Welcome to Door County
The name is as intriguing as the place.
Each year the readers of Door County Magazine are surveyed to identify some of their favorite locations, destinations and entertainment on the Peninsula.
It should come as no surprise that the state parks, especially Peninsula State Park, annually reap the most votes when it comes to scenery, camping and hiking. The county parks might be a tad bit overshadowed, but they also generate considerable support, especially when it comes to Cave Point and Cana Island.
The magazine readers have made it clear that the best thing they like about Door County is its beauty and how the county presents it. It could be a stunning Ellison Bluff view, the remarkable art in its many galleries and studios or even how it sets its performing arts in spectacular settings.
But readers were also asked this year what their favorite tale about Door County was and it seems many are familiar with the one that gave the Peninsula (and county) its name.
The elusive legend of Death's Door has fascinated many people from visitors to residents, authors and explorers for centuries, and the interest is still noted today in those survey results.
The story underscores the fact that this remarkable outcropping of land and its surrounding islands have been a popular destination long before there was such a thing as tourism.
The story centers on the name of the passage connecting the bay of Green Bay to Lake Michigan at the tip of the Door Peninsula. It has endured the hands of time, beginning with the traders and explorers and the influx of European settlers to the politics of modern age. Indeed, it is stamped upon the county's very name.
Although alluring, there is little to romanticize about how Death's Door received its name. The generally accepted saga is hardly heart-warming. It dates back centuries to when an impressive contingent of Potawatomi warriors embarked by canoe across the passage to meet their enemy on the mainland's shore. Before reaching their destination, the men faced a more sudden and fierce enemy - the winds and waves surrounding the rocky shores of the Potawatomi Islands (Washington, Detroit, Plum and Pilot Islands) and the bluffs of the Peninsula. Few in the party survived the storm, but the legend lives on at least long enough for the French explorers to hear this ominous account and tag the name "Port des Morts" on the passage. Later the English translated it to “Death's Door.”
Such a name is bound to draw natural curiosity - and respect.
Such as is the case with most legends, questions remain as to the authenticity of the story, but one thing is for certain - the passage can present challenges. Shipwrecks litter the Peninsula shoreline and Death's Door has claimed its share over time.
Now, modern navigational aides have made the crossing far less ominous, but small craft still best beware of its dangers.
Dick Purinton, president of the Washington Island Ferry Line, has crossed the passage many times and admits the legend has a strong hold on this maritime community.
“Local names were often shoved aside and disregarded. English names were often put in their place, but that is one that stayed,” he said.
Looking across the passage on a pleasant day can spur the question, just what makes the passage so defying? It is the unique and sudden convergence of wind speeds squeezed between the bluffs, the waves of the mighty Lake Michigan meeting the opposite pattern of seas in the bay, as well as large shelves of shallow shoals that combine to produce unpredictable conditions.
Like the Native Americans in their canoes, today's kayakers can find the passage particularly challenging. The annual Washington Island Canoe and Kayak Event includes a crossing of the passage - Death's Door Expedition - and includes experienced leaders and watchful assist vessels. Safety is a priority as event organizers stress the passage has a life of its own that needs to be noticed, recognized and reckoned with every time the passage is made.
The real dangers of Death's Door were met with the government's installation of some of the Door Peninsula's first lighthouses. Plum Island received the first in 1848, a lighthouse on Pilot Island in 1850, and a replacement for Plum Island lighthouse in 1896. Today, the Plum range lights are easily visible on ferry and excursion trips across the passage with Pilot in the distance. However, navigational aids were still unable to save all ships from destruction as vessels continued to find ruin at Death's Door. Local reaction to the treacherous waterway was to dredge and dig the Sturgeon Bay shipping canal in 1881 so ships could avoid the passage altogether - although many would tempt their fate rather than pay the initial canal tolls and tug fees.
Today, Death's Door continues to command respect and pleasure craft wisely traverse it on calm days. And, of course, there are the rugged commercial fishing tugs as well as the scheduled crossings of ferries and excursion boats.
In many ways, the namesake is fitting since the passage has come to symbolize a lot of what Door County is about. The mainland, the islands, the lighthouses, the beauty and - most of all - the strait connecting the two diverse bodies of water that define the county is what continues to draw so many people to this special Peninsula each year.
