Not a lot of water under the keel since I last wrote, but many ports of call: Thessalon to Long Point Cove; Long Point Cove to John Harbor; John Harbor to Gore Bay; Gore Bay to Eagle Island; Eagle Island to Matheson Island; Matheson Island to Timkin Bay in the Bay of Islands; Timkin Bay to Sturgeon Cove.
We checked in with Canadian Customs at Thessalon. A phone call to CANPASS brings a pleasant voice that welcomes Carrie Rose back. Canada’s main concerns are guns (including pepper spray), booze and tobacco. Since we only have a couple bottles of wine and four cans of beer we are of no threat to Canada’s financial stability and are given our Canadian Release number immediately. It is an eleven-digit number that needs to be displayed at all times.
Standing in the harbor office waiting to pay for my slip I eavesdrop on the other captain’s interactions with customs. The first reads a long list of wine, beer and spirits with an accounting of the exact size of each bottle and the amounts, in milliliters of course, remaining in each bottle. The next captain owns up to what sounds like a lot less to me, and is then informed he has too much wine and will need to pay tax. While he searches for his charge card, mumbling quiet expletives to himself someone on the other end realizes that the clerk who’s fiduciary responsibility it is to collect the tariff is at lunch and the entire process is dropped. The enforcement of the alcohol tariff appears to be somewhat arbitrary. Oh Canada!
WEST INTO THE COVE
THE WAY OUT
We left in the morning on a 38 nm run straight east to Long Point Cove (LPC). LPC is a tiny secluded patch of water that has the distinction of being sonically challenged. A large lime plant sits unseen on the mainland. It crushes rock 24/7 and thus there is a constant din. But due to LPC incredible beauty this flaw is easily over looked. For many boats coming from the west LPC is the start of their North Channel adventure. It is a convivial anticipatory crowd despite the fact that it can get quite crowded.
JOHN HARBOR EAST ANCHORAGE
BLUEBERRY MANIA
We are off the big water and no longer need to put in long days cruising to the next refuge. John Harbor is a scenic seven nm from LPC. After a peaceful sleep we awake late, have a leisurely breakfast and take our time washing mud off the anchor. The three of us glide the hour and a half it takes to drop anchor in a passage between John and Dewdney Islands. Here Charlotte and I pick our first ever North Channel blueberry at Dolly’s secret location, a short dinghy ride from where we anchor. That night’s dinner consisted of blueberry pancakes. Here we met Monique and Bernard who cruise up in their sleek dinghy, and Sue and Mike who spend the summers sailing and fishing. It is a small world in the channel and we will meet up with them again before too long.
LOOKING NORTH OUT THE GORE BAY ENTRANCE
BREAKFAST GUEST
Nordic Tugs are well thought out for wilderness cruising. They have lots of fuel, water, a large holding tank and space for stores. But it is time to head for civilization, so our next stop is across the channel to Gore Bay. Gore Bay is located at the southern end of a steep sided V-shaped bay where it always seems to be windy. Pizza, fresh local fish, ice cream, groceries, hardware, etc., etc., are easily available. This is the second year that Charlotte has purchased local art from the Gore Bay Art Museum. Unfortunately most cruisers miss this little museum. We fill the fridge and the water tanks, pump out the head and wash the boat for the first time since she was launched in May. It is nice to have a clean boat!
ALBIN & CO. PASSES THE ISLET
5:30 ON THE ROCK
Two days later we head north to Eagle Island. We’ve come full circle for on the way to Eagle Island we pass the site of last year’s breakdown. Nobody says a word, maybe out of respect or maybe superstition. Charlotte and I give a nod to the site and moved on.
Eagle is a large harbor with a perfectly placed islet in the center. It has a view of boats cruising east or west through McBean Channel, a major North Channel thoroughfare. The second day we are there the sailboats that shared this harbor with us overnight leave and we tugs have the place to ourselves, quite a sight. We meet on the rocks at 5:30 for cocktails after a day of swimming, blueberry picking and napping.
A FUN RIDE
A FUN HIKE
SUNSET
A WINDY MOONRISE
The weather has been splendid. Each day I watch the barometer rise, but that is to change. To say that Canada’s weather forecasts are terse would be an understatement. I feel lost without the wealth of raw data available from NOAA.
Matheson Island is our next destination. A small narrow island with a bit of sand connecting its two halves it is completely exposed to winds from the NE. We decided to anchor here because there is no mention of a NE wind in the forecast and none of us have ever been there before.
To enter the anchorage we motor around the eastern most point of the island and spook a Bald Eagle, which takes off over the pine trees and quickly disappears. Its erratic depth makes for difficult anchoring; one moment you are in 12 feet, the next in 30. We compromise and all end up too close to the island. Another boat comes in to join us but decides there is not enough room to anchor safely and leaves for nearby island. Then Mike and Sue, the avid fisherman we met at John Harbor, come around the corner and decide to stay.
Once we settle in Dave dinghies over with a plan to hike to Lake La Cloche. The mainland is close so we dinghy over to a small river hidden in the reeds that leads to a waterfall and a mile long trail to the lake. The lake is named after the quartz mountains that surround it. The wind increases while we hike and leads to a rollicking ride home through the waves. Charlotte hoots and hollers each time a wave breaks over the bow sending spray into her face.
Later we gather in the sailboat’s large comfortable cockpit and eat freshly caught Northern Pike simply prepared. We head back to our boats and settle in for the night. At around 0ne in the morning a rush of wind from the NE awakens us. The boats swing around to face the wind with our sterns precariously close to the shoreline’s underwater rock shelf. The wind begins to whistle through the antennas and I see whitecaps racing by. Carrie Rose starts to hobbyhorse and I know that there will be no more sleep tonight. I turn on the GPS to check if our position has changed and thankfully it has not.
Though we sail to the right and left with the anchor chain stretching and groaning we do not move. Charlotte is up now and both of us sit in the pilothouse to wait the wind out—ready to act if need be. But we need not. After several hours the wind quiets and we head for our bunk, but I keep one eye open until morning.
GLACIAL GROVES
UNTOUCHED SCENERY
TIGHT SQUEEZE
Our next harbor is Timkin Bay deep in the Bay of Islands. We weave through one small passage after another replete with cottages posed on inaccessible rocks in a similar vein to Alcatraz. The area has opened up to cruisers since the Canadian Hydrographic Service published a new chart of this area in 2001 replacing one that was drawn in the 1800’s. We pick our way east, then north pass an intersection of sorts by Battleship Island and then make a sharp left turn towards Cow Island, which is not really an island and into Timkin Bay, which does not exist on the chart.
First we anchor north of Cow Island but due to a persistent west winds we move to the lee of a real island and sit there for three days. Dave goes fishing, Bill and Jo wander in their dinghy, and Charlotte and I de-clutter our boat, take sun-showers and make pizza for everyone one night. On Monday Dave decides to take all forty magnificent feet of Sir Tugley Blue into tiny Whitefish Falls so we can see the Whitefish Falls art show. I am sure the town will be talking about his boat for the rest of the summer.
Tonight it is margaritas on “Blue” and tomorrow we will reverse the trip into the Bay of Islands and head for Bell Cove just short of the Waubuno Channel. Then to Little Current for a few days before venturing further to the east towards Georgian Bay.
A PICTURE IS WORTH . . .
But why are we sitting in Sturgeon Cove, because the one spot to anchor in Bell Cove was taken by a large yacht. Sturgeon Cove is well protected and beautiful (I am sure you’re sick of hearing that). It is directly east of Bell Cove. All we had to do was come out and hang a right into Sturgeon Cove, but wait, if it were only that simple. The entrance is described as “tricky” in pamphlet NC-28.5 of Great Lakes Cruising Club Port Pilot and Log Book.
For an area replete with rocks, shoals, reefs and narrow channels a word like tricky gets your attention. The previous week’s destination planning discussions seemed to cement the point that 1/3rd of our threesome had no intention to return there. But while you’re on the water it pays to be flexible. The radio buzzed between us and we backtracked out of Bell, formed ranks and set up to enter Sturgeon Cove.
The entrance has a series of ranges that consist of white triangles painted on rocks and trees. Following these gives one the sensation of The French Connection’s car chase in slow motion. We head straight for one set of exposed rocks, turn sharply left to avoid the submerged rock shelf on our left and head directly for the rocky shore only at the last moment to make a 110 degree right turn into the cove. Of course this all takes place in a manner of seconds. Once in it took four attempts to set the anchor in the proper position. I admit I was rattled.
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