Adventure in the Apostle Islands Part 3

The morning came slowly, but after a horrible night of lying awake in close quarters, on a rocky boat, the crew of the Genius was ready to start the day.  We found the dawn troublesome.  The wind had continued to pick up during the night, agitating the water.  Also, the Genius was on the windward side of Oak Island, so we were getting the full brunt of the effect.  The only solace we had was that the boat hadn’t slipped her anchor, so we found ourselves in the same place that morning.

The decision was made to seek calmer waters and then feed ourselves.  Tim started the motor and steered a course towards the south side of Oak Island and back in the direction we had come the day before.  It was the shortest distance to get around the island.

It took about fifteen minutes to maneuver over to the south side of the island.  Once we were on that side we spotted a small cove.  It wasn’t much to look at, but it was a calm spot and was somewhat sheltered from the wind.  That was where we dropped anchor and fed ourselves. 

That first morning the crew of the Genius enjoyed a hardy breakfast of eggs, hash browns, and sausage patties.  With coffee of course; that just wouldn’t be civilized.  The highlight of the morning came as I finished preparing the sausage patties and announced, “I………..t’s Sausage Time!”  This was met with hysterical laughter.

“You homo,” Mike said, laughing.

“What the fuck man,” Tim said looking at me and also laughing.  “We’re on a small boat with three guys, there is no such thing as ‘sausage time’ on this boat.”

“I see your point,” I replied, realizing the gross error of my impromptu announcement.  I too was also laughing.  I would be hounded the rest of the voyage with reminders of my vocal miscarriage.  So it was on the Genius; no one was safe.

After breakfast everything was cleaned and stowed away so the genius could make way.  We had been very aware of the weather.  The wind had continued to build and the waves were increasing in size.  By the end of our meal the Genius had started to rock to and fro, the cove no longer providing much cover from the elements. 

“There’s no way we can sail against this, or even motor,” Tim said, in considering our options.  “The winds too strong, it will just carry us with it.”  Mike and I agreed with his synopsis of the situation.

“We could move over to the east side of the island and anchor there,” Mike suggested.  That was a good idea, because we certainly couldn’t stay where we were for much longer.   Mike had lived on a sailboat in Alaska and knew we had to find a more secure location.

We had pulled out the map of the Apostle Islands and were quickly running out of options.  The only other possibility was Stockton Island five miles due east of us.  The wind would blow us straight to it. 

Tim, Mike, and I deliberated on the matter and finally chose Stockton Island because it had camp sites and a sheltered marina.  The east side of Oak Island didn’t have so much as a pier and or a palace to land.  At least by what we could determine studying the map.

Wind & Waves

We weighed anchor and set out to run the channel down to Stockton Island.  If we missed it, the wind would carry us straight out into the middle of Lake Superior.  As soon as we cleared the cove the wind started to buffer us hard.  Tim was only using his storm jib and no main.  He had suffered a loss of confidence due to the mast incident and didn’t trust his boat.  However, even with just the storm jib, the genius made 8 knots according to my GPS and went as fast as 8.5 knots during the crossing. 

The waves were immense, maybe the biggest I’d seen on the lake; easily pushing ten feet.  Good thing we were going with them.  Tim was right, there was no way we could alter course, fighting these conditions would be futile.

Mike looking on

Tim had insisted on lifejackets as soon as we started out.  That was the first time he had ever given the order since I had been sailing with him.  It was a good decision, we were putting ourselves at the mercy of the elements and the conditions warranted extra caution.

It was a wild ride.  The Genius was being driven hard down the channel and many times surfed down the face of a wave.  It was a dead run, which was good.  If we had been on a reach the Genius would have healed and we would be taking water.  As it was we were getting plenty wet. 

At one point Tim said, “Wave.”  Right as it hit the side of the boat behind Mike and I, drenching us both.

“Thanks for the warning,” I remarked, looking at Tim.

“No problem, what are friends for,” Tim replied.

“You think you might be able to give a little more warning next time?!” I said to him.

“No.”

“Asshole,” I said, just stating the obvious.  We all laughed.

That was the only time before or since that I’ve experienced waves breaking over the sides of the cockpit on the Genius; she rides pretty high, so they were big. 

Tim, Mike, and I were all very aware of our situation.  However, at no time did we feel that the boat was in dire jeopardy, or else we wouldn’t have attempted the crossing in the first place.  We kept seated and stayed in the cockpit not daring to venture onto the deck to adjust anything.  Tim kept a firm grip on the tiller and was exerting himself to maintain control.  This definitely was no pleasure cruise.

About half way down the channel towards Stockton Island the jib sheets were let go due to the stain the sail was putting on the mast; or perhaps they came undone and none of us caught them in time.  Either way, Tim had been concerned that the mast wouldn’t hold after the prior day’s events, so that eased his mind.  The jib was just left to flutter in the wind; no one was going to attempt to wrestle with it, which would have required one of us to venture onto the bow to do so. 

The sheet was acting like a bull whip and was even snapping.  It eventually worked itself into a massive undoable knot which Tim still keeps as a memento of the occasion.  Even without the jib, the Genius was doing 6.5 knots.  We would find out later that the wind had been blowing at 45 to 50 miles an hour with gusts as high as 65 miles an hour.

There were other boats out on the lake that day, but not many.  And those that were, were getting hammered.  We saw another sailboat trying to make for Bayfield but they weren’t making any headway.  Perhaps, they were even loosing ground.  It was too hard to tell from our position and we had our own problems.  The Genius was doing her best to loose the crew.

Stockton Island came up fast and we started looking for a safe haven.  We could see the marina but it was windward side of the island and was taking the brunt of the gale.  It might prove difficult to navigate through the break wall in these winds, so we searched for another option.  Finally, we spotted a cove, and it was oriented in such a direction that it would provide decent cover.

Apparently, other mariners had the same opinion.  As we approached we could see other sailboats taking refuge in the cove.  The Genius motored in and made her bid for a decent anchorage.  The boat was maneuvered to the leeward side of the cove and within thirty feet of the beach.  Fortunately, with her shallow draft, the Genius was able to move much closer to the beach than bigger boats.  So, we were able to secure a good spot that otherwise would have already been claimed.  The anchor was dropped and the crew breathed a sigh of relief.

Tune in next time for high jinx on Stockton Island…………

Adventure in the Apostle Islands Part 2

“Might as well have a beer,” the idea being put forth by the captain.  With beer in hand, Tim, Mike and I contemplated our situation.  How would we be able to fix the mast and continue our voyage?  We discussed many ideas including motoring back to Bayfield, removing the mast and continuing our trip using the motor.  However, we weren’t going to give up without a fight.

The first attempt was to use the halyards and additional ropes to pull the mast straight.  Unfortunately, the mast had other ideas and wouldn’t sir come to our will.  We threw roped over the spreaders and pulled from all different directions.  The only thing we managed to move was the boat itself; as it would either tip towards us as we tugged, or move in our direction along the dock.  The mast however, was no straighter then it had been when we started.

That exercise took an hour or more an only added to our frustration.  It was at about that time that other boats arrived at the dock.  The first, a large sailboat full of boy scouts coming to Oak Island for a weekend camping trip.  The second was a patrol boat with rangers on it.  Neither proved useful. 

The Boy Scout troop found us curious and inconvenient.  Curious, because they apparently had never seen a boat with a bent mast before; inconvenient, because we were taking up a large amount of dock space where we had strewn a huge amounts of crap off of the Genius.  However, at no time did they ever offer to help us or inquire if we needed help.  The only comment the Scout Leader offered was, “you guys have a motor, you’ll be fine.”  Thanks buddy.  That instance still bugs Tim.  He felt that they should have at least offered.  What the hell, where was the good deed of the day?

The Patrol Boat crew didn’t offer to help either.  They were too busy collecting fees from drop boxes and left as soon as they had gotten what they came for. 

Not that we really needed help, we had come up with a plan and were waiting for the dock to clear so that we could implement it.  In the mean time we took the opportunity to go swimming and cool down.  I even did a cannon ball off the dock as the Patrol Boat pulled away and managed to splash water on their windshield.  Take that you rangers.  Good thing there’s no ordinance for obnoxious swimming behavior.

As soon as we had the dock to ourselves we got to work.  We undid all the rigging and carefully removed the mast from the Genius.  After we got it onto the dock we examined it to make sure it wasn’t damaged beyond repair. 

Luck was with us.  The mast was only bent; there were no cracks or other structural defects.  One of the spreaders was pretty badly mangled, but other then that we were in good shape.

Bear Butt (Dark Spot in the MIddle)

Sometime during the period that we were working on the mast, a bear ventured onto the dock seemingly curious as to what we were doing.  It was a black bear and we had been told earlier that they inhabit many of the islands.  I guess I didn’t expect to see one come out onto the dock.  So, like any naive tourist, what do I do?  Grab my camera of course, and go running down the pier towards the bear.  Smart!  In retrospect, it wasn’t one of my brightest moments.  Fortunately for me, I scared off the bear, but did manage to get a great shot of its ass end as it ran into the woods.  I returned to my friends with a smile on my face.  They just looked at me like I was nuts.

Tim, Mike, and I carried the mast off the dock and towards the woods looking for two stout trees located close to one another.  Instead, we decided to use the drop box, a short cylindrical tube with a slot in it near the top, and the notification bill board in and attempt to straighten the bent mast.  Our first attempt only managed to dislodge the drop box from its hole.  Oops.

"The Sign"

We moved to a different spot, our next attempt, putting the drop box back in place, more or less, as we did so.  On the second try we used the “Oak Island” sign.  A relatively large sign with 4x4 posts securing it to the ground.  The forest had been forgotten; it would have been too hard to walk the extra fifty feet to a couple of useable trees.

Our second attempt worked and the mast was coaxed back into the correct alignment.  The crew then returned to the dock, mast in hand.  We laid it out and arranged all the rigging, to prevent a jumbled mess as we reattached it to the Genius. 

There was still the spreader to deal with.  Without it, the mast would simply bend again once there was any strain on it.  I examined it more closely.  The connection point was a mangled piece of metal that use to attach to the mast.  Tim was convinced that it was hopeless, and we would be forced to go back to Bayfield.  

“I can fix it Tim,” I said, examining the spreader.

“How, it’s completely wanked?”  Tim exclaimed.  “Without it we can’t sail.”

“I know……trust me, I can jury rig it,” I said with confidence.  “I need wire and duct tape.”  The requested items were quickly made available to me, as well as a pair of pliers and most likely, a beer to help me think.

It was actually pretty simple.  I bent the metal back into its former shape and reattached it to the holding bracket on the mast.  I then secured it with wire and covered the whole mess with duct tape.  It wasn’t going anywhere, and was probably stronger then the original attachment.  It looked hideous, like the spreader had a big black tumor on it by the mast.  We were now true trailer sailor trash, and proud of it.

“There you go buddy,” I said to Tim once I had completed the job.  He inspected it and found the repair to be more then adequate.  Our journey could now continue.  That is once we got the mast back on the boat and re-rigged.  I firmly believe every boat should carry wire and duct tape as an essential part of any repair kit.

Within an hour Tim, Mike, and I had the Genius ready to resume her voyage exploring the Apostle Islands.  However, by that time it was getting late and dusk was upon up.  We cooked dinner on the dock, ignoring the posted rules to the contrary.  After all, we were tired from the day’s activities and were in no mood to find a proper picnic area. 

There was only one thing left to do.  Leave the dock and find a place to anchor.  We should have just stayed tied to the dock, but instead moved a couple hundred feet away and anchored the boat.  It would be a rough night.  The wind picked up and the water became very choppy, rocking the boat for the duration.  Tim, who was worried that the Genius would slip her anchor, was up every thirty minutes checking the boat’s position.  None of us got much sleep.

To be continued………….

Adventure in the Apostle Islands

Sorry for the long delay, I've been real busy.

            It was suppose to be a carefree trip, sailing in and around the Apostle Islands on Lake Superior.  The plan was to spend five days cruising around the islands and see the sights the area had to offer.  Maybe even do some hiking on a few of them.

            My friend Tim and I had been discussing the idea for some time and thought it would be a no hassle trip.  The Apostle Islands were close and the cost would be minor, just food and gas.  The only major requirement was a short drive from Marquette Michigan to Bayfield Wisconsin; where we would launch the boat(s).  That being a four hour drive.  We would have sailed there, but that was a four day trip and we had a limited window of time in which to make the cruise happen.

            Mike, another friend of mine, had also elected to join the expedition, or more appropriately, the booze cruise.  Since there were only three people making the trip we concluded that only one boat would be needed.  Had any more crew members signed on we would have brought both boats.  Tim and I argued the point, but in the end decided to take his boat (The Genius) because it was slightly bigger then mine.  Tim’s being a McGregor 23 and mine a Clipper Marine 21 respectively.

            Tim, Mike, and I made the drive to Bayfield on August 14th, 2010.  Along the way, we stopped in Ashland Wisconsin for supplies, arriving shortly there after at our destination; boat and crew in tact, and ready for duty.

            The first thing we did upon arrival in Bayfield was to go to the park headquarters to get information and see about any required permits.  The Apostle Islands National Lakeshore is under the jurisdiction of the National Park Service.  The archipelago consists of twenty six individual islands that extend roughly thirty miles out into Lake Superior, off of Wisconsin.  The islands range in size from a few hundred yards in length and diameter to five miles or more, and are densely forested.   Each island is separated from its brethren by a mile or more; making the area a boaters paradise. 

            I was happy to discover that there were no entrance or user fees in the Apostle Islands.  This surprised me because every other National Park I’d visited required them.  The only exception was a camping or docking fee, which was $10 per night.  However, this could be circumvented if one simply anchored out and slept on the boat; which is exactly what we would do.

            All jacking around completed, the Genius and her crew headed for the boat ramp.  There, we would spend the next hour putting up the rigging and making ready to sail.

            “Tim,” I inquired, “Are you going to attach the forward shrouds?”  I had noticed that they had not been rigged yet.

            “No, we don’t need them,” Tim answered nonchalantly. 

            “Okay, It’s your boat,” I replied, shrugging.

            “Damn right it’s my boat,” Tim said in mocking admonishment, “I’ll tell you when we need the fucking shrouds rigged asshole.”

            “Fuck off,” I retorted; my standard response.  Mike just shook his head, not use to Tim’s and my incessant banter.

            At the time, I didn’t think much about the forward shrouds not being rigged.  A week or so prior we had sailed to the Huron Islands and had not rigged them then either.  However, that was due to some of the hardware being lost in transit not because Tim had been too complacent to rig forward shrouds. 

I’m sure in Tim’s mind, with recent sailing experiences under his belt; he felt the additional rigging on the mast wasn’t required.  He would soon regret that decision, and I would, and still give him endless amounts of crap because of it.  Hey, what are friends for?

Forgive me; just a quick tangent so that you, the reader, will have a better understanding of the complexities regarding the Genius and her rigging.  A couple years ago, and the first time I ever sailed with Tim, we were in a yacht race in high winds.  During that event, Tim’s mast almost broke in two due to the ridiculously large Genoa Tim was using that day.  To alleviate that problem, Tim modified the Genius by adding forward shrouds to his rigging.  The addition of the forward shrouds would prevent the mast from bending due to the high stresses caused by, shall I say, Tim’s style of sailing.  Thus, allowing him to continue using his ridiculously large Genoa in high winds.  There you have it.

Keeping Watch on the Bow

With the boat rigged and the supplies stowed we launched the Genius at the public boat ramp in Bayfield.  Tim then found a suitable parking spot to leave his truck and trailer for the next five days.  As soon as he returned, Tim cast us off and took control of the helm.

The Genius motored her way out of the harbor, past a fleet of different boats of all shapes and sizes, and then out into the open water.  While that was going on the ridiculously large Genoa was made ready for use.  Once we cleared the harbor entrance we headed towards Madeline Island and as we did so hoisted the Genoa.  The Genius was now under full sail and the engine had been shut off.

“Beer,” Tim ordered.  He was just getting settled in for an afternoon of cruising, as was the rest of the crew.  The command was quickly carried out and before you knew it Mike, Tim, and myself were all enjoying the first drink of the day.  None to soon either, I think the crew was on the verge of a mutiny if memory serves.

“Where we going?” someone asked. 

“Anywhere we want,” I said, “or wherever the wind takes us.”  With that, I pulled out the Apostle Islands map I had picked up at the park headquarters.  I spread it out for all to see and captain and crew discussed the options.  With some deliberation and mostly due to a favorable wind direction we changed course and headed north towards Oak Island.  It was all good.

A Happy Crew

The day was warm, the wind was decent, the beer was cold, and the company excellent.  Mike, Tim, and I sat back and watched the many boaters out for an afternoon cruise.  There were sailboats of all descriptions as well as motor boats going to and fro; their destination known only to them.  We also saw commercial vessels such as, small tankers, fishing trawlers, and the ferry to Madeline Island.  It seemed that the Apostle Islands was a very popular place.

At one point we even saw a Coast Guard boat towing a small motor boat back towards Bayfield; the owner of the boat sitting behind a useless wheel, while the passenger looked on.  At least they weren’t sinking. 

It took the Genius a little over an hour to pass Basswood Island and Red Cliff Bay.  We were doing about five knots and had decided to keep on this heading and make for Bear Island about  two or three hours away.

We rounded Red Cliff Point steering outside of the navigation buoy and neared Oak Island.  The wind started to pick up causing the Genius to heal as she increased speed.  That’s when it happened.  Remember the fore shrouds?

WHAM!  A loud sound reverberated through the cockpit.  Mike, Tim, and I were all startled by abrupt noise and looked at each other in puzzlement.

“What in the hell was that?” I said.

“Did we hit something?” Mike added

“I don’t know?” Tim replied. “Check the boat.”  We all began feverishly looking for the cause of our distress.

“It’s the mast,” I said as I looked up at sagging sails.  The mast was bent at an acute angle and was dangerously close to snapping.  This was especially true with the wind still filling the sails, continuing to stress the long metal tube.  It looked like a giant bow being pulled to loose an enormous arrow.

“We have to get those sails down,” I said to no one in particular.  I then sprung into action, heading forward to lower the Genoa.  Apparently, Tim was in agreement with me.  He had Mike take over the helm and was working on the main sail.

Within a couple minutes the sails were down and the stress on the mast was eliminated.  Now what?  We all sat in the cockpit and looked up at the piece of modern art that use to be the mast, and contemplated the question at hand.  We didn’t know what the situation would bring or how we would fix it, but we did come to the conclusion that we couldn’t address the problem while out on the water. 

I checked the map and found a dock located on Oak Island fairly close to our position.  It was the closest dock to us, so we decided to use it in lue of turning back to Bayfield or Redcliff, to see what if anything could be done about the mast.  The motor was started and the Genius made her way towards Oak Island.

Within ten or fifteen minutes we were tied up to the Oak Island dock.  We all got off the Genius and inspected the mast.  Yep, we’re screwed.  It actually looked worse from our perspective standing on the dock.

Docked on Oak Island

 

To be continued……..