Where WhimSea Takes Us

Posted by Karen A. Brown

Our next trip to the Big Lake took place at the end of September. We were lucky to have such nice weather this late in the season and were looking forward to seeing the wonderful colors along the way.

We packed up on Friday evening and set the alarm for an early morning wake up call. We were on the road way before first light Saturday morning. Because the temperature was starting to drop quite a bit at night, but the water in the area was still somewhat warm, there was a wonderful fog all the way to the lake. As we got closer to our destination and the sun became to come up, we would catch glimpses of bright yellows, reds and oranges through the fog. It was like a fairy tale.

We arrived at the launch site and started setting up the mast. (Boy doesn't the Jeep look funny next to the sailboat?) As you can see we had a couple of things left to load onto the boat, finished putting up the mast and away we could go.

We launched the boat and were off to sail for the day. It was a beautiful day and wonderful sailing weather. We had quite a breeze and spent a lot of time sailing around the islands.

As you can see, Troy is having a great time with this wonderful sailing weather. We spent the day on Saturday sailing around the islands and avoiding fishing nets (there were quite a few out!) Since it was so late in the season there weren't many other boats out on the water, including sailboats. (Most are taken out of the water by labor day).

After a wonderfully full of day sailing (and driving) we were pretty tired and decided to avoid having to do anchor watches by tying up to the dock at the launch site. We tied up and walked around the camping area, spent some time relaxing on the board walk and pier and watched the sunset.

After a restful, albeit cold, night at dock, we got up to an early breakfast and were off for more sailing. We headed out for open water to raise the sails. Once out in the water, we quickly discovered that the wind was variable and indecisive that day. We tried for quite some time to catch the wind, unfortunately she was bouncing off Sand Island and coming from all sorts of odd directions.

We decided instead to use up some of our gas and motor out to look at the lighthouse on Sand. This is a picture of the lighthouse from the water. You can just make out the waves crashing at the rocks at the base of the cliff. The water was coming right off the big water and hitting that side of the island. When we started to come out of the protection of the island we started feeling the effects of this wind. We had thought we would motor around the island, but after feeling that wind, turned around and started heading along the shore on the lee side instead.

Sand island is one of the most interesting islands (in my opinion -- but then again maybe it's because it is the one we've seen most often). Here is a good picture of the caves along the island. The water has really eaten into the side of the cliffs. The sound of the water against the rock is pretty amazing.

Around the corner from these caves are some old buildings from when the island was inhabited (there are still some private residences on this island, but not that many). These buildings look like they are about to fall right into the water. Just a couple more years and you might not know that they were even there.

Just past these houses are some docks put out by the National Parks Department for boats to tie up to. Since out boat needs only a few inches of water, we could motor right on up to the dock and tie up. This dock is right off a public campground on the island that includes a nice trail. Since the day was not amenable to sailing, we decided to tie up and go for a walk.

Here's a picture we took from the trail on Sand Island. The way the sunlight was filtering through the trees and hitting the lone tree showing off it's bright red color was a sight to behold!

At the end of the long trail, you're rewarded with the sight of an old lighthouse. This is the same lighthouse that we saw from the water (picture above) and really is amazing. Made from brick it has an outstanding view of the lake. Up until a little while ago it was an inhabited lighthouse. I just can't imagine being out on that island all by yourself with nothing but the sound of the wind and water to keep you company. You'd have an amazing view of all of the ships that pass by on their way to Duluth and back to Sault St. Marie.

That's me sitting at the door. Gives you an idea of the size of this building.

After our walk around Sand Island, we headed back to dock and pulled the boat out for what would end up being the last time this season. It was somewhat sad to think about, that we wouldn't be back for months.

On the way home we were treated to the sights and smells of the Lake Superior fall.

This last picture was snapped along the way home from the car window (believe it or not we were actually also moving at the time). I've never seen such a variety of colors as I saw that fall. The bright hues of orange, red, yellow and green were quite a contrast to the slate gray of Lake Superior. I would highly recommend going, even for a drive along the coast, if you get the opportunity.

I can hardly wait until this spring and the start of the season. The opportunity to get photos of the awakening of the trees, return of the birds and the flowers is something I heartily look forward to.

Posted by Karen A. Brown

As you can imagine, our first adventure on the Big Lake will be the one we'll always remember.

We set off for our vacation on a bright sunny Friday afternoon determined to get the jump on all others fleeing the city for what is traditionally the last summer weekend. Troy, myself, Troy's mom Judy, all the gear and all the food we accumulated were packed and on the road by 1:30 p.m.

Down the winding roads through central Minnesota and Wisconsin we cut through small towns, fields, and hills in good humor and companionship.

We arrived at the Little Sand Bay around 5:30 p.m. or so and quickly set about raising the mast. We wanted to get on the water and anchored for the night before the sun went down. By 7:30 p.m. we were on our way towards Justice Bay on the northeast side of Sand Island.

The nearby caves were a marvel both to see and to hear. The force of the waves pounding on the island carved out such intricate designs in the hard rock! The sound of the surf pounding against the rock and echoing within the caverns was unbelievable.

We anchored for the evening in Justice Bay, not far away, many sailors lost their lives after their ship, the Sevona, went down in the September storm of 1905. She struck the shoals off the island while seeking shelter from the storm.

We had a quick dinner of stew and set about watching the first sunset on board. It was spectacular. The colors, the sound of the surf along the caves, the glimpse of the moon rising over the nearby island. Words failed us. Within the blink of an eye the sun went down and darkness descended. It was as though someone flipped a switch and turned out the light.

Due to the possibility of a night time wind shift and the proximity of the sea caves, we decided an anchor watch was necessary. We broke the night into three hour chunks and each of us picked a watch. Judy took the first watch, Troy the middle and I had the last watch, so I climbed into bed for the night.

The gentle rocking, the pound of the surf and the total darkness quickly put me into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning, I was roused at 4:00 a.m. for my watch by Troy. He stayed up with me for a bit and gave me the report. We had swung somewhat in the night but our anchors were holding. Up in the cockpit I was struck by the sheer quiet. No other ships were anchored near us, no campers on shore. Only an occasion ship passing to or from Duluth could be seen way off in the distance.

After a short time, Troy went below and I was left with the quiet night. The moon was nearly full that weekend and it lit the shore and the caves with an eerily white glow. Too soon she dropped below the tree line and I was plunged into a darkness so complete I felt enveloped. After a while my eyes became accustomed and the stars began to come out. One by one they came until the night was filled with their glitter. So bright were they that they left light trails on the water.

After some time, dawn broke. Slowly at first, just a tinge of light, barely enough to see the beach on shore. The the island started to come awake. First the birds, then the deer visited the shore. The deer came cautiously, one by one, each sniffing the air and testing the wind before they came out of the cover of the forest until the small beach was nearly full of them. There must have been six to eight deer wandering the beach for an early morning drink.

The experience was one I would repeat any day.

We were rewarded with a good blow that day and Bucephalus kept up a steady heel as we flew towards Devil’s Island. Never before have I experienced the sort of exhilaration that was ours on that Saturday. We’d been sailing Bucephalus on lakes throughout Minnesota, but never with the sustained blow that we had that Saturday morning. The experience would prove to ruin us for all small lakes from that point forward.

We made Devil’s Island in record time passing by the buoys off the shoals of Sand and Bear and rounding the lakeside of Devil’s. There were many boats moored near the island, giving testament to its popularity as a rest stop.

By this time, we were all feeling the lack of sleep that results from an anchor watch. As the skies were beginning to darken with an upcoming shower and lunch time was nearly upon us, we decided to find a place to hole up for lunch and a nap. After rounding Devil’s Island we came across the long neck of Rock Island where there lies a great stretch of beach and a good shelter from a southern blow. It was decided. This would be the place for a nap.

After lunch and a nap we all awoke much refreshed. We decided to try and dock at an island for some exploration and a chance to stretch our legs. Motoring around the islands we found the docks full as well as many inlets that we wished to explore. Apparently we weren't the only ones with the idea!

As luck would have it, the anchorage at Rock Island we were at was the best one. So, we returned to the neck.

When we had been their earlier, during our nap, we took a look at the beach and it looked fairly rocky. Hoping for an opportunity to beach Bucephalus (in other words, sandier shore), we decided to take a look up the beach and try and find a more amenable location. Traveling farther west along the beach, we found a spot that looked relatively clear of rocks and beached her.

We jumped off Bucephalus and touched land for the first time since boarding her yesterday afternoon. It felt somewhat surreal.

We had the beach mostly to ourselves. As it was nearing dinner time, we made a fire and had dinner on the beach. At one point during dinner, Troy looked over at the boat and the water and said. “Look, we have a cabin on Lake Superior!”

After some maneuvering, we finally got back on to the boat, (yes it was easier to get off then back on), backed her up a little bit and anchored for the night. It was relatively early but the wind was picking up and it was too late to find another safe harbor. Though we’d hoped to do some night sailing, it looked as though a storm was brewing so it wasn’t likely to happen that night.

Troy went to bed early with a slight headache and I took the first watch. We had some lightening and thunder off to the south, but it passed us by with nary a glance. The ship traffic that night was significant. The boats lit up and floating across the lake was impressive. Our anchorage had a great view of the shipping lane as it rounded Devils and headed towards Sault St. Marie. One minute there was nothing but you and the open water, the next a host of bright lights floating eerily quiet across the lake.

As Troy took the last watch, I woke Sunday morning to him moving around in the cabin, listening to the weather radio. There was a small craft warning and the winds were beginning to blow. (You can see the ominousness of the sky). We listened to the forecast and determined the best course of action for the day would be to head in to a safer harbor and try to wait it out. The wind was turning and our anchorage on the neck was becoming tenuous.

We raised anchor and headed towards Bear Island. As we rounded Rock Island Troy and I were in the cockpit with Judy in the cabin below. There was a bald eagle gliding the currents off the cliffs of the island. It coasted along the island with us a while, eventually returning to its nest along shore. It was a remarkable sight.

The water was becoming impressive on Sunday. With the wind blowing, the waves were reaching the 6-8 foot range. Though they wouldn't be much to a larger boat, Bucephalus, at 26 feet, wasn't up to the challenge. She did beat through the waves in quick time at motor, bringing us to a relatively safe and popular harbor along Bear for a short rest.

There were a number of other boats in the harbor, all of them larger than ours. You could almost feel the excitement as they readied for sail. This would be a good day for them. After listening to more news reports, we learned that the weather and the wind would not be lifting that day or the next. The small craft warnings would not be lifted. The weekend was over for us. We decided to head in.

After a long and somewhat wet run, we finally reached Little Sand Bay and pulled up along the dock for a brief rest before we pulled Bucephalus out of the water. Though the weekend was cut short we had a wonderful time and were anxious to return to the big water for our next adventure.