"...honey put your pants on, the police are right behind you..."

Yes, I uttered these fatefull words to Captain Francis as I caught a glimpse of the CoastGuard patrol boat out of the small cabin window above the sink while doing dishes one night. Our nature-loving Wayne needed to cool down and thought he could take a private moment to do so on anchor in Conneaut Harbor after a hot 3-mile run in the afternoon and a long, 5 to 6 mile walk to the grocery store and back. It was dark, after dinner. Even though I reminded him at 4pm as requested to turn the masthead light on, my reminder came too early and we forgot just as the dusk settled after dinner. Luckily his shorts were on deck with him, and he slid into them swiftly as they asked permission to board for a Safety Inspection. Everything was in order, but they were surprized by the flares which dated to 1984. Wayne asked innocently, "do they expire?" Yes, apparently they do and the young man conducting the search had to remark that those were the oldest flares he had ever seen. He asked Wayne, 'Do you have any more?". Wayne produced the other, spare flares. One could tell from the packaging right away that they were special. The Coasties stared at them, dumbfounded. Finally their leader stammered, "are these really from 1968?" Wayne said, "well yes - the boat was built in 1966..." to which the young man could only reply - "now these are REALLY the oldest flares I have EVER seen." I hope to sell them on the internet when we return, they are peachy with polka-dot packaging and trim! Highlights - Seeing the square-rigger Niagara in the early morning mist sail past us as we were leaving Put-In Bay at South Bass Island, a wonderful State Park harbor and marina in Erie, PA called Presque Isle State Park and arriving here in Dunkirk, NY in the knowledge that barring disaster, we should get to Tonawonda NY tomorrow and begin the Erie Canal phase! So excited that my sweetheart Sarah will be joining us there.

Harbor Beach to Port Huron - the continuation of a series of strange events.

7-19-07 Thursday. Another early morning (read: 5am). Kind of overcast but not frankly raining. Just as we are about to leave after the now sacrosanct coffee and oatmeal and are engulfed by fog as Wayne said, "as thick as pea soup". We cannot even see the sailboat moored near us nor the breakwall, never mind the entrance to the harbor. We are socked in. We have another long day to Port Huron and need to get going. Luckily there are a host of gulls sitting on the wall, serenading us with their morning wailing and screeching. We have an audio clue as to the whereabouts of the wall, a compass, and a brief glimpse of it and decide to carefully and slowly edge out toward where we believe the entrance should be. Our joy at finding the entrance is suddenly quashed by the appearance of what must be the only other sailboat on Lake Huron out in this fog (read: damn fool) who is trying to get in where we are trying to get out. Wayne has prepared me as to my role in this instance and I yell to him, "boat" and pull a blast on the fog horn. They see eachother, take immediate evasive action, after which the other captain calls glibly over to us, "nice day for a sail!..." I have yet to really appreciate boat humor. Medical humor I get. Bawdy humor no problem. But boat humor is a version of the grimmest possibilities presented in a casual manner to avoid speaking the actual truth which is that we are clearly nuts. We head straight out for about a mile, then set our course. Unlike the previous day, the fog eventually burns off and we think that our dreams of sunny cruising with a gentle wind are not unrealistic. The wind picks up later in the day, and we are basically going straight downwind. This gives us the opportunity to go wing on wing and pick up a lot of speed. The wind increases a bit more, and Wayne is having a blast "surfing the boat" until it increases yet more and now we are overpowered by our sails. We need to drop one or both, but the wind is howling and the waves are really picking up. I have the tiller, and Wayne puts on his harness and clips in to go forward and handle the sails. My job is simple - just keep the boat pointing up into the wind. Of course if you think this is simple you have never attempted to do this on a squalling Great Lake with towering waves and 30+ mph winds. We manage to douse both sails, but now the real fun starts as we have to get back on course and get into the harbor. The force is with us, and we simultaneously spot the first of the buoys which will lead us to Port Huron. This requires resumption of the straight downwind course in now a real storm with rain, big wind, even bigger waves and alot of spray. Sadly, the dinghy - which we had just named Andy (for Andromeda the daughter of Cassiopeia) is swamped, riding crazily on the big waves behind us she crashes into the hull several times and is disintegrated. All we have left is the metal ring upon which she was attached and a bit of the bow. At this point we have bigger things to worry about and need to just make it into the St. Clair River and out of the storm. We ride the course straight down the buoys - wet, freezing, exhausted and still in the thick of it until we pass under the suspension bridge marking the entrance and the water and wind calms down. I am actually thinking 'what wouldn't I do now for a bowl of hot pea soup'... Now, shivering and grateful, we enter the Black River and are surrounded by a boat explosion! There are boats everywhere! Trying my maiden attempt at the radio, I call the Harbor Master and ask what we should do. He instructs us to raft up onto a boat named Masterpiece, which is just behind the Irish Mist with the green hull. What? I relay this information to Wayne. Meanwhile, there are a series of drawbridges which must open for us to pass through and we are in line with several other boats. Sailboats don't just sit still that well, especially when there is a breeze. We make it through the drawbridge and I call the Harbor Master again. He and I are not communicating well. He says, " I don't have you on my list - are you a late entry?". Holy cats - we finally figure out we have stumbled upon the Port Huron to Mackinac racers and he thinks we are one of them. I manage to gasp, "No! We have just come through a bit of a squall and need a place to stay for the night". He directs us to a marina downriver. This requires the successful passage under yet 2 more drawbridges during which time the congestion on the river is remarkable and we get hung up and briefly run aground on the silt maneuvering through an unpredictably shallow spot. The Sheriff's boat is right there and pulls us gently off so that we can get through the darn bridge which has just opened for us and ultimately follow the Harbor Master's directions until we find the Bridge Harbor Marina and pull in. We aim to pull into the first slip we see, and are assisted by a new friend and our new saviour of the day - Rob! He appears in a Hawaiian shirt and cut-offs, long curls flying and tanned feet sprinting over to help us tie up. He is enamoured of Wayne's Pearson Vanguard - a real boat aficionado -and gushes , "Wow! A Pearson Vanguard! I have only seen these in magazines...can I come aboard?" We are so ready to sip a cold one with our saviour and establish a ready friendship. He is truly a wonderful guy, and as I again am typing in the comfort of the Bridge Harbor Marina, Wayne and Rob are on the road to St. Clair Shores, shopping for a new dinghy. An inflatable one this time. And so, a few thousand dollars lighter but still intact, we have made it from Marquette to Port Huron in two weeks. Subjective: still in good spirits, affective bright, relationship strong. Objective: thinner. No dinghy. New gas tank. Assessment: not broke yet, and in apparently good health, boat and crew. Plan: on to Lake Erie!

Sault Ste. Marie to Port Huron: friends, foul weather and flying over the water

We have arrived in Port Huron but not without significant stories to tell on the way...let's start with the departure from Sault Ste. Marie and trip down the St. Marys River. We had studied charts for the river somewhat but did not have any of our own, so on a very cold, misty morning we left the Soo (finally!) and navigated buoy to buoy until we reached our destination of the day - DeTour Village. The municipal marina was a welcome sight, and we pulled in to a slip and went off in search of Chad Norton. We found him easily at his home and coffee/ice cream shop "The Garage". It had been his wife Rene's birthday the night previous, and she and Chad were still in a jovial mood. So despite our good intentions to exercise and garner provisions, we sat under a shady umbrella and chatted until it was dinner time! Not having gotten to the store, we accompanied Chad, Rene and a large contingency of their friends to a fun cafe with unlimited whitefish on the menu and a charming Mexican bartender (from Mexico City no less) named Esther who insisted on making her signature Margheritas for us! Rene is involved in the planning of a singular event in DeTour called "Happy Apple Saturday" which will take place on Saturday, Sept. 15th. Fast Eddie's Blues Band will be playing at the Fog Cutter, Artisans and Crafters will be displaying and selling their creations, the Huron St. B & B is sponsoring "An Evening with Mark Twain" (played by none other than Roger Norton - Chad's Dad!) and the Albany Bar and Restaurant Equestrian Ride will take place with all proceeds to benefit the Children's Cancer Camp. Given the hospitality that Chad and Rene showed us, I could not help but take the opportunity to write about this unique event in a very friendly town. Arriving at the boat later than expected, we went right to sleep in order to get up early and take off for Presque Isle Harbor. Monday 7-16 we awake to a beautiful clear 6am sunrise and a new day leaving Lake Superior and entering Lake Huron. Although still cool, the brilliant sunshine lifts our spirits and unlike the navigational challenge that the St. Marys provided, the exodus from DeTour into Lake Huron looks easy. Dressing warmly all day for a cold crossing, we had the chance to finally shed our layers upon arriving at Presque Isle Harbor around 5pm. There we were greeted by the strains of a lone violinist on a nearby sailboat. We anchor in the bay, explore the surrounding woods briefly, and enjoy a quiet night on the boat. Tuesday 7-17 the sun rose again on a clear, calm day. Warmer! An easier day yet with land in sight at all times. I try out my boat Pilates and find that it is do-able, with the added chanllenge of keeping one's balance aboard a gently rolling boat. We are pleased and slightly amazed to pull into Harrisville around 5pm, earlier than expected. A bit of a challenge as our 25+ year-old charts do not actually reflect some of the changes to the navigation markers, including the removal of the buoy marking the entrance to the harbor. Luckily we have cell phone numbers for all of the harbors up until Port Huron, and receive instructions to "...head for the big white thing." We find the gas dock at the back NE corner of the marina, gas up and anchor out in a marshy mooring pond full of tall water weeds. Unfortunately could not contact our friend Valerie Penglase, but had a lovely beach run and plunge into refreshing Lake Huron. Disappointments of the day; 1. not finding Val and 2. BUGS! The biting flies we thought we had left in the UP returned on the way to Harrisville. It's a cute town but BUG CITY. Be warned. 7-18-07 Wednesday...OMG he is up at 5am! Coffee, oatmeal and on our way by 6am - this is a big day of sailing. Having a natural loathing of the early morning, my only reward was a sight I don't usually see - the sun as a big orange ball rising through coral-tinged clouds in a Robin's Egg blue sky. We get underway uneventfully and I get to go back to bed. By 13:30 (1:30 pm) we are crossing from the right index finger tot he lateral aspect of the thumb of Michigan on a relentlessly foggy day. Can't see a bloody thing. The effect of being fogged in on the crossing of a large lake with no land in sight for hours is slightly eerie to say the least. After about 11 hours on the lake we spot a huge smoke stack. This is the first evidence of land we have seen all day and it is miraculously marking the entrance to the harbour of our destination. We arrive at Harbor Beach and there is a huge anchorage just inside the breakwall. We dinghy in to find a lovely municipal recreation center with clubhouse, pool and cedar-panelled restrooms. This is surrounded by gigantic and very gracious log homes replete with beveled glass window accents and screen porches. We walk around a bit and begin to understand this is not a municipal facility. We have in fact stumbled upon the Harbor Beach Resort Association. Too late - we walk into town acting as if we belong there and after a quick tour of this tiny and quaint town we are back on board Cassie mkaing dinner. I get to talk to both Thomas and Catherine and life is good. Now for the real drama. It deserves a post of it's own.

Hope Springs Eternal

The National Weather Service issued a small craft advisory for the entire day for the St. Marys River, and so we remain one more soggy day in our new home away from home. I have profited from this time to learn much about blogging, the internet, Facebook, MySpace, and how to find the most up-to-date marine weather forecast (wunderground). We have a favorable forecast for tomorrow, and have completed all the preparations to finally take off at 7am on Sunday. Wish us luck!

Friday the 13th - an end to the Twilight Zone

If you are into Kabala or Numerology it may be of interest to note that we got into deep engine trouble on 7-7-07 and now are finally out of the Twilight Zone on Friday the 13th - a nice cosmic pairing of lucky/unlucky days depending upon your point of view. Yes, it's true! The engine is working again. An extremely nice and hard-working (and competent) young man named Kevin brought our new 80 zillion dollar gas tank (fabricated by an apparently quite competent but very nasty gent who shall remain nameless for the purposes of this blog) made out of shiny stainless steel. Our Kevin had to go back to his shop to make a connecting part with the guessifications he and Wayne could come up with. When Kevin returned - miracle - the part fit beautifully, the installation was complete, and after 2 gut wrenching crank sessions it finally roared to life! As Sarah would say...wah wah woo wah...OK, we are blissfully thinking we might get underway again tomorrow. In the meantime, we actually READ the engine maintenance manual, learned a lot about the various parts and maintenance schedules, and decided we would both need to become marine diesel maintenance mechanics ( Wayne as primary mechanic and I get to be the first assistant.) It has become painfully clear that this engine, although brand new, needs nothing less than clean fuel and regular maintenance. So we will do this in order to avoid another trip to the Twilight Zone. With a congregation of Harley-riding American Legionnaires not a quarter-mile away listening to live oldies like my fave "Mustang Sally", we are going to enjoy a fun-filled dinner on the boat and sleep a bunch. In a way, no news is good news so our next post may not be for a while. We intend absolutely and without question to head to DeTour village tomorrow. Be on the lookout for Sunday the 15th as this is the beautiful and exciting Catherine Lydia Edgell's birthday. Give her a shout. Better yet, buy her a really nice present. You can find her at: cedgell@umich.edu. Peace out.

The first in a series of many strange things....

Thursday, 4pm and the tank is not ready. No putting in the new fuel tank today but we are promised, "first thing in the morning". Wayne has been reading a book which describes another man's voyage from Florida to Upstate New York and the whole experience has been settling in on him like a fog. After having thought a moment about the tribulations which the book's author recounts and the bizarre saga of trying to replace the fuel tank, his only logical conclusion was that this would be the first in a series of many strange things. Since life is strange and upredictable in general, I have to agree. Some things are, however, predictably good - like beer and pizza. And so we have decided to keep our date anyway and let tomorrow unfold as it will.

Unending saga of Sault Ste. Marie

We are sitting in the boat, waiting now for a newly manufactured gas tank to arrive. The one that came from California a day late turned out to be too small (only 11 gallons) and the gentlemen, after much thought, decided the only way for us to get underway again is for a new tank to be fabricated out of stainless steel to the exact specifications of the old one. The joys of old boats! No one makes a tank any more of the appropriate dimension, so we will have one custom-made. Then, with ANY kind of luck, we will install it today and cast off for DeTour tomorrow. During our brief moments of temporary insanity, we have done all kinds of things for amusement. It is now Thursday. We had thought on Tuesday night that our troubles would end Wednesday with the installation of the new tank. As such, we were seized by an inexplicable urge Wednesday night to take a bit of an exploratory stroll after dinner. We discovered a most incredible power plant: Edison Sault Electric. It is an ENORMOUS, and somewhat frightening building built right over the water. It was built in 1888 and fully online with a newly-designed outside in 1898. Since that time, it has been providing the Sault area with power generated from its 80 turbines spanning a full quarter mile of the river. It is built entirely from stone upon pilings, under which fishermen in their small boats congregate frequently. Very close to this building is an impossibly run-down looking hotel called the Harbor House. Unlikely as it seems,it appears to be in operation. At the entrance to the basement of the Harbor House is a sign announcing "live music and cold beer" in a pub named the Happy Hideaway. Both happy and hideaway sounded good, so we ventured down into one of the funkiest places you can imagine. The bar was decorated in random holiday/tropical mode with various strings of lights and the occasional tiki-motif touch. There was a friendly bartender who offered 75-cent drafts of Budweiser. Who could refuse? After one or two, we were irresistably drawn to the small pool table - the size of Andy's for those of you who remember the pool table at Andy's - and put in a couple quarters. Now we are having fun! A nice couple from down the river struck up a conversation with us. Their names were Jason (an electrician) and Tracey (activity director at a local nursing facility). We had to stay and chat for some time, as at the very least we were not thinking about the bloody gas tank for once, and these two nice people were truly charming. This clearly resulted in a sluggish Wednesday morning, another unsuccessful gas tank experience Wednesday evening and a much less exciting Wednesday night. Today we are mildly optimistic that this last idea will work and that we will truly be back underway tomorrow. If so, we intend a modest celebration with beer and pizza tonight. As we will not be able to access the internet so easily, we will update this morning's post with the ultimate outcome of the newly fabricated stainless steel gas tank for Cassie.

the wonders of Sault Ste. Marie

Today was a day for exploring the town while Wayne was contorting himself into terribly small spaces to work on detaching the existing fuel tank for the arrival of it's replacement tomorrow. It was an uncomfortable, dirty and difficult job but he never complains...now we are waiting for Rick the Mechanic to come and pump out the contaminated fuel. It's 8:30 at night, but the sun is still high and we have not given up hope. As to the town - the first thing a sailor should know is "how to lock through". The Soo Locks are an engineering marvel. There are four locks on the "American Side" and they are open 24 hours a day. They service mostly commercial vessels - over 11,000 per year carrying a total of up to 90 million tons annually! Although there is a vague preference for smaller craft to use the Canadian locks, it is not a strict condition. Approaching the American locks, the captain radioes in his (or her) intent to "lock through" and is directed by a flashing light atop the entrance. We, of course, did not know this...whichever light is flashing is the lock they would like you to use. There are four locks laid out left to right and four lights - a very simple system but one that it helps to be familiar with. Aha! What luck, Rick has just arrived and is getting stuff squared away with Wayne. We highly recommend that anyone with boat trouble in the Sault area call Soo Boat Works at 632-8112. This guy Rick is one of the wonders of the area too - do you know anyone else who works from 8 am to 9 pm on Mondays? But back to the locks. Upon approach, you will hear a loud buzzing. This is the door to the lock opening to let you in! Then you pull up to "the wall" on your starboard side and a member of the Army Corps of Engineers - the people who run the facility - will give you a "line" (a rope). Refer to our previous post and when he says "Don't cleat this off," don't do it! The marvelous thing about the locks is that there is no pumping - the water seeks to return to it's own level via an inflow valve and an outflow valve. Once the guy has given you the line, he signals the lock operator who opens the appropriate valve. In our case, it was the outflow valve and the water in the lock was allowed to flow into the lower St. Marys River for a total drop of 21 feet. When the process is complete, you hear the loud buzzing again as this is the door at the other end of the lock opening to let you out. One of the most amazing things is that this is all done at NO COST to the boat no matter what kind of boat it is! The locks are powered by their own hydroelectric plant which generates more than 150 kilowatt hours of electrical power each year. Excess power is distributed to homes in the area, some of which are quite old and quaint. The entire facility is really worth visiting, as there is a lovely park bordered by deliciously fragrant flowering trees with a large, impressive fountain in the middle. The visitor's center has excellent displays about the history of the locks, and a schedule of which large ships will be passing through that day. It may be geeky, but I thought it was very cool. When I climbed up on the viewing platform, I was lucky to see a 632 foot freighter - the BlueBill - locking down to the lower river in the Poe lock, while the Soo Boat Tours boat Nokomis was locking up in the one that we had utilized - the MacArthur lock. Across the street from this massive shipping operation and serene, sunlit park is the usual strip of tourist traps. But as you walk downriver from the park to the Kemp Marina, you pass several interesting historical sights such as an ancient Ojibway burial ground, the original house of Bishop Baraga, markers explaining the history of the area in terms of French and British forts and skirmishes and the contributions of the native americans. Strangely enough I just discovered how the French lost dominance in this area in the Michener book "Caribbean" which I am reading in preparation for if we ever get there. It appears that the British managed to seize control of the French islands of Martinique and Guadeloupe in 1762. The British sugar cane plantation owners did not want the lower-priced French sugar to enter their home market, and argued strongly in Parliament to arrange for a trade of sorts - the French could have their islands back and England would take control of Canada. This treaty was approved by the British parliament on February 20, 1763 et voila! The area is so rich in history that it has been a fascinating stop over but we are both feeling a little anxious to get going again. We have been able to walk to the Rite-Aid, the A & P, the Ace Hardware Store, and a very nice pub called Moloney's Alley. It is our sincere desire to install the new tank tomorrow, spend one more nice evening in the Soo and get back out there early Wednesday morning for the REAL detour - the town of Detour, Michigan. I hope Chad has some smashing coffee waiting for us.

excitement, danger, adventure and more!!!

We cast off on Wednesday, July 4th full of anticipation and a small measure of trepidation after a lovely evening spent in the company of our dear friend Steve Leuthold and the talented and lovely Melissa Matuscak, the new DeVos Museum Director. Not much of a breeze so Wayne turned on the new diesel engine and we rumbled off. The motor started to act strangely around Shot Point, and finally stalled and refused to re-start. In the meantime, we were gently drifting toward the point. Heroically, Wayne managed to change the gunked-up fuel and water separator and keep us from crashing upon the rocks. After that experience, we decided to motor to Murray Bay at Grand Island and call it a day. We had a delightful walk to Trout Bay, a quiet dinner, and another 6am start to look forward to. Thursday the 5th brought calm waters again, and another motor sail. We motored past the magnificent cliffs of the Pictured Rocks and out into the "Big Lake" again all the way to Grand Marais. As we arrived reasonably early in the afternoon, we had time to dinghy in and walk to the municipal park and play tennis. The day was so lovely that we thought we achieved our goal of having fun while voyaging far and wide. Yet another early start and we were on our way to Paradise - or so we thought. It looked to be at least a 12-hour motor/sail as the winds again were not in our favor. Rounding WhiteFish Point we noticed the boat which had been behind us for quite some time had caught up and was just off our Port side. Wayne made radio contact, and learned that the captain was single-handing his craft to Sault Ste. Marie to go through the locks. Discovering that our chart showed no real anchorage in Paradise, we decided to go the extra distance to the Sault as well. After 13+ hours of sailing, we entered the twilight zone of the approach to the locks. Regrettably, our charts took us just shy of where we were headed, and some guess work ensued. Wayne radioed the other captain, Tom, who gallantly offered to lead us through as he had been there before. What drama, pulling into the lock finally, and being thrown a rope with the instructions, "Don't cleat this off, we are going to drop you 21 feet!"...Unfortunately Wayne had not heard these instructions, and an heart-pounding moment occured when Cassiopeia's stern end started to swing toward the wall. He uncleated quickly realizing the process had started and we went down, down, down. It ended just as suddenly, and we followed Tom to the Kemp Marina very close to the locks. What a treat to have bathrooms, power, a shower - everything a girl could want! We toasted our success with champagne and looked forward to a much easier day from the "Soo" to Detour. We got up "late" - 8am - and got underway in a leisurely fashion. Our new friend Tom was leaving his boat at the Kemp to fly back to Minneapolis so that he could later return to sail in the Trans-Superior race - from Sault Ste. Marie to Duluth! What a guy. We paid our homage to him and said goodbye, anticipating another day of rumbling diesel as the wind just didn't show. So here we are on 7-07-07, our lucky day, looking to try to find Chad Norton's coffee shop when we arrive in Detour and already planning what fun we are going to have. Fate, luck, or pure chaos intervened as the motor started to act "funny" again about 2 miles down the Saint Mary river. It sputtered and stalled out. Captain Wayne, having been just as impressed as I was by the huge ore boats on this shipping channel, figured we'd best not flounder in the channel and started to steer toward the shore to put out an anchor to take a look-see at the engine. As we were drifting toward the shore the depth sounder could not have been working because it showed a sudden change from 30 or more feet of depth to under 10! No technical failure this time, we ran aground onto a sandbar made entirely of clay just a few feet out of the channel. Wow, now we have a broken engine and we are stuck. First things first - we needed to get afloat. Wayne rowed out an anchor with the dinghy to "kedge" us off of the clay, but could not pull us off. He jumped into the water - no higher than his waist now- to try to push the bow out while I pulled. No luck. He climbed back in the boat to set a second anchor. We both pulled. Stuck. A nice elderly gentleman and his lovely wife were cruising by on a large and very stately boat and offer to pull us off. Success!. Now to the next problem - engine malfunction. Remarkably, the fuel/water separator and filter that Wayne had installed not more than 2 days ago was once again completely fouled! After a bunch of work, we decided we had no other option but to get a tow back to the Kemp Marina where I am presently sitting typing in the comfort of the air-conditioned lobby. An extremely nice and capable man came to our rescue from Soo Boat Works. The name of our saviour is Rick and he is at this moment ordering 2 new, smaller gas tanks to replace Cassie's original tank which is completely fouled. In sum, we feel very lucky that we were close to such a large marine center when we ran into such a problem. I am confident that these new tanks will solve the "fouled fuel filter" problem. What other challenges lie ahead - who knows. It has been alternately serenly beautiful and relentlessly challenging but two restful days here in Sault Ste. Marie and we intend to set out again refreshed and wiser.

ready to sail

If all goes well and everything comes together we will leave on July 4th - Independence day!!!