It’s a Small World

The weather forecast looked very unpromising. Light winds that spun the compass, then dying out completely at midday. Heath really wanted to have “an old fashioned sail home” but it wasn’t looking hopeful. After consulting all our apps about 200 times he finally decided our best bet was to hoist anchor at 4:00 and head out.

It was still black out when Heath and Seth rolled out of bed and got under way. Meanwhile Zach and I lolled under our covers and snoozed. We couldn’t hear the engine so that was good news for the plan! Alas, when we finally woke up and looked out the hatch what should we see but a disgruntled crew and the Rock of Ages Light still barely astern. In spite of their best efforts we were dead in the water. The wind flickered around the sails in a fickle fashion and you simply didn’t have any steerage. Heath had already conceded defeat to his plan but wasn’t quite ready to start the engine himself. We chased the weary sailors down below to sleep and Zach and I took the helm. After proving to ourselves that the current configuration really couldn’t work we lowered the engine and got underway. The term for this is motor sailing and any modern sailor is very acquainted with it. It ups your apparent wind just enough to fill the sails and give you steerage. The sails give you an extra knot or two of speed plus keep the boat steady and you’re good to go in fairly light winds. Another factor making us willing to give up and move was the bank of fog we could see slowly creeping over the water behind us. Knowing we were crossing the two big shipping channels running to Duluth we really didn’t want to get stuck in a pea soup situation. It wasn’t long before Rock of Ages started looking a little bit smaller and we could actually stay our course.

Our Marine traffic app promised us at least 3 big ships but it was several hours before the bridge of the first one appeared on the horizon. It was a bulk carrier running a little over 12kn. We kept taking bearings off it with our handheld compass to determine if we were on a collision course. It’s a bit different on water than land. You start checking those things out when you’re still miles apart because ships have no brakes and they can’t just turn. Playing chicken with a freighter is just plain a stupid idea. We passed a couple miles to their stern, but were close enough to see it pretty good. We also found out that a fitbit totally messes up a compass so if you are wearing one forget taking bearings.

The seas were calm enough I could go below and heat chili on our little stove for lunch. Although the sun was brilliant enough to seriously fry our noses, it still was nippy on the water. Steaming chili over Frito’s really hit the spot and we munched as we watched the next two ships come into sight. They were farther away but still awesome. A seaplane kept flying over and a fishing vessel passed within hailing distance.

We docked without incident and were welcomed back by an ancient Finnish gentleman who was fishing on the dock. He proceeded to tell us wild tales of leaving Finland on a sailboat right after WWII with his family and a captain. They hit a massive storm, couldn’t keep up with the pumping in spite of lashing Mom to the mast to take her turn, inadvertently got behind an island to huddle out the storm and were subsequently detained by the Swedish Coast Guard. They hadn’t realized they had entered foreign waters and it resulted in them spending a year in Sweden. They always say you need to be really flexible while sailing, but that seemed to take it to a new level! Old Sea Dogs are some of the most fascinating people to visit with.

All trip long we were plagued with the question, how do we KNOW that our life vests would self inflate if we hit the water? They have these CO2 cartridges that we all diligently attached but…. Finally Zach vowed that at the dock he would jump in and test it. Never mind that the re-arming kit was over $20. We had nearly completed our dismasting and stowing when he announced that the show was about to begin. We all trouped down to the dock and watched as stripped to his skivvies with the narrow life vest over his chest he leapt into the water. It wasn’t instantaneous. In fact he had just bubbled to the surface before a series of mini explosions occurred and ploop, PLOOP he was high and dry! It was hilarious and if you ever have a chance to try it I’d say go for it. He said it definitely gave him the feeling that he had been rescued from near death and couldn’t quit shaking his head over his alleged close call.

And then it was over. We all relished the massive Port-a-John on shore, shed all our layers of outerwear and felt blessed that we had had such perfect weather. The trees were just thinking about turning color and the peninsula was beautiful. And then we wonder, are we the luckiest people in the world?

Oh, and the boat is for sale. Let me know if you’re interested!