Between the shelter at home restrictions and hip surgery, I was confined to my house and back deck for weeks and desperately needed a change of scenery. So one hot, sunny Saturday afternoon in August, we packed a picnic and drove to Port Huron to enjoy the waterfront and watch the freighters on the St. Clair River; our destination the Blue Water Riverwalk.
The Blue Water Riverwalk is a mile long park in Port Huron that parallels the St. Clair River. It gets its name from the bridge that spans the river’s brilliant blue waters, connecting Port Huron, Michigan to Sarnia, Ontario. Constructed in 1938, this arch cantilever bridge was built to facilitate international travel and commerce between the US and Canada. It served its purpose so well that by 1980 there was so much cross border traffic that planning commenced to demolish the original bridge and build a new, larger one to decrease congestion. However, an innovative engineering proposal was brought forward to renovate the current bridge and build an identical span next to it so that eastbound and westbound traffic could travel on separate side by side roadways. Sixty two million dollars later, the twinned Blue Water Bridge became a reality and is now the pride and joy of both Port Huron and Sarnia.
We set up our chairs in the grassy park on the north end of the walkway near the Thomas Edison Inn. The inn and nearby railroad depot, now a museum (although closed due to COVID) commemorates the ten years Thomas Edison spent as a youth in Port Huron. His father moved the family from Milan Ohio to Port Huron when Thomas was seven to earn a better living as a farmer, land speculator, and carpenter. Demonstrating his creativity and entrepreneurial spirit at an early age, the 12 year old Thomas sold candy and newspapers at the Grand Trunk train depot, taking the train several days a week on the 100 mile journey to Detroit to use the library. Legend has it that he became so successful that he hired two boys to work other Grand Trunk lines to Detroit. With the money he made, young Thomas was able to buy scientific equipment, and turn one of the baggage cars into his own laboratory. Edison left Port Huron, at the age of seventeen, continuing to work on the railroad until setting up his famed Menlo Park workshop in New Jersey. A statue of Thomas selling his wares commemorates Port Huron’s favorite son.
Before we could unpack our picnic lunch, a red bottomed freighter entered the St. Clair River from Lake Huron majestically sailing under the twinned span of the bridge. Longer than two football fields, these massive freighters can carry tens of thousands of tons of cargo. Like floating bricks, their pointed bows cut through the water, literally pushing a wall of water out of their way as their powerful engines propel them forward.
Once its entire length cleared the bridge, the freighter turned sharply to starboard, following the bend of the river, paralleling the bridge it had just passed under. This section of the shipping channel where Lake Huron flows into the St. Clair River is considered one of the more challenging areas to navigate because of both the strong current from the lake and the sharp bend in the river. Over the years there have been many near misses and at least two instances, the most recent in 2010, where one of these sailing behemoths misnavigated the turn and crashed into the river walk seawall.
As the freighter approached, we made out her name – Federal Sakura. A quick google search showed that she was not a Great Lakes freighter but instead a bulk cargo ship commissioned out of the Marshall Islands chartered by an Canadian maritime transport company. Riding high in the water, she had deposited her cargo – probably raw materials to one of the steel mills on the Great Lakes.
Snacking on cheese and fruit while discreetly sipping our beer and wine in plastic cups, we people watched. It was a very hot afternoon and the allure of cooling down in the blue waters enticed two young men to race towards the river walk rail and somersault over. Laughing, they swam to a rescue ladder, climbed back up over the rail and repeated the maneuver trying to synchronize their flips. After several tries, they successfully catapulted over the rail, somersaulting in unison.
Rail flipping must be a local pastime. No sooner had the synchronized somersaulters left, when two young men in construction boots, filthy with sweat and mud, stripped down to their shorts, charged the railing and launched themselves into the river. They did this several more times, eventually cleaning the layers of grime from their bodies. We were pleasantly surprised to witness the show of aerial acrobatics as we picnicked.
Finished with our picnic, we strolled the river walk, enjoying the breeze. Water levels in the Great Lakes are unusually high this year, so when freighters or even larger pleasure boats passed, their waves crested over the river walk, dampening our shoes and cooling us down. We paused to examine the Huron Lightship, a vessel that sailed the Great Lakes as a navigation aid for ships, permanently docked on the river. Commissioned in 1921, the Huron’s beacon guided vessels throughout various areas of Lake Michigan and Lake Huron, helping them to avoid shallows and rocky shoals for almost 50 years. The boat was retired in 1970 and presented to the City of Port Huron the next year, today serving as a small museum depicting the day in the life of a crew member on a light ship.
As the afternoon waned, we gathered our things and headed home, appreciating our day on the river walk. Funny how a mini staycation less than one hundred miles from home can cheer the mind and soul!