EMMET COUNTY, Mich. – In December 2022, Enbridge, the Canadian fossil fuel giant behind the controversial Line 5 pipeline, signed a real estate agreement transferring two parcels of land near the Straits of Mackinac to Michigan’s Emmet County.
The deal is deceptively simple.
But the land Emmet County received was worth nearly eight times more than the land Enbridge received in return. And still, Enbridge added a $1.5 million inducement to the deal.
One of the parcels had been planned as a staging area for Enbridge’s proposed Great Lakes tunnel, which would carry Line 5, and was subject to federal review by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. Part of that review involved determining whether potential harm would come to historic sites and artifacts.
Although the entire area known as McGulpin Point is one of the most important places for Odawa tribes, by swapping parcels, Enbridge potentially escaped federal review of land that tribes say is likely to have items of cultural significance.
Just west of the iconic Mackinac Bridge are two Enbridge oil pipelines laid in 1953 that span the bottom of the Straits of Mackinac, the 5 mile-wide strip of water separating Lakes Michigan and Huron that is whipsawed by currents unlike anywhere else in the Great Lakes. Mark Hoffman/Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
Both the Army Corps and tribes in the area contend they did not know of the land deal until much later. The county went on to pave over the land with a parking lot in fall 2023.
That move — along with others identified by a Milwaukee Journal Sentinel investigation — may have sidestepped a provision in the National Historic Preservation Act. Further, public records, court filings and emails reviewed by the Journal Sentinel, as well as multiple interviews, reveal how Enbridge leaves tribal officials feeling ignored, and how federal oversight can be manipulated to bypass protections for Indigenous lands.
Tribal officials see the federal review process as insincere — a particularly dismaying situation given they are trying to protect land that is part of their identity.
Tribal consultation is supposed to involve meaningful back and forth, said Mae Wright, tribal historic preservation officer for the Little Traverse Bay Bands of Odawa Indians.
“It’s been anything but that,” Wright said. “These meetings (with the Army Corps) feel like you’re speaking to a wall.”
Enbridge contends that the land swap was unrelated to the Great Lakes tunnel project. In a July 1 email to the Journal Sentinel, Ryan Duffy, a spokesperson for the company, said only that the deal allowed the county to build the parking lot for lighthouse visitors and allowed Enbridge to gain land near its station on the south side of the Straits.
The email said Enbridge “has a proud history of working with many communities along our pipeline system.”
From the beginning, a knot of arguments and litigation
Line 5 carries up to 23 million gallons of oil and natural gas liquids each day from Superior, Wisconsin, through Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, crossing the Straits of Mackinac — which connect Lakes Michigan and Huron — on the lakebed before traveling through Michigan’s Lower Peninsula to refineries in Sarnia, Ontario.
The pipeline’s age, condition and location within the Straits have long been a flashpoint. At the heart of the world’s largest surface freshwater system, it’s been seen as the worst possible place in the Great Lakes for an oil spill, because powerful currents could spread oil in every direction.
Over its more than 75 years, Line 5 has faced multiple risks. Anchor strikes, missing supports and the loss of protective coating all have made it vulnerable.
In 2018, Enbridge proposed the tunnel as a form of secondary containment. To extend Line 5’s life, the 3.6-mile tunnel would be bored into rock as much as 250 feet below the lakebed. The company contends it would nearly eliminate the chance of an incident, making it a much safer option than just leaving the pipeline as is. Enbridge also suggests it would allow tribal members to exercise their treaty rights the same as they do today, but with less chance of a spill.
The pipeline and the tunnel have been the subject of arguments and litigation ever since.
A report released earlier this year by the Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis, an international think tank, suggested shutting down Line 5 might be the most cost-effective move for the oil giant. The tunnel, estimated at $500 million when it was proposed, could now cost triple that, and a proposed reroute of the pipeline in northern Wisconsin — due to a decades-long dispute over crossing tribal land — could add further costs for Enbridge.
A sign opposing the Enbridge Line 5 oil pipeline is shown in front of a home on April 18, 2025, in St. Ignace, Michigan.
On yet another front, Michigan has been attempting to force Enbridge to stop operating in the Straits because of environmental concerns. The U.S. Supreme Court agreed on June 30 to hear Enbridge’s request for a change of venue; the company had appealed a lower court’s decision rejecting its attempt to transfer the case from state to federal court. The Supreme Court is expected to hear the case in the fall.
‘Would you put a pipeline through Arlington National Cemetery or Gettysburg?’
Earlier this year, the Army Corps fast-tracked its permit review process under the Trump administration’s declaration of a national energy emergency. The Army Corps’ Detroit District said it would not eliminate any steps in the review despite its shortened timeframe.
The Enbridge Great Lakes Tunnel Project Information Center is in the heart of St. Ignace, Michigan.
As part of federal review, the Army Corps must determine whether the tunnel project meets federal regulations under the National Environmental Policy Act as well as Section 106 of the National Historic Preservation Act.
In addition to Army Corps approval, the tunnel needs two state permits. The permit issued by the Michigan Public Service Commission is currently being challenged. The second permit, already issued by the Michigan Department of Environment, Great Lakes and Energy, was challenged by the Bay Mills Indian Community, arguing it failed to adequately address environmental and cultural impacts. Enbridge has agreed to reapply for that permit, which was set to expire in 2026.
Indigenous history is so embedded in the Straits region that it’s all but impossible for Enbridge to work there without disturbing or destroying burial sites and culturally important spaces and artifacts, said Eric Hemenway, a descendent of the Little Traverse Bay Bands of Odawa Indians and director of repatriation, archives and records for the tribe.
A marker on the north shore of the Straits of Mackinac indicates where the Enbridge Line 5 pipeline enters the water in St. Ignace, Michigan.
The Straits of Mackinac are rich not only in tribal history, Hemenway noted, but also in early American history.
The Michigan historic preservation office sent a letter to Bay Mills in April 2025 that highlighted the Straits’ eligibility for the National Register of Historic Places. The region contains more than 350 known archaeological sites on land and an estimated 90 shipwrecks or underwater cultural sites, according to the state historic preservation office.
The area was a hub during the fur trade as well as a strategic site during conflicts like the French and Indian War, Pontiac’s War, American Revolution and War of 1812 — events that helped shape the nation.
“Would you put a pipeline through Arlington National Cemetery or Gettysburg?” Hemenway asked.
No matter the circumstances, ‘They are our people’
In mid-April 2025, Hemenway drove south along Lake Michigan to Greensky Hill Indian United Methodist Cemetery in Charlevoix, Michigan, recalling the largest reburial he led for the Little Traverse Bay Bands.
A southern Michigan museum contacted the tribe to return the remains of 60 people — an entire 2,000-year-old village unearthed by road crews in the 1920s and stored in the museum’s basement.
When Hemenway drove home from the museum, his sedan was packed with 40 blue acid-free boxes — some stacked on the dashboard, others on his lap.
The St. Francis Solanus Indian Mission is in Petoskey, Michigan. Built in 1859, it was the first Catholic church in Petoskey. The land the church stands on was sold by Amamwe, an Odawa, to Jean Baptiste Trotochaud and his Ojibwe wife, Sophia Anaquet. The Odawa have utilized this area, and many other areas along Lake Michigan, as a burial ground for their ancestors. The tribe is opposed to the construction by Canadian oil giant Enbridge of a tunnel to carry Line 5.
At the reburial site, one box drew his eye. When he opened it, he found a smaller cigar box inside. Within it lay the carefully reassembled bones of a baby.
Filled with emotion, he paused, thinking of the parents and community members in the other boxes that once grieved the baby. He reburied the baby beneath a birch tree with the others all around it.
It doesn’t matter if they are 50 years old or 2,000, “They are our people,” Hemenway said.
Unearthed bones, claims of hidden information and broken trust
Just three months before Enbridge and the county signed their land swap, bones were uncovered during an environmental review by Enbridge contractors and the Army Corps at a separate location near the Straits. The Journal Sentinel is not specifying the location at the request of tribal officials, due to the risk of looting.
After the discovery on Sept. 2, 2022, an Enbridge security guard contacted the Mackinac County Sheriff’s Office. According to the sheriff’s report, numerous Native American remains have been discovered in the area over the past 50 years. Based on the age of the bones and location of the find, the county medical examiner concluded the remains were likely from an Indigenous grave. The bones were described as very old, flat and small, possibly from a child or small woman.
As part of Section 106 of the National Historic Preservation Act, federal agencies consult with both state and tribal historic preservation officers to determine a course of action if a discovery, such as human remains, occurs.
Whitney Gravelle, president of the Bay Mills Indian Community, explained that the tribes had a plan with the Army Corps and Enbridge for unanticipated discoveries, knowing there was a high likelihood that human remains or artifacts of cultural significance would be found during the survey process.
Whitney Gravelle, president of Bay Mills Indian Community, has been a leader in working to shut down the Enbridge Line 5 oil pipeline.
If an item was found, work would stop, and no other land would be disturbed until tribes were notified.
According to the sheriff’s report, the bones were turned over to Desmond Berry, a member of the Grand Traverse Band of Ottawa and Chippewa Indians. Berry, a former Line 5 opponent, now runs 7th Legacy LLC, a consulting firm that works with Enbridge to coordinate collaboration with tribes.
Tribal historic preservation officers from Bay Mills had warned the Enbridge contractors and Army Corps officials there was an unmarked burial in the area, according to Gravelle. However, the contractors and Army Corps officials did not tell Bay Mills when the discovery was made.
Work continued, with Bay Mills kept in the dark, Gravelle said. It wasn’t until rumors spread that the tribe says it pressed Enbridge and the Army Corps for answers.
Once the discovery was in the open, Enbridge questioned whether the bones were human, and sent them for further testing. An osteological report from Georgia-based New South Associates on Nov. 16, 2022 found that of nine fragments recovered, two were likely non-human. The rest were classified as “indeterminate.”
For the people of Bay Mills, there’s no doubt the remains belong to Indigenous ancestors. The remains were more than 200 years old, near known burial grounds and in an area surrounded by plants typically found near burial sites.
The osteological report also noted a thimble found near the bones. In court filings challenging a permit issued in Michigan, Bay Mills Tribal Historic Preservation Officer Paula Carrick explained that such items are often buried with the deceased for their journey in the afterlife. Some bone fragments also were described as calcined, suggesting exposure to high heat, possibly as part of a funeral ceremony.
The discovery was not isolated. It happened again in November 2023, Gravelle said. At that time, Enbridge notified tribes, but again pushed back against the assumption the bones were human.
Further, the tribe claims the company breached confidentiality required under the Section 106 process by publicly disclosing details about the discovery in the case involving Bay Mills’ challenge to the Michigan permit. The purpose of confidentiality is to prevent vandalism and looting as well as protect sensitive tribal information.
The tribe condemned the company, and reported it to the Army Corps. The Corps took no action, Gravelle said.
Bay Mills then pushed for a separate confidentiality agreement, but the Army Corps responded that because no law requires permit applicants to sign such agreements, they couldn’t be enforced. According to an emailed statement from the Corps to the Journal Sentinel on July 1, it instead entered a memorandum of understanding with Enbridge regarding protection of sensitive information.
According to Gravelle, that left tribes with a difficult choice: Stay involved and risk trusting Enbridge, or withdraw and risk losing a voice in the process.
Enbridge said in an emailed statement to the Journal Sentinel on July 1 it is bound by confidentiality in Section 106 and directed any further questions to the Army Corps.
As Lake Superior wetlands become more vulnerable, tribe fears cultural guideposts could slip away
Along Wisconsin’s northern shores, Line 5 continues to pit tribal culture against Big Oil
A deal that seemed simple. Except it wasn’t.
Tri-State Holdings LLC, Enbridge’s real estate arm, reached out first on the land swap deal.
Tri-State gave the county two properties: one on the shoreline at 6973 David Drive, and another at 360 Headlands Road, across from Mackinaw Station. In return, the county transferred two parcels to Tri-State: 6987 Algonquin Road and 16333 Headlands Road.
The land Tri-State received was valued at $27,000; the land the county received was worth $210,800, according to the real estate agreement.
The county board of commissioners voted on the land swap on Nov. 17, 2022; all of the board members voted yes except for one, and another was listed as excused. The real estate agreement was signed on Dec. 19, 2022.
The land that Tri-State received was outside the federal review process. Enbridge’s other holdings within the construction footprint would still be reviewed, but not the parcels the county took over.
According to the agreement, Enbridge gave Emmet County $1.5 million “as an additional inducement in support of County agreeing to the property exchange.” The agreement explained that the county intended to use that money for improvement projects.
The parcel at 360 Headlands Road has since been cleared and become a parking lot for McGulpin Point Lighthouse, once home to an Odawa village in the 1700s and 1800s, and later the McGulpin family.
A parking lot across from an Enbridge station in Mackinaw City, Michigan. The lot was on land that had been owned by the Canadian oil giant, but was sold in a lopsided deal to Emmet County, Michigan. Tribes in the area believe the land deal was done to avoid a federal review process.
Line 5 runs along the site, and cuts through several surrounding archaeological, burial and historic sites, said Hemenway.
As a part of the real estate agreement, Tri-State provided preliminary information to the county on parking lot design and cost estimates. Emmet County Administrator David Boyer said in a June 23 email to the Journal Sentinel that although Enbridge has an existing easement for Line 5, it was not involved in the construction of the parking lot, and the lot was not intended for Enbridge’s use.
Moreover, Boyer said in the June 23 email that the Line 5 pipeline, several buildings and a driveway already were on the site, which “likely reduced the chances of undisturbed historical artifacts being present.”
In Michigan, as long as federal dollars are not being used, a county is not required to check with the state about sites that may be historically significant, according to Michigan’s historic preservation office.
However, there is a provision in Section 106 that prohibits federal agencies from providing assistance, such as funding or a permit, to applicants who significantly or adversely affect historic properties to avoid the review process.
A federal agency must determine that the applicant intended to avoid review, so in turn, a violation is hard to establish, said Jaime Loichinger, director of the Office of Federal Agency Programs at the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation. Loichinger spoke generally about the review process.
But one of the factors an agency should consider, Loichinger said, is whether the applicant has applied for permits before and is familiar with the federal permitting process. And if the intent was there, she said, the agency should not provide assistance, unless there is rationale to do so, which would require consultation with the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation.
The land swap by Enbridge was one of the final actions that led tribes to withdraw their participation as cooperating agencies in the federal review process for the tunnel project.
“It cemented the fact that no matter how atrocious Enbridge was going to be in the process, the Army Corps wasn’t going to care,” said Gravelle.
The Army Corps said in the emailed statement to the Journal Sentinel that the land swap did not constitute a violation under the National Historic Preservation Act. It also said the building of the parking lot was not under its purview.
The agency “is committed to meaningful and robust consultations with tribal nations in accordance with our process to interact with federally recognized American Indian tribes,” it said in the July 1 email.
Review shows expectations of serious problems. Will it matter?
The Army Corps released a draft of its much-anticipated review in early June, with a final decision expected in the fall.
Because the review process varies case-by-case, Loichinger said, the federal agency has considerable authority in determining whether a project complies with Section 106 and in turn move it forward.
The agency found that the Great Lakes tunnel project will have detrimental effects on water and wetlands, though most of the environmental effects will be short-lived. The project will pose long-term detrimental effects through permanent wetlands loss, and adverse effects to archaeological resources significant to the Anishinaabeg.
A marker for an Enbridge oil pipeline is shown April 17, 2025, in Mackinaw City, Michigan.
The draft review also outlined serious negative impacts to local communities, fisheries, recreation and tourism — a major economic driver that brought in close to $1 billion in 2023 — during the construction process. It mentioned a risk of spill at every stage of construction.
Nevertheless, tribal officials and environmental groups believe it’s a foregone conclusion that the Army Corps will grant Enbridge the permit. Even Enbridge, in the emailed statement to the Journal Sentinel, used the phrase “as we continue to move closer to construction on the Great Lakes tunnel project.”
With the land swap, unanticipated discoveries and controversy concerning confidentiality agreements, Gravelle said, it’s apparent to her the Army Corps doesn’t care about the consequences of the project.
Tribal officials believe the Trump administration’s emergency order has further undermined the process, disrupting and stripping it of any real significance.
What was notably missing in the draft report, opponents say: The dramatic impact on the climate from continued use of fossil fuels, and the impact of Trump-era orders to escalate that use and limit any alternatives. The agency has long said that the use of products carried by the pipeline is outside the scope of its review.
The Army Corps also noted it is not required to consider the effects of a potential leak or spill during the operation of the pipeline, as that falls under the purview of the Pipeline and Hazardous Materials Safety Administration. The Army Corps considers those risks only during construction.
A family walks along the beach in April 2025 in Mackinaw City, Michigan. Behind them is the Mackinac Bridge.
While the Great Lakes tunnel has been pitched as a safer option than leaving Line 5 alone without secondary containment, Gravelle said that’s a narrow and selfish view.
“You’re not thinking about where Line 5 traverses elsewhere in the state, you’re not thinking about those future generations and how that might impact their treaty rights.” Gravelle said.
If the Army Corps approves the permit as expected, all the parties involved will be asked to consider ways to minimize the adverse effects on historic properties.
Bay Mills and other tribes say that would present them with a difficult decision: Dig up their ancestors in advance to prevent them from being bulldozed; remain on-site during construction and hope to intervene; or, do nothing and let them be destroyed.
“Our hands are tied in the most disgusting way possible,” Gravelle said.
The tribe will decide by July 15.
The concerns are about more than just finding pieces of things
For the Anishinaabeg — which include the Odawa, Ojibwe and Potawatomi — burials have been fundamental to their way of life for thousands of years, and deeply tied to the waters flowing through the Straits of Mackinac.
Any elder of any tribe within and around the upper Great Lakes has a teaching related to the Straits, Gravelle said. And for many tribes, their creation story starts right there.
Tribal history isn’t always about discovering pieces — which Hemenway explained is a Western, object-focused view of archaeology.
“It’s the landscape that’s the thing, that’s the tell,” he said.
Unlike Christian beliefs, Hemenway explained, some Anishinaabe believe water is instrumental as they continue their journey. Burials often look out over the shore, reflecting the belief that “home is where the dead lie buried” — a call to protect ancestral lands.
The waters of the Straits are visible from the Enbridge-Emmet County land swap sites, a detail that deeply concerns Hemenway, who has worked on repatriations from land near the parking lot site.
Today, the irreplaceable has become vulnerable
The ice storm that crippled northern Michigan at the end of March served as a stark warning of how irreplaceable pieces of history and sacred spaces can be lost in an instant.
As Hemenway drove back north from Greensky Hill Cemetery, he explained that an inch of ice had enveloped trees and power lines, leaving many people without power and running water for weeks.
Eric Hemenway, archives director with the Little Traverse Bay Band of Odawa Indians, stands among a circle of bent trees that the Odawa made approximately 200 years ago in Charlevoix, Michigan. “This is one of our most culturally and historically sensitive areas,” he said. “This is an area where the Odawa came to hold council meetings and make decisions on the future of the tribe. These are witness trees because they witnessed the Odawa going through incredible change in terms of fighting against Indian removal, establishing treaties, reservations and moving forward through some very difficult times of forced assimilation.”
He stopped in Bay Shore to visit four crooked trees, bent as markers more than 200 years ago by tribal leaders. Roughly 20 of these trees remain across Odawa land, known as the Land of the Crooked Tree — or Waganakising. The Odawa bent trees to mark important sites, such as council or ceremony locations.
Hemenway stepped out of the car and placed his hand on one of the four trees, now splintered into pieces
“I didn’t think anything could hurt them,” he said.
Much of Anishinaabe life — practices, teachings, and ceremonies — is grounded in the natural world. Climate change is pushing the tribe into unfamiliar territory, Hemenway said. Extreme events threaten to destroy what is irreplaceable. Seasonal patterns could distort long-held traditions and the way history is passed down.
Seeing the destroyed crooked tree, Hemenway drew a clear parallel with Line 5: “That could be our water too.”
This story has been updated because an earlier version contained an inaccuracy.
Caitlin Looby covers the Great Lakes and environment for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. Reach her at clooby@gannett.com, follow her on X @caitlooby and learn more about how she approaches her reporting.
This article originally appeared on Milwaukee Journal Sentinel: Enbridge Line 5 tunnel proposal: Tribal consultation gaps revealed