Safe Harbor

It all started with my not-always-trusty 1978 Jeep CJ7, my 18' sea kayak, and my Siberian husky, Ahsoka. The plan was simple: take the ferry to Washington Island, drive to Jackson Harbor, and kayak across the mile-wide stretch of water to Rock Island for a day of photography. It was a perfect setup—adventure, scenery, and my job rolled into one. Not everyone gets to call this kind of chaos "work," but somehow, I do.

Washington Island has a way of making things interesting, though. As I drove along the north side near Jackson Harbor, the Jeep began to lose all power—yet the engine was still running. A quick inspection revealed the issue: a disconnected transmission line had generously dumped nearly all seven quarts of fluid onto the road. To make matters worse, there was no cell signal (which, let’s be honest, is most of the island). So, I did what any rational person would do—I told Ahsoka to stay in the doorless, topless Jeep and hoofed it to the nearest house.

A man answered my knock, and after hearing my predicament, he didn’t hesitate. He offered to drive me to Mann’s Hardware, the island’s go-to spot for all things essential. As we passed Nelson’s Hall, I considered stopping for a bitters chaser—because at this point, why not?—but priorities. At Mann’s, I cleared them out of all six quarts of transmission fluid they had on hand and returned to find that his wife had volunteered to dog-sit Ahsoka while she gardened. Washington Island hospitality at its finest.

With the Jeep miraculously revived, I finally got back to my actual job—paddling my kayak toward Rock Island with Ahsoka just in front of me, camera gear in a dry bag. Ahsoka, being the quintessential husky, was unfazed by the morning’s mechanical disaster. If anything, she seemed slightly disappointed that I wasn’t dragging the kayak through waist-deep snow for maximum suffering. The wind carried the scent of pine and freshwater, and for once, everything seemed to be going according to plan.

And that’s when I saw it: a picturesque little sailboat moored in the harbor, gently rocking on the water. I snapped a photo, not thinking much of it, and continued on. Despite the earlier Jeep-induced chaos, I managed a whirlwind three-hour photo hike around Rock Island before realizing I had to hurry back to make the last ferry.

As I paddled back across the water, I spotted the same sailboat again. This time, it was under sail, and at the helm—no way—it was the very guy who had saved me hours earlier! The same man who had driven me to Mann’s Hardware was now sailing past me on the very boat I had photographed. I shouted across the water, telling him about the picture, and promised to send him a copy. We had come full circle—literally.

Somehow, against all odds, I made it back to Washington Island, onto the ferry, and back to the mainland. The Jeep, now sloshing with fresh transmission fluid, even cooperated. Ahsoka, ever the adventure dog, sat proudly in the back seat, surveying her kingdom with the smug satisfaction of a dog who knew she had once again survived whatever nonsense I had dragged her into. It was one of those absurdly perfect days where mishaps turn into stories, and where I get reminded just how lucky I am that this kind of adventure—mechanical failures and all—is actually my job.

All prints are of museum quality and printed in The USA. Canvas Prints are wrapped around a hardwood frame to prevent long-term wrapping and utilize a 0.75" thick wrap. Metal Prints are glossy, vibrant, and of course are ready to hang.  These prints make a statement and bring Door County home to your wall.