West Wight Potter Owner's Home Port
Sailing Stories
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Anne J. Westlund
Box 129
DeTour Vlg., MI 49725
September 18, 2002
CIRCUMNAVIGATION OF THE NORTH CHANNEL, LAKE HURON 2002:
VOYAGE OF THE PEAPOD, A WEST WIGHT POTTER 15
It's August 2002. I've been back from my cruise for about seven days. I'm frustrated by the non-moving
land, phone calls, noise of cars and slamming doors so I launch again and high tail it for the bays and
islands north of Drummond Island. My goal is quiet and a chance to write up my solo circumnavigation
of the North Channel.
Finally, anchored in a little cove within the larger bay of the East Harbor of Harbor Island I take out my
inkpot and pen, a legal pad and listen to the silence. It is a large silence sometimes punctuated by
distant sounds of the ferry that serves DeTour Village on the mainland and the large, Drummond Island.
Occasional lake and salty freighters ply the passage up toward Lake Superior or Lake Huron.
Sometimes they salute one another with their resonant horns, a sound that is welcome, non-disruptive
to the task at hand. Birds chirp and call in the woods. A cricket saws. Plops of frogs or feeding fishes
circle on the calm water. I settle down to write about a twenty-nine day voyage of exploration and
enjoyment.
This anchorage was my first night's goal on my cruise but I went some 20 miles beyond it to the tiny,
snail shell Pilot's Cove at the east end of Drummond Island. Early in the morning of July 1st I went to
the launch ramp, rigged and launched Peapod then took my car and trailer home two blocks up the hill.
Walking back I could see the summer's heat laying down the still water. DeTour Village was quiet. It
was really early for most tourists and a few locals were on their ways to work. The siren announcing
the shift start at the quarry on Drummond Island punctuated my walk. Gaining the launch site I boarded
Peapod and cast off, motoring by the rocky shallows in the narrow way out of the harbor mouth. No one
else was stirring, not even the fishermen.
In calms, I motored over to the north side of Drummond Island, going past Harbor Island and some of
the fifty-three state owned islands in the area. It was too early to quit for the day and calm conditions
are just too easy for motoring to not keep going. By the time I cleared the northern tip of large
Drummond Island I found enough wind to head off east then south-east in decent fashion. It was a
sparkling, warm summer day.
Unfortunately I couldn't see the spectacular geologic formations and boulders under the clear waters I'd
seen before from my sea kayak. Several hours later, putting in toward the large, white-painted boulder
on shore, a sharp left took me through the very narrow opening in the gravel bar to Pilot Cove. No one
else was there. I was astounded.
In July this little jewel is a shared anchorage. Alone, I crept into the deepest part of the cove; the most
protected place and dropped the stern anchor. Motoring in slowly, ever so slowly, I snubbed Peapod
off, shut the motor off, and stepped onto the gravely sand bottom in about eight inches of water. Going
forward I took up the bow anchor, paid out about 20 ft. of chain and rode, cleated it and set the anchor
in the sandy shore above the high water mark.
Silence reigned except for breaking waves on the outter part of the spit protecting the cove. I walked
over the bar through the trees. No one around. Stripped, I swam in the bay and cooled off. In spite of
wind it was a warm day. The cool waters refreshed and cleansed me. I'd been underway about eight
hours. Not a bad trip. Twenty-eight miles more or less, one stop for a swim by the north end of Harbor
Island, and not much meandering. Half was motored, the other half sailed. After an easy day, delightful
sail, a secure and quiet anchorage made for a contented captain.
The little cove remained my solo spot all night. I turned in at dusk after a good supper of "bubbles and
squeak" (potatoes fried with sweet onions) with slices of jaeger sausage and tinned peas. Fresh fruit
topped off the easy one-pan meal. Breakfast was hot coffee and hand-fed dry Cherrio cereal taken as I
motored out of the cove.
Around the point was the Marblehead highlands that mark the east end of Drummond Island. Across
False DeTour Channel is Cockburn Island (pronounce it Co-burn). Tolsmaville is the name of the
settlement there and it is considered a ghost town. Old lumbering days are long gone and some folks
have returned to the empty homes to use them in the summers. I had not been there before. With a
reefed main and working jib I skipped, slid, flew and banged across the wave strewn channel making
incredibly fast time on a abaft beam reach. As I approached the harbor entrance I could see flag waves
flying, boats "dressed" and fancy. It seems there is a Tug Boat Race in Sault Ste. Marie on July 1st,
Canada day. One of the tugs that lives at Tolsmaville in the summer, wintering in Thessalon, Ontario,
had won the race again. The tugs were beautifully decked out.
I went on deep into the harbor to anchor. Legally now I was in Canada I had to clear customs or not go
ashore. I anchored further in near the village beach in crystal clear water over pure white sands. Since
going ashore means above the high water line I could wade, swim and stroll the shores for some
exercise. It was early but I decided to stay the day and night. I read, swam, loafed, beach hiked and
napped. Getting away on a trip is always tiring regardless of the numbers of times you do it. Some
stresses are always there. I needed the nap.
July 3rd saw me stopping in Meldrum Bay for the call to Customs and to receive my "pass" number.
Little boats are not subject to the same rules as big boats so no formalities took place. The lady on the
phone seemed surprised when she asked three things: my birth date, the boat's size and number of
passengers. I guess they don't often get 61-year old/young ladies on fifteen-foot sailboats solo!
I climbed back down the six or so feet of the wharf to get back on Peapod thinking I'd much rather have
a low dock next time, and would insist on it or beach the boat. No more high wharves for my tiny boat A
lesson learned since a huge motor yacht had come into the wharf while I was on the phone with a
dinghy larger than Peapod! I was afraid of being squished.
Between Meldrum and Tolsmaville is the Missassagi Straits. It has a reputation for nasty seas,
conflicting currents and wind gathering. I passed it with no indication of its normal behaviors. Sailing the
entire way, from weighing anchor to the dock in Meldrum, the seas were decent and winds favorable. It
was another beautiful sail. And, after the call to Canadian Customs to check in, I proceeded to sail
north again and around the point into two-part Vidal Bay.
Deep in west bay is a creek of hot, tannic waters coming off the island through swamps and beaver
ponds. Kind of like a large hot tub it felt. And, a place to take Peapod up into if the weather turned
frightful out of the north. Meantime I anchored in the bay on the gravel shelf on the sandy shores. Again
swimming was wonderful after the warm day's sail and stop at Meldrum Bay. I explored the shores,
swam over my stern anchor, a Super Max 10#'er, and checked out the life in the region.
There were tracks of heron, fox, raccoon, deer and coyote on the sandy beaches. One other sailboat
came in and anchored further up the bay in deeper water. Nice for privacy when you are on a really
shoal draft boat! There were peeled sticklets in the water from local beavers. I suspected they drifted
down the creek into the bay, as there was no sign of "bank" beaver homes along the shores.
This pattern of movement and anchorage continued through July 29th as I circumnavigated the entire
North Channel. I went east as far as Baie Fine and up into MacGregor Bay, into Bay of Islands and
along the much favored islands of the Benjamin Group, the Whalesback, Beardrop, Long Pt. Cove,
Turnbull Islands, and so on.
Then I skirted the north shoreline stopping off at Blind River, Bruce Mines, Richard's Landing in the
Saint Joseph Channel on St. Joseph Island. From there I entered freighter alley, the route north and
south from DeTour Passage and up to Sault Ste. Marie and the Soo Locks into Lake Superior. On the
way up I saw six freighters passing me as I hugged the far east part of the buoyed channel and seven
on the way south; again I hugged the far side of the channel. Their waves do not bother the my little
boat as they are restricted to 6 knots and make only a gentle swell - that is if you keep well away from
those monsters!
A walleye tournament was in progress so I got buzzed by hundreds of bass-type boats, and they throw
a nasty choppy wave. Bounced to death I anchored near the Municipal Marina on the river, called a
friend and escaped to Wal-Mart to develop photos and from there, go out to eat! We even went
browsing at the bookstore! By then I was out of reading material. It felt good to get a chance to shop
and re-stock some of the things I was out of on Peapod. After sharing the photos I spent the night on
the boat, and slept well in spite of the noisy street near the anchorage. Wrecked barges were on all
sides and the bottom was muddy. Across from the grassy anchorage were the spoil islands from the
channel dredging. I had canoed there years ago and that's how I found the anchorage.
To leave the next day, July 27th, I poled out with the boat hook to skirt past the nasty treenails sticking
out of the old, wooden barges. I motored on down the huge river to Lime Island.
I stayed two nights "camping" at Lime Island by the old freighter fuel dock. The island is part of the
Water Trail for Michigan and is part of a national effort to have camping along the water routes from the
east to the west coasts in the United States and Canada. The island is eight miles from home and is
administered as a state park.
I got up early the second day there after a windy lay-over day, scurried home to DeTour Village,
derigged and parked Peapod at home just as the sky opened up to dump several inches of rain
punctuated by thunder and lightning ending my twenty-nine day cruise.
Some specifics:
Cruising on a fifteen-foot sailboat is a bit like backpacking. There is no effective storage to get stuff out
of the way, and you can't take much. Typical boat stuff has to be put on board first. All the safety gear,
large first aid kit, toiletries, clothing for hot and cold weather, wet and dry weather, comfort, etc., a
sleeping bag, pillow, lots of books, appropriate charts and parallel rules, dividers, an older hand-held
Ray Jefferson VHF radio (to be replaced by a small permanent waterproof 25 watt VHF), A Lorance
Global 100 GPS (like new with CD & all kinds of maps etc,computer interface, 12 volt adapter and so
on...It's for sale for $100.00 as I don't use it!),a small Mini-Class B EPIRB, orange distress flag, bivy
sack, and so on were packed aboard. Food was in a Rubbermaid bin, cooking stove and tools, pots
and fry pan in their own container. Fresh potatoes, onions, bananas, carrots, and such were wrapped
in a white, soaking wet towel and stashed aft in the cockpit. As long as the white towel was kept wet
the fresh foods kept very well.
I carried three metal fuel bottles of gasoline for my Honda 2Hp/4str. Motor and one plastic gallon can.
All together I had about 1.67 gallons of fuel and burned about 22 fluid ounces per hour-and one-half if
not bucking high winds or waves. Mostly I motored in the calms. I like to get up early and often that is
not a windy time in the North Channel in July, so I motored. If there was any wind at all I sailed. In the
end I found I had sailed about half the time over the entire cruise.
Peapod feels like a much larger boat underway and I have a distorted feeling for her scale. When I see
another Potter 15 I think they are small, really small. On my boat I feel normal and not small at all. She
sails like a much larger boat and makes excellent time on the water, whether sailing or motoring. I love
to be able to beach cruise and step out of the boat over the side (no ladder needed) when I go ashore.
The zone between land and water, the margin, is the richest of zones. It's here you will see lots of bird
life, the small water mammals, and some of the larger ones. I saw lots of herons, seagulls, terns, sand
hill cranes, deer, otters, muskrats, beavers, bear (one), raccoons, bats, osprey, bald and golden
eagles, sandpipers, songbirds, and so on. The plant life is also diverse and dense with different
species. A wildflower guide is a must as is the bird book and I always pack them aboard when cruising.
Squirrels chatter at you as you sail by in shoal waters, and chipmunks will investigate your anchor on
shore. No wildlife invaded my boat while anchored as I pull it out into somewhat deeper water at night.
There is a risk of mice or critters getting aboard when tied to shore if you are right against the rocks.
Sailing along in the silence of wind, waves and birdsong is one of the reasons to sail a shoal draft small
boat. The silence of this noise is the best of all worlds. I can think of no other delight quite like turning
off the wee motor to the song of birds announcing the sunny day.
Binoculars should be large and good for light gathering. My cheap ones do just fine and I don't think
expensive ones are needed. As we often do, anticipation is difficult and we try to "get there" before we
are close enough to see where we are, especially in islands, lots of islands. Trusting the compass, the
charts and your own learned skills is important to piloting the region of the North Channel, some of
which was last charted in 1844. New charts rely heavily on the old soundings. Granite doesn't change
much in 150 years. My GPS wasn't needed at all. No fog, no visibility problems; and, there is little or no
night sailing in the area as there are no night buoys or lights, and no need to move at night.
Weather reports are excellent on the Canadian Maritime channels. They are reliable and up-to-date.
The North Channel is treated like it has its own weather so there is a direct focus on what might
happen there. When weather permitted I sailed and motored the rest. Although my schedule was rather
open-ended, I did what it took to get from place to place as needed. I was surprised by the half-in-half
nature of the travel. I think I motored more at the beginning of the trip to be sure I was covering the
some 400 Nautical Miles I planned to explore. The last few days of the trip were motoring some long
distances due to no wind. Had I waited I could have sailed far more by starting out later in the day and
simply waiting for good winds.
Being in the sunshine of a beautiful July meant wearing my sun protection clothing, a hat and lots of
sunscreen each day. I came home quite tanned regardless, but I did feel protected. Canadian weather
reports give the sun index each day and often it was in the high ranges. That is one of the reasons I
moved earlier in the day when the sun was lower. I got into anchorages early and put up the awning for
the balance of the day to keep out of the sun.
I filter or boil drinking water. Deep off shore the water may be potable but filtering is surer. If you plan to
boil water take extra fuel and plan on cooling time before bottling. I found my Hiker Pur filter to do very
well and it has held up well. I start each new season with a new filter cartridge. Any water used in
cooking is used from the lake and boiled well, then used with the foods. Even pancakes can be mixed
with lake water as they are steamed inside as they cook, and that's hot! Blueberries and raspberries
can supplement your food on a North Channel cruise. Fishing is good throughout the North Channel
islands.
I almost always anchor in really shallow waters and watch other boaters come visit in their dinghies just
to see what type boat Peapod is, or "envy you in the shoal waters". Conversations were easily struck
up and no one traveling the region need feel truly alone. I did travel solo but did not feel the least bit
isolated. Some of the places I visited I had been to many times before, some as far back as the early
70's. There seem to be many more motor boats now and lots of sailboats. Most are really large.
Because Peapod is so small I felt like the North Channel expanded for me, it was larger. I had many
more options for anchorage's and hide-out holes. Pocket coves and beaches became my "spots".
Never did I see another boat the size or even near the size of mine.
I know one other Potter 15 was in the Benjamin Islands area in July be we did not see each other out
there. I find that Peapod disappears against the shoreline when her green hull and little mast blend into
the background of firs, birches and rocks. Sometimes you have to be quite close to notice her unless
the white sails are up. I covered the mainsail with the green cover so that contributed to the blending
into the background. Her awning is of white and green striped Sunbrella and made like a curved top to
a wagon crossing the plains. A cabana effect very visible from the water. Often other sailors in dinghies
would come by to check out Peapod and the really shoal anchorage.