Georgian Bay and North Channel

Sometimes things happen for a reason.  I mentioned previously that the water pump giving up the ghost resulted in us being stranded in Parry Sound, Ontario, but that this same town is the home town of Bobby Orr, a childhood hero of mine.  Well, the folks at Sound Boat Works did a terrific job getting us going again just in time for some epic weather.  Whereas we lost a day at the dock, we made it up over the next couple days running over 170 miles in those two days.  It may not seem like much, but you have to remember that Abreojos runs at around 7-8 knots and we do not run at night, especially in Georgian Bay and North Channel where the bottom is mostly rock.  In the North Channel and Georgian Bay, rocks have a tendency to spring up where you might not expect them to.  The markers are pretty good and accurate, but on occasion, we have come across places where the marks are gone or are clearly not where they are supposed to be on the charts or on the chartplotter.  This fact alone makes running at night a bad idea unless you have very strong local knowledge.

Nevertheless, these places are absolutelty beautiful and, at least to me, show what I imagined Canada would look like.

So, after we left Parry Sound, we "b-lined" it across the rest of Georgian Bay, taking a mild beating in the early afternoon, at least until we got into the mouth of North Channel.  The wind was coming from the wrong direction.  For most of this trip, I have always had the wind following me.  For the last few days, it seems the wind has always been on the beam.  Oh well.  We just tighten things up to make sure they don't fly.  As you all know, if it can fly, it will fly.  These are words to live by on most boats that actually leave the confines of the harbor. 
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Georgian Bay became less and less populated, the further northwest we went.  There are rock islands popping up all over the place, none of which are inhabited by the ubiquitous "cottage."

Once we got across Georgian Bay, we entered North Channel and it got even prettier.  We passed through the town of Little Current and barely made it under the fixed bridge.  They say the water levels are down, but I'm not sure about this.  We have made it under plenty of 18' bridges, but this one clipped our outriggers.  No harm, no foul, but either the water levels are actually up or my outriggers got longer.

We anchored last night at a place called Clapperton Island which gave new meaning to the word quiet.  It was beautiful in there and, other than a single sailboat and a couple houses on the island, there was nobody around.  When we pulled the hook to leave this morning, we managed to capture the interest of a 10' log that got itself jammed in the anchor.  With a little determination and a touch of ingenuity, we managed to get the log out and left. 

These are really strange flies.  Apparently they only live 24 hours.  Up close they are very beautiful, but they cover the boat.

Nine hours later, we arrived at Drummond Island, Michigan.  The first thing we did was check in with Customs.  This was really an easy process and the CBP agent could not have been more pleasant.  I was rather suprised insofar as I had heard horror stories about checking back into our own country.  This put all the rumors to rest, however, as everything went smooth.  We then borrowed a marina car and got some groceries.  Tomorrow we plan to leave again very early and make it through the big locks at Sault St. Marie and into Lake Superior.  I am very much looking forward to this and I'm all but certain I'll have more to write about then.  In the mean time, I am going to sleep.  I am very tired.  Long days full of hard concentration leave one drained at the end of the day.  The problem is, it does not get dark until 11:00 this far north.  Moreover, it's been in the high 80's late into the evening, so it is hard to think about food and eating.  Oh well.

Life is short.  You only get one trip around this one, so it makes sense to do whatever you have to do to enjoy it.

Cheers.