The Spirit That Beckons … 2002

By - Arlyn Stewart

---

Part 1 - Weather
 
 
The fifty five mile passage north from Harrisville to Presque Isle Harbor along Michigan’s NE coastline required motoring and more than once my thoughts drifted back two days to the strong southerly breeze that blew the day after we arrived from Texas.  I’d never found favorable winds for this leg… so wasn’t disappointed… but someday the law of averages will be kind and provide good sail on the first leg of a summer cruise.
 
Though forecast had been for thunderstorms to start late in the evening, we had been graced with several small squalls during the afternoon but they hadn’t impeded our northering.    At Presque Isle marina we took temporary dockage and enjoyed a nice meal at the restaurant followed by ice cream from the store eaten as we carried ice back to the boat.  With no sign of bad weather, and enough daylight remaining,  Lin headed to the showers.  She had hardly disappeared within when distant rumblings were heard and I wished us on our way to anchorage in the large harbor/bay.
 
 Ayla, my Sheltie dog and I were walking and turned back to the boat, which needed additional dock lines if we stayed in the marina.  As we neared, Lin exited the showers and as we had a very short way to the anchorage location, there seemed time before the storm hit.
 
The Danforth bow anchor was set and holding just prior to onset of the leading edge of the storm.  Within seconds, large water drops followed and seconds more… a deluge of rain and high wind was upon us chasing us to the dryness of the cabin.   My depth sounder is a combo unit with GPS, which mounts on a stud either side of the cabin bulkhead.  It had been retrieved inside so that the depth could be monitored.  With high wind and rain pummeling the boat , I watched the sounder to ensure that we weren’t dragging anchor.  It alternated between 12-13 feet, normal as the boat swings on her rode.  Perhaps a minute went by with the 12-13 feet holding so I relaxed, and took a cabin seat.  
 
It was near dusk when we anchored and the storm had added to the darkness.  Looking for shore cabins to confirm my confidence that we weren’t dragging… I noted their lighted windows.  In an instant, I knew something was wrong…. the cabins were too far distant.  We were dragging anchor… I hadn’t realized the bay bottom was such uniform depth.
 
Lurching to the cockpit, the wind was so strong that it was driving R&R sideways with the anchor rode at nearly a right angle.  Wind loading must have been enormous.  Driven rain was stinging my face with pellets that at first I thought was hail.  A quick glance showed that we had drug two-thirds the way across the three quarter mile bay.  These observations were all secondary to the primary effort that was decided the moment that I saw the cabin lights… the Bruce anchor had to be set as quickly as possible.

It was in the port cockpit locker and as always, ready for quick deployment.  The bitter end of the rode emerged from under the coil with its loop to throw over a winch. The anchor and chain flowed easily from the locker and was eased over the windward coaming.  As soon as it was on the bottom, rode was played out and I determined to cleat off when half the coil was gone.  

Standing there prepared to cleat the rode, there was a moment to assess.  Though it had drug, the bow anchor had not broken out.  Had it, we likely would now be on the rocks of the leeward side of the bay.  It had drug… perhaps 600 yards, a long way not to break out or have the anchor rode cut on rock or bottom debris.

I chastised myself, as I knew that the Bruce was a better holding anchor than the Danforth and should have been set first as the storm closed on us.   Both should have been set before seeking the shelter of the cabin.  

I felt foolish, for not knowing that the bay was so flat and having allowed the sounder to falsely lull me to a feeling of safety when in fact, we were in peril.    I felt guilty for leaving the safety of the marina simply to meet my personal preferences towards the freedoms felt at anchor.   I gave thanks for the shore side cabin lights that gave the warning.  Thanks for the bow anchor not breaking out and for the Bruce’s readiness to deploy.  But, these were only fleeting thoughts…as my attention was focused on the loose rode and cleating it when the necessary rode had payed out.  Then, as suddenly as the high wind had started, it abated.  The leading edge of the front had moved east.  I stood there relieved and soaked, holding the slack rode of the Bruce laying only 5 yards off.  The rocks of the lee shore were yet visible in the waning light.  The safety of my boat had been challenged… more than ever before.
  
Weather is always a part of sailing.  For the mariner, surviving is the word of choice when recalling its extremes.
 
 
 
 Part  2 - More Weather
 
 
Every cruiser has or will spend time waiting on weather.  This has been a year with more than usual.  After the evening storm our first night out, we lay at anchor the next day do to thunderstorm threats as the passage from Presque Isle Harbor through De Tour Passage is a long leg across open water.  A few years previous on the same passage, lightning had struck so close to the boat.  The passage was made without incident on our third day… though again with winds ahead, it required motoring.   The fourth day we journeyed west to the Les Cheneaux Islands and arrived tired late in the evening and took anchorage within a sheltered bay near the east entrance.  

The morning of our fifth day found us meandering thru the sheltered waters of the islands towards Hessel.

 

Nearing, we grasped the extent of wind velocity in Hessel’s more open bay.  A barge skipper unloading a cable-laying piece of equipment lamented that a tractor was supposed to be moved also, but conditions too severe and this in the bay.  Our intention had been to make a gas stop at Hessel and work west to Mackinaw Island but doing so included a good distance on Lake Huron's open water.

Winds were now westerly at 25 mph and building.  Forecast for the next two days are gale force at 35-50 mph.  Plans to head west are abandoned and we retire to a café for lunch followed by some shopping in the small village after which we retrace our morning path back to the same anchorage as the previous night.  Two anchors are set and we prepare for rain by setting the all weather hatch cover.

Winds increase during the night along with rainsqualls.  The use of  two anchors holds R&R from sailing on her rode and makes the anchorage comfortable in the small well protected bay.  With pancakes on the griddle, the sound of an approaching outboard shortly brings a gentleman alongside in an inflatable.  He explains that he took his sailboat to the marina yesterday and that his dock is empty and we are welcome to use it and borrow a car if we would like.  I am greatly moved by such hospitality, but the thought of moving to a leeward dock in this wind isn’t considerable.   I explain that we lie with two good ground tackle and an anchor alarm to relieve him of possible concern about his leeward docks and party boat.  If winds subside during the day… we may take his hospitality and share a visit.  

Waking early the seventh day, gale warnings have been dropped with winds subsided to 25 mph westerlies.  Doable… I wake Lin, and we prepare to depart.  It will be a wild ride, but we have had very little sailing this cruise and I’m eager.   It will be a sixty-five mile starboard broad reach in a breeze with probable five foot swell.  The main is set double reefed and we traverse the mile of inlet to open water.  Soon after land effect is cleared… we are broached twice with the boat moving fast and tripping over herself first under double reefed main and jib, and then under main only.  I decide to go with headsail and drop the main.  Doing so will make helming much easier but will require slowing the boat to keep from overloading the forestay.   Often my self imposed speed limit of 6 mph is reached with only half the 110 exposed. Limiting the speed has removed further likelyhood of broaching.  Next time these conditions exist.... I may try to keep the main up by use of a warp to slow the boat and steady the helm.

Auto helms have a hard time with a broad reach.  When a quartering sea encounters the rudder, the combination of rudder stall and the impact of the swell against the blade spin the boat windward.  To prevent this, anticipatory helming is required.  This means that as a sea approaches the stern, the rudder needs to be veined so as to accept the sea without impacting the rudder, and as soon as cleared… the rudder shifted back to course as the rudder regains lift.  The auto helm is reactive and can’t do this, so the day offers a long twelve-hour run with no breaks from the helm.  We arrive tired and take anchorage again in Presque Isle Harbor.

 
Part  3 - Even More Weather

Our last days plans include my sister and brother in law, and starts with a pretty sunrise.

 Sunrise the last morning of cruise 2002

They are waiting for us when we enter the marina and join us for the 55-mile run south to Harrisville.  The weather again starts to threaten as light rain falls as we motor out of the marina.    Nearing the outer harbor buoy,  I note a wall cloud east of the Harbor and point out a small funnel.   Shortly, the funnel touches down to produce a waterspout a few miles east of us.  The wall cloud lingers for two hours and spurns up to four spouts at a time and as many as seven tentacles.

Freshwater Waterspout  (video clip)

My mind drifts occasionally to the many natural experiences witnessed while cruising.  Some are weather phenomenon while others are plant or animal life.  A few years ago, one was even cosmic as I witnessed my first view of an exploding meteor during the night portion of a ninety-mile crossing of Lake Huron from Manitoulin Island to Harrisville.   Last year, we had the encounter with the black bear swimming across Baie Fine.   These natuaral events,  all serve to renew the spirit that beckons to come and share the outdoor world…  particularly wind and water.

Home