Uncle!

This morning's weather check suggested that today, tonight, and tomorrow would be an ugly ride on the wall. The wind is forecast to blow out of the west at 15 to 25, pushing the surge directly up the channel. With the broken cleat in mind, that was enough to convince the crews of the three boats on the wall that staying on the wall might not be the best idea. All three took advantage of a lull in the wind this morning, bailing out and are now in adjacent slips in the marina a few hundred yards up the river. It is amazing how different the ride can be between two places that close together. But we are now tucked around a corner, facing nearly ninety degrees off of where we were, tied up between pilings, and with a line of boats between us and any surge that makes it this far.

The three crews plus the lifetime mariner who bailed off the wall a couple of days ago (and had suggested we do the same) helped get the boats safely away from the concrete and in the slips. It was a painless exercise orchestrated by a life long expert sailor. I am a bit embarrassed that I let my wallet override his opinion a couple of days ago. He is way too much the professional to have rubbed it in, but I think I caught a bit of a wry smile when he heard of our plans this morning and offered his help. He also invited us aboard and out of the cold wind while we waited for the gaggle of sailboats to head out for the second day of their planned race. For them, 20 knots worth of wind is magic, five foot waves are kind of fun.

It would be a pretty good bet that I am one of the happiest boat drivers on the planet right now. Two days with little sleep and food can put a damper on one's opinion of life. Throw in a broken boat and (yet another) near miss on this trip? I'm nothing but smiles right now. The boat is doing its normal slow nodding and swinging when in a slip. It is not trying to climb over or bounce off anything with fenders and lines moaning and grinding in protest.

As the saying goes, hindsight is always 20/20. I'm not sure that staying on the wall trying to save some hard earned $$ was a bad idea on its face. We just didn't know what we didn't know. At least we should be pretty secure until we can start making some more miles.

The next time the forecasts have the wind at less than 20 knots is Tuesday. In the meantime we will catch up on sleep and food, relax for the first time in days, maybe change the wash down pump with a new one Deb found not too far away in a West Marine, and see what it will take to replace the broken cleat. That is "relaxing" in boat speak. 

A long couple of days

It looks like it is going to be a long couple of days. The wall we are tied to is every bit as uncomfortable as was claimed. It is really kind of weird. Looking out across the water it does't look like much is going on, just small ripples and wavelets with no noticeable rollers and no whitecaps. But the boat is pitching and rolling, squishing fenders and tugging its lines until they stretch, then recoiling back against the wall. It seems that the river is subjected to lake-generated surging that flows up the river, bouncing off the breakwaters, walls, and shoreline. The surging water is far more powerful than the wind. Where 25 knots of wind isn't really that big of a challenge, surging water is an entirely different animal. We are constantly readjusting lines and fenders (two of which have already been nearly destroyed) to protect the boat, but it is an uphill struggle.

I was hoping we would get through this without damaging the boat. And we might have if I hadn't asked too much of the starboard side cleat. But it couldn't take the load of both a fore and aft spring line working to hold the boat against the surge. Fortunately, we discovered that it had sheared 3 of the 4 mount bolts just before sunset when we went out to tighten the lines again. We re-ran a fore and aft spring lines off the the bow and stern cleats which are much heftier. If they don't hold, well, that's what insurance companies are for. To add to the fun, the constant motion of the boat added to the concern that something else will fail, making getting any kind of rest near impossible. We are both feeling the effects, which is why there are only two pictures with this post. I'm not sure how long I can go without sleep. I have had about 6 hours worth in the last 36. It has been a long time since I've had to work those kinds of shifts.

Would it have been worth the half a boat buck to be at a dock? It sure looks that way. The docks are far better protected from the surge, something we simply didn't know enough about to make the right call to get off this wall. But hindsight is always 20/20 and it doesn't matter now. We either get out of here without breaking anything else, in which case this will be just another story of how much fun it is to live on a boat. Or we will not. It which case it will be a different kind of story. We toyed with the idea of getting into a slip this afternoon. But one thing that seems pretty clear is that it would be near impossible to get off the wall in these conditions. Getting into a slip would be just as much of a challenge. Such an attempt would almost insure damaging something else. So there is nothing to do but keep adjusting the lines, resetting the fenders, and wait it out.

Yep, a long couple of days...

Patience

We woke to blue skies and gentle winds which begged the question, should we be moving? It seemed that we could have made some miles yesterday and maybe some more today. Were we being too cautious with our weather decisions? After the morning routines we decided to take the 3 mile round trip walk out to the end of the breakwater to see what we could see.

Bird sculptures on the boardwalk to the lake...

And real birds...

There was a nice breeze blowing but no real wind. Yet the water looked a little lumpy and, at the end of the breakwater, breaking waves were throwing spray up onto the walkway. After watching for a few minutes we could pick out a rolling swell of about two feet on a two second period. Nothing to write home about be it would have been a bumpy ride.

Later in the day a few more boats came in. The crew's report was that it was “pretty lumpy.” So far as we know no one is planning on moving for the next few days at least. The current weather has winds 15-25 for the next two days, 10-20 the next day, and 10-15 on day four. Day five has 5-10 but it is anyone's guess as to how long it will take the lake to settle after nearly 100 hours of those kinds of winds.

Fellow Looper boat Aurora

One of the running debates has been if staying on the wall is a good idea or if moving to a marina was the wise call. In may ways this is the worst wall we have been on. The face wall is uneven with pillars and gaps, making fender placement dicy. It has a lip at the top to catch rub rails and fenders should the boat roll with any kind of enthusiasm, which would likely lead to more than a little damage. There are odd hooks welded in place and some kind of well rusted connections that go no where jutting out to gouge fiberglass and fenders. Word has it that it can get pretty bumpy if the winds blow the rollers between the break waters and into the river, which they are forecasted to do to start, later veering around to a much better heading that should calm the waters at the wall.

There is no water, power, or security. Last night walking back to the boat, I passed within 100 feet or so of what sure looked like a drug deal going down. The cost for the privilege? Thirty dollars a night. It feels like a bit of a rip-off. 

The marina has all of the amenities the wall is missing but at roughly one hundred dollars a night. We are going to be here at least five nights. Half a boat buck here, half a boat buck there, and pretty soon you are talking about a noticeable hit to the old bank account. Three of us elected to stay on the wall. Everyone else headed for one of the several marinas nearby.

The three wall crews spent a good part of the afternoon getting the boats secured. We moved them as far up the wall and as far from the inlet breakwaters as we could.  Then pretty much every fender and fender board aboard was deployed. Lines were doubled up with chafe guards secured. First Light is tied starboard side to with eight lines. The other two boats were similarly secured. The hope is we all went overboard with our preparations.

Do we have any more fenders?

It wasn't all work today. With the boats secured, the three wall crews as well as several more on boats in the marina met for “docktails”. We also watched a big red tug move a dredging barge and pipe load around the bend in the river and into the inlet. They were clearly headed out to the lake, weather apparently no concern. A tiny little RC barge was keeping an eye on the proceedings.

Now we just wait to see how bad it will get.

The structure at the end of the pier. It's shaped like the bow of a ship to break up the waves.

Clouds starting to roll in

Grand Haven Pier Walk

How many mechanics does it take to fix a wash down pump?  Evidently more than two. Our second attempt at fixing the pump failed today, in spite of the best efforts of all involved. Time to cave and order a new one because I think this one has just lived out its best life.

The day improved later on with docktails with Looper friends and a long walk out to the end of the pier to look at a completely flat calm Lake Michigan. She's a fickle one, Lake Michigan. The weather ramps up starting tomorrow, so being here with friends is a good way to spend a few stormy days. In the meantime, here's some photos for you to enjoy this evening.

Just driving the boat

We checked the weather from several different sources both last night and this morning, as I'm sure most of the other dozen or so boats did that we were watching on our traffic app (with whom several of which we keep crossing wakes) . The five we normally check, all agreed that today would be an acceptable day to put in some miles. So we pulled in the lines just as the sun was breaking the horizon and headed out. Turning into the channel that leads to the lake we were fourth in line. Ahead where two trawlers and a sailboat. Behind was another sailboat and trawler. South of us, along the lake, other lines of boats were leaving their overnight stops, moving into the lake, and heading south.

I'm pretty sure we all regretted that decision. (Well, maybe not the sailboats.)

It would be easy to wax melodramatic about today. The weather (as you have likely already guessed) was dramatically worse than forecasted. The expected weather was winds 10 to 15 with seas of 1 to 2 feet on a 2 to 4 second period. Which is pretty close to the limit of the weather forecast that will have us heading out into big water in First Light. 

The discovered weather a couple of hours into the trip was winds well in excess of 15 knots with waves closer to 2 to 4 feet on a 2 second period. How do I know the four feet? With our bow buried in the trough, the crest of the wave was even with the deck seam. That is 5 feet. Climbing up the wave the bow covered the horizon half way back to the pilot house. My guess? Ten to 15 degrees pitch up. When the bow fell off the back of the wave the anchor was covered with spray that reached back to the windshield. The impact echoed throughout the boat. Everything in drawers and boxes crashed about with each landing. Depending on the angle the wave hit the bow, the boat would also lurch and corkscrew one way or the other, having me cranking on the wheel as hard as I could. And that went on, nonstop for nearly eight hours.

First Light bahing through the waves. Photo courtesy of Erin Jaehnig on MV Knot Again

It wasn't that bad to start with of course. Otherwise, we would would have turned around and coasted back to the dock we had just left. But it wasn't as smooth as the weather suggested even when first entering the lake. Which should have had me more concerned. Since the forecast was for the conditions to improve heading south and the ride wasn't that bad (we were still in the fly bridge) we kept going.

The conditions deteriorated rather dramatically and pretty rapidly. We abandoned the upper helm about two hours in. At one point, in what turned out to be the worst of the conditions for the day, we considered bailing out. But the bailout point we were looking at did not appear to be particularly tenable, nor was there much support should we end up stranded for a couple days. We pressed on, looking for the next available bailout point. But the weather settled just enough that the decision to continue on to the original destination didn't seem like complete lunacy. Near the very end, with the entry into Grand River in sight, the waves and wind picked up again. Getting through and between the breakwaters required a turn that put the waves on the beam. It took a pretty good wrestling match with the helm to keep the boat anywhere near the center of the channel. Once inside, things settled down and I could finally relax a little.

The best thing about today is that it is over. We are tied to a town wall in Grand Haven, MI. There are no services here but they still charge an overnight fee. At least it is much less than a dock fee and we don't need any dock support at the moment. 

So far as we know, all the boats out in the lake made it in to somewhere safe. Several are here and those we have talked to all admit that it was not a good day to be boating.

There are a few other good things to take from the day. First Light bashed her way through without a hiccup. The engines never missed a beat. No water made it into the bilge, though the forward berth ports did leak a little. I'm pretty sure all of the spiders that have taken up residence on the outside screens of those ports got washed away. I am a bit surprised the screens are still with us.

Another really good thing is that very good friends of ours, who helped so much last year as we struggled though our medical issues, had bashed their way though the same weather and were safely docked a couple of hundred yards from us. They were waiting for us at the town wall and help secure First Light. We haven't seen them since they left Oriental last year to start their loop. It was hugs, fist bumps, and smiles all around. 

And it was kind of a good thing to learn that, at 69 years old with a pacemaker, a wrist and ankle supported by braces, two once upon a time dislocated shoulders complaining about the stress, and hands cramping from holding onto the wheel, I can still just tough it out and get done what has to be done. Not, mind you, that I ever want to do a repeat performance. Then again, when it was all said and done?

I was just driving the boat. What other choice was there?

(Ed Note: what he didn't mention is that I spent the day stretched out on the sofa and was no help at all the entire day. I don't get pukey when I get seasick, just a bad headache, but still useless. He understated his contribution today for sure.)

Leaving the harbor. The water was calm inside the breakwater.

MV Knot Again

78.9 / 10+34

We pulled in the lines just before 0800 to start a planned travel day of about 6 hours covering 30 miles and ending at an anchorage for the night. A couple of hours in and we decided to continue on to what would have been the destination for tomorrow. Some may wonder why we would do that, 10.5 hours and nearly 80 miles? Simple, for the first time in days the weather didn't suck lemons.

There was a bit of a roll starting out, enough to keep the autopilot in standby mode. But after a couple of hours and with the leftover swells dead on our stern and going nearly our exact same speed? It was just too good of a day to not make more miles if we could. So we did. There was a second reason as well. Today was basically two travel days in one. Tomorrow will be a full day as well. If the weather allows we will put in two more days, squeezing five travel days distance into four. The reason for that is, of course, the weather. There is more lemon sucking stuff inbound that will likely pin us in place, someplace, for a day or two almost for sure and maybe as many as four. We are about half way down the Lake and it is now September. Getting off the lake as soon as we can is the driving force.

I will so miss the blue water. I saw a photo today of a Looper boat on the Illinois River and the

water was muddy brown.

As for today's unexpectedly long day? Truth to tell it was more comfortable on the boat under way than it had been for the last two days pitching and rolling at the dock. There was a downside to two days on a rolling pitching boat and then 10 plus hours underway. We got off First Light to take a little walk only to find that the sidewalk was doing the pitching and the rolling. Stopping by the bathroom (“head” to a sailor) meant leaning against the stall wall to keep from falling in.The boat is sitting perfectly still in this slip so, hopefully, that and a good night's sleep (which have also been in short supply these last couple of days) will convince the inner ear that up is actually up and not sideways. And that was probably more information than you were expecting.

Our walk was prompted by the arrival of The Badger to the port, an antique car carrier that still burns coal—surprising, that, given the environmentally conscious people of Michigan. It's an interesting story that I'll let the historical sign tell for you. Thankfully, we'll be gone in the morning before he blows the 5 departure whistles which are loud enough to shake the boat. Well...that's if the weather decides to cooperate.

The Badger

Fellow Loopers on MV Escapade

The entire day was spent looking at the dunes that are all part of the

Sleeping Bear Dunes National Seashore

Oh the blue water...

About last night...

I was dragged out of sleep but not sure why. A fuzzy glance showed it was 0225. The wind was howling, lines were creaking, waves were breaking over the breakwater...but none of those was the culprit. What was it? Wait, what is that noise? The fuzz cleared a little. It was an alarm of some sort. It didn't sound like any we have on First Light, but it was definitely an alarm. I got up and got dressed. Off of the back of the boat and across the water to the fuel dock was a red flashing light. Deb wasn't thrilled with the idea of me getting off the boat in the middle of the night in those kinds of conditions. For that matter, neither was I. But there was no way I was going to be able to ignore that alarm. We talked about dialing 911 and letting whoever that dragged out of bed take care of it, but that seemed a bit of an over reaction. It was a single beeping noise and a single flashing red light after all.

The wind was enough to make walking down the dock feel a bit precarious. Half way across the dock, I realized that the light was on top of a dock pedestal that was also the source of the alarm. The pedestal held a life ring behind a door. The wind had blown hard enough to undo that over-center latch and push the door open. The open door set off the alarm and red light. I closed and latched the door. The alarm quit beeping and the light went out. The logic escapes me. If a person falls off the dock they can't reach the door to get the life ring to set off the alarm. If someone sees them, opens the door, throws the life ring, and pulls them in, crisis is over and there is no need for an alarm and a flashing red light. Maybe it is a belt and suspenders kind of thing, just letting the world know something is going on in case of...whatever. Anyway, I walked back to the boat and actually fell back asleep amid all the creaking, howling, and waves crashing over the breakwater.

Come daylight, it seemed like the wind was blowing even harder. More waves were topping the breakwater. We doubled up the bow and stern lines and added a spring line. We are in the end finger pier with nothing but the breakwater between us and the wind. The boat wind-O-meter showed a gust of 27 mph / 23.5 knots. 

When we looked out over the water we saw sails. Not sailboat sails. Kite surfing sails. Once upon a time I had a reputation for being a risk-taker, with a long list of things I have done that most (normal) people wouldn't try. And my first thought was these guys were crazy.  But whoever these guys are, they are real pros. One actually sailed into the marina, cutting across the main fairway and jumping (flying?) out over the breakwater. If I was 40 years younger? 

In addition, the water around the beach was filled with surfers. For them and the kite surfers, the weather is perfect. It is not so perfect for us.

I don't know how long it is going to take the lake to settle down. It will depend on just how long the wind blows this hard. Though tomorrow is our scheduled get-out-of-town day for a 7 hour run, the lake may still be stirred up enough to make it a let's-not-go-out-there day. Just have to see.

Options?

Most of this morning my mind chafed at the thought that we should be moving. Calm winds, blue sky, and a look out at the lake showed little to no wave action. Several boats departed though it must be admitted that most of those were considerably larger than First Light. Moreover, all of the Looper boats that are nearer our size, but still slightly bigger, are securely tied to the docks. Still, calm winds and blue sky...

The urge to be underway is the driving force right now. As such, it needs to be carefully considered when making a “It looks like the forecasts are wrong again, let's go!” decision. I want to be going, but is that really an option for today? 

I did mention the weather to Deb in a most offhand way possible just to test the waters (pardon the pun). But she had already checked the weather and reminded me that today wasn't really the problem even with the beam winds. Tonight and tomorrow at anchor are the real concerns. The most recent forecasts have backed off from tonight's winds at 30 to winds at 25. Tomorrow is still 10 to 20.

I can't say anything much about tomorrow's winds. But tonight's winds are making themselves known even though it is barely noon. The flags are standing straight out and would be pointing directly at our beam if we were underway. The tops of the trees are dancing around. Look at the lake and one sees a bunch of white. First Light is tugging at her lines in pretty much every direction and has a nice little roll going.

So, all in all, not staying put was never really an option. I should be cleaning up the boat a little but the wind and chill takes all the fun out of spraying water around. It will be a slow, but safe, day. And that makes it a pretty good day...even if we aren't covering some miles.

Go-no go

At first glance it seemed possible to make some miles today. But a morning look out on the lake showed whitecaps popping up here and there. A little while later the wind picked up a bit higher than the forecast suggested it would and the white caps became the dominant feature past the breakwater. A couple of boats left anyway. We watched. As they cleared the breakwater they rolled pretty hard and threw sheets of water up from the bow. Unfortunately for us, one of them was a 54' trawler tied up across the dock from First Light. It was an excellent wind break. So long as it was there, we sat nearly perfectly still. But they allowed as to the size of their boat was more than a match for the winds and the waves. As they cleared the breakwater, there was no real roll and the bow just shoved the waves aside with little fuss. Another big boat pulled in while Deb and I were out on the beach with a good view. We were hoping that they would park him across from us but, alas, they waved him into a dock deep in the marina. So we are moving around a little. Still, better to be here than out there.

Another reason to stay put was that the forecast for the next couple of days has ramped up the winds to 30 knots. The next stop is an anchorage. Riding to an anchor in a trawler (which rolls far more than Kintala ever did) in 30 knots worth of shifting wind? I don't think that is something I need to experience if I can avoid it. The only downside to staying here is that riding to an anchor is free. But this trip has already turned out to be far more expensive than even our most generous estimates. At this point, a boat buck or two isn't going to make a lot of difference.

There's a really nice beach with super soft sand just steps from the marina.

The view of the marina from the breakwall and First Light in the background

A beautiful Kady Krogen Express 53

One of the fish restaurants in Leland

The historical shanty village along the waterway in Leland. It's still an active commercial fishery

as well as a very highly trafficked tourist destination thanks to the ferry that goes to/from North Manitou Island

This store sells smoked fish and the smoker fumes waft over the marina - yum!

The light changes so fast as the sun sets.