Decisions, Decisions, Decisions...

We bought a second night on the dock so we could gather up all the stores we needed, including ice cream and rum. We got some veggies, fruit, and other healthy stuff as well. The decision was when to leave given the questionable weather forecasts we had been watching since tying off. Rain was mentioned as (for the second time on this trip) the remnants of a Florida hurricane looks to be doing some far inland traveling. But the real question was the possibility of 25 knot winds. There are big open spaces of water on the Georgian Bay. That much wind could make for some very uncomfortable trawler travel. The forecast has the rain starting this afternoon, with the winds hanging around until Monday. So we needed to be in a pretty well protected anchorage before this afternoon or commit to another four nights on the dock. It is a pretty nice marina (though the showers could use a little attention). There are Looper boats all around, several of which we have crossed wakes with before. One tied to literally two feet off First Light's starboard side when they pulled in. (The finger docks in this marina are as skinny as I have ever seen.) They let us know that they were planning on staying put for the weekend's wind.

The tentative decision was to head out this morning and give the wallet a break. But the final decision wouldn't happen until a last morning weather check. Even this far inland and playing with just the carcass of a hurricane, being as well informed as possible is the only smart way to go.

We woke up early. If anything, the weather forecasts were a bit more pessimistic. No one else was up and prepping to move. We talked about it a bit more, each aware that either one of us could pull the plug on leaving with no argument from the other.

At 0700 Deb pulled in the bow lines. I let the wind drift us back out of the slip, bumped the trannies, tweaked a little rpm here and there, and crept out into Perry Sound. An hour or so later we were in the open waters of Georgian Bay. So open are the waters that we passed a full sized cruise ship going the other way. The wind picked up enough off the starboard stern quarter as to make for a little roll. It was't a bad ride but it was just enough to keep the autopilot working harder than I like, so I relieved it of it helming duties. A while later, I turned turned the bow into the Shawanaga Inlet. And no, I have not the slightest clue how pronounce that name.

Three hours and forty five minutes after dropping the dock lines, we coasted as deep as we could into the NW corner of Hopewell Bay, a bay on the east side of Shawanaga Island. We stopped with fifteen feet of water under the keel and the shallows about 300 feet away. There we splashed the hook, dug it in as hard as we could, put a bit more than 100' feet of chain into the water, and added the snubber. The plan is to be well protected from the W and WNW winds as possible. There is virtually zero fetch in the direction of the forecast winds. It is a pretty place, just like the rest of Georgian Bay that we have seen. It is really quiet and, the guess is, come night fall it will be really, really, dark. 

At the moment, there are only three other boats in the anchorage with us. All sailboats. Though this is one of those “popular weekender” hangouts, my guess is the winds will keep most of the Georgian Bay natives at their home docks this weekend.

While we were on the dock, we watched a float plane giving rides take off over the boat several times. I remember wondering how long was the flight. We are 20NM as the float plane flies from the dock we were on. The plane keeps flying past us, still out over the Georgian Bay heading more or less NW, then flying past us heading back to base. Occasionally he goes by pretty low. We hear it more than see it so some pretty low sight seeing must come with the ticket. It feels a bit odd knowing I used do things like that. It seems a long time ago now.

So the next few days will be dedicated to doing...whatever we feel like doing at the moment depending on how hard the wind is blowing. As to when and where we will be heading next? Decisions, decisions, decisions.