Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Trepidation???


Kenosha Yacht Club

Sturgeon Bay, MI

Hard @ work

Keith, Jen & You know who

White Pelicans on Green Bay

Fayette, MI

Bill + Jo = Dolly

Mackinaw City, MI is home for today. It is 5 miles from our destination, the Nordic Tug rendezvous in St. Ignace. The Mackinaw Bridge is visible from our salon window. The weather’s been un-settled with numerous severe thunderstorms and we have had to rush to stay ahead of them. As I write another rip-snorting T-storm has just blown through.

Chicago to Sturgeon Bay took four days, an ambitious passage. Kenosha, Port Washington and Manitowoc were our stopping off points. In Kenosha we visited with the ex-commodore of our yacht club who has moved up north and a colleague of Charlotte’s from her Baxter days. In Sturgeon Bay we tied to the Great Lakes Yacht Services (formerly Palmer Johnson) wall, and had the propane system connected (finally) and the generator maintained.

Jen and Keith came calling in Sturgeon Bay. I, or I should say, Jen made my acquaintance one day at the medical school. I had seen her around but didn’t really know her when she came up to me and said, “Raffaelli you build boats don’t you.” I replied yes. To which she said, “Can I build a kayak in your basement?” and the rest is history.

Fish Creek was next on the agenda to meet up with friends Bill and Jo on Dolly. The first attempt was abortive due to some very deep, steep, closely packed bay waves. It was a day when I know to ignore the official weather broadcast (I think none of them have ever been in a boat) and stay in port. This is especially true when the lack of local knowledge puts me at a disadvantage. But off we went only to return an hour later a little bruised. Doing this used to cause me trepidation, but no longer. It is part of cruising . . . knowing when to run for cover that is!

Dolly and Carrie Rose had a lumpy ride north to Fayette, MI passing multiple islands, the biggest of which is Washington Island, and the infamous Porte Des Morts Passage or Death’s Door. The wind and the waves changed continually as we passed Plum, Washington, Rock, St. Martin, Poverty, Summer (okay, I’ll stop) Islands.

Fayette reminded me of Pompeii. It is a beautifully restored iron-smelting town from the late 1800’s. There is a single dock with no facilities and not a light to be seen. So as not to get trapped there for a week due to, what else, weather we quickly left for Beaver Island because of a very confusing mix of weather reports on channels 1, 2, 3, 4, and 7. Trepidation returned as we were not sure of what to expect on the lake but after the 70 nautical miles and 8 hours it took to get there it was a comfortable ride.

Again the weather beckoned, and the next day we crossed the rest of the lake and the Straits of Mackinac for Mackinaw City. This was not before Carrie Rose ran aground in the soft sand that makes up most of St. James Harbor in Beaver Island. The Harbor Master—quite the character—gave us detailed instructions on the radio for how to approach his marina. Of course I interpreted “stay within 25 feet of the far north piling and take a sharp turn into the channel” as to stay 25 feet from the northern piling and take a leisurely turn in.

He knew I was aground before I did. Quietly he instructed me to take the boat out of gear so as not to further dig in, straighten my rudder and give it full throttle in reverse. Feeling the boat shudder I reached for the throttle, but he anticipated this and gently said, “Okay captain your doing well and don’t touch that throttle!” She eased off and I was guided in.

A one-night layover was decided even though we all wanted to stay longer. Best to head to Mackinaw City and considering what had blown through here it was a wise choice. The next day August Windy, Jenny Jo and Sir Tugley Blue showed up and so we are having a mini rendezvous.

Wednesday we will cross to St Ignace for the remainder of the week. We have traveled more that 300 miles and put 50+ hours on the engine so far and it is only 17 June. Looking forward to the North Channel and some relaxed anchoring.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Conveyance




From Port Washington, WI

We are in Wisconsin now. We got here in our Nordic Tug. It is our conveyance of choice, except that is when we are on terra firma. Then it is a Subaru Outback. The Subaru has a certain cache about it, but it is a boring station wagon. Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining especially when I am trying to get in or out of my garage in a blizzard. Then I think this is the best damn boring station wagon ever made.

What I am noticing here is the multiplicity of Harley Davidsons. Of course I know they are made in Milwaukee. I am not that dumb. But still there are a lot of them and everyone that I see is different. They are all customized to some extent. They are a labor of love, and I am sure that the gruff guys and gals that drive them dream of the low lumbering sound in the middle of the winter.

A friend just bought a hot rod VW. It is 4-wheel drive and for such a small car has a tremendous amount of horsepower. Of course this is not enough horsepower so it will be modified to have even more tremendous horsepower. It seems he thinks it is his last chance to have a muscle car and he is probably correct about this.

I have been thinking in a similar vein. After lusting over a suitable RV, that is if one can lust over an RV, and realizing that a VW camper van was not going to work, I changed tack completely. My new scheme consists of a used Corvette (I have wanted one since I toured the Corvette assembly plant in Tennessee) to travel from national park to national park. I figure I will lease it for the summer from CarMax and trade it in for something more practical in the fall. And for some strange reason Charlotte thinks this is not a bad idea. We will see . . .

This summer, as the last, we are spending three months on Carrie Rose. The only definitive date is to be in St. Ignace, MI by June 20. I think we can do this, weather permitting, but last year to get there a day late we had to motor through the Straits of Mackinac in the fog. My hope is not to repeat this again as I would like to grow old and cantankerous, and every hour spent in dense fog shortens a life equivalently.

Other conveyances I have dreamed of are vintage BMW motorcycles (I have an un-ridden one), a Mazda Miata, a two-seater Mercedes of a certain vintage, a BD-5 (look it up), a Thomas Morris Annie (another one to look up), a Nordhavn 46 (okay, I will quit telling you) and the new, not yet released, Honda Jet. This last one has made me rethink my life. If I had known it would exist I would have tried hard to make a fortune that I could then squander on a machine like this.

For the time being I am not doing too bad. For me it has always been essential to dream, actually daydream. All those idle thoughts that coalesce without knowing it, and then one day the stuff you thought you were wasting your time dreaming about comes true. It is amazing when it does. It is as if you need to be careful what you wish for because you just might get it.

I suppose this is what the conveyance is about. Not so much rubber on the road, water under the keel or wind over the wings. It is the realization of a dream.