Lake Superior *does* give up the living (the dead, not so much)

A sailing journal entry from the morning of July 13 (Thursday): . . . Sad to be approaching the end of this trip . . . I have a long day of sailing ahead to get from my current location at Loon Harbour East, off Borden Island and just East of the Black Bay Peninsula to Tee Harbour on the tip of the Sleeping Giant Peninsula. I’m looking forward to it, hoping for big wind.

Navionics advises 28 nautical miles directly, but sailing is never that direct. It will be an all day sail. Winds are predicted to be “variable” so we will do our best.

It’s just after 8 AM in this anchorage and entirely calm and quiet save for the birds in the surrounding forest. 

As I’m finishing my camping breakfast (of oatmeal and dried fruit) I hear movement from one of the other boats. My morning coffee is welcome as I’m still a bit groggy from last night which might have included just a bit of whiskey. 

Whew, made it back to my boat safely!

The boat is quite comfortable to sail and I’ve mostly maintained her to be able to make a trip like this one.

Sitting in the cockpit, under way

Room to seat six in reasonable comfort; four is better while under sail, however

The cabin with table set out with nautical chart

This is where I sleep although there’s a big bed in the front (the V-berth). Sleeping quarters are for four people (maybe five, in a pinch)

We can seat six comfortably down in the cabin: four at the table and two on my bed / the couch

In the evenings we play cards or other games, either on my boat or Will’s.  It was a convivial group, everyone happy to de-stress from their usual daily existences, and be temporarily unplugged from the world of information. I’m the only one who is retired, and I’m the oldest of the group, and I am the only one sailing solo. If I go again next year, I’ll probably find a crew mate, but I have no regrets sailing on my own this year. 

There are many tasks while sailing: attend to the boat and the sails and lines and tiller even with Otto von Helm, the autopilot, helping to keep me going. There are areas of “magnetic anomalies” around Black Bay which throw Otto for a loop as his only guide is an internal  compass. 

After being struck by lightning a few years ago, everything electronic on my boat gave up the ghost. Even my radio no longer works. I really should repair the depth finder.  Twice I hit bottom, once hard rocks as I was coming slowly into a mooring and I got stuck there (not a good feeling) but was able to reverse out and with no major damage that I could tell. The second time I touched bottom I was going faster and hit a shifting sand bar.  That’s a more gentle impact and again I was able to motor off it with no fuss. I was constantly reviewing the charts (electronic and paper) to try to avoid these and other navigational hazards. 

Still, I  had lots of time for reflection and this maybe gave me more mental free space than the truncated motorcycle trip did, in that respect. Some days I sat in the cockpit while sailing and read a book. Other days I watched the world sail past, or looked at the horizon, or listened to the wind, or watched the birds.  One day I saw five pelicans flying in perfect formation. I did not see any whales however, nor was I looking for any, even a white one.  Also, had I seen an albatross, I would not have harmed a feather on it. No sirens tempted me and I didn’t need to be tied to my mast or stop my ears. 

Nights I slept snugly in a warm sleeping bag: it was quite cold even in the protected bays, as predicted, 6 or 7 degrees C! and with no heater. . .

Many days I ended up having five meals: my breakfast around 7:30 or so, then about 10:00 Minnow produced breakfast eggy cheesy sandwich or the first few days was fresh cake that (other) Michael’s wife made and lasted three days! Then my own hunger kicks in and I make a sandwich for lunch while under sail and later in the afternoon it’s fish shore lunch time, again thanks to The Minnow.

Finally there’s the group dinners I previously described and the guys are gourmets compared to my more ordinary cooking. Roasted Fennel salads or charcoal grilled steaks, potatoes and onions in foil, fresh salsa. Every dinner was delicious. After my earlier chicken fajita meal I had prepared a second meal for the group and kept it in the cooler: Polenta with Italian sausages and tomato sauce and cheese, made in advance. I heated it up on the BBQ on Fire ‘n Water, it was still frozen when I took it out on Thursday, a week after setting out! Cool wather helped preserve the blocks of ice I’m sure. The polenta dish is a rewarding meal: tasty and seems like more work than it actually is. 

One of the meals was pizza from a wood fired pizza oven on The Minnow. All worked together on that. Fantastic, including the dough from scratch. 

Yesterday’s sail was shorter and there was very little wind but what there was was favourable and I managed to catch a decent sized Lake Trout trolling while under sail. Landing it was an interesting challenge. That one I’m taking home with me. 

On the topic of exciting things to do sailing solo, I managed to fly the spinnaker one afternoon. The other sailors were impressed, but not half as much as I was!

It was a bit challenging to take a selfie while controlling the boat, adjusting the spinnaker sheet, ensuring proper tension on the guy (that’s the line that goes from the back of the boat to the spinnaker pole end), and not to neglect the mainsail.  Couldn’t have done it in a really big wind.  

Sailing with the Spinnaker (also known as “flying the ‘chute“) usually takes at least three sailors.  It’s complicated and things can go wrong quickly. But with the right wind, minimal waves, and some possibly misplaced optimism, I was looking for something challenging to add to my list of accomplishments.

Gybing (turning from one downwind tack to the other) can be a difficult coordinated move, and hoisting the sail with proper guy and sheet tension and not getting a wrap around the head stay or ending up with an hourglass for a sail is also a bit of fun, but bringing in the sail is really tricky to accomplish, alone! But once it’s up, it has to come down eventually.

Dowsing the sail, everything needs to be planned out, timed, and go cleanly or you’re in a big mess. It’s not good for a halyard to get stuck and the sail to be flying out to the side halfway down and uncontrolled. Dropping the sail into the water is also a bad idea. Accidentally letting go of the sail and having it flopping and flying around in front of the boat is embarrassing. I’ve previously experienced all of these nautical disasters. Lines getting jammed in a clutch or a block (pully) is a constant risk.

 To take in the ‘Chute

1: flake the halyard so the sail comes down quickly and cleanly. 

2:  get the sheet end ready to go into the cabin as you need to pull the sail in. 

3: prepare to release the guy so the sail isn’t tied to the boat at either bottom corner when you want to pull it in, it needs no wind pressure. 

4: trim the main sail for the expected tack 

5: you could unfurl the headsail to provide more cover for the big sail but that can tangle with the other lines so be cautious!  

6: in quick order, ideally simultaneously, turn upwind, release the guy, release the halyard, and pull the sheet into the cabin along with the entire ‘chute..

And good luck. 

Did it!

Then repack it in preparation for its next use. 

We went up Otter Cove and explored the waterfall and a hike up to a lake above the falls where we got to swim in and enjoy warm water.

Final night at Tee: Manhattans at sunset.

On Friday, we bid each other farewell and I went to pick up Janice from Silver Islet where she had been brought by her father to accompany me on the final sail home. 22 nautical miles, around Thunder Cape and across the bay, around Caribou Island, and back snug at the mooring. 

Over the course of eight days, I sailed mostly alone 133 nautical miles (well, a fair bit more really, of course taking detours and tacks and gybes into account. 

Thursday boat overnighted at a mooring in Thunder Bay

Friday: Pringle

Saturday: Shaganash

Sunday: Loon

Monday: Marcil

Tuesday: Spar

Wednesday: other Loon (Eastern)

Thursday: Tee Harbour 

It was a wonderful trip. 

Where to next, I wonder.