Thomas Bay

7. 16.11  Thomas Bay

We have received many tips / ideas about places to go.  Way too many for this trip.  The one that intriged us the most was for Thomas Bay.  It is in the Georgian Bay.  So, we purchased charts in Little Current and here we are.  It is by FAR the prettiest place we have seen.  The rock is red-orange and can be seen for miles off  shore.  Like the Benjamin's. the trees have eked out nitches in the rock crevices and seem to hang on by dumb luck and tenacity.  It is also the most rock laden entrance with banks of rocks lying just under the surface everywhere.  Plot your course and stick to it, someone (me) on the bow as a look out just in case. 

From here you can dinghy back (west) to Kilarney for supplies, lunch ect. which we plan to do.  There are 8 boats total here for the evening.  As usual the Captain and Admiral had a "discussion" about where to anchor. The Admiral is always really nervous about this.  The Captain always seems confident.  We have successfully dropped and set our anchor the last 4 times on the first try though.  We are using a CQR, my nemasis in the past.  I have learned to creep back slowly  while dropping anchor, let it settle good and then to dig it in deep, continue reverse throttle till chain is tight then up the rpms to 15 hundred.  When the GPS stays steady at 0.0 knots for 1-2 mins. we both feel confident.  

We took the dinghy out for a look see.  It is so pretty the pictures will never compare.  There are large and small rock outcroppings all over.  You could spends several days here exploring to your hearts content.

We met a Michael canoeing the coast here.  Very impressive.  Beautiful wooden sea kayak / canoe.  He said he is retracing his childhood haunts. 

Thunderstorms  are predicted for tonight.

7.17.11  Thomas Bay

Well.  The Captain made a GREAT call with the anchor, rode, placement etc.  Distant thunder and lightning could be heard around 2:30 am.  Winds picking up.  Buy 3 am we were both up to make sure all was secure.  Jim on deck and me latching down hatches below.  I can see an anchor light  through the hatch and it's not ours.  WAY too close.  I'm up on deck in a heart beat to see Jim facing off with a boat.  Their anchor is dragging and their boat is now between us and another boat, way away from where they have set their anchor earlier the evening before.  I swear you could jump on their boat from ours.  OUr spot light is close at hand just incase.  They grab their spot light too and start shining everything, trying to get a sense of where their boat has drifted to. Another boat to our port side breaks free.   Every boat in the harbor appears up by now.  The first boat seems to get their bearings and and begin circling the harbor, which by the way is pretty small.  The second boat repositions with the help from the captain of another boat who was directly in their path,  The storm only lasts 15 or so minutes.   We are in the cockpit and have had a chance to get rain gear on.   I look at Jim and say, "thank you!"  I'm really glad he is sooo cautious and makes sure everything is working properly.   We continue looking from one boat to another.... back and forth, back and forth, still pretty tense.  We keep watch for about an hour. The wind has quit, the rain subsided,  All seems so peaceful.  We go below after seeing they appear to be set and try to get some sleep.

Update: We just heard about the Chicago to Mac Race casualties.... Sooooo sorry, our deepest condolences to the family and friends.

JIm and I are reminded or our first experience with setting our anchor and it dragging during a storm on our first boat.  We where on South Manitou Island in Northern Michigan.  We had gone a shore for a hike via dinghy and returned several hours later.  The wind started picking up and rain spitting down rather lightly.  We enjoyed a peaceful dinner down below.  Jim decided to make a quick call home and upon entering the cockpit notices someone waving and yelling over to us.  Isn't that nice, they must want to introduce themselves... but, weren't they the ones who where anchored the other side of us earlier?... Oh  S%*#.... we are dragging through the harbor like nobodies business!   They were trying to get our attention.    Engine on, anchor up, spot light out because of course it is now getting dark.  Rain has quit spitting and is now all over us like paint on a Jackson Pollock canvas.  We motor to where we thought we would do the least damage if it happened again. We had to reset the anchor 2 times before it held, but by then, who's sure?   We were up on and off all night, I slept in the cockpit.  It rained all night.  At first light, we ditched the plan to hike anymore, wondering what would have happened if we had been ashore and the anchor gave way...  Hauled the anchor, which by the way was buried deep, and headed off for Leland, about 10 miles to safe harbor.  Rain and thunderclouds chasing our wake.  There is a saying about incidence like that and boating,  something like:  it's not  "if"  but when...you drag anchor, take a knock down, hit a rock.  It's bound to happen.  We only hope that only our pride is hurt and not something else  durning those times.  Someone toasted us the other night at the Anchor Inn saying, "may your first rock,  be a small one".  I'll drink to that. 

7.18.11       

The sun is up and it is a beautiful morning.  Several boats are hauling anchor and heading out.  Jim notices a canoe coming up.  Two women who weathered the storm while camping.   They say they lost their tent and are heading to Kilarney.  We wonder how Michael did?   Jim has kippers for breakfast.  We pack a backpack and head off for Kilarney ourselves by dinghy.  It is absolutely beautiful along the shore.  The dinghy ride is quite fun and gives some relief to the heat.  It is really humid.  Almost too hot here for me, I am even considering a swim.  If you know me, you know that is right up there with the possibility of winning the lottery, but it could happen.  Killarney is a small village.  The road to get here was only finished in in the early 60's. Pretty sleepy but lovely.  The boats, dare I say small ships, here are quite big for such an out of the way place.  We had an amazingly good fish lunch at "the red bus".  A MUST stop for tourists as well as locals.  Mister Perch,  as it is officially named literally runs out of an old red school bus. The fish are caught daily and served fresh along with real fries.  Hit the spot.  We walked all 3 blocks of town, it may have been 2 but we walked slow.  Ran into Michael who survived the storm as well. Took in the museum, lots of old stuff.  Had some ice cream and headed for home.  The wayward boat from last night is circling the harbor again, trying to find a better anchoring spot I guess. Their anchor is down and rain is starting again.  Lots of thunder and lightning, a good 45 minute summer rain.  We take a hike on shore.  Climb the big stone hill.  On our return to the boat we introduce our selves to our wayward neighbors from last night.  Before anyone can introduce themselves, they say, "hey, we are really sorry about last night..."   We acknowledge their apology and assure them, we have all had that happen... sooner or later.  Introductions are made.  They are students from the east side of Michigan where they take sailing lessons and are on their summer outing, kind of like a final exam for sailing class.  We all wish for a quiet, windless night, safe travels and say our goodbyes.    

Michael paddling out of Killarney

7.19.11

So sad, today we have to start heading back west since we have reached what we feel is the farthest east we can go on this trip without being drawn south into retirement.