Majestic and stately, the American Mariner is like a visitor from another century.

She sat one morning next to the General Mills silos on Buffalo's inner harbor, unloading tons of grain that will go into tons of Cheerios and other cereals. Industrial sounds filled the air, the rumble of a motor, the whir of belts.

Watching the Mariner, it's clear why Great Lakes freighters are the subject of fascination. By night, all lit up, they look like a Vegas casino. By day, they command attention with their graceful mass. Earlier this year, as the 690-foot Herbert C. Jackson maneuvered into the Buffalo Harbor, folks at the Hatch restaurant flocked to watch a tugboat guide the huge vessel through the twists and turns of the Buffalo River.

There was a time when more than 300 U.S. flagged freighters plied the Great Lakes, and ships lined up in the Buffalo Harbor. Now the sight of a ship is increasingly rare. Since 1959, the St. Lawrence Seaway has diverted boat traffic, the steel mills have gone and the grain elevators are mostly empty. Facing such changes, does Great Lakes shipping, a pursuit dating to this country's earliest days, still play a viable role in today's economy?

Glenn Nekvasal, the director of communication for the Lake Carriers Association, which includes almost all the U.S. freighters on the Great Lakes, points to good and bad news.

"From our last survey, we were running about 52 of our ships. There are six ships on the U.S. side that did not sail this year," he said.

Nekvasal cautioned against contrasting the numbers of today's ships with the numbers of the 1950s. "It's apples and oranges. In the 1950s, a big ship carred 25,000 tons. Today our ships can carry 70,000 tons."

He made clear, though, that the waters have been rough. In 2009, the shipping industry took a bad hit from the recession. Eight ships were idled.

The 2010 season, while better, is far from ideal. "I don't want people thinking that happy days are here again," he said. "The fact that we still have six ships laid up, that's not good news. That tells us the economy has not healed. When the economy is strong, we operate all of our vessels. The recovery is far from complete."

But there are positive signs.

Last year, the Environmental Protection Agency exempted 12 currently active Great Lakes steamships from a stringent new emissions rule that would have required expensive engine retrofitting that ship owners said they could not afford.

Also telling is that the Port of Buffalo -- the seventh-busiest port on the Great Lakes, and the 28th in the country -- makes money for its owner, Buffalo Crushed Stone.

"It's very competitive. It's a tough market," says port director Jim Pfohl. "But we're profitable."

While Nekvasal cannot make predictions, the improvement he notes over last year's season suggests that when the economy picks up again, shipping will, too.

"If our economy continues to rebound, there's every reason to expect that Great Lakes shipping will continue to rebound," Nekvasal said. "You can't make steel without ore. Those power plants need coal to make electricity. You can't rebuild roads and highways without limestone."

For companies that need these bulk materials, freighters remain the most economical option. A king-sized, 1,000-foot freighter -- the largest size on the Great Lakes -- can carry 70,000 tons, the equivalent of six 100-car trains, or 3,000 semi-trucks.

Coal and salt

The 28th largest port in the country, Buffalo ranks seventh among the Great Lakes ports. (Hamilton, Ont., with its steel plants, is No. 1.)

Coal goes by train from British Columbia to Thunder Bay, Ont., and a freighter carries it to Buffalo, where it is blended with coal from West Virginia and reloaded onto other ships to go to U.S. Steel Canada plants in Hamilton and Nanticoke.

Petroleum coke is hauled on a freighter from Chicago to Buffalo, continuing by rail to AES' Somerset power plant in Wilson. Freighters also carry limestone from Roger City, Mich., to Buffalo. From Buffalo, it goes by train to AES Somerset plant in Wilson, and by truck to the AES plant on Cayuga Lake.

In the winter, Buffalo's ubiquitous road salt comes in by ship -- from North American Rock Salt in Goderich, Ont.

Lake freighters' patterns are part of a stunning choreography. But the glamour of the boats can transcend numbers and economics.

Gordon Lightfoot's ballad memorializes the Edmund Fitzgerald, which sank with her crew in Lake Superior in 1975 while carrying 26,000 tons of taconite to Detroit. Barring these rare disasters, lake freighters, or "lakers," gain allure -- and economic viability -- because they enjoy long lives, longer than the "salties," their oceangoing counterparts.

The Arthur M. Anderson, which accompanied the Edmund Fitzgerald on its fateful last voyage, is still sailing, revered by freighter fans. Another celebrity ship is the St. Mary's Challenger, the oldest boat on the lakes. Launched in 1906 and renamed many times, it still plies Lake Michigan, hauling cement.

Ship trackers

The history of the great ships thrives on a Web site called www.boatnerd.com. Brian Wroblewski, the site's Buffalo correspondent, photographs boats in Buffalo and predicts their arrivals and departures.

Wroblewski notes that the American Mariner is of special interest -- at 734 feet, it is the biggest boat to date to navigate the narrow Buffalo River. He also points out that two freighters, the American Victory and the Lee A. Trigurtha, saw service in World War II.

"One of them, I forget which one, was hit by a Japanese bomb," he said. "There's still shrapnel bomb damage. It burned through the hull."

The glamour of the lake freighters does not wear thin, even for longtime sailors.

Daniel Bartels is the captain of the 634-foot Sam Laud, one of the 18 vessels owned by the American Steamship Company -- which owns three actual steamships, including the American Victory. Now a subsidiary of GATX of Chicago, the American Steamship Company is headquartered in Williamsville.

Bartels comes from generations of sailors. The son of a Great Lakes captain, he met his wife on the John J. Boland, a boat named for one of the founders of American Steamship.

He keeps scrapbooks on Great Lakes shipping. They show how in the early 1900s, a freighter's crew was required to wear a jacket and tie to dinner.

"In the old days, all the rooms were fancy," he said, pointing out the polished wood trim.

The wood finishes were long ago declared fire hazards, and formality has fallen by the wayside. Even in his own experience -- he began sailing soon after graduating from Cardinal O'Hara High School -- Bartels has seen changes.

Once, a boat would have a single, fuzzy TV. The crew would talk, play cards, hang out on deck. Now, with iPods and laptops, workers sequester themselves more in cabins.

Today's boats have air conditioning. Not too long ago, sailors would beat the heat just as Columbus did.

"You'd open the porthole, hope for a breeze," Bartels says. "On a hot night, you'd take your mattress out on deck, look up at the stars."

Though his job can become routine, Bartels still sees the magic in it. He grows dreamy describing the Northern Lights. "That's a lot of fun," he says. "And out on the lake, there are a lot of meteor showers."   

mkunz@buffnews.comnull