As an east coast native, I had never heard of Boblo (pronounced “Bob-Lo”) until a woman named Gloria told me about her psychic connection with an amusement park ferry boat. She claimed she could hear the “Boblo Boat” Columbia speak to her. I was naturally skeptical but intrigued once Gloria described the two distinct personalities of SS Columbia and her sister, Ste. Claire. Once I met the Boblo Boat restoration teams who were fighting to keep the remnants of Boblo alive by resurrecting these two decrepit steamboats, I was instantly bit by the Boblo bug. The story felt bigger than just Detroit. It became a story about people striving to accomplish the impossible.

You can’t shake a Faygo pop in Detroit without splashing someone with a Boblo memory. From first kisses and marriage proposals on the boats, to school field trips spent throwing up after riding the roller coaster, Boblo is a part of the city’s culture. Yet it closed down almost 30 years ago. There is something magical about generations of Detroiters still carrying around those memories, and I wanted to pay tribute to these while simultaneously peeling back the layers of nostalgia to see what stories or characters might be hiding underneath.

Our film pays homage to the forgotten civil rights hero, Sarah E. Ray, who forced the integration of Boblo Island back in 1945. Although I had never considered the history of segregation in amusement parks before, this was common practice across the United States. By researching Ray’s story and creating a stop motion sequence for our film, we were able to raise awareness of her legacy. Due to our efforts, her former home was recently chosen by the National Trust for Historic Preservation as one of the “11 Most Endangered” Historic sites in America.

The film also unearths the buried tale of Sugar Island, a former amusement park directly neighboring Boblo Island. It was purchased in 1945 by African Americans to be a “park for their own race.” Although the story of Sugar Island ends tragically in sabotage, true narratives are an imperative step towards genuine reconciliation.

In the end, I hope the film manages to walk an aesthetic and narrative tightrope, accommodating the fondest recollections of Boblo Island while also acknowledging its darker history. Although its main characters may be two old steamboats, it’s really a quintessential American story chock-full of whitewashed histories, a longing for a bygone era and affordable public spaces gobbled up by capitalist greed.