Boat and car traffic are blocked for the Bridge Walk, so we got out of town before it happened
Fifty five degrees this morning, and this is becoming the norm. When it’s barely September, and the 50’s are common, I know it’s time for this goose to fly South.
We left St. Ignace around 8 am. Eight hours and 52 nautical miles later, arrived in Charlevoix.
Not sure what the population of this town is, but it feels bigger than it really is. Many very nice shops, a movie theater, a well stocked grocery, and a marina that gets 5 stars, in our book, make up this little town. Charlevoix became our home for Sunday until Thursday morning, because the winds made Lake Michigan only suitable for the brave and the stupid. We decided there were much worse places to be stuck.
So we shopped, went to the movies, bought groceries, shopped again, ate out, and then went shopping, all while in Charlevoix. The marina cuts their rates in half, beginning Labor Day. I guess they figure anybody still crazy enough to hang around after that deserves a break. And as we watch the good weather days get fewer and farther between, it is easy to understand why people bail. Our goal is to get below Chicago before we go back home for a month, beginning around September 20th.
We had a nice visit with the former owners of our boat. They live about an hour away and had requested that we contact them when we got to their area. It was fun to catch up with them. The boat acquisition was such a nice experience and Larry and Deb, we felt, became friends through the process. I especially enjoyed exchanging stories with Larry about the boat and experiences, now that I am officially an old salt, instead of a wannebe boat owner. Larry has logged way more hours than I probably ever will, so it was good to still pick up some pointers on places to stay and places to be extra careful.
The bridge opening up for us early Thursday morning.
Hoping for fair winds and following seas, we left DeTour Village Marina at 6:30 and headed to St. Ignace. Our smoothest day on the water for quite a while, this 38 plus mile leg seemed to go more quickly.
Looking back on Huron
Looking ahead on Huron
Forecasts call for a day or 2 of somewhat calm seas, and then several days of stronger than normal winds. We’ve been told that Lake Michigan can get pretty angry when the winds get up. Our plan is to enjoy marinas as much as necessary in the coming days because anchoring out options are very limited, not to mention the unpredictability of weather preempts the idea. Marinas along the East coast of Lake Michigan are generally every 20 miles or so, and well protected. This gives boaters an opportunity to tuck in for the unexpected weather pattern changes that make a beautiful boating day turn sour very quickly.
After getting settled into the St. Ignace Marina, we caught a ferry over to Mackinac Island. Sandy, in our buddy boat, has had Mackinac on her bucket list for a long time. Being Labor Day weekend, we soon discovered Mackinac was on many people’s bucket list. Beautiful weather and a long weekend was enough motivation for families to make this their destination for the last weekend of the summer.
We enjoyed a carriage ride tour of the island with our guide, Paul, from Transylvania (Romania)! Many attempts at humor and a couple times successful, we learned that Mackinac has many lilac trees, 72 varieties. Also, there is 1 doctor on the island, and 4 veterinarians. Paul said it’s better to a horse than a person on Mackinac (and the crowd roared with laughter). The governor of Michigan has her summer home here and is known to be friendly to all the common folks as they tour. We did not see her, nor get invited in for tea.
Arch Rock, as it is known, is made from limestone, like the entire island. Experts say that wind and water erosion will eliminate this formation in less than 50 years.
Fancy barn. Not large enough to keep all the horses used for transportation on the island, however.
After finishing the carriage tour and carriage museum, we were dropped at the Grand Hotel. Three hundred plus rooms, the 600’ long porch was quite spectacular. A fancy party on the 2nd level kept us commoners on the ground level, admiring the high class cocktail and evening dresses, wondering what the life of the rich and famous is all about.
“Peg” (aka Amanda), on the right, takes in the spectacular Grand Hotel.
The long day was starting to take its toll on my peg-legged partner, so we caught a carriage taxi from the hotel back to the launch point for the water ferry.
The water ferries throw huge rooster tails as they transit to and from the mainland. Not sure why, unless it’s fun, or so they can be seen more easily by other boat traffic.
After disembarking, we stopped at the Driftwood Grille, had dinner, and caught a shuttle back to the boat. I watched Auburn come from behind to squeak out a win over the Oregon Ducks, and 30 seconds later, I was out like everybody else. We packed as much into this day as possible.
Having planned a 50-plus mile day, we again rose early for a 6 am departure. The winds, we knew, were picking up as the day wore on, so the early rise increased our odds of missing the worst. We drove around Drummond Island from the anchorage, passed by DeTour Village Marina (DeTour Channel) and stuck our nose into Lake Huron, saying goodbye to the North Channel. At the risk of redundancy, the North Channel is clearly the most beautiful landscape of our journey. Whether you do the The Great Loop or not, the North Channel is a worthy destination, not just a passage. We have met so many folks from the North (Canada and USA) who spend their summers here. The open sea, the winding pathways, the many little townships and villages, and the coves that provide safe harbor from the winds truly have opened our eyes to another part of the country that is to be enjoyed and treasured.
Back to the story….we stuck our nose into Lake Huron, headed West toward St. Ignace, Michigan. With winds from the Southwest already at 10-15 mph, we were rocking pretty good (badly is proper grammar). The forecast called for the winds to increase. Two miles westbound and we made a U-turn and found our way to DeTour Village Marina. Over the next 4-5 hours, we saw the marina pick up another half dozen boats. Each was sticking their nose into Huron, U-turning, and coming back to avoid the elements. With the wind forecast only getting uglier, we determined to stay 2 nights and enjoy the R & R.
Our push had been to get to St. Ignace, where the medical center had received orders from Amanda’s orthopedic doctor for a foot X-ray . He had allowed us to go back to the boat and resume our journey on the pretense that he see the healing process in 7-10 days. With that time now at its end, I was concerned about getting the X-ray, being stuck for 2 more days. DeTour Village is..well, a village. No car rental places or taxis or Ubers in the area. With St. Ignace 50 miles away, I knew Dale’s bicycle, with Amanda on my back was not a practical solution. So, Amanda goes to work, doing what she does best. Laying on her southern drawl a little thicker (just imagine Scarlet O’hara talking) , she starts asking local boaters in the marina, “Excuse me, suh (sir). Is there a place around here we might could rent a car? I’ve a broken foot and must get an X-ray by tamarra.” On attempt number 2, Bill Merrill, sailboater, had tossed us the keys to his Marquis, saying, “I don’t need it today. I’m glad for you to borrow it.” A few hours later, we were back, with X-rays and a scouting report of St. Ignace behind us. Now if we can get a favorable report from the orthopedic guy, the concern for surgery will be off the table.
I’ve probably mentioned this before, but we have found that most of these Loopers like to have a good time. Docktails, as opposed to cocktails, are a very big part of the lives of this group. Somewhere around 5 pm, most days, there are boaters getting together. Each brings his own libation and a little something to munch on and share. As predicted, someone dropped by the boat and said, “Docktails at 5 under the pavilion!” A little later, I noticed Bill (car loan Bill) walking to his boat with a banjo case in hand. I asked him what kind of music he played. He said a little of everything, but he liked Bluegrass. I asked him to bring it to docktails and I would bring my guitar. Shortly after, I mentioned to Hal (he and Daneen are on the Living in Awe trawler) that we were having live “entertainment” tonight. He said, “I will bring my mandolin.”
Hal, Bill, & Wes. A weak attempt at a bluegrass band, but we had a bunch of fun trying.
Instantly, we had a 3-piece bluegrass band….of instruments, anyway. Hal had some songbooks, including gospel and bluegrass. So, we ended up having a jam session while everybody else, ate, drank, and sang along when they could figure out what song we were playing. We made a memory with new friends and had a great time playing together. Looking forward to reconnecting with Hal (mandolin) as we are traveling the same journey.
As we were wrapping up the concert, a storm blew in. Pretty good rain and wind came and went just as fast. But it left behind a double rainbow that we were able to see both ends.
What a view, eh? (the only Canadian I learned–eh?)
August 30
Laundry and minor boat piddling projects consumed the better part of Friday. Dale and I rode bikes for a bit and then we all (about 16 folks) gathered at the Main Sail restaurant for dinner. With a total of only 20 people in the restaurant, the waitress announced to us that with this many people, not all of us will be served at the same time. We just need to understand that. I wonder why the place wasn’t just packed with people. Most of the Loopers just told her that as long as they had plenty of alcohol, getting the food at the same time was not critical. With average service and just below average food, we left full. We scooted Amanda back to the boat, Dale and I fined tuned our routing for Saturday, and we crashed for the night.
Shooting for a 6 am exit, we pulled out at first light, about 6:15 and headed to Drummond Island.
We have heard rumors of ghosts and ghost ships in these waters. Pretty believable.
Drummond is the first location back in the USA. The water was pretty rough because winds were above what sea wimps like to see. But we have seen worse and made it to our anchorage without any significant event. We were able to check back into the USA by phone, saving us a stop at the marina on the way to our parking spot for the night.
Crossing the Canadian border into USA waters.
Today’s journey.
On Missions and Honey Queen dropped anchors and Dale took a snooze for a while. A couple hours later, Amanda asked me if I thought Dale’s boat had moved since anchoring. Sitting with my back turned to their boat, I turned and realized their boat had dragged the anchor for probably a half mile. Fortunately, the wind had favored the best direction to be blown and he had not met anything or anyone while dragging. He realized his situation as I was about to call him. He moved his boat to our side and tripled his scope (amount of chain/rode let out) to ensure he would be secure the rest of the night. With my mischievous mindset, I started to ease our boat forward about 100 yards and re-anchor, just to play with Dale’s mind, but I resisted. He had had enough excitement for the day. But it has been fun razzing him. I know my turn is coming. The winds died down for the night, so we slept pretty well without any real stressers.
We left South Benjamin Island this morning around 8 am. With 40 miles ahead of us, we knew we were in for a breezy day. The weather forecast calls for rain and lots of wind in the 20’s plus. We set our goal for Meldrum Bay Marina. By the time we arrived, winds were exceeding 30 knots. Fortunately, the seas weren’t as dicey as we have seen, being only 1-2 feet. Days like this, we really enjoy the stabilizers on our boat that are quite effective “flattening” out rough water. Arriving at the dock was a handful, fighting the wind and backing into a slip.
The winds were almost a match for the engine when docking. See gauge.
We made it to safe harbor.
There was plenty of room in the marina since the weekend was over, and the season is drawing to a close for this part of the country. Soon, this whole area will be one solid block of ice, they tell us. This Southern boy will gladly miss all that. We settled in, met Jim and Cindy from Cheboygan, Wisconsin, who are spending a few weeks exploring some of the North Channel waters we have just enjoyed. Jim was a refreshing reminder of how steep the learning curve is on the boat. Dale and I were telling them stories and places to go, as if we have been doing this for years. For example, today was their first time to go “stern in” into a marina. That seems so routine now, but just 4 months ago, stern in was like asking me to step into a viper pit. How I empathize with their anxiety. Soon they will be looking forward to things that today they dread. It’s amazing, after now logging a few hundred hours, how the boat seems to anticipate what I am trying to do, when just a few weeks ago, I would literally lay awake at night, mentally practicing maneuvers, hoping I wouldn’t crash my boat or someone else’s. I still pray a lot before docking.
We decided to pay for 2 nights at the marina and see what happens in the forecast for Wednesday. Tuesday will be ugly. Though the girls are more vocal about being off the water when the forecast is dismal, we guys are glad to have a day off from the stress of plotting the trip, dodging the rocks, and keeping plenty of water under the keel. Tuesday will allow me to get the blog updated with all the pictures I’ve been taking. In closing today’s thoughts, we reached our Northernmost point today. Though most of the day was Westbound, we did start the descent Southerly. The North Channel will soon be in our rear view mirror, along with the country of Canada. In some ways, it felt like we would always be headed away from home, but today’s milestone is a reminder that heading toward home sounds like a pretty good idea. We continue to love every minute (maybe not EVERY minute) of the adventure, and look forward to many more sites and new friendships.
August 27
Tuesday morning: blog and laundry. The day started pretty windy, as was most of last night. We slept fine, but the boat moved almost constantly, with 4 lines tied to the finger dock. I did much of the routine maintenance in the engine room while Amanda sewed, making netting to fit over the hatches. The nets will allow us to have the hatches open and keep the mosquitoes out. But at the rate the temperatures keep dropping around here, the nets may not see action before next Spring. The marina was nice, and we were grateful to have a place to tuck in, but when there’s a $5.00 charge for a shower, I give the place 1 star. The general store was pretty lacking and the laundry overpriced, so it was not our greatest experience.
Tuesday evening we had dinner at the Meldrum Inn. With our new friends and our old friends, we gathered around the table and shared an evening of good food and getting acquainted.
The restaurant and inn owners (she, the hostess and waitress, and he, the chef) treated us with kindness and hospitality. Of Iranian descent, she shared a “potion” for Amanda to use on her foot. She gave us turmeric to mix with ground chick peas and egg yolk. She also prescribed that Amanda drink plenty of bone broth. I’m glad my bones are not broken. She took our picture so we could all remember this experience.
Tomorrow, the weather looks promising, so we are West bound to Drummond Island.
The Pool was all we had been promised. Again, nice neighbors, quiet, protected water’s ensured a good night’s sleep. I dinghyed (add this to your dictionary) around the bay, visited with a young couple from Cincinnati on their sailboat, and pulled up anchor. The weedy bottom slowed the process of pulling up anchor slightly. Not much fun when that stuff wraps around the anchor chain, and even less when it creeps over the pulpit onto your boat. Our boat is long overdue for a good bath. Lots of miles under this old girl now, and she’s not shining like she was when we bought her in December.
From The Pool to Little Current to South Benjamin Island.
The entrance to Little Current.
Just prior to Little Current, we came to our first bridge in several weeks. This bridge opens on the hour and only then, so if you miss it, you get to wait another hour.
Swinging just past our bow
Little Current rail bridge
We arrived in plenty of time and then eased on into the town docks where we needed to get fuel, water, and groceries. With a fairly long walk to the grocery, Amanda scooted and hobbled to and from. But it is still slow going for her and will be till the healing is complete. We spent a little over 3 hours in Little Current for our provisioning stop. Our destination of South Benjamin Island now only 16 miles away. While fueling, we met Tammi and Ethan at the town docks, who were going the same direction. She grew up in Alabama and they are avid Crimson Tide fans. We decided being nice was the right thing to do, despite their fan loyalty. Their boat, The Liberty, is a 29′ Ranger Tug. They joined us on this leg to our anchorage. We look forward to fun times with them, as football season kicks off.
Formations like this were on 3 sides, ensuring we would be fine during the night.
The wind was pretty brisk out there in the Bay.
Though a little windy during the night, we were safe from the more aggressive winds just a few hundred yards from the boat. I slept well, Amanda didn’t.
Fifty-four degrees woke me this morning, instead of my “normal” alarm. The coolest we’ve seen yet, as we approach the Northernmost point of our journey. We traveled 32 miles by water, but only about 6-7 miles, as the crow flies, as our journey U-turned from one anchorage to the next. We traveled from Thomas Bay to Baie (bay) Fine (pronounced fin), through Killarney, the gateway to the Northern Channel and anchored at the infamous Pool. Killarney was particularly colorful, with small homes, little shops, a lodge, a few marinas, and even a general store.
The Pool, like many, is protected by high walls of granite. The ride from Killarney to the Pool was as spectacular as the destination itself. A very popular spot of the locals during the summer, we expected many boats on this gorgeous Saturday. Good fortune was with us and with just a handful of boats, we enjoyed plenty of room to spread out and swing on our anchor.
After Dale and I anchored our boats, moved our boats, and re-anchored our boats, we were ready for an adventure. Sandy with a headache and Amanda with a broken foot, GUY TIME finally happened. This phenomenon is interesting. I have learned that guy time always comes just in time for guys. However, for the wives, it’s usually 2 days past due. Whatever, Dale and I were excited about the hike opportunity just a short dinghy-ride away. I picked up Dale and off we went. The adventure was to climb to the top of the mountain (maybe a hill, but I claim writer’s privilege) to Lake Topaz. Our Canadian friends had told us this was a “must do” and, by all means, go swim in the lake. “It will change your life!”, I was told. We climbed the rugged trail, virtually impassable by the average person and there, before our eyes, was a mediocre little lake with lots of weeds and lily pads. Not discouraged, and wanting my life changed, I dove in, swam a few minutes, and realized life really had not changed. I threw my shirt and shoes back on and we headed back down the mountain, disappointed in the experience.
Along the way, we ran into 3 high school kids coming from a side trail. One was on crutches with a cast on his foot. I asked for his picture to show Amanda that a broken foot should never discourage a brisk hike. I told them we had swum in Topaz but they told me they had just come from there and had not seen me. After brief directions from them, along with the concern that I may have been swimming in the local sewerage treatment plant, we took off to the real Lake Topaz. No more disappointment! This lake was gorgeous, crystal clear, and free of all lily pads. So, donning “most” clothing, I dove in again and my life was changed. Well maybe not, but it was a thrilling experience.
This guy hobbled to Lake Topaz for the swim.
The beauty….
I felt just like the models in the swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated.
You can see my toes through the water, so I decided to leave the swimsuit on.
Not a selfie kind of guy, but had to do this.
After getting back to the boat, Dale and Sandy brought dinner over, and we pigged out on ribs, green beans, red rice, and Dale’s famous homemade cornbread. We threw a little Sweetwater Honey on the cornbread, and topped off the night with blueberry cobbler. With the perfect weather, the scenery, and the friends, I can honestly say we haven’t had this much fun since…oh, maybe yesterday?
We get so many compliments on our boat. There are not many like ours in this part of the world, compared to the South. She’s been good to us and we are blessed to have her.
This ancient Indian totem pole sculpture was amazingly detailed. They worshiped this thing as one of their many gods.
Actually, I made that last caption up. This is a rock formation behind our boat at the Pool. I turned the picture.
As the day dawned, the fog slowly lifted from the water. A nice young couple from Cincinnati were on this sailboat. One doesn’t have to wait until he is old to chase his dream.
The days are starting to sound the same, as I write. Beautiful anchorage, nice folks, sunrises that take your breath away. I write so I can retain the memory of each place, to relish the fresh air, and cool clear waters. We enjoy our friends, the Collins’, whose core values we share, who laugh with and at many of the same things we do, and who, between the 4 of us, make a pretty decent crew.
This day’s travel was from Strawberry Island to Thomas Bay (34 miles). A protected anchorage that our friends Randy and Audrey said we should not miss. We arrived early enough to get there before anyone else, so we had our choice of boat positions for anchoring. Being the early bird puts the stress and responsibility on the late comers, who must be certain to anchor where their boat won’t swing into ours. The route was a bit tricky for us because we had to veer off the marked channel for the first time. Slowly, noting the water depths to ensure we did not have a casual encounter with granite, we found our way. It was an uneventful arrival, my favorite kind.
But the highlight of this day had to be the trek through Collins’ Inlet. I hope you enjoy these half as much as I did (and do). I realize many of them look the same.
Surrounded by high rock granite walls on both sides, left me with a dry mouth, as it was wide open for 4 miles. I wish my photographic skills did justice to this beauty. Since we first started talking about the doing “The Loop”, seasoned travelers have said, “Wait till you get to the Georgian Bay.” We were not disappointed.
A peak through the trees at the Honey Queen.
Looking South across Georgian Bay
I need a geologist to explain these rock formations.
Dale pondering Who put these rocks here.
The water is so clear
Such interesting landscapes as we have traveled North, and now West, have pulled us into the scene. Each area has its own flavor and attraction.
Thomas Bay Anchorage; not a bad view, capping off a day of more beauty than we can comprehend.
Today was a 40-miler. Longer than normal and not quite as much fun as the normal 25-30 mile days. Today’s “stresser” was the tight waterways that are so rocky. There are places where the view is so deceiving, it is difficult to tell if you are looking at rough water or a rock formation on your proposed route. As everybody knows, when your boat fights with rocks, the boat always loses.
God chose this evergreen to shine His spotlight on first today.
My friend, Dale, was a basket case when we arrived at our anchorage. I thought it was pretty fun, but I had no confrontations below the waterline. The channels are well marked, but sometimes they can confuse the rookie navigator. My SOP now, when confused, is to go to neutral, assess, and proceed with caution. Since we’re usually running only 7 knots, there is usually time to evaluate most situations well in advance. It is always good to have my navigator beside me at the helm, questioning situations that are precarious. She follows on paper charts what I am reading on the chart plotter. We usually argue no more than 3-4 times per day about the proper direction.
The winds take their toll on tree growth
This was one of the tightest spots. Going so close to shore, your instincts say “No, no!”
Lots of wind generators in this area.
Three lighthouses help mark 3 channels for ship traffic
Acknowledging that pictures start looking the same on the website, I continue to be amazed at the beauty, hoping to retain some of the memory of these many natural formations.
Relieved and fried from the rock-dodging day, we slipped into the anchorage on the South side of Strawberry Island, logging another 40 miles. Dale and I both did bow and stern anchors as the forecast called for a little wind, but also a few other boats were near, so we took precautions. I have learned why boaters go to bed so early. Days like today are fun, but do pull on your mental faculties. Lights out 9:00 pm.
We pulled out of Echo Bay and stretched our day to catch our friends, Dale and Sandy. Obviously desperate for friendship, they had decided to just hang out on the hook until we knew for sure whether we would make it back after Amanda’s injury.
Canoe channel. About as wide as the boat. Guess that’s why they didn’t name it Trawler Channel.
Exploring from the dinghy
The typical lighthouses throughout this region.
We caught them at Stairs Island. After a brief reunion, we jumped in our dinghies and drove to the combo hardware and grocery store for a few supplies.
Crip keeps her eye on our purchases while we shop inside. The cart came in handy for hauling Honey back to the dinghy. Sorry, no picture available.
Our start and finish points for the day.
After getting lost only once on the return trip, we put our heads together, plotted our route for tomorrow. Assuming I was done for the night, a little wind came up and pulled my stern loose from the shore because of my poor tying job. So I had to get another anchor, and with my partner, Dale, in his dinghy, the Honey Queen was reset, ensuring a safe night in the harbor. There is no substitute for a buddy boat (not to mention the buddy himself). The silver lining to this inconvenient experience was the sky. After all was settled, I went back outside to check lines, lights, position of boat, loose ends, etc. that may interrupt my sleep. The sky was exploding with stars. In this secluded place, without a cloud above, I saw the Milky Way, for the first time in my life, from horizon to horizon. How does one look at this massive sky and not acknowledge the Creator’s Master Design? I was reminded of a song I learned in church choir during high school, that I can still sing every verse ….
In the stars His handiwork I see. On the wind He speaks with majesty. Still He came to set His people free; what is that to me? Till by faith I met Him face to face, and I felt the wonder of His grace. Then I knew that He was more than just a God Who didn’t care, that lived a way out there…
The privilege of this experience humbles me. The gift of the trip, nature, and the relationships gained. All change perspective.
