Rewilding the Islands: Nature, History, and Wilderness at Apostle Islands National Lakeshore by James W. Feldman A dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy (History) at the UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN-MADISON 2004 © Copyright by James W. Feldman 2004 All Rights Reserved i For Chris ii TABLE OF CONTENTS ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS iii INTRODUCTION Wilderness and History 1 CHAPTER ONE Dalrymple’s Dream: The Process of Progress in the Chequamegon Bay 20 CHAPTER TWO Where Hemlock came before Pine: The Local Geography of the Chequamegon Bay Logging Industry 83 CHAPTER THREE Stability and Change in the Island Fishing Industry 155 CHAPTER FOUR Consuming the Islands: Tourism and the Economy of the Chequamegon Bay, 1855-1934 213 CHAPTER FIVE Creating the Sand Island Wilderness, 1880-1945 262 CHAPTER SIX A Tale of Two Parks: Rewilding the Islands, 1929-1970 310 CHAPTER SEVEN Conclusion: The Rewilding Dilemma 371 SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY 412 iii ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS *** One of the chief advantages of studying environmental history is that you can go hiking, camping, and exploring in beautiful places and call it research. By choosing the history of the Apostle Islands for a dissertation topic, I even added kayaking and sailing to my list of research activities. There were many more hours spent in libraries, but those weren’t quite as memorable. All graduate students should have topics like this one. As I cast about for a dissertation topic, I knew that I wanted a place-based subject that met two requirements: It needed to be about a place to which I had a personal connection, and it needed to apply to a current, ongoing policy question or environmental issue. I found both in the Apostles. I first went camping on Stockton Island in the early 1980s, when I attended summer camp not far away at Camp Nebagamon for boys; I’ve returned to northern Wisconsin almost every year since. After I spent the summer of 1999 working for Apostle Islands National Lakeshore, learning more about the islands’ past and also about the upcoming Wilderness Suitability Study, I knew that I had found my topic. Of course, turning a dissertation topic into an actual dissertation has been another story entirely, one that required an awful lot of assistance from an awful lot of people along the way. I now understand why people often substitute laundry lists for acknowledgements sections. As I think back on the years that it took to complete this dissertation, the list of people to whom I am indebted keeps growing. Friends and family from near and far have provided the support that made this project possible. iv In Bayfield, the staff at Apostle Islands National Lakeshore has been open, friendly, and helpful from the start. Bob Mackreth, the park historian, has been a vital resource. He has opened his archives, his knowledge of the islands’ past, and even his house to me. He has responded to countless emailed questions not just with prompt answers, but also with enthusiasm and support. Superintendent Bob Krumenaker and Jim Nepstad, chief of planning and resource management, have been welcoming from the first, letting me sit in on the Wilderness Study meetings whenever I was able. Julie Van Stappen has likewise provided answers to my questions about the park’s ecosystems and resource management programs. Nancy Mannikko, Luke Johnson, Katy Holmer, Tam Hoffman, and Neil Howk have also helped along the way. The welcome reception that I received at the park made me look forward to all of my many research trips to Bayfield. Other people helped in tangible ways by sharing their knowledge, expertise, and memories. Julian Nelson and Cliff and Harvey Hadland agreed to be interviewed so that I could hear first-hand their stories of working in the commercial fisheries and their memories of lifetimes spent in the islands. Mary Rice hosted me for a night on Sand Island, answered my questions and shared with me her love of a place that has been in her family for three generations. Senator Gaylord Nelson recounted for me his role in shepherding the national lakeshore proposal through Congress. Todd Anderson and his family invited me to see the islands from their catamaran—sailing might be the best of all ways to explore the Apostles. Joel Heiman made maps that appear in Chapters One, Two, and Five. The list from Madison is far longer. My co-advisors, Nancy Langston and Bill Cronon, have been encouraging, challenging, and helpful with every single draft, funding proposal, and recommendation letter request that I have put to them. Nancy has provided support in ways that I v am sure she does not realize, perhaps most importantly in reminding me how things work outside of the department of history. Bill has been as kind, generous, and helpful a mentor as any student could ask for. Bill and Nan Fey let me stay in their Bayfield home whenever I needed it, making my many fruitful trips to Bayfield possible. This goes far beyond the boundaries of what an advisor does for a student and well into the realm of what one friend does for another. Thanks, too, to the other three members of my committee, John Milton Cooper III, Arne Alanen, and Tony Michels, for working within the strict time deadlines for setting up a defense. Arne also saved me hours of squinting at microfilm by providing his mountains of newspaper clippings on the islands, and Tony provided advice from the other side of the dissertation divide. Jim Schlender helped me to navigate the bureaucratic intricacies of the University of Wisconsin; many a graduate student would get lost in the system without his help, myself included. The powers-that-be in the history department provided crucial financial support in the form of fellowships, travel grants, and a project assistantship. One of the best things about the history department at the University of Wisconsin is its graduate community. Around every twisted corner of the Humanities Building lies a colleague and potential friend. Being a part of this community has been one of the best things about graduate school. Will Barnett has been a lecturing partner, a sounding board for dissertation ideas, and a trustworthy friend. The other members of my dissertation group, Mike Rawson, Tom Robertson, and Kendra Smith, provided helpful feedback and much-appreciated camaraderie. Chris Wells has been a sometimes-member of that group, and equally helpful. I’ve found support from Madison friends in many places: on the soccer field, at the poker table, in the TA offices, on the Terrace. Some of those who have been particularly inspiring, helpful, and fun: Mike vi Abelson, Shelby Balik, Karen Benjamin, John Bent and family, Katie Benton, David Bernstein, Greg Bond, Scott Breuninger, David Chang, Allison Craig Shashko, Ted Franz, Dave Fulton, Mike Grinney, Zoltan Grossman, Lynne Heasely, Sarah Marcus, Scott Moranda, Bill Philpott, Eric Olmanson, Jeanine Rhemtulla, Alexander Shashko, Dave Sheffler, Michelle Steen-Adams, Kristen Walton, Marsha Weisiger, Jesse Wolfe, and Keith Woodhouse. Becca Swartz, Joey Hoey, Todd Gray, and Amy Spratling have become fast friends and have provided an essential place where laughter is far more common than talk of the islands and their history, or history in general. Friends from farther away—college roommates, Logan survivors, camp family, the Glencoe gang—helped with this, too. The thanks that I owe to the people I met while pursing my Master’s degree in history at Utah State University continue to mount. The folks in Logan set me on this path in the first place. More than anyone else, Ona Siporin and Anne Butler taught me how to write, and how to take writing seriously. David Lewis has provided a full-circle feel to my graduate career by encouraging me as much in the final stages—as he helped me to publish an article in the Western Historical Quarterly—as he did in the initial ones. None of this—not just the dissertation, but also the past experiences that have made me who I am as well as the future that I’m so excited about—would have been possible without my family. My parents and brother, Susan, Scott, and Mark Feldman, have supported every decision I’ve made, validated every choice. It simply is not possible to put an appropriate thank you into words. My new family, Pat, Jack and Gail Taylor, have welcomed me with open arms. They came into my life in the early stages of this project, and I’m glad that they are here to see the end vii of it. Corny as it might be, I also need to acknowledge Murphy the dog; the solutions to some of my worst episodes of writers block came, with leash in hand, at the dog park or the field. And then there is Chris. She has been there since the beginning; we met during my first semester of graduate school, and I feel quite confident in saying that I would not have reached the end of this long road without her at my side. She is my best supporter, my best critic, and my best friend. She has become my partner in all things, and this dissertation is dedicated to her. 1 INTRODUCTION *** Wilderness and History In the summer of 2000, two park rangers sat in their shared basement office in the headquarters of Apostle Islands National Lakeshore discussing the recent nesting of the piping plover, a federally endangered shore bird, on Long Island. One of the employees, the park biologist, lamented the challenges of managing for endangered species on the island’s disturbed landscape.