Bucephalus' log

Posted by Karen A. Brown

We arrived early Sunday morning in Grand Portage to a harbor shrouded in mist and fog. There was a light breeze blowing, the sun was starting to break out, the air held the scent of anticipation. This would be our longest vacation on our sailboat yet.

The destination, Isle Royale, is said to be somewhat wild and considerably more secluded than any of our previous destinations. Both Troy and I were looking forward to the quiet majesty of the area. We hoisted our sails and headed for the island.

As we exited the harbor at Grand Portage, the mist that had been hanging about closed in on us, obscuring from view the land we had just left, refusing to disclose our destination, some fifteen miles out in the lake. We could only set our compass course and allow the GPS to track us across the lake and hope the mist would lift. What we didn't know was this was a precursor to the week to come.

Eventually, the mist lifted and we found ourselves with clear sailing to Isle Royale and into the Washington Harbor to the National Park Service dock at Windigo where we were to check in and provide our anticipated itinerary. For those unfamiliar with Lake Superior, the map on the right (courtesy of the National Park Service) provides a reference. Grand Portage is on the Canadian border in Minnesota.

As it had been a long day already we decided to spend our first night at the Windigo dock and were rewarded for this decision by a visit from the local wildlife in the form of a moose. She was eating and swimming in the bay not far from where we were docked, completely at ease with her surroundings, uncaring that we were watching.

The next morning we would awake early eager to be on with our circumnavigation of Isle Royale. We had set up an aggressive schedule hoping to round the island and return to Windigo on September 1 prior to checking out. We had a lot of water to cover and wanted to be underway quickly. As Troy was readying things above decks he called to me to come up as there were two cows having their morning breakfast in the bay with us. Watching these huge beasts eat was amazing. As we were watching the sunlight shone across the bay and the forest opened up to reveal a large bull moose, intent on breakfast, and hoping for a little more from the cows. His calls could be heard quite distinctly as he questioned the cows about their availability. (The moose, we would come to learn, were entering their rutting period). We watched until all but one cow had left before heading out for that days sail. Destination Hay Bay some thirty miles away (across water).

We raised sails in Grace Harbor putting a reef in the main and lifting the Genoa and headed out. The weather forecast was for a nice wind that would allow us to reach our destination (Hay Bay) with time to spare. As we rounded Cumberland Point the wind and the waves began to pick up. By the time we reached halfway across Rainbow Cove some of the waves were reaching the twelve foot high mark. We had dropped the Genoa and were riding the reefed main alone. The waves were lifting us up one side, slowing our progress to near zero before shooting us down the other side. We soon realized we were heading nowhere in a hurry. With the current wind we would have to tack back and forth along long point (which reaches from The Head to Houghton Ridge) and at our current speed it would take about 60 hours to accomplish unless we decided to drop the sail completely and motor. Even if we motored, the wind direction provided for few shelters once we would arrive. The best course of action seemed to be to turn around and head for the shelter of Grace Harbor.

As it would turn out we would spend the next couple of days in Grace Harbor resting and relaxing. The anchorage was secure for the winds that would pick up after we arrived. We were visited by a number of ducks, including one that was determined to make sure (up close and personal) that we had no food to provide her.

We spent the rest of Monday and all of Tuesday in this harbor. Tuesday night was especially spectacular as that evening the sky was clear of any cloud cover and the number of stars was phenomenal. Ours was the only man made light within miles. The only sounds you could hear were those of feeding moose and the waves lapping the shore. It completely took our breath away.

Wednesday morning we were determined to try and tackle the route once again. Though there was little wind and some mist it appeared that the mist would burn off and the forecast indicated the wind would pick up, if at least marginally.

Once again we rounded Cumberland Point with sails aloft. This time we also had the motor going as the wind wasn't light enough to even fill our canvas. The waves were moderate, though confused, coming at us from multiple directions making it difficult to keep a steady course. This attempt would find us rounding the head before determining that the fog was not lifting, the wind was not increasing and once again we were forced to choose to turn back or press on. As our destination would include a somewhat tricky passage near Houghton Point we forced to turn back once again, this time heading for the Windigo dock for an overnight stay.

We passed the time Wednesday visiting the Windigo park service area, joining in a moose talk and enjoying a much needed shower. We watched the fog roll in around Beaver Island and wondered what Thursday would bring.

Thursday morning dawned, once again, with mist hanging in the air. Feeling restless at dock, we decided that with a fair wind blowing, the efforts of the sun, and the wonders of modern technology, we would make it to Hay Bay if we had to motor the whole way and use the GPS for guidance. We headed out of Grace Harbor past Grace and Washington Islands towards Cumberland Point. The fog was beginning to come in again, but we had the GPs to guide our way.

Just past the Cumberland Point buoy the GPs lost us the fog had become so thick. We were now blind and lost in the fog. We had to turn back and make our way using the compass only and hope we didn't miss the entrance to the cove. We found the Cumberland Point marker and turned in to the Harbor. The fog lifted enough for us to anchor in Grace.

The picture above shows the fog closing in by Grace island and obscuring the sun. We spent the rest of the day with the fog closing in and receding periodically. It would take only 10 minutes and the visibility would close to a block around the boat. As the picture to the right shows, the whole world would become blurry.

When the sun went down it looked as though the whole sky was on fire. The way the sun lit on the fog was impressive.

We spent the night Thursday in Grace Harbor, again, waking to a freshening wind and light fog again. Weather forecasts indicated that the fog would only lift when the wind picked up dramatically creating waves of up to seven feet. Knowing the crossing back to the mainland would only get harder with stronger winds we decided to cross then as the opportunity might not present itself in the near future.

We crossed without a problem, the GPS holding out the entire way. Pulled her from the water and headed home.

Posted by Karen A. Brown

We visited the big water for the first time of the 2002 season over the Independence holiday. We couldn't have paid for a better weekend. We got up on the fourth on our usual time, not wanting to get up super early and wear ourselves out. We hit the road shortly after seven a.m. and arrived in the Little Sand Bay harbor before lunchtime. As we're getting better and better at setup, we had her packed, the mast up and the boat in the water before an hour was out.

[Our Cabin on the Lake] Since we had been on the road and working hard for hours, our only interest was in feeling the wind in our hair. We put the motor down and took a ride for Rocky Island. The weather forecast called for easterly winds that night, so we thought Rocky a perfect location for dinner, a relaxing evening on the beach and a comfortable night's anchorage.

It's about a fourteen mile trip depending on the route you take and how much sight seeing you do. We left Little Sand Bay and headed towards the neck on Rocky Island, passing by York, the York Island Shoals and rounding the north end of Bear before finally rounding Rocky. We found a place to beach her where there would be a natural screen of trees separating us from the campers at the other end of the beach. We pulled down drinks and chairs and sat back and breathed a collective sigh of contentment. We watched as other sailboats rounded Devil's, playing in the lake and felt the cooling air of the water off the lake.

After relaxing for a while we built a small fire and made dinner, which we further enjoyed alongside the water. During dinner the wind picked up and shifted slightly to the north, making us wonder about our decision to anchor there for the night. The island is a great one for an anchorage if you're looking for protection from the wind from the east, southeast, south or southwest, but if the wind shifts to much to the north, the island's protection is lost. Because of this shift in wind and the need for a good night's sleep, we decided to return to the protection of the Little Sand Bay dockage if there was space available. We got lucky and found a spot to tie up and got ready for bed.

We had a very restful night, despite being anchored next to a full campground of kids, and started Friday ready for sail.

Since it's always best to have a destination in mind, we chose to visit an island we hadn't seen before and try and get some good pictures along the way. We decided on Stockton Island, hoping for a look at the balancing rocks. An extra bonus, there should be a good anchorage or two on the island for the east, northeast windows expected that evening.

I could not believe the winds that day! We really couldn't have asked for anything better. Additionally, we both felt so much better about our sailing abilities after that sail. We threw out the Genoa and left the main full sending out all the canvas we had. We had winds that were sending out whitecaps and blowing other boats about. But we set the sails and rode the wind. At one point we were heeled over enough that I was standing in my seat instead of sitting.

We flew with the wind as long as we could until we were on the lee side of Oak Island and the winds deserted us. We ghosted along on what wind we could find for as long as we could before we finally gave up and started the motor. I'll never cease to be amazed by the power the wind has as well as how choosey she is. At one part of the islands we're flying along like the four horsemen were upon us. Another we couldn't scare a breath to keep the genny in shape. As we came out of the lee of Oak and began across the open water towards Stockton the winds picked up again and began to show signs of confusion. Also, looking across towards Presque Isle we could count a good dozen boats playing between Madeline and Stockton. In the past we'd been vigilant about avoiding the more popular parts of the area, preferring the peace and solitude of the outer islands to the cacophony that comes from the popular spots. Seeing al those boats, in addition to the increased confusion of the waves, made us decide to find a place to anchor for dinner and maybe for the night. As exhilarating as sailing can be, it's also tiring and we both could use a bit of a break.

We took a look at the maps and listened to the forecast and determined we needed an anchorage suitable for north to northeasterly windows. We decided to head for Cat Island to take a look at the sandspit at the tail of the island or further north to the core in the neck.

Deciding on the neck we searched for suitable anchorage. The map makes the neck of the cat look like an excellent anchorage, however, the clear water quickly belies that idea. The bottom of this bay is strewn with rocks and boulders with the occasional patch of sand. After a while we finally found a good spot and set her down, though not as close in as we would like. Since we were a little uncertain of our anchorage, Troy was a little concerned so he threw out a stern anchor. It turned out to be a very wise decision as the wind shifted in the night waking him up. He reset the stern and we both went back to sleep. It's amazing how well we sleep on the water, the sound of the waves against the land, the gentle rocking, the birds calling to each other. You feel like you're alone in the world. It's amazing.

After a good night's sleep we woke early to a slightly overcast and significantly diminished wind day. We reviewed the map, plotted our course and set of in search of the wind. We knew we had to be off the lake that day so a nice, lazy cruise back to Little Sand Bay was just what the doctor ordered.