Lake Michigan's Most Famous Pirate

When imagining pirates Caribbean shoals, tropical islands, and drunken Johnny Depp-type figures come to mind for most.

Rarely do people think of the Great Lakes as a destination for piracy, but given the area’s economic might in the 19th and 20th centuries, why shouldn’t they?

“Roaring” Dan Seavey was a true pirate that tormented the waters of Lake Michigan in the early 1900s. From commandeering other ships to creating a black market empire running illegal booze and poached venison to Chicago, Seavey was regionally renowned and feared in all of the ports and bars that he frequented along the shores of Lake Michigan.

Seavey was born on March 23, 1865, in Maine. He became a highly proficient sailor at the young age of 13, and after a quick stint in the Navy, moved to Marinette, Wisconsin. He married, started a family, and after finding success in the commercial fishing industry, bought a farm and opened two bars in Milwaukee.

But just before the turn of the century, Dan Seavey abandoned his family for the Klondike Gold Rush out west. Unsuccessful and broke, he returned home two years later for another brief period before abandoning his family once more and moving to Escanaba, where he returned to a life on the water.

Seavey quickly made a name for himself as an extremely proficient sailor and began a legitimate business of trade from port to port. His 40-foot schooner named the Wanderer would run apples, peaches, and plums between Lake Michigan ports and was often cited as being the first to leave the harbor in the spring, and the last to return in the fall as ice hugged the hulls of the vessels docked for the winter.

Seavey became known infamously for his pristine record in barroom boxing. Given this notoriety, many bar patrons and sailors alike rarely questioned Seavey and avoided any potential conflict with him or his crew. So much so, that even when a steamer ran aground on Big Summer Island carrying gloves, shoes, and other leather goods, no one dared question the Wanderer crew, who started wearing brand new leather goods oddly similar to those that were lost on the aforementioned vessel.

But as stories like this became more common, Seavey’s enterprise grew more creative in other black market commerce.

Dan was an expert marksman and hunter. He would shoot out lighthouse and port lights and set up false lights in more remote locations. When vessels would mistake these false lights for their intended port’s lights, the Wanderer would ambush them and force the crew to relinquish any goods they had on deck.

Defying bag limits and season restrictions, Seavey would poach white-tailed deer and run the venison and hides to Chicago where he could easily sell the goods in a city already rampant with crime. When a rival black market enterprise caught on and attempted to do the same, Seavey got word of the run and caught up with the vessel in the Wanderer. He used a cannon to fire upon the rival ship, sinking her and her crew.

His crew was known for almost unbelievable amounts of black market activities: poaching, booze-running, hijacking, prostitution trade, operating a riverboat brothel, and more.

Despite his extensive rap sheet, his “magnum opus” occurred when Dan Seavey boarded the schooner Nellie Johnson, which had been tied up and loaded with a cargo of cedar posts. Seavey introduced himself as a friendly fellow—a sailor with a jug of booze that he was looking to share with the vessel’s crew in exchange for some good maritime discussion. He proceeded to get the entire crew blackout drunk, and when his own crew boarded the vessel, they set sail out of port with the drunken crew left behind.

Upon receiving word of the hijacking, the cutter Tuscarora gave chase to Seavey and his crew. What followed was a multi-day game of cat-and-mouse where, knowing the waters better than most, Dan was able to evade the Tuscarora by hiding in and out of the coves of remote islands.

Eventually, the chase came to an end one night when the Tuscarora spotted the Nellie Johnson attempting to return to port in Frankfort. In a last ditch effort, Dan shot the harbor’s port lights out and placed last-minute false lights attached to floating barrels on a nearby shoal. As the Tuscarora approached, it ran aground.

As Dan and his crew laughed and cheered in disbelief, they paid no attention to the path of their own vessel, which glided into the harbor, collided with the dock, and sank. Seavey was taken away in handcuffs to Chicago and was tried on grounds of piracy. Surprisingly, a maritime attorney who had hunted with Seavey got the charges dropped. Until his death, Dan Seavey always asserted that he had acquired the Nellie Johnson in a game of poker.

As Dan grew older, his illegal activities became fewer and far between. Many accounts estimate that throughout his years of engaging in piracy, he and his crew had amassed upwards of millions.

Despite his fortune, on Feb. 14, 1949, Dan passed away in a nursing home in Peshtigo, Wisconsin, completely broke.