Start: Sanford Island (which we are proposing to rename to ‘Blueberry Island’, 0545
End: Drummond Island Yacht Haven, Drummond, MI, USA! 1430
Total Distance: 45.8 nm
Average Speed: 5.2 kts
Did you know that the iPhone alarm, along with sounding off with an annoying ring tone, also causes the phone to vibrate? So much so that the phone, if ignored long enough, will walk its way off of the table and throw itself to the ground in an attempt to either turn itself off or do itself in. Assuming Siri has reached sentience, of course.
The alarm, ignored as long as possible by the two of us, finally got us out of the bed at 0532.
(Digression: There are five living things on this boat, not counting the 1,500 mosquitoes1, 200 spiders, 20 moths, 15 mothions, and 7 worms (waiting to die fruitlessly on a hook). The dog and cat who are awake daily by 0500 waiting for someone to lift the magic floorboard (where their food is kept) and feed them. Jan and I. And AJ. Who can sleep through loud noised, huge seas, fireworks, almost anything. Other than the calling of either his bladder or his stomach. Digression off)
Our day yesterday sucked pretty hard for about three hours 2. We were fighting into the wind and waves on the way to our island anchorage and our idea was to get out really early to beat the said wind/waves for at least a couple of hours since we had an almost 50 mile trip ahead of us. And moving at 4 knots into waves (simple math says 12.5 hours) was NOT what we wanted to do. The weather today is perhaps hopeful at least until noon. The wind is 10 mph from the SW and if we set our course right, we can get a sail up and get some help from the wind to move us along a bit quicker and also help us get through the waves. At 2pm the wind switches to the south so the last eight miles will be straight on our nose and nothing we can do about that.
So that was the analysis we conducted last night as we basked in the sunset with our full bellies. And we set our alarm. And damned if the thing didn’t go off and our little good idea seemed not so good.
Roll out of bed, hop in the dinghy to get the dog to shore so he can do his doodie (think you, please tip your waitress), Jan got the coffee ready and she brought the anchor up and we were on the way. Our anchorage was totally protected last night. There was no wind and our boat bobbed randomly around the anchor. We thought we had outsmarted ourself, but as soon as we rounded the norther point, we had a 10 knot wind that was just far enough off our port bow (45 degrees) that we could get our genoa up and it filled and provided an extra half knot of push. Small waves. We have Andy on pointing at 263 degrees for a 35 mile leg and crossing our fingers that the wind doesn’t change. I probably cursed us by typing that.
(Digression part deux. In case I haven’t made this clear in the past, our autopilot is named Andy. As in Andy the Autopilot. And Andy has a personality, just as Serenity, our boat, has a personality. Andy is good at his job. Put him on a heading and he will keep us going the right way so we can focus on other, more important things. Like coffee. Bathroom. Snacks. Update to blog. Lunch. Picking nose. Whatever. But Andy has a proclivity [word of the day] to turn into any and all aids to navigation. Those red and green markers that can dot the water to help mariners get through a channel. For some reason, and we haven’t figured it out, if there is a aid to navigation anyplace wishing a half mile, Andy will gradually turn to get closer. And closer. Until we hit it. And I’m not the only one that has named our autopilot. Talked to a fine gentlemen who was single handing his boat and named his Otto (or Auto?). Digression part deux off).
We are running across the bay today totally Beverly Hillbilly style. With the rain happening every.single.day, we have to get our clothes dried out when we have the chance, and on a sunny day, our lifelines sprout clothes and towels like a garden sprouts shoots in the spring. We may (or may not) take them down before we get to the marina.
We crossed into the waters of the good old US of A at about 1220 in the afternoon. We took down the Canadian courtesy flag and put up the yellow ‘quarantine’ flag which stays up until we clear customs at Drummond Island.
We puttered into the marina, docked and customs came to our boat to check us in. Very painless and quick process. Then we huddled and came up with our game plan for the remainder of the afternoon. Basically AJ and I would clean the outside of the boat (and shower) and Jan would clean the inside of the boat, do laundry and shower. We had a little excitement during the cleaning (see tool of the day part 1), but by 5:30 we were done and ready for some dinner (Taco Tuesday) and some Agents of SHIELD.
Tool of the day: I was working on this post as we were motoring/motor-sailing over from Sanford Island to Drummond Island. Realize this was a huge risk with our boat FLYING along at 5mph in a flat, huge, open body of water. On which I saw exactly five boats. Over eight hours. On the trip the tool of the day was determined. But once we got to the dock, I had to adjust based on events at the marina. So Part 1 is the tool of the day, and Part 2 was the tool of the day as we were making our way across. Apologize to any issues or emotional distress this may (or may not) cause the (spoiler alert) fly swatter.
Tool of the day (Part 1): Life lines. We replaced the lifelines on our boats before we left on our trip and did some work rebidding some of the stanchions that were a bit loose. AJ decided today to execute an unannounced test of the lifelines. While were were cleaning the boat, AJ took a step backwards where there was no backwards step. And fell straight down and back. Luckily he was caught by the lifelines and prevented from falling backwards onto his head on the dock. Winner.
Tool of the day (Part 2): We mark off points on the map to which we can escape if weather is bad or something unexpected happens. Today it was the Grant Islands. About halfway to our destination and the last feature before getting to the north shore of Drummond Island. Three of them, west, middle and east. Reviews on Active Captain say that they are never very busy and rather isolated. What they don’t say is that the damn things are infested with flies. And that any boat that passes within a half mile of the island should expect to be boarded by a couple hundred of the little bastard. Which leads to the tool of the day. Naturally the fly swatter. Jan, armed with her weapon, and Lucky, armed with his teeth, took to systematically eradicating the population off of our boat. It was gruesome. Like zombie movie gruesome3. Fortunately AJ was still asleep (at 10am for God sake. He gets that from his mother), so he didn’t have to witness the bloodbath.
1: Got a great reader tip today on how to keep mosquitoes from bothering you. Harley wrote that he had heard that covering ones self in deer poop would keep the mosquitos away. I remember from when I was stationed at Ft. Polk that eating match stick heads was rumored to do the same thing. So I did. Mosquitoes didn’t bother me. Neither did anyone else since my pores were sweating sulfur, or put another way, I smelled like a walking fart. While deer poo is a great idea, think we will stick to the deep woods off.
2: I looked over what I wrote yesterday and barely 16 hours ago, it was 2-3 hours of marginal conditions. Not even bad. Today it is three hours of ‘sucked pretty hard.’ By the time a year will have gone by it will become three days of fighting through a hurricane. Jan up on the mast holding together the torn halves of our shell. I’m strapped to the wheel having been exhausted from the fight against mother nature. And AJ will tell his kids about how when he was young, the engines and rudders on our boat gave out in a horrific storm and he had to throw himself in the water and use his body to steer in the direction that we needed to go.
3: RIP George Romero.