Chicago Tug: Interesting Things

In a day all kinds of interesting things happen. After a night repeatedly woken by weird dreams it was decided we should move on. Carrie Rose was in Turnbull Harbor. Quite large, about the size of Montrose Harbor in Chicago but instead of 750 boats there were six of us all swinging on various anchors. To enter there are multiple warnings of submerged rocks, which of course due to low lake levels are no longer submerged.

Aikens Island was to be our next stop. Here we connected with Canadian friends met at last years Nordic Tug rendezvous. They travel in a group of three and their main preoccupation seems to be catching as many fish as possible. The plan is to discuss our trip east to the Trent-Severn waterway. This is one couples yearly trip up and back to the North Channel.

Aikens Island is only 14 nautical miles from Turnbull, so there was no need to rush but of course that is what happened. I quickly entered a route (much easier now that my charts are contained on my MacBook Air). Next we did all the things we do to prepare the ship and ourselves to depart.

I will not bore you with the raising of the anchor other than to say that the nature of the clay on the bottom of most of the North Channel is tenacious. If I were a potter it seems the perfect consistency to make sturdy pots.

Motoring out of Turnbull was much less stressful then motoring in. The cruising guide that we use is rightfully pessimistic on the chances of negotiating some of the more notorious anchorages. Problem is, this mindset—at least for me—begins to infect every anchorage. I have decided that this year before entering any of them I will smile and think pleasant thoughts. Yes, I mean like Mary Poppins’s kind of pleasant thoughts. It is akin to smiling before picking up the phone. Even if you are a grumpy S.O.B, if you smile you’ll sound sweet.

Carrie Rose followed Sir Tugley Blue until the last moment. She, or should I say he, took a shortcut and we went the way of the cruising guide. They thought we were leaving them. In the end it proved prescient. Our friends were lined up with anchors out and sterns tied to the shore with long lines. Sir Tugley Blue had time to accomplish this before we showed up so then it was our turn.

The task entails driving in and picking a spot between two boats and then dropping the anchor far enough out but not too far, for it to set and then to back down on it towards the shore close enough to tie a line to bring the aft of the boat inline with everyone else’s. Lucky one of the dinghies helping coach me in was able to act as a tug and push Carrie Rose’s rear end around. Another coach grabbed my long line and tied it to shore.

With the line to shore I let out more chain and then a voice from a neighboring boat said pull in the line to shore. Between the anchor rode out front and the long line out back we got the boat taut. Hurrah! And this was done in a drizzling mist worthy of the Pacific Northwest.

The other interesting thing was the razor like Dewdney’s Rock just above the surface that I did not noticed until Charlotte mentioned I might want to head further off shore. That was another moment in time and time, after all, is what it is all about for us mortal beings.

6/28/2013