They were later placed together at their present waterfront location in 1999 and restored by volunteers. Today they are preserved historic landmarks on the yacht club’s private grounds, rather than the operating range that once guided ships through Grassy Island. The neighboring public boat launch offers a view without entering the club. Coast Guard station history · Wisconsin Historical Society visitor information.
This was another quick stop—only about five minutes. I snapped a few photographs of the pair, then was ready to get back on the road.
Lambeau Field: a Lions fan’s detour
For my next stop, I took a break from lighthouses and decided to visit Lambeau Field. Growing up in metro Detroit, I was definitely a Lions fan, but I can still appreciate a place with this much football history.
Lambeau opened in 1957 as City Stadium and was renamed in 1965 for Packers co-founder and longtime coach Earl “Curly” Lambeau. It is one of professional football’s most storied venues, closely associated with Vince Lombardi’s championship teams and the cold-weather tradition of the “Frozen Tundra.” Decades of renovations have expanded the stadium while keeping it rooted in the same Green Bay home. Packers history and timeline.
The brick facade, green trim, and Packers banners made it unmistakable. It was a worthwhile change of pace during a day spent chasing lights along the shoreline. I could enjoy the history and get a few photographs while keeping my Lions allegiance intact.
Green Bay Harbor Entrance: back to the water
After the Lambeau detour, it was time to return to lighthouses. I drove through Green Bay toward Point Comfort to launch my drone for Green Bay Harbor Entrance Lighthouse. The drive took me through the city’s industrial side, past packing companies and the working streets around them, before giving way to the bay shore.
Coming straight from the stadium, the packing plants were an interesting connection to the football team’s name. The Packers took their name from the Indian Packing Company, which sponsored the newly formed team in 1919. The companies I passed were a reminder of that broader industrial heritage, rather than the origin of the name themselves. Packers team history.
I knew this would be a drone stop: by my estimate, the lighthouse was about 2.5 miles out in the water from where I planned to launch. I found beach access at Point Comfort, but parking was not allowed right by the access. I had to leave the car about a quarter-mile away and walk down to the water with my drone gear.
It was a really nice beach, with attractive homes around the surrounding shoreline neighborhood. After the packing plants and busy city streets, the sandy shore and open view across the bay offered a quieter setting. Trees edged the beach, and the sun glowed through the lingering haze over the water.
Out in the bay, the lighthouse stands alone on a broad circular concrete foundation. Its white cylindrical tower rises from a round base, with a dark lantern room and a tall metal framework above it. Seen from the air, the clean circular shape of the station contrasts with the rippled water surrounding it.
First lit in 1935, the lighthouse marks the western side of the entrance to the dredged shipping channel leading toward Green Bay and the Fox River. It was built as an offshore station with a light, fog signal, and radiobeacon to help vessels find the harbor approach. Automated in 1979, it remains an active Coast Guard aid to navigation; the tower is closed to the public. Coast Guard station history · Channel location and present-day status.
Into Door County for the night
After the Green Bay Harbor Entrance stop, I drove north up the peninsula, entering Door County and continuing into Sturgeon Bay. Door County stretches between Green Bay and Lake Michigan, with waterfront towns, wooded parks, beaches, and limestone shoreline. Sturgeon Bay was my destination for the night.
I stopped for dinner at Kitty O’Reilly’s, where the turkey Reuben was great—a satisfying finish to a full day on the road and water.
After dinner, I headed to the Best Western Maritime Inn to settle in for the night.