They were called "pigboats" or "whalebacks," and they sailed by Leelanau's shores and discharged cargoes here, too.

The Meteor, a "pigboat" that once called on Greilickville,
is now a marine museum in Superior, Wis.

They were called pigboats not because they carried pigs, but because they had a distinctive pig-like bow.

The unique form of Great Lakes vessel was invented by Captain Alexander McDougall. Altogether, 40-some were built on the lakes between the years 1888-98.

For a number of years, they were so closely identified with the Great Lakes that some people thought all the lakes ships were whalebacks, even though the “pigs” never constituted more than a small fraction of the large inland fleet.

McDougall’s idea was that a ship should offer as little resistance to the waves as possible, and his design featured sides that curved inward to the main deck and a rounded bow. It was the bow that inspired the derisive term “pigboat” and some observers likened one of the steamers with barges in tow as “a sow with her piglets.”

Actually, most of the whalebacks were built as barges and only 16 were built as steamers.

The other most distinctive feature of the design was a turret, forward and aft, mounted on the main deck.

The first whaleback launched, a barge, was simply named No. 101. Legend has it that the number wasn’t an arbitrary one, however. The story goes that McDougall was given 10-to-1 odds by some skeptic that his craft would never complete its maiden voyage.

All but one of the steamers was constructed as a bulk carrier. The exception was a passenger-carrying whaleback – and what an exception it was. The day steamer, Christopher Columbus, built in 1892, could carry 5,600 passengers.

This ship was built for service at the World’s Fair at Chicago, where Michigan furnished a sleigh with a stupendous load of logs from the Upper Peninsula (the state was still famous for its lumbering industry at the time, having peaked out only a few years earlier).

During the course of its career, the Columbus is said to have carried more passengers (about two million during the World’s Fair alone) than any other ship ever to operate on the Great Lakes.

Only one serious accident marred an otherwise excellent safety record, and it was directly related to the ship’s unique design. On June 30, 1917, while being towed from her Milwaukee berth, the ship’s “snout” slipped over the dock facing and knocked the legs out from under a water tower. The tower crashed onto the bow of the ship, smashing the wheelhouse and killing 16 people.

The Columbus was repaired at Manitowoc, Wis., and returned to service.

The steamer also inspired an unknown poet to write a verse about The Passenger Hog:

The hogs that are loaded with iron or wheat
They seem to be handy fer use,
But the passenger hog is a mean one to meet,
An’ when you’re in dock she’s the deuce.
She’d ought to be given a port all her own,
Where no one would care how she’d jog,
Where she’d leave us poor freighters an’ others alone,
The ugly old passenger hog.

This was probably composed because the Columbus was noted for moving at a relatively fast clip, particularly under the command of her veteran master of 36 years, Capt. Charles Moody. He knew how the ship handled so well that he invariably took her wheel while in port.

Historian James Elliot writes “the wake of the fast-moving Columbus often raised havoc with ships that were moored at the various docks.”

On the open lake, the ship’s 18 foot propeller easily pushed the ship forward at a steady 20 miles an hour.

Idled by the Great Depression at Manitowoc for several seasons, the once proud ship was cut up for scrap, which went to Japan.

Whalebacks even served as automobile carriers. While in this service, the South Park, on Nov. 15, 1942, struck the breakwater at Manistique, Mich., where the Northport carferry once regularly called.

At the time, carferries out of Frankfort still called there and rendered assistance. Although the South Park was badly damaged, it was rebuilt, but as an oil tanker for Cleveland Tankers.

The old whaleback (built in 1896) seems to have been well suited for this newest role, and remained in service for almost another 30 years. It survived all of the other steamers and barges.

As a tanker, the vessel discharged petroleum products at Greilickville, and a crewman conceded the unusual ship drew a lot of attention.

In the larger ports, crowds would sometimes gather, and such was the case when the Meteor was once passing under a bridge.

“What in the world kind of ship are you?” someone in the crowd shouted.

“We’re a submarine and we’re about to submerge!” one of the crewmen shouted back.

The crowd quickly scattered.

Other units of the Cleveland Tankers fleet that called at Greilickville – all named after celestial objects – include Gemini, Saturn, Jupiter, Pleiades, Blue Comet, Mercury and Polaris.

The last vessel, like the Meteor, was a conversion. The Polaris was originally an LST (Landing Ship Tank), built during World War II.

The whaleback was originally named Frank Rockefeller and its first cargo was Mesabi iron ore.

Another whaleback, barge No. 102, carried the first cargo of Mesabi ore to Cleveland only a few years earlier. This great range proved to be the richest of all of those of the Great Lakes region.

Most of the high-grade ore from this range had already been mined when, after over 70 years of faithful service, the Meteor struck the rocks outside of Manitowoc harbor and sustained considerable damage. She was taken up the river there and tied up – just about where, decades earlier, the Christopher Columbus routinely spent the winters and was finally cut up.

If you wonder what a whaleback was really like, you can visit the Meteor. She’s now a marine museum at Superior, Wis.