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Destination: Isle Royale
by Sam Huonder
Since Jim and I got our first boat on
Lake Superior in 2004 we have
talked about sailing to Isle Royale. Isle
Royale is a US National Park in the state
of Michigan and is the largest island on
Lake Superior at 45 miles long and 9
miles wide. Isle Royale is surrounded by
hundreds of islands, isles, bays and harbors.
While Jim and I have completed
shorter passages of 60 miles or so, Isle
Royale, at around 120 miles from our
home cruising grounds remains to be
conquered and by August of 2008 we
were ready. We joined up with two other
boats from our marina and made our
preparations. On August 14 we were
ready. Emmanuel, our 1995 Hunter
Legend 40.5 was full of provisions, water
and fuel. After a short skipper's meeting
on Saturday with the crew and skippers of
ZaBreNa and Montebelau at the Pike's
Bay Clubhouse and a top off at the fuel
dock we were on our way. It was 10:30 in
the morning and the sky was clear and the
breeze nonexistent. As we exited Pike's
Bay, our home port, Jim throttled up to
about 2800 rpm, a comfortable cruising
speed for Emmanuel and we all settled
back to enjoy the ride. By 2:30 p.m. we
had cleared Outer Island and were rapidly
leaving the Apostle Islands and our
flotilla behind. The day was still sunny
and warm and we were all comfortable in
shorts and t-shirts. Our crew, Ray and
Jolene Boyd had sailed with us before but
not on Emmanuel so we spent some time
making sure they knew were important
things were like the safety gear, thru
hulls, flashlights and my cinnamon
babka. It was around this time that Ray
presented me with a present he had
bought for me. My very own head lamp!
One of the best seats on Emmanuel
is the bow pulpit seat. Late in the afternoon
I was comfortably ensconced there
while we continued under power through
a perfectly calm lake. Off in the distance
I could see a freighter in the shipping
lane heading to the Upper Peninsula.
Looking ahead I could not see any shore
line and looking behind the Apostle
Islands had disappeared and I realized
that now I was committed. For just a
moment I quailed at the prospect of continuing.
I am at best a reluctant adventurer
and I wasn't sure I was up to the challenge.
A burst of laughter from the cockpit
and I turned to see Ray, Jim and
Jolene smiling happily and I felt comforted.
I turned back to the lake and
watched its placid face as the distance
slid by Emmanuel's hull. The bow wake
chuckled happily to itself but I knew better
than to let myself be lulled by its
banality. The Lake is a lady of many
moods and I knew this wouldn't last.
By early evening the crew is getting
hungry so I got busy in the galley and
within a short while everyone is tucking
into steaming bowls of my homemade
beef stew. By 8:00 p.m. dusk is
approaching and we get set to watch a
fabulous sunset and are not disappointed.
It is clear to us all by this time that
we are going to be making landfall in
the dark since we hugely underestimated
our speed under motor. By 9:00 p.m.
we are less than 20 miles from the
entrance to Grace Harbor and we discuss
our options. We could alter course
and head north to Rock Harbor but that
way we miss rendezvousing with the
flotilla. We could stand off until first
light but that means a minimum of 5
hours close to a rocky shore. While we
know it's risky we elect to make our
entrance in the dark.
By 10:00 p.m. we are under sail
because the wind has now cranked up
over 15 knots and the seas have
increased. We are broad reaching toward
Isle Royale and the Rock of Ages Light
is clearly visible. Since we have such a
short distance to go we are not standing
watches and everyone is in the cockpit
with lifejackets, harnesses and tethers on.
I am sitting on the windward rail and
marveling at what it's like to be crossing
this lake at night. While Jim and I sailed
quite often at night on White Bear Lake
and we have on occasion returned to the
marina late after being out in the islands
all day this is different. We are lucky
enough to have a full moon and it hangs
there, just above the horizon, large and
otherworldly looking. It lights a broad
path on the dark, rushing lake. The
waves build and I can hear them before I
see them. The waves hit Emmanuel on
her stern quarter then hissing, slide down
her hull, their white foamy tops, clearly
visible in the moonlight, passing just
below the gunwales. I turn to glance at
the rest of the crew. Ray's face is lit by
the electronic glow of the chartplotter
while he and Jim are telling each other
stories and Jolene dozes in the companionway,
with her head wedged against
the halyard winch.
At about 11:30 p.m. CT Jim calls for
the sails to be doused. He fires up the
Yanmar and turns Emmanuel into the
wind and Ray and I realize we are in for
it. The wind is screaming through the rigging
and we are now bow on to seas that
are easily 6 feet. I clip on my tether and
make my way forward. I say a silent
thank you to Jim because I am so grateful
we had our new UK Stack Pak installed
this year. Wrestling a 900 square foot
mainsail down the mast is never easy but
having our Stack Pak makes collecting
the beast a lot easier. However, tonight it
means I still have to go up the mast
because the wind is keeping the headboard
pinned about 10 feet above the
boom. Emmanuel's bow is rising and
falling on the steep waves and I have a
death grip on her mast. One particularly
violent drop throws me backward while
for one second my hands are busy trying
to undo the shackle on the headboard. I
grab the mast in time but my heart is
pounding. In between the bucking and
heaving I manage to pull the sail down
the rest of the way and stuff it in the Stack
pak. I climb down and make my way
back to the cockpit on shaky legs. Just as
I get back to the cockpit I hear a flapping
noise at the same time I hear a cry from
Jolene. I turn towards the bow and realize
that the headsails furler line had worked
its way loose and the jib is now unrolling.
Ray jumps on the line and starts rolling
the sail back in but because of the pressure
on the sail he cannot roll the last bit
in and it is enough to pull the bow over.
So this time both Ray and I clip back in
and make our way forward with bungees
in hand. On our knees we work on securing
the sail but every time the bow falls
Ray and I go airborne which makes wrapping
up the jib a challenge. When it is
finally secure we both pause before heading
back to the cockpit again and as I
work my way down starboard I hear Ray
whooping every time Emmanuel buries
her bow again. The maniac is having a
great time. Now that we are somewhat
under control Jim, at the helm, has to
carefully time turning Emmanuel off the
wind to keep us from getting swamped.
Once we have the wind behind us we fly
toward the Grace Harbor entrance and by
midnight central we are in the lee of
Cumberland Point. We all take a deep
breath and I am starting to relax when I
realize that the shore around us looks
really rocky. Luckily the full moon lights
our way somewhat but Ray and Jim are
watching the chartplotter intently. Pretty
soon Jim puts Ray on the helm and heads
forward with a spotlight. We are looking
for the passage between Washington
Island and Grace Island and it seems that
we are on the right course when trying to
sneak through a narrow channel we
zagged when we should have zigged and
we are aground. I feel the dreaded bump
of hull on rock while I am on the bow
starting to pull the anchor rode out of the
anchor locker. I race back to the cockpit
while uttering some very unladylike
words. Of course I am frantic but Jim and
Ray are as calm as always. I look at the
depth meter and see our depth is showing
as 3 ft. This causes another outburst from
me. Jim instructs me firmly to sit down
and be calm. We are in no danger at the
moment. Bump bump. Emmanuel bobs
gently on the rocks we are sitting on. Jim
takes the helm from Ray and tries to drive
her off but no luck. The wind is coming
straight on our nose and the shallow
water we are in is getting choppy. Jim
continues to try to work us loose but we
are firmly stuck. Even in the midst of my
overwhelming feeling of impending
doom I can't help but notice how awesomely
beautiful this place is. The moonlight
paints the entire scene with a soft
silvery glow that lets me see that we are
stuck on the point of either Washington or
Barnum Island. The wind blows gently
and the channel we are facing glitters in
the moonlight. Jolene and I move as we
are directed hoping our weight shift will
help but it does not. Jim and Ray talk
about putting the dinghy in to try to kedge
off but after a bit Jim turns the helm over
to Ray with instructions to "drive it like
you stole it". By now the wind has picked
up a bit and Emmanuel is rising and
falling in the short waves. Ray finds the
rhythm and throttles quickly when the
waves lift the bow slightly and all of the
sudden we are free. Jolene and I are
whooping and hollering and jumping up
and down. We run back to the cockpit and
jump up and down some more and hug
the boys and then we are on our way
again, carefully. Within about 2 boat
lengths we are back in 60 feet of water
and Ray marvels aloud that it's a stupid
place for a rock pile. We quickly find our
way to a sheltered spot in about 16 feet of
water behind Barnum Island and we get
the anchor down and set. I sit on deck for
a few minutes while the rest of the crew
heads below. I can see that the shoreline
is heavily wooded and the full moon casts
its silvery light over our safe haven.
When I turn and look to starboard I can
see the channel opening to the lake but
we are quite protected. I join the rest of
the crew below and realize that it is now
about 1:30 am and everyone is way too
wired to sleep. I make some hot cocoa
and slice up some babka and pretty soon
the adrenaline wears off and everyone is
sleepy enough to head for bed. I fall into
a deep sleep but wake after a couple of
hours because the wind has come up. I
pad barefoot through the cabin and stick
my head out the companionway and see
Isle Royale at first light. It is an overcast
morning and the wind has piped up but
our anchorage is still fairly quiet so I go
back to bed. A couple of hours later I
wake again with another wind increase
and now it's about 7 a.m. I grab a jacket
and the camera on my way to the cockpit.
After a few minutes Jim joins me and we
talk quietly. It has started raining but we
are staying dry under the bimini. We are
both awestruck by the scene around us.
The channel to Windigo is visible as are
Grace Island and Thompson Island.
Pretty soon Ray and Jolene are up
and we have a leisurely breakfast. By
mid-morning we hear a hail from
ZaBreNa and find out she is at Windigo
dock along with Montebelau. Within a
half hour we have the anchor up and are
motoring down Windigo channel. When
we arrive we find space for Emmanuel on
the leeward side of the dock so Jim
coaches Ray on how to land her. I throw
a bowline to Bill who makes it snug on
the bollard and then Ray puts her in
reverse which lets her stern swing over to
land her gently against the dock. We manage
to pull off this impressive bit of boat
handling in front of a ferry full of passengers
who, I tell myself, are suitably
impressed. We smile like we do this all
the time. We spend the next hour or so
chatting with Dick, Joe and Bill from
Montebelau and with Dave, Jim, Bill and
Al from ZaBreNa. We trade stories about
our crossing and what happened and what
we did. There is lots of laughter and while
everyone is visiting I nip below and fill a
platter with brownies and cookies and
take it back up to the hungry crews. By
lunchtime ZaBreNa and Montebelau cast
off but we decide to stay the night. We
spend the rest of the day exploring
Windigo, picking wild raspberries and
thimbleberries and checking out the visitor
center which is really cool. It is a very
modern place and has lots of displays of
the local fauna and vegetation. There are
full scale displays of moose and wolf,
which I find fascinating. There is also a
Fresnel lens, which came from the Rock
of Ages Lighthouse. There is a large
selection of books and charts and Ray
buys and makes me a present of a new
chart of Isle Royale since mine is at home
in the basement. For dinner we have fresh
Lake Superior whitefish fillets. I place
the fillets on pieces of foil then drizzle
them with butter and sprinkle with salt
and pepper. I top them with slices of fresh
lemon. These packets go on the grill
along with skewers of fresh vegetables I
have marinated in olive oil and herbs. It
doesn't take long for the feast to disappear.
After dinner Ray takes the dinghy
out for a row and I wander the dock visiting
with the neighbors. It's funny but I get
a lot of comments on Emmanuel since I
am talking mostly to fishing boats and
small power cruisers. We are easily the
largest vessel at the dock and people
seem fascinated by her size. Eventually I
end up sitting at the end of the dock
drinking coffee. The evening light is
breathtakingly golden and the perfectly
calm waters of Windigo Harbor gleam in
the approaching dusk as nightfall comes
softly.
On Sunday morning Jim decides we
need to top off the water tanks. This turns
out to be quite an undertaking since it
involves moving the boat, borrowing
hose and running it about 100 feet up a
hill. Jolene and I leave it to the men to figure
it out and we head to the showers to
wash our hair. By the time we get back
Jim is satisfied that the tanks are full and
soon we are on our way. Jim hands the
helm to Ray and then they discuss our
exit. Ray keeps an eye on the chartplotter
and Jolene reads the paper chart. Jim and
I are on bow watch and we sneak past
Grace and Washington Island. I watch
with trepidation as we creep through 7-9
foot depths while passing some really
nasty looking boulders but we manage
and soon we are out of the harbor and
rounding Cumberland Point. There is a
slight breeze so we hoist the main but it
dies off within the hour so we are back to
motoring but it is no great penance for it
is a another stunner of a day. Clear blue
skies, lots of sun and very pleasant temps.
The lake has only a slight chop and manages
to appear friendly as we motor north
along Isle Royales southern shore. Our
next waypoint is Houghton Point and we
have it in sight by lunchtime. We round it
and soon find ourselves in Siskiwit Bay.
Lunch that day is my homemade chicken
salad and we all eat in the cockpit and let
Otto do the steering. By now the breeze
has freshened and we are flying along
with the wind on our quarter on the main
only while the crew happily eats lunch. A
couple of chicken jibes later we are
beginning our approach to Malone Bay.
Jim is on the helm and Jolene calls out the
course from the chart. After locating and
passing through the first set of channel
markers we turn to starboard and head for
the next set that will take us into Malone
Bay. After passing through the channel
we start to head to Malone Bay dock but
it is already occupied so instead we make
our way to Malone Island. The water is
deep but we are able to creep in close to
shore and get the anchor down in about
15 feet of water. Malone Island gives us
excellent protection for everything but
northwest but with the wind blowing
pretty steady out of the southeast we are
quite comfortable. Once the anchor is
down Jim lowers the dinghy off the davits
and we are ready to head to shore. Once
we leave the protection of Malone Island
we get the full force of the 12-15 knot
breeze as we head for the Malone Bay
dock. There is a one foot chop in the bay
and Jim has his hands full not flipping the
dinghy. We all get a little wet but that is
the worst of it. Once ashore we are able to
quickly locate the trailhead to Siskiwit
Lake. The well worn path takes us along
the shore and then cuts to the right. It is
not a long way and soon we are climbing
a small hill and when we get to the top of
it, there it is. Siskiwit Lake; a lake in the
middle of an island in the middle of a
lake. We all stand there marveling at it.
The shore is pebbly and the lake lies
there, blue and peaceful, in the afternoon
sun. We wander the shore and we take
some pictures. A bit more exploring and
we find the Siskiwit River. This little
river tumbles out of Siskiwit Lake and
runs cheerfully over a small waterfall. It
was a strange feeling to stand at the shore
of the river and look up to Siskiwit lake.
The elevation difference is quite marked
and is a surprise to me.
Eventually we wander back to the
trail and make our way to the dinghy.
Another harey ride across the bay and we
are back aboard Emmanuel. By this time
it is late afternoon so I put together some
appetizers to quiet the growling stomachs.
I mix up my spicy pepper jam with
cream cheese and we eat it on crackers
and chips. We all sit in the cockpit in the
warm sun and smile smugly at each other.
Other than a couple of campers ashore we
have not seen another soul since we left
Windigo Harbor early that morning.
Everywhere we look is beauty that makes
you heart hurt and your throat tighten.
That is until Jim decides it's time to take
a shower, right off the stern. The rest of us
are too comfortable to move so we stay
where we are and Ray and Jolene carefully
avert their eyes. By the time Jim is
done with his shower everyone is yawning
so we all head for our bunks for a
short nap. Dinner is late in the evening
and my marinated lamb chops grilled just
until done and served with a reduced
glaze of honey, garlic and balsamic vinegar
and fresh green beans is a perfect end
to a perfect day.
Much later, after the dishes are done
we dig out the charts and our cruising
guide and discuss our plans for the next
day. We are planning to head for Rock
Harbor so Jim turns on the VHF and
tunes in to NOAA to get the weather.
Right about this time I decide to take a
turn on deck to check our swing and
anchor set. As I step out into the cockpit
the scene before me is so beautiful I have
to sit down for a bit. The moon is now
fully up and all around me is bright as
day. Tucked behind Malone Island we are
sheltered from the big lake but we are just
a short distance from the shore of
Siskiwit Bay. With Emmanuel's bow
pointing almost due west as I sit in the
cockpit I can see Ross and Fisher Islands.
The waters of
Malone Bay gleam
in this frosted light
and I am happy to
just sit and watch.
Just then, in the
midst of this reverie,
a flash catches
my eye. I turn my
head quickly and
see that the northwest
sky is filled
with lightning.
When I go below
again Jim, Ray and
I discuss the forecast
of expected
15-25 knot winds
out of the west, to
which we are a bit
exposed. I update
them on the weather
and we bat
around the idea of
setting a second
anchor but decide
to wait and see
what happens. I have a fair amount of
confidence in our Bruce and we have
plenty of swing room. We all head for bed
shortly after. Banging thunder and a driving
rain wakes me at about 2 am. We had
left some hatches open for ventilation so
Jim and I hurriedly shut them and I head
to the cockpit to rescue the Garmin chartplotter.
After stowing it below I wait out
the storm and make myself some cocoa to
pass the time. By 3:00 a.m. it has blown
itself out and I take my cocoa and my
new headlamp to the cockpit. This thing
makes reading at night a breeze! The air
is balmy and with the passing of the
storm the skies are clear and the night is
thick with stars. Pretty soon I'm yawning
and I head back to bed for a few more
hours of sleep.
Monday morning dawns bright and
clear but we can see by the chop in
Malone Bay that the wind has piped up
again. For breakfast that morning I make
Jolene my double cinnamon French toast.
I soak thick slices of French bread in a
rich egg, cream, maple syrup, cinnamon
and butter mixture. After soaking I grill
the slices on the griddle and serve with
warm syrup and thick sliced bacon. When
breakfast is done and the dishes are
washed it's time to go. Our destination
this day is Rock Harbor which is about 30
miles further up the south shore of Isle
Royale. After warming up the diesel we
get the anchor back on board and head for
the channel out of Malone Bay. Once
clear we discuss our sail plan for the day.
The wind is really blowing and we
already have about two feet of chop. We
decide to go with a single reef in the main
and part of the jib rolled out. Once hoisted
we fall off to a starboard tack and
because the wind is out of the southeast
we don't have a lot of sea room to allow
us to sail lower than a close reach so we
settle in for the ride across Siskiwit Bay.
It is this kind of weather that shows what
a stellar performer Emmanuel is under
challenging conditions. As the miles slide
by under her hull, the wind and waves
continue to build. By lunchtime we are in
some serious 6 footers and it is a hard
slog but Emmanuel simply leans into it
and shoulders her way through maintaining
a respectable 7 plus knots. Helm duty
requires serious concentration and warm
headgear. Even though the temps are easily
in the 60's it is chilly in the wind. By
early afternoon I head down to the galley
and dish up leftover pasta salad and
chicken salad for lunch. Apparently conditions
have not dampened appetites
since it all quickly disappears. Shortly
after lunch we are approaching Chippewa
Harbor and I easily spot the daymark for
the entrance and we know we don't have
much farther to go. An hour or so later we
round Saginaw Point and are heading for
Middle Island Passage, our entrance to
Rock Harbor. About this time Jim fires up
the diesel to help our pointing so we don't
lose a lot of ground. The Yanmar is chugging
happily along at cruising speed
when suddenly the RPM's drop from the
usual 2800 to about 1000. Jim and I look
at each and I shrug my shoulders. Jim
advances the throttle again and a moment
later the RPM's come back up. We make
it to Middle Island Passage and just as we
enter Rock Harbor we spot Montebelau
heading out. We chat for a few moments
on the VHF and wave good bye as they
head out to Chippewa Harbor. Just a few
minutes later the diesel does the same
thing. The RPM's fall off and then come
back up. It happens twice more during the
three miles we travel to Rock Harbor
marina and it leaves Jim and I feeling
somewhat spooked.
The first thing we do is stop at the
gas dock to top off fuel (diesel is over $6
a gallon!!!), pump out the holding tank
and arrange for an overnight slip. While
the boys are taking care of these things
Jolene and I hop off and head for the
bathrooms. When we come back I walk a
ways down to check out what slip I want.
While a few of the slips have the length to
accommodate Emmanuel I am worried
about the depth. I finally find one with a
port side tie up and I go back to tell Jim.
I am happy to see that we are just two
slips away from Dan on Seahawk. We
had last seen Dan and his crew at
Windigo on Saturday. We exchange hellos
and chat for a few minutes.
Within a short while Emmanuel is
tucked up safely in her slip and Ray and
Jolene decide to head out to do some
exploring. They take the dinghy and head
over to Raspberry Island. Jim and I stay
on board and spend some time relaxing.
Shortly after Ray and Jolene leave we are
surprised to see ZaBreNa pull into the gas
dock so we head over for a quick visit.
Dave and his crew are planning on spending
the night in Tobin Harbor but we
agree to touch base in the morning before
heading out. By the time Ray and Jolene
come back it is time for appetizers which
we eat on shore while we enjoy the lovely
evening. Finally I throw some steaks
on the grill and sauté some mushrooms in
butter. Along with the big, juicy strip
steaks we have fresh crudités and bread
warm from Emmanuel's oven. This feast
requires the four of us to take a walk
down to the Rock Harbor Lodge after we
clean our plates. It is easy to see that all
the guests must have a fabulous view. We
check out the gift shop, peek in some
windows and pretty soon wander back to
Emmanuel. It is another beautiful evening
and the tranquil basin that is Rock Harbor
gleams pearl like in the early evening.
The air is soft and is lightly cool against
my skin. When we get back to the boat
we debate the idea of showering on shore
but the thought of paying $6 for a 5
minute shower leaves us all opting for
wash ups on board. All the fresh air and
sailing has worn Jolene out and she
crawls into her bunk early. Jim, Ray and I
stay up longer for coffee and dessert and
we discuss the day's events, including the
diesel problem. It seems reasonable to
assume that the problem may be gunk in
the fuel filter and decide that will be the
first place we look in the morning.
Tuesday morning is warm and
sunny. Since I always sleep sounder when
we are in harbor it is after 8 am before I
stumble out and the rest of the crew is up
already. Jim and Ray are just coming
back from Tobin Harbor where they
hiked over to see if ZaBreNa was there.
She was not so they try to raise her on the
VHF but no luck. Thankfully Jolene has
the coffee made and I huddle with my cup
until my sleep fogged brain clears. A
quick breakfast and it is time to get to
work. We pull the engine cover off and
with me reading the diagram out of the
service manual we locate the fuel filter.
Once it is removed we pour its contents
into a jug and find that about half of it is
sludge. Next we locate the Racor filter
and clean that also and then we discover
the sealing O-ring is bad. Ray and Jim
exchange looks wondering where are we
going to get parts. I disappear into the
port aft cabin and reappear moments later
with a new filter and a new O ring from
the spare parts kit I laid in before we left.
For a brief moment I am heralded as the
best provisioner of all time. With all new
parts installed Jim steps confidentially to
the helm and turns the key. The Yanmar
cranks hopefully but that is all and pretty
soon the starter is starting to lag because
the start battery is being depleted. Around
this time our friend Dan from Seahawk
strolls down the dock and suggests we try
priming the new fuel filter. The guys grin
sheepishly. Apparently this is a man thing
they are supposed to know. The filter gets
primed and more cranking and now the
start battery is dangerously low. We take
a short break and Ray heads to the bathroom
where a chance conversation gives
him the answer we need. Soon he is back
and tells Jim that the air needs to be bled
out of the fuel line. Before we can do that
though Jim and I hoist one of the house
batteries out of its locker and move it to
the companionway where it is connected
to the start battery using the battery
cables Dan loaned us. The Yanmar service
manual guides us through the process
and once the lines are bled I turn the key
and Yanmar busts into life and chugs happily
away. Acheer goes up from the crew
of Emmanuel which is echoed by a victory
blast from Seahawk. By this time it is
after 12 noon and we are anxious to be on
our way. Soon we are slipping our lines
and with a last wave to Seahawk and
thank you call on the VHF we quickly
leave Rock Harbor behind. As we exit
Middle Island passage we find the winds
are about 15 knots ESE with seas of 1-2
feet. We decide on a double reefed main
and we roll out a small amount of jib.
Pretty soon we are flying along, running
down the shore of Isle Royale. Our plan,
as we pass Saginaw Point again is to sail
for as long as we can and keep an eye on
the weather. We decide that if the winds
die off by the time we get to the southern
tip of the island we will duck into
Washington Harbor for the night. If the
wind is forecast to stay up we will sail to
the islands tonight.
Shortly after this we pass the
entrance to Chippewa Harbor and are
surprised by a hail from ZaBreNa. They
are tucked into Chippewa and were hiking
to the overlook when they spotted us
flying past. We urge them to join us but
they have decided to wait until evening
before making for the islands. We plan a
rendezvous at Stockton and we continue
on our way. By 5:15 p.m. we are about
10 miles from Grace Harbor. Jim and
Ray have been listening to NOAA and
they are happy with the wind forecast so
we decide we will continue on.
We alter course to a heading of 171
degrees which gives us an ETA at Outer
Island at 0400. We discuss watches and
Ray and I volunteer to take the 1600-
2000 and the 1200 to 0400 watch. Since
we are about an hour into Jim and
Jolene's break I head below and heat up
some leftover stew for them before they
head off watch. Pretty soon it is just Ray
and I in the cockpit. Emmanuel is on Otto
and the conversation ranges far and wide.
The day is moving slowly towards
evening and the sky is now streaked with
the pink and lavender shades of a summer
sunset. The wind has leveled off and our
course has it placed solidly on our hip so
we shake the reef out of the main and
unroll the rest of the jib. The extra power
is helpful because the quartering seas
have increased steadily and are now over
4 feet. I find that watching the steady and
powerful rhythm of the waves is deeply
hypnotic. They are large impatient beasts
and when they meet Emmanuel's sleek
hull they surge and seem to seek a way to
claim her, when they cannot they roll
under her stern and rush around her bow
and like grumpy old men who are interfered
with, mumble bitterly to themselves
as they continue on their way.
When Ray comes back on deck he
rigs the radar deflector and I help him
hoist it high in the rigging. After that I go
below and make some hot cocoa which
Ray and I share along with our dwindling
supply of seasick cookies. Their abundance
of ginger helps with queasiness
when the seas are this rolly. Emmanuel is
still sailing well and is maintaining
speeds of 7-8 knots. For the next hour or
so we talk in a desultory fashion and I
watch as dusk approaches slowly. At
about 7:50 I head below and shake Jolene
and Jim out of their bunks. By the time
they stumble up on deck they are happy
to see the pot of fresh coffee ready for
them. After shift turn over Ray and I head
below and Ray disappears into his cabin.
I decide a thermos of hot soup would be
good for the crew on watch so I get a pot
of tomato soup heating on the stove.
Because of the quartering seas it is still
rolly so I need the pot holders to hold the
pan on the gimbaled stove. Once the soup
is hot I pick it up in both hands. I have the
thermos standing in the sink but now I
realize I have a problem with the transfer.
The soup does not pour well from the pan
especially when I am aiming for an opening
jus t a little larger than an inch. I know
I have a funnel somewhere but I cannot
set the pan down for fear of it spilling
(fiddles not withstanding) while I search
for it. I finally resign myself to the fact
that I am going to lose some and take my
best shot. After cleaning all the soup out
of the sink I head to my bunk.
It's a little strange being in the Vberth
while we are underway. I have
never slept on Emmanuel except when
we are at anchor or docked. While there is
rushing past the hull it is actually a soothing
sound. I wedge myself crossways into
the V-berth but since we are not heeling
and the rolling motion is more pronounced
in the stern I am very comfortable.
I read for a while and then I doze
off. All too soon Jolene is waking me up
for my next shift. I put all my layers of
clothes back on including my harness and
tether and head for the cockpit. It is a
beautiful night but the wind has eased
some so Jim has started the diesel to
maintain our speed but the sails are still
up. Jim and Jolene's watch was uneventful
except for a couple of freighters that
have just shown up on the screen. Again
it is Ray and I and the moonlit night. We
can see lights on the far north shore and
we are pretty sure we are seeing the lights
of Grand Marais. I keep an eye on the
freighters on our screen and it soon
becomes obvious they will pass well
astern of us so I relax just a bit.
I have the helm by myself for a bit
while Ray is below and it is a huge feeling.
It is a magnificent feeling-being at
the helm of a boat like Emmanuel and
sailing across this lake. The full moon is
still with us and lights our way. The only
sounds are those of wind, water and boat.
Emmanuel sails along, at home in the
water and happy to be underway. I
remember well all my feelings of trepidation
at the start of this journey and am
amazed at how different I feel now. In
just 5 days we have sailed more than 300
miles, put our anchor down in new
anchorages and crossed this lake twice,
at night. In some ways it seems a shame
that I have waited until now, my 48th
summer before finding out I can do this
but at least now I know. My feeling of
satisfaction is immense.
By about 2 a.m. Ray and I have spotted
the light from Outer Island and we
start to discuss what our plan will be.
We're not sure if we want to stop in the
islands and get some sleep or continue on
to Pike's Bay. Our ETA for arriving at
Stockton is around 5 a.m. and getting
back to Pike's Bay would take another 2
hours. Since we are already a day ahead
of schedule we decide to stop in the
islands and see if we get a chance to sail
that day. We discuss various anchorages
and Ray advocates for some locations
that are closer to where we enter the
islands but I lobby vigorously for putting
the hook down in Presque Bay on
Stockton. I know the bay so making our
entrance in low light doesn't bother me.
We postpone a decision until Jim and
Jolene are back on watch. At 4:00 a.m.
Ray wakes the next shift and when Jim
and Jolene are on deck we discuss our
options. Jim decides on Presque Isle Bay
and we adjust our waypoint. I head below
and curl up on the settee in the main salon
since I know we are due to arrive at
Stockton in about an hour. I doze for a bit
and then Jim is waking me to help with
the anchor. Once on deck I can see that
the skies have lightened considerably and
finding a place to put the hook down is
easy. Once the anchor is set I head below
for my bunk and am sound asleep by 5:20
a.m. We all sleep pretty sound until about
9 a.m. and then it's time for coffee.
It is a warm sunny day with clear
skies and is a perfect day for just hanging
out and taking it easy. Breakfast is thrown
together from leftovers and Jolene does
dishwashing duty afterwards. There is a
general air of somnolence on board and
the slightly humid day does nothing
much to shake us out of our torpor. By
late afternoon a craving for pasta overtakes
everyone on board so I whip up a
batch of Pasta Puttanesca and we all eat
big platefuls of the stuff. Of course, this
feast promotes more lying about in the
warm drowsy afternoon. A few hours
later ZaBreNa hails us on channel 16 and
we find out she has just reached Outer
Island. We invite her to stop by for snacks
and the invitation is accepted quickly. I
get busy in the galley again and pull out
all the leftovers and throw them on plates
and bowls. By the time I am done
ZaBreNa is in sight and Jolene and I tie
on fenders and ready lines. ZaBreNa
comes alongside and we raft up without
too much fuss. Our guests come aboard
Emmanuel and we all have a chance to
talk over the adventure we just had and
share stories about our crossing. By early
evening we know it is time to return to
Pike's Bay so we haul anchor reluctantly
and motor home in the fading light of a
late summer day. All of us changed forever
by this experience.
Sam Hounder is former Commodore
of Black Bear Yacht Club and still serves
on the Board of Directors as Social
Czarina. She and husband Jim have been
sailing together for over 15 years. They
keep Emmanuel in Pike’s Bay Marina in
Bayfield, WI.
a certain amount of noise from the water
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