The Griffon - The Famous Great Lakes’ Lost 17th Century Ship

In 1679, a wooden ship named The Griffon sailed into Lake Michigan—and vanished without a trace. Built by French explorer René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle, the Griffon was the first European-style ship to sail the upper Great Lakes. She was loaded with furs and promise... but she never came back. In this episode of End of the Road in Michigan, we explore one of the oldest mysteries in North America. We trace the Griffon’s journey, the legends surrounding her disappearance, and the many failed attempts to find her remains.

 Was it mutiny? A storm? Or something deeper that pulled her under?

This is the story of a ship that opened the Great Lakes—and then disappeared into them.

Episode Transcript

(00:00):
Welcome to End of the Road in Michigan, the podcast that follows forgotten trails into stories shaping this state and the people who called it home.

(00:09):
This is the story of the Griffin, a wooden ship launched with ambition, carrying dreams, furs and hope into the unknown.
In 1679, she vanished on her maiden voyage, leaving only silence in her wake.
In the late 17th century, the Great Lakes remained largely uncharted, fast waters known primarily to indigenous peoples who navigated their shores with skill and reverence.

(00:37):
For Europeans, however, these lakes represented an immense frontier, a passage that could unlock trade routes and new territories.
Among those ambitious explorers was Rene Robert Cavallier, Sir de la Salle, whose visions reached far beyond mere exploration.
La Salle dreamed of establishing a network connecting the Great Lakes to the Mississippi River and ultimately the Gulf of Mexico.

(01:05):
Central to La Salle's ambitious plan was building a ship capable of navigating these expansive waters.
In the winter of 1678 amidst the snowy forests near the Niagara River, he and his crew undertook this daunting task.
Despite harsh weather, shortages and threats from the local Iroquois, the men foraged ahead.

(01:27):
They cut towering timbers, constructed shelters, built a forage, and slowly watched their ship take shape.
La Grafon, the Griffon, she was roughly 45 tons, measuring between 40 to 50 feet in length rigged like a brigantine and armed with seven small cannons.
The Griffon figurehead on her bosprit, symbolized vigilance and strength, honoring Count Frontenac, governor of New France, whose coat of arms featured this mythical creature.

(01:58):
Built from native materials, she was uniquely suited to the inland seas, she was destined to navigate.
On August the 7th, 1679, the Griffon set sail embarking from the Niagara River with La Salle, a crew of 32 men and the Belgian missionary, Father Louis Hennepin, whose vivid chronicles captured their voyage.

(02:20):
The ship sailed westward through Lake Erie, the Detroit River, Lake St. Clair, and onward through Lake Huron, each stretch presenting unique challenges.
Currents were unpredictable, shoals uncharted and storms sudden and fierce.
At the Straits of Maconaw, the gateway between Lake Huron and Lake Michigan, the crew landed on Maconaw Island, already a vibrant center of indigenous trade.

(02:49):
The arrival of La Grifon symbolized a turning point, signalling French ambition, extending further into North America's heartland.
From here they pressed on into Lake Michigan, a vast and mysterious expanse, largely untouched by European sails.
By early September, La Grifon anchored near Washington Island, off Wisconsin's door peninsula.

(03:13):
Local Potawatomi traders had gathered with valuable beaver peltz, coveted in Europe for hats and garments.
Recognizing this lucrative opportunity, La Salle filled the Griffon with furs and dispatched her back east to Fort Niagara.
With a crew reduced to just six men, she departed on September 18, 1679, intending to return with critical supplies for La Salle's continued explorations.

(03:39):
She was never seen again.
The disappearance of La Grifon became one of North America's earliest maritime mysteries, spawning theories and legends.
Perhaps she fell victim to the notorious autumn storms of the Great Lakes, ferocious enough to swallow ship's hole.
Some suggest the crew mutinied, driven by greed, scuttling the ship and vanishing with the valuable cargo.

(04:05):
Others speculate indigenous groups, wary of growing European encroachment, may have intercepted or destroyed the vessel.
Despite countless searches, no definitive evidence of her fate has emerged.
Over centuries, divers and historians have claimed more than 20 discoveries, each raising excitement and hope, yet none confirmed.

(04:27):
Notably, in 2001, explorer Steve LeBurt claimed to have found a wooden beam near poverty island in Northern Lake Michigan, believed to be part of the Griffon.
Later analysis suggested it was merely part of a 19th century fishing vessel.
La Salle, upon learning of his ship's disappearance, was devastated.

(04:48):
In letters to France, he lamented, "My ruin is complete. No one has suffered more than I."
Indeed, the loss of the Griffon symbolized a harsh reality check on European ambitions.
La Salle continued exploring, though tragedy shadowed him. Eventually, he met his end, far from the Great Lakes, murdered by his own men near the Gulf of Mexico.

(05:13):
Beyond her mysterious disappearance, the Griffon's legacy is profound.
She was the first European-built vessel to challenge the upper Great Lakes, herring a shift from indigenous waterways to European-controlled trade routes.
Her voyage marked the beginning of profound changes, maps redrawn, cultures clashing, and centuries of commerce and conflict ignited.

(05:38):
Yet, the Griffon's absence leaves a void, filled only by imagination. Perhaps she rests quietly on the lake bottom, preserved by cold fresh water.
Her timbers hidden beneath layers of sand and silt. A silent witness to the audacity of exploration and the merciless power of nature.

(05:59):
Standing on Lake Michigan's shoreline today, one can't help but gaze into the waves, considering the depths that conceal her.
The Griffon remains a potent reminder, not every ambitious voyage reaches its destination. Some vanish quietly, swallowed by history, preserved only as mystery.

(06:20):
Maybe the lake, in its vast indifference, simply reclaimed what it allowed briefly, a ship, dreams, and a daring venture into the unknown.
Some secrets, perhaps, are better left undiscovered. Thank you for joining me on End of the Road in Michigan.
If you enjoyed this episode, share it with someone who loves history or leave a review to help others, find our podcast.

(06:45):
For maps, primary sources, and more about the Griffon, visit thumbwind.com.
And if you ever walk the foggy shores of Lake Michigan, keep one eye on the horizon. Some ships never return.
Until next time, drive slow, ask questions, and always keep searching for the story's lost to time.

(07:06):
(soft music)