Charlevoix, MI to Beaver Island, MI to Mackinac Island, MI

We awoke to another foggy and cold morning in Michigan. It seems as if we just can’t catch a break with the weather. The forecast keeps calling for a rise in pressure to bring things back to normal. But, as each day passes, we continue to see more of the same. Oh well.

With the weather and visibility questionable, we had debated with destinations for most of the morning. Ideally we would go to Beaver Island to anchor. But, if the fog was bad on the lake, we would have the option to divert to Petoskey or Harbor Springs hugging the shore line. As we left the channel we followed another boat from Door County (Sturgeon Bay to be precise). The boat was Door 1 and the owner actually kept it at CenterPoint Yacht Service where I worked during the month of May. I passed by the boat every morning.

Once on the lake, the fog was pretty thick. However, instead of diverting, we decided to slug it out and head for Beaver Island; roughly a 36 mile sail. As soon as we got into deeper water from the channel there seemed to be enough wind to sail. Things were looking up! Unfortunately, it was short lived. The wind died almost as fast as it had sprung up. It was going to be another day of motoring.

Under motor, we arrived to Beaver Island in roughly 4.5 hours (around 3pm EST). The island was pretty desolate and run down looking. Which makes sense as there is only a single ferry that runs there once a day. And that’s only when the weather is favorable; maybe 6-8 months out of the year. The rest of the time the 700 or so residents have to fend for themselves. Though I suppose that they can snow mobile or dogsled to the mainland if they were so inclined once the lake froze over. There is electricity on the island, a post office, a few paved roads, and established homes. Oh, and an Irish bar that serves a lot of whiskey. Have to have one of those!

After anchoring, I set to the task of scrubbing the deck and the cockpit in an attempt to wash out all of the insect corpses that had accumulated over the past few hours. Not a pretty sight! With that done, we set to the task of settling in and getting dinner prepared. Just as I was finishing up cooking (approximately 6pm EST), my dad says to me, “Hey, you want to pick up the hook and mix it up with these single-handed Mack boys tonight?” And of course I said, “Absolutely!” My dad said, “You sure? It means that we will have to sail all night, through the dark, through a narrow reef passage, into a busy shipping lane, and then dock in the darkness at an unknown marina.” He had me at sailing all night, everything else was just gravy. I was in!

So, we ate dinner, washed up the dishes quickly, and prepped the boat for departure for the second time that day. We had been tracking the bulk of the single-handed Chicago to Mackinac race boats since they left on Saturday morning. Only one boat had finished at this time. One! The rest of the front runners were just about even with where we were; only a little further east. Our mission was to get into the middle of that pack and sail in with them under the Mackinac Bridge and into the marina on Mackinac Island sometime the next morning. An ambitious plan for two amateurs 🙂

We had great wind as soon as we left the protection of Beaver Island. And, for the most part, partly sunny skies and relatively warm air. It was incredibly exciting! For about 2 hours, we had a perfect sail. Close-hauled with about 10-12 knots of wind propelling us along at 5-6 knots comfortably. I would have liked to have pushed the boat a little harder, but my dad often reminds me to take it easy on the equipment 🙂

At the start of quest to join the pack, we had agreed to sail in 2 hour shifts so that one of us could manage the boat while the other got some rest. Well, that plan unraveled rather quickly as soon as the sun faded and the weather began to turn sour.

Upon approaching the Grays Reef lighthouse, we furled in the sails and started up the motor. The channel between the reef is relatively narrow and we did not feel like tacking back and forth in a narrow passage in order to get through. It would have taken us a few hours to do so. And it did for most of the solo Mack race boats. Poor souls! Additionally, it was getting dark. Fast. And, we wanted to get through there as quickly as possible; for it also serves as the only passage for all freighter traffic coming east and west through the Straights of Mackinac.

As soon as we got through the reef, we got a slight glimpse of the Mackinac Bridge in the distance. It was a ways off, but it was our beacon of hope. With the sun gone, it got cold. With the cold, gone were our ambitions of sailing under the bridge with the race boats. We wanted to get there, dock, and get some sleep. So, we kept on motoring.

With the bridge still in the distance and darkness upon us, it began to rain. So, take very little visibility to begin with and kick it up a few notches with the rain/wind. We didn’t get much hard rain, but what we did get, fell consistently and the entire time from a little east of the reef until we reached the dock on Mackinac Island. It made for a miserable and stressful night for my dad. We couldn’t see, it was cold, and there were huge-poorly lit freighters looming in shadows with a smattering of equally ill-lit sailboats sprinkled in the mix. I, on the other hand, was having a blast! The whole combination of danger, night sailing, potential obstacles to overcome, everything. It was exhilarating!

Passing under the Mackinac Bridge was also a surreal experience. There was not much visibility, even with it lit up on the roadway. To compound things, we had the darkness/weather to contend with, a sailboat tacking in front of us to keep an eye on, and a very large freighter right on our tail coming under the bridge in the same shipping lane as we were in. Prior to passing under the bridge, we had the somewhat bright lights of St. Ignes to lend a little light to our scene. But, once under the bridge, we lost the lights and it was pitch black. We we steaming along at 8 knots, while this big ship kept creeping up on our stern making 20+ knots. We just-just made it under the bridge and swung off out of the shipping lanes as he came under the bridge. Not really a close call, but close enough for us! As we passed under, my dad said that this would be his first and his last time under this bridge at night.

We made it to the docks at around 1:30am EST. Our arrival was complete with a little yelling (I’m laughing and smiling a big smile as I’m writing this) as my dad struggled to find the button for the bow thruster in the dark. I was initially giving calm directions on which way to place the bow but soon realize that we’re still getting pushed the opposite way given the current/wind. As our anchor roller was headed dead into a post on the dock, I’m gave a little more firm direction to my dad stating( in an increasingly frantic tone) that we need to move the bow to starboard. As I watched on helplessly from mid-ship after fending off a wooden pillar, we twanged our smaller anchor against a post attached to the fixed docks. No harm done, just a little excitement that caught the attention of a few drunk single-handed sailors/racers on the dock. Who, by the way, did not offer to help. As my dad said later, “They were two sheets to the wind anyways. Probably would have fallen in, hit their head, and drown if they tried to help.” Nevertheless, we got her tied up eventually and decided to celebrate our arrival with a beer before hitting the sack to get some much needed rest; as we had been sailing for about 15 hours total that day. No where near what some of these single-handed Mack racers went through with almost 5 straight days of sailing without stopping. But for us, it was a long day!

Tomorrow we explore Mackinac Island 🙂