A wayward dinghy and pot bust on a Fudge Capital sail
Late August 2010
About 350 miles
by Jack DeWolf
When we moved to Wisconsin in 1981, I promised my wife Carole we'd only stay three years. Well, it's now 29 years later and we're still here, in part because of the inland sea known as Green Bay and its small extension, Lake Michigan. Having sailed avidly on the Chesapeake, I had no idea the best cruising found outside the Caribbean or Bahamas was right here in our backyard.
Due to a demanding work schedule, most of our sailing has been weekend mini-adventures exploring destinations around the bay. This year, however, we were ready to spread our wings and venture across the pond on our 2006 Catalina 350, Esperance.
In hopes of good weather, I scheduled two weeks off for a sail to Beaver Island at the least and, in a wildly optimistic scenario, a dip into the western end of the North Channel.
After provisioning the boat we cast off to spend a night in Nicolet Bay off the Door's Peninsula Park. We were disappointed to have just missed the tall ships gathering in the City of Green Bay, but hoped to catch sight of one or two as they voyaged to their next stop, Chicago.
What were the chances they would round the Door rather than going through the Sturgeon Bay canal as they had upon arrival?
Much to our delight, we spotted the 165-foot bark, Europa, sailing north near Horseshoe Reef. Then we turned in anticipating an early departure. The next day's forecast was brisk but favorable wind.
AWOL DINGHY
The next morning the breeze was very fresh, and I was horrified to discover our dinghy was missing. I couldn't blame Carole though, because after loosely tying it to the stern pulpit I had neglected to properly secure it before turning in. A scan of the far shoreline near Ephraim revealed nothing, but the wind had to have put it there so we pulled anchor and left the shelter of the park for the 5-foot rollers crashing into shore. If a cruising boat is your home, your dinghy is your car so our trip wasn't going to continue if we couldn't find it.
We motored over to the very shallow Ephraim shoreline hoping for a glimpse of our inflatable which of course still had the outboard on. This was starting to look like an expensive oversight but eagle-eyed Carole spotted it in the surf just north of Ephraim Yacht Harbor.
Pulling as close as we dared, I donned my swim fins and PFD to swim for it. Off the heaving swim platform I went while Carole took the helm and stared circling. I body surfed to the wayward dink and pulled it out from shore with the imagery of Tom Hanks trying to get past the breakers surrounding his island in Castaway.
Too shallow and rough for the outboard, I rowed trying to keep the dinghy from flipping backwards as the wind and waves got under the bow and lifted it.
Once past the surf zone I got the Mercury going and realized it was too rough to approach Esperance so I headed for the lee of Horseshoe Island, a little more than a mile away. The wind was louder than my yells and I hoped Carole would understand my strategy. She did, and followed me and the dink.
The next excitement was the partial deployment of the genoa. I watched helplessly as my wife used the autopilot and re-furled the wayward sail. Oh boy! The meter was really starting to run on this vacation!
Once behind Horseshoe Island we were out of the waves and able to secure the dinghy. Now we could set sail for Death's Door, where we caught another view of Europa. She was on Lake Michigan, then disappeared over the horizon, screaming along.
At the tip of the Peninsula is Pilot Island with a picturesque lighthouse. It was previously a delightful place but these days, if you're unlucky enough to approach from the downwind side, the odor of the cormorants defies description.
With Beaver Island as our goal, we sailed with strong following seas almost dead downwind. As morning turned into afternoon, with Rock Island still visible over the transom, we could see the giant sand dunes of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. 420 feet of water under the keel reaffirmed we weren't in Kansas anymore.
BEAVER ISLAND ATTRACTIONS
By the time we got a fix on northern Beaver Island it was starting to get dark and by the time we motored into St. James Harbor on the island's northeast side it was close to midnight. Our chart-plotter guided us through a series of 90-degree turns while dodging extreme shoals in a new-to-us anchorage. After dropping the Delta we fell fast asleep.
The next morning we took our much-appreciated dinghy ashore and had a wonderful breakfast at a restaurant facing the harbor. The sound of a helicopter got everyone's attention and soon a black, unmarked whirlybird landed in the field next to the eatery. We didn't see any people coming or going but we assumed it was a VIP or medical evacuation. Then it lifted off and flew south in the direction of Charlevoix.
After breakfast we walked over to the Beaver Island Marina to see what was what. The marina owner offered a car to rent and sightseeing suggestions. Then, as we were leaving, I asked her employee if she know anything about the helicopter. "Oh," she smiled. "That was my boyfriend giving me a lift back to the island since I had to work today. It only takes 20 minutes versus the 2 1/2 hours on the ferry."
We drove the Geo Tracker around the island and took in the sights. Highlighted on the tourist map was The Big Rock and, according to the locals, a must-see, The Big Tree. There were also nice beaches and interesting decorations such as the bicycle with flowers.
The island's history is most interesting. At one time it was a kingdom, possibly the only one in the U.S. of its kind, led by the renegade Mormon James Strang. His followers displaced non-Mormon island people and even created their own Michigan County (Manitou) which was later reversed by the Michigan legislature after Strang was assassinated.
To this day, Beaver isn't very welcoming to people of that faith. There are a lot of Irish flags, however, as the descendants from Ireland proudly proclaim their heritage on "The Emerald Isle" of Lake Michigan.
After returning the rental, we explored the state marina and found free wi-fi in the chamber of commerce. Cell coverage is spotty on the island just to remind you that you're off the beaten track. After a nice meal we retired and awoke the next day to light air for our journey east to the Mackinac Straits. Along the way we saw functional and non-functional lighthouses, not on dry land as we expect in Wisconsin, but in the water.
MIGHTY MAC & FRIENDS
It was thrilling to see the Mackinac Bridge, pictured here from a distance of about 15 miles, its white piers visible long before its roadway.
We arrived at the bridge flying wing-on-wing with the whisker pole proving its worth. The bridge workers must have been Yoopers and not Trolls because they were friendly!
Once past the bridge, Mackinac Island's high bluffs loom. They were strategic during the contested ownership era involving the British, Americans, French, and Indians.
Cool a place as this island is, we prefer less chaotic environments so we swung north into St. Ignace and had a little crosswind docking drama in front of a Jimmy Buffett tribute concert. This really would have been an ideal time to make a flawless landing but we understand the importance of humility.
We were pleased that Janet, a dear Pennsylvania high school friend, was able to meet us and spend the weekend aboard.
With the weather deteriorating, we opted to become Fudgies and take the Star Line Ferry to Mackinac. The island excludes virtually all automobiles, so we rented bikes and rode around the perimeter. We saw some very cool buildings and a lot of horses.
Perhaps the high point of our island trip was a visit to the home of one of Janet's friends. She had a magnificent view of the harbor and we enjoyed being squatters on her veranda.
Next we took the ferry back to the marina and, after having a wonderful meal ashore, were starting to suspect much of our provisioning was overkill. The next morning we bid adieu to Janet and after she left we sailed around Mackinac while deliberating our next steps. We were in Lake Huron so the North Channel was within our grasp. But we had also seen intense wind mostly out of the west—the direction we need to progress if were ever going to get back.
So when an easterly wind appeared, we knew we shouldn't waste the opportunity: Back under the bridge and on to Beaver Island it was. After anchoring in the now-familiar place, we had a nice chat with some folks on a 34-foot sailboat we had "raced" most of the way from the bridge.
We cooked aboard that night and left early (real early) the next morning for Washington Island. Light air built a little and we zipped into Peterson Bay then, while making our way past a flotilla of sailboats, one of the skippers yelled over inviting us for brownies. We set the anchor and Carole was thinking it was bedtime but I prevailed and we commissioned the dinghy for a ride over to meet our new neighbors.
CEMENT WORK & COPS
Upon arrival somebody asked if I was a dentist. Now keep in mind that media portrayals of dentists don't tend to be kind and to be instantly pegged as one was a bit disconcerting. To make a long story short, one in the group had a temporary crown come loose and I happened to have some temporary cement in my shaving kit so I was able to get her patched up. New BFF and a sailor to boot!
Somehow we all held ground that night as the wind built to 20-plus knots out of the south. Since we were up early and not in a rush to get home, we decided to join the group heading up to Fayette the next day. The next morning found us leading the fleet in 6-foot seas again wing-on-wing with the whisker pole set for a sprint.
Peeking into Snail Shell Harbor we were shocked to find a mob scene!
The large powerboat in the foreground is Nest Egg, owned by the owners of our home port, Nest Egg Marine. Apparently Jon and Sue had set out for Mackinac when the strong winds forced a change of plan and destination. We were two boats deep off the dock in a place most of us had all to ourselves in the past.
While tied up en masse, Delta County Michigan law enforcement came roaring by in a high speed powerboat. They had just confiscated bales of marijuana which they offloaded in a squad car and, if not for the very serious faces and sidearms, we could have had fun with the possibilities of that chance encounter.
The next day our new friends left for Escanaba and we remained at Fayette, a stunning restoration of an 1800s vintage charcoal pig-iron manufacturing town that the State of Michigan has outdone itself with.
The next morning the wind had eased so we set sail for Marinette at a distance of almost 60 miles. Progressing south on the bay of Green Bay, the wind swung closer to our nose as we started to see more of the commercial craft that are commonplace near our home port. Close hauled and heeling, we picked up the familiar red lighthouse marking the entrance to the Menominee River.
A freighter hauling wind turbine parts passed us, then anchored in the bay waiting for the wind to die down so a tug could assist it upriver. It was quite a shoehorning operation fitting that ship through the Ogden Street Bridge.
We rigged fenders and docking lines and stowed sailing gear as August, and out trip, drew to a close. We'd met old friends and made new ones and our hope next year is to explore the Manitous with our marina neighbors Chuck and Carole, and possibly venture a little further east into the North Channel.
It was good to see the Coast Guard out and about—and it was even better not have needed their services! 
• • •
Jack and
Carole grew up on the East Coast, sailing in New England and the Chesapeake,
primarily. A public health
scholarship brought them to Wisconsin in 1981 to work in a rural health dental
clinic. They arrived here not knowing a soul in the state with their 2 month
old daughter who now is practicing dentistry back in Massachusetts. This year they celebrated their 35th wedding anniversary.
© 2010 Jack DeWolf