Thursday, August 1, 2024

Part of the story...

Lots of good news so far today. The best news is the Big Chute is now a full day behind us. Good news is that First Light is riding to her anchor in Georgian Bay. More good news is that the Dink is in the water and the Yamaha, after sitting unused and unattended since Delaware City, started up with little ado. And we might have figured out the magic dance it takes for Deb to get it started. Pull it through easy three or four times just to let it know that it is time to wake up. Then pull kind of hard. Let the putt-putting begin. On our little test run I even opened the throttle all the way and off we went with a purpose to nowhere in particular. I'm still not a big fan of dinking but it is a small price to pay to be able to anchor and still have a way to get to shore.

First light as seen from the cockpit of First Light

Though it is good news that we are here, this first foray into Georgian Bay proper has been a little trying for me. In my aviation life (as long as everything was working) it was almost impossible to not know exactly where you were, exactly where it was safe to be at that moment, and exactly the route to the next safe place to be. We did that in three dimensions plus speed, often without being able to see anything outside the windshield, and usually moving at something near 500 mph. I realize there isn't much to bump into 8 miles above Mother Earth. But we always knew exactly what was under and around us.

That hasn't been the case when it comes to routes on the bay. The “preferred routes” on the electronic charts often pass over what is marked as rather shallow water when deeper water is shown just a hundred feet or so to port or starboard. Why are they taking me over the shallow stuff? Why can't I cut the corner when the chart claims that is where the deeper water lay? If I can't trust the charts, why have them on board? I am barely moving at walking speed, but if the visibility was low we wouldn't be moving at all. Unaided, First Light can only move across the surface of the water. If she is above the water something is carrying her. And if she is below? Then a good bet is she is not moving at all. Given just two dimensions of possible heading and none of height, how can we not know what is under us? Add to all of this is that there are paper charts that have information on them that the electronic charts don't have. Paper Charts?! What happened to the last 25 years of technology?

And for anyone who thinks that paper charts are necessary, I have a bit of news for you. If you have been in an airliner or a corporate jet anytime in the last 15 years or so, I promise you there was not a paper chart anywhere in the cockpit. The last 3 jets I flew (Citation 550, CRJ700, and EMB550/650) had all navigation data downloaded into the aircraft computers and updated over the internet—all instrument approach plates, all high and low altitude routes and waypoints, and all airport taxi plates. iPads were the usual back up, often mounted off to the side that also had all of the necessary aircraft manuals at hand. The modern world runs on data, not wood pulp.

The dotted magenta line (the recommended small craft route) goes right over
two rocks marked on the chart and the shallowest part. The dark pink line is
our planned route in Navionics.


I don't know who lays the markers in these parts but they need to get it together. We went into a lock with red markers to starboard. We came out of the lock with red markers to port. Later they switched. And later they switched again. Now one might think that it doesn't really matter. Just pilot between the markers. Which would work except the markers don't always come in pairs. A lone red or green...mmm. Which side is it supposed to be on now? Can I trust the chart to suggest a side? Here is a marker that is both red and green. If I can pass it on either side then why is it there at all? Just for added fun there are times when the marker you are passing is not on the chart you are looking at. Or the marker on the chart is nowhere to be seen out in the Bay. Okay. None of this would be of too much concern except that Georgian bay is somewhat famous for having prop dinging rocks strew about in places unmarked on any chart. That's like saying google maps doesn't know there is a bridge up ahead on a major highway. To be fair, it must be admitted that a lot of those uncharted rocks are sticking up out of the water. If you run into a rock that it sticking up out of the water? Well, that one is on you.

The general opinion of those who live here or have been this way is to trust the markers more than the charts. Which sounds right to me, though dismissing charted information as questionable goes against everything drilled into me over nearly 50 years of instrument flying. 

Another puzzle is that there are preferred routes for little boats and different preferred routes for bigger boats. But you have to dig pretty deep into the electronic chart notes to figure out which is which. We almost made that mistake, but the boat we happened to follow out of the lock swung to port at a place where our preferred course called for a turn to starboard. That spooked me a bit so we slowed way down and found the note that the route we had plotted was not recommended for a boat the size of First Light.  Deb plotted a new route while I turned the boat around.



Still, one has to feel like our first day on Georgian Bay has been a success. We got to the anchorage. We didn't bump into anything. And Big Chute is in our past and now just part of the story.

Opinion. Anyone planning on doing the loop should consider getting the smallest boat they think they can be comfortable living on for many months, with a draft of less than 4 feet and a comfortable pilot house rather than a fly bridge. Outdrives or even outboards should be considered since changing a dinged prop would be much less of an issue. But balance that with remembering that there is some pretty big water that needs crossed as well. And I seriously wish I had enough $$$ for forward looking sonar. Also, though I am not in a hurry, having the option of going fast at times would certainly lessen the stress levels a bit. Don't look at this trip as “fun”. It is a challenge to be approached like you would if planning to climb a mountain or hike the Appalachian Trail. There are going to be days when you wished you were somewhere else. But they will all fade into the past and become just part of a pretty good story. My opinion only (although it's shared by some others we have spoken to).

Yes, our route goes behind this mark, a 180° turn from our position in the photo




2 comments:

Victoria said...

First Light is a joy to look at but imagine her without the flybridge….ahhh pure beauty and close to perfection

s/v Sionna said...

I'm guessing that the "Magenta Line" on your charts is of the same value there as on the Atlantic ICW, ie: None at all. As you know, many, many boats have run hard aground on the ICW while precisely centered on the line!