Tribulations on (and in) Gitchi Gummi
As we left Big Bay early Monday morning, the weather was fantastic. The skies were clear with a perfect East wind settling to around 10 knots just as our sails were raised. For the next two hours, we experienced some of our fastest sailing of the summer.
After nearly two hours of heading West, we began to notice how the West horizon was becoming dark and gloomy. The weather forecast had mention a possibility of showers, but these clouds seemed pretty dark to be just rain. I thought about turning and heading back to Big Bay, but we had gone too far. The Huron Islands were already in site just up ahead. As we proceeded, the clouds developed very quickly. After what seemed like 30 minutes, the clouds had developed into a massive storm that had grown into billowing thunder accompanied by National Weather Service Storm warnings for the Keweenaw through Huron Big Bay region. We took down out jib sail, but just as we scrambled to lower the main, an enormous gust hit us from the West. I was at the helm as we got completely knocked over. This happens when a sail catches a stronger than normal wind from the side, causing the boat to heel to one side farther than the boat was designed for. In our case, the portside wench was well skimming the surface of the water. I was standing in the cockpit trying to turn into the wind while Megan pulled the jib that had blew overboard out of the water. Somehow I managed to steer upwind, giving us the opportunity to lower our main sail. Earlier in the day we had untied the line that holds the boom perpendicular to the mast because it was incorrectly tied too tight which gave our mainsail a bit of a flutter. Because of this, when we lowered our main, tension was released and the boom fell and blew overboard. By this time, the rain had begun. The strong winds mixed with heavy rain hurt my eyes and made it difficult to communicate. After we had secure the two sails and re-attached the boom, we killed the engine and retreated into the cabin to call for help. On channel 16, we got in touch with the U.S. Coast Guard. They set us up on a 15 minute schedule of communication and helped us navigate to some temporary shelter in the Huron Islands. As we were relaying our coordinates and information, things in our cabin were falling and shifting. I remember the sound of our holding tank sloshing around under our bed. The rugs were soaked and one of our guide books and been unbounded and was spread out in the bathroom and bedroom. We could barely see out our windows. Although I have trouble measuring the size of waves, I would say that 8-12 foot waves would be a conservative guess based off the rocking. In this same gust, the head foil (the slider piece that secures the jib to the head stay) broke in two pieces under the strain of the wind. Megan managed to salvage one side, but the was blown overboard and was immediately swept into oblivion. After about 20 minutes of holding whatever we could to stay on our feet, the storm seemed to have passed. We came out of the cabin and had no choice but to continue at full speed (a whopping 5.1 knots) towards the Huron Islands, hoping to find a bit of refuge before the next squall formed.
In 45 minutes, we were motoring into the West side of West Huron Island. On the chart, it showed a tiny bay that would shield use from the continuous East wind and maybe provide a spot to drop anchor before another quickly forming squall came from the West. We dropped anchor in 9 feet of water. As we were motoring backwards to set the anchor, we somehow backed over our "supposedly" floating dinghy line. It wrapped around the prop. The squall was forming very quickly and we knew how fast the last one came. The only option we had was to get the line free. I geared up with my snorkeling equipment and slipped into the water. Fortunately the line had only been twisted in loose knots that I could untwist with in one breath. I came up and jump on deck just as the rain and heavy wind hit. Our anchor immediately began to drag on the pebble ground. We pulled the anchor in and began to motor into the wind, trying to stay close enough to shore to be sheltered while dodging underwater boulders and what looked like an old shipwreck. This squall seemed to have come faster than the last. Because of this, the rain and wind died down in 15 or so minutes. We continued Westward towards the Keweenaw. We had decided that because the weather was going to be just as bad the following day that we should make shoot into the refuge of the Portage Canal by sundown. After the storm blew over, the strong Eastern wind picked up again. As we motored West, the waves were huge, fast, and come directly from behind us. We were very lucky for the wind direction because this meant that we could surf the waves. If the waves we moving towards the East, we would have would have experienced a much rougher ride (something like sailing off a 15 foot jump over and over) as well as much slower progress. My abs and thighs got sore from continuously pushing and pulling on the tiller in order to keep of pointing with the waves. These waves were the largest I have seen. When we would be in the trough of the wave, even at the helm of a 27 foot boat, we could lose site of land. Thankfully we had an easy heading towards our destination: 270 degrees due West. When we finally got into the Keweenaw Bay, the waves subsided a bit.
Nearly 2 hours later, we finally rounded the lighthouse at the Southern entry to the Portage Canal. We docked at the closest available stop for a breather. We really needed it. The storm had triggered our fight or flight adrenaline discharge earlier that day. I don't think that either of us was willing to lower our guard until we were absolutely out of danger.That meant that my shoulders had been uptight and my heart racing for nearly 6 hours! I noticed that Megan's eyes were blood-shot. We were tired. We inhaled some left-over ham, vegetables and dip, and apple juice from the night before. I called the Hendricksons who were my billet family while playing hockey in Houghton several years earlier. We needed an evening of family, warmth, and most importantly: unmoving land. It took us under two hours to navigate the Portage canal. I was surprised by the canal. There were so many beautiful houses as well as old buildings from the copper boom. Just as we were turning the corner into the Houghton and Hancock valley, out engine died.
It just cut, like I had turned the key. There was not smell or sound. Everything seemed to be working fine. Fortunately, were able to raise part of our mainsail and cruise over to a private dock without into complications. We were too exhausted to get permission, so we simply packed an overnight bag, taped a note to the cabin door saying "Had engine problems, be back tomorrow, hope you understand" and walked to the road. Cheryl Hendrickson picked us up and gave us some much appreciated motherly love and sympathy. We went to their house and enjoyed some hot food and drinks. Before bed, we took a sauna and finally began to relax.
We had experienced a lot that day. Things went very badly for us. Growing up on Lake Superior, I have always respected the lake...from shore. But in a boat, things a much more scary and dangerous. It still makes me nervous to think of how many ways that day could have gotten much worse in a matter of seconds. Thankfully we had drysuits. Thankfully all our steps on deck found traction. Thankfully our engine worked when it needed to. And thankfully we both don't get seasick
Presently we are docked in downtown Houghton (which is free by the way). I replaced the fuel filter and the engine is purring like new. We are still doing our research and making a plan for fixing the head foil. And I think my mom and dad are coming to visit tomorrow. After the storm, we have seriously reevaluated our trip itinerary. Because we probably won't have a jib sail, Houghton may be our most Westerly destination in Lake Superior. Sometime early next week I think we will motor sail back East towards Marquette. While there, we have accumulated quite a few projects before leaving again. Pictures will be coming soon!
I'm torn about the whole issue. Part of me feels that all of this has happened to us because we're greenhorns, because we just didn't have enough experience to tackle Spring cruising in Lake Superior. But on the other hand, I think that we did pretty darn well for what was thrown our way. I think that most of our reactions in the heat of the moment would have closely resembled that of a seasoned sailor. Perhaps the only key difference would have been that while were were 5 miles off shore on Monday, the seasoned sailor would have still been reading a book in the big Bay marina"
On a side note, if you are ever in Houghton, be sure to stop into Victoria's Kitchen on the main drag. $2.79 for a breakfast! Also, there is nothing better than her Turkish style coffee to calm the nerves on a windy or raining day.
-Corey
After nearly two hours of heading West, we began to notice how the West horizon was becoming dark and gloomy. The weather forecast had mention a possibility of showers, but these clouds seemed pretty dark to be just rain. I thought about turning and heading back to Big Bay, but we had gone too far. The Huron Islands were already in site just up ahead. As we proceeded, the clouds developed very quickly. After what seemed like 30 minutes, the clouds had developed into a massive storm that had grown into billowing thunder accompanied by National Weather Service Storm warnings for the Keweenaw through Huron Big Bay region. We took down out jib sail, but just as we scrambled to lower the main, an enormous gust hit us from the West. I was at the helm as we got completely knocked over. This happens when a sail catches a stronger than normal wind from the side, causing the boat to heel to one side farther than the boat was designed for. In our case, the portside wench was well skimming the surface of the water. I was standing in the cockpit trying to turn into the wind while Megan pulled the jib that had blew overboard out of the water. Somehow I managed to steer upwind, giving us the opportunity to lower our main sail. Earlier in the day we had untied the line that holds the boom perpendicular to the mast because it was incorrectly tied too tight which gave our mainsail a bit of a flutter. Because of this, when we lowered our main, tension was released and the boom fell and blew overboard. By this time, the rain had begun. The strong winds mixed with heavy rain hurt my eyes and made it difficult to communicate. After we had secure the two sails and re-attached the boom, we killed the engine and retreated into the cabin to call for help. On channel 16, we got in touch with the U.S. Coast Guard. They set us up on a 15 minute schedule of communication and helped us navigate to some temporary shelter in the Huron Islands. As we were relaying our coordinates and information, things in our cabin were falling and shifting. I remember the sound of our holding tank sloshing around under our bed. The rugs were soaked and one of our guide books and been unbounded and was spread out in the bathroom and bedroom. We could barely see out our windows. Although I have trouble measuring the size of waves, I would say that 8-12 foot waves would be a conservative guess based off the rocking. In this same gust, the head foil (the slider piece that secures the jib to the head stay) broke in two pieces under the strain of the wind. Megan managed to salvage one side, but the was blown overboard and was immediately swept into oblivion. After about 20 minutes of holding whatever we could to stay on our feet, the storm seemed to have passed. We came out of the cabin and had no choice but to continue at full speed (a whopping 5.1 knots) towards the Huron Islands, hoping to find a bit of refuge before the next squall formed.
In 45 minutes, we were motoring into the West side of West Huron Island. On the chart, it showed a tiny bay that would shield use from the continuous East wind and maybe provide a spot to drop anchor before another quickly forming squall came from the West. We dropped anchor in 9 feet of water. As we were motoring backwards to set the anchor, we somehow backed over our "supposedly" floating dinghy line. It wrapped around the prop. The squall was forming very quickly and we knew how fast the last one came. The only option we had was to get the line free. I geared up with my snorkeling equipment and slipped into the water. Fortunately the line had only been twisted in loose knots that I could untwist with in one breath. I came up and jump on deck just as the rain and heavy wind hit. Our anchor immediately began to drag on the pebble ground. We pulled the anchor in and began to motor into the wind, trying to stay close enough to shore to be sheltered while dodging underwater boulders and what looked like an old shipwreck. This squall seemed to have come faster than the last. Because of this, the rain and wind died down in 15 or so minutes. We continued Westward towards the Keweenaw. We had decided that because the weather was going to be just as bad the following day that we should make shoot into the refuge of the Portage Canal by sundown. After the storm blew over, the strong Eastern wind picked up again. As we motored West, the waves were huge, fast, and come directly from behind us. We were very lucky for the wind direction because this meant that we could surf the waves. If the waves we moving towards the East, we would have would have experienced a much rougher ride (something like sailing off a 15 foot jump over and over) as well as much slower progress. My abs and thighs got sore from continuously pushing and pulling on the tiller in order to keep of pointing with the waves. These waves were the largest I have seen. When we would be in the trough of the wave, even at the helm of a 27 foot boat, we could lose site of land. Thankfully we had an easy heading towards our destination: 270 degrees due West. When we finally got into the Keweenaw Bay, the waves subsided a bit.
Nearly 2 hours later, we finally rounded the lighthouse at the Southern entry to the Portage Canal. We docked at the closest available stop for a breather. We really needed it. The storm had triggered our fight or flight adrenaline discharge earlier that day. I don't think that either of us was willing to lower our guard until we were absolutely out of danger.That meant that my shoulders had been uptight and my heart racing for nearly 6 hours! I noticed that Megan's eyes were blood-shot. We were tired. We inhaled some left-over ham, vegetables and dip, and apple juice from the night before. I called the Hendricksons who were my billet family while playing hockey in Houghton several years earlier. We needed an evening of family, warmth, and most importantly: unmoving land. It took us under two hours to navigate the Portage canal. I was surprised by the canal. There were so many beautiful houses as well as old buildings from the copper boom. Just as we were turning the corner into the Houghton and Hancock valley, out engine died.
It just cut, like I had turned the key. There was not smell or sound. Everything seemed to be working fine. Fortunately, were able to raise part of our mainsail and cruise over to a private dock without into complications. We were too exhausted to get permission, so we simply packed an overnight bag, taped a note to the cabin door saying "Had engine problems, be back tomorrow, hope you understand" and walked to the road. Cheryl Hendrickson picked us up and gave us some much appreciated motherly love and sympathy. We went to their house and enjoyed some hot food and drinks. Before bed, we took a sauna and finally began to relax.
We had experienced a lot that day. Things went very badly for us. Growing up on Lake Superior, I have always respected the lake...from shore. But in a boat, things a much more scary and dangerous. It still makes me nervous to think of how many ways that day could have gotten much worse in a matter of seconds. Thankfully we had drysuits. Thankfully all our steps on deck found traction. Thankfully our engine worked when it needed to. And thankfully we both don't get seasick
Presently we are docked in downtown Houghton (which is free by the way). I replaced the fuel filter and the engine is purring like new. We are still doing our research and making a plan for fixing the head foil. And I think my mom and dad are coming to visit tomorrow. After the storm, we have seriously reevaluated our trip itinerary. Because we probably won't have a jib sail, Houghton may be our most Westerly destination in Lake Superior. Sometime early next week I think we will motor sail back East towards Marquette. While there, we have accumulated quite a few projects before leaving again. Pictures will be coming soon!I'm torn about the whole issue. Part of me feels that all of this has happened to us because we're greenhorns, because we just didn't have enough experience to tackle Spring cruising in Lake Superior. But on the other hand, I think that we did pretty darn well for what was thrown our way. I think that most of our reactions in the heat of the moment would have closely resembled that of a seasoned sailor. Perhaps the only key difference would have been that while were were 5 miles off shore on Monday, the seasoned sailor would have still been reading a book in the big Bay marina"
On a side note, if you are ever in Houghton, be sure to stop into Victoria's Kitchen on the main drag. $2.79 for a breakfast! Also, there is nothing better than her Turkish style coffee to calm the nerves on a windy or raining day.
-Corey
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