[Public-List] Misery Trip of 2015

[Gordon Laco via Public-List]

So, it¹s over now.

Several weeks ago I received a polite invitation from our friend Larry who
sails the Whitby 42 STARSHINE that SURPRISE would be welcome at what he and
his friends call ŒThe Misery Trip¹ this fall.   This invitation was a
significant thing. 

For many years SURPRISE, as did TOUCH WOOD before her, conducted a late
season sailing trip we began calling ŒThe Misery Trip¹.   The early
expeditions were done in Lake Ontario when we still lived in Toronto.
Unkown to us, another group had begun doing the same thing here on Georgian
Bay, much later, I hasten to point out.    One time we and the other group
bumped into each other up the coast, each on our own ordeal, and somehow MY
name for the trip began being used to refer to both traditions.

Now I¹m adult enough not to feel miffed at this clear appropriation of
intellectual property, but there it was.  Beginning about five years ago
people at our club would ask me Œdid you on the Misery Trip this year?¹ to
which I¹d reply yes and say our date.  People would look confused because
they¹d heard the trip was on another date and many boats went.

The tension each fall was not overt, but it was there.

Well this year I accepted the olive branch, and while our expedition will
still be a solitary one in some years, this year we sailed in company with
the crowd.  It was a lot of fun, fairly miserable, but not the same, I have
to add.

We packed up and set out at 1030 Saturday morning in company with our
friends John and Bill in John¹s lovingly restored 22¹ wooden sloop named
JAGUAR.  John got the boat for free with a tree growing through it¹s bottom,
and in a remarkably short time transformed it to a better than new little
sailing yacht.  Since it has no engine, we ended up towing JAG behind
SURPRISE.  We trudged our way out of Midland Bay at 5.2 knots and headed
north with a very light following wind.  Off Penetanguishene Bay the breeze
strengthened enough that we cast off the tow and began sailing at 3-4 knots.
We eventually reached what locals here call Œthe pins¹ at Minnicognashene
(love those Ojibwa names) and we worked our way inside from outside and
ended up close hauled beating back down around Hotchkiss Rocks toward Frying
Pan Harbour on the northern part of Beausoliel Island.

Frying Pan has a good harbour, and better yet, has a park site where there¹s
a perminant roof over an iron woodstove so while on our and their Misery
Trips it¹s possible to sit round a blaze in some comfort no matter what the
weather.  

After short tacking into the harbour (I think we made nine tacks to gain the
entrance and finally glide up to the wharf) SURPRISE and JAGUAR had arrived
to a cheer from the crews of STARSHINE, SPECTRUM, STARGAZER and a trawler
yacht whose name I don¹t recall.  There fifteen people there ­ including one
woman ­ the later a rarity on these trips.

Everybody had brought some split wood so we carried it up to the shelter and
got the fire going.  I saw an advance party had already wrapped the pillars
of the shelter in plastic complete with hanging curtains at the two
entrances... It seemed that we had the interior warmed up to shirt sleeves
temperature in no time at all.  Food was brought in, pots and frying pans
were placed on the stove and all hands turned to and ate a great feast.

Later we started story telling around the fire ­ tales of the previous
season¹s racing and cruising; I recited Eskimo Nell mostly by heart.  (thank
heavens for iphone google searches)

Around about 11pm the crowd thinned; a smaller group ended up aboard
SURPRISE, where we had our woodstove cheerily going.  That mini-party broke
up about midnight with a toast to the end of the 2015 sailing season.

Aboard SURPRISE we got up at about 730 and scrambled eggs which with coffee
made breakfast.  What a lovely morning ­ bit of mist on the water, several
yearling loons moping about and even saw a family of muskrats busily stowing
winter food under the wharf.  A contingent of about half the participants
decided to go on a hike on the island; I elected to stay home so once they¹d
left I started up SURPRISE¹s stove again and read a HW Tilman book (Ice With
Everything) in solitude.  Wonderful.  I felt very clever and pleased with
myself when it began to rain...

At one point I idylly googled the Southern Georgian Bay weather buoy on line
and saw a red banner on the page followed by a description of 37 knots of
wind and two meter waves.  Hmm, perhaps some misery to come after all.

Finally the hikers came back and we set about getting set to go.   Decisions
had to be made.  With the now hard blowing west wind, the best way back down
the sound would be to motor and sail back north to Minnicog, back out
through The Pins then roar southward past Adams Point, Gin Rocks, round the
Penetang shoal buoy and beat westward into Penetanguishene Bay where we were
to be hauled out this week.    John aboard JAGUAR confessed he wasn¹t
looking forward to the stretch of this course open to the west where there
would be significant wave action, not to mention a hell of a stiff wind.  He
asked me if I¹d tow him down the inside passage to Honey Harbour where we¹d
squirt out of the islands much further south, and he¹d never be exposed to
the open waves.  I agreed, although that would mean we¹d have a wicked beat
directly to windward for about five miles into the teeth of the wind in
order to gain Penetang bay.  One of our friends said Œyou¹re a very generous
friend¹  - I retorted ŒI find him easier to deal with when he owes me
something!¹   We all laughed.

So, we set about dismantling the boats from their moorings at the wharf.
SURPRISE had to back out around the bows of the big trawler but as usual she
was docile and predictable in reverse (now I am boasting, but it¹s true) as
we cast off, backed away and hooked her stern to starboard to avoid some
rocks.  We got her head into the wind and held her still while JAGUAR got
clear and with a shove from many hands glided up astern of us and received
our tow line.  Away we went.

We motored at 5.2kts out of the harbour, then south through the channels
past Deer Island and the rest till we got near Picnic Island.  Picnic Island
is home of a small gas dock and general store which achieved international
notoriety last year when the Sierra Club published a picture of the business
as an example of so called dissasterously low water in the Upper Great
Lakes...  The showed a photo of the back of the building with bare dry
pilings going down onto rock with a caption saying that just a few years ago
people brought boats there to puchase fuel.  The truth is that  the photo
showed the back of the building where there is never water to float a
boat... And the fuel dock was in full operation at it¹s normal place at the
front.    The business formally protested but of course the Sierra Club was
not to be denied...

Anyway.  After a shouted conversation with JAGUAR, we decided to try running
the Big Dog Channel which would bring us out of the islands a little further
north than if we went past Picnic ­ we hoped that would make it easier for
SURPRISE to beat to Penetang and for JAG to beat to Midland.  We hadn¹t gone
through the Dog for years because of the low water (yes, the water was low
but that¹s normal on a 63 year cycle, according to the records...)    We
made it through, chugged out on the sheltered side of Beausoliel Island and
as we got back to Severn Sound, cast off JAG.  The eased sheets and set away
a bit south of west for Midland, we hardened sheets and climbed to windward
somewhat north of west for Penetang.

I shouted to Clint, who was my crew this year Œdoesn¹t seem so bad¹.  He
nodded.   Then we got past the end of Beausoliel and the wind and waves hit.
The first scream of wind in our rig sounded like a horse neighing.  It
really did.  Although we were sailing under just the genny we were laid
over.  I shouted Œno good¹ to Clint and we started the engine.  In came the
genny on it¹s furler after some wild flogging.  And we had a problem.   I
thought I was prudent in setting up my furler spool so that it could make
five more turns furling the sail than were required for normal fair
weather... We ran all the line off the spool and there was still about two
meters of sail out in the air flogging madly.   Because of the weight of
wind, the sail wrapped much more tightly than usual.  I was afraid we were
going to flog the clew out of the sail so we hauled both sheets taut to calm
it.  SURPRISE didn¹t much like the effect of the scrap of sail so far
forward and it was a struggle to hold her head to the wind even with a fair
bit of throttle.  Then I discovered that the amount of helm I needed to keep
her head up meant we were semi-hove to.

We crabbed our way across the sound to the windward shore at Watson¹s Point
where we found a bit of a lee and taking advantage of a lull in the blow let
the genny out (which laid us on our side even with no sheet tension) then
hauled it back in.   This time we got nearly all the sail in.  We turned
SURPRISE away from the wind and let her scud at about 5 knots while I went
forward, untied the sheets, wrapped the rest of the sail by hand then put on
sheet back on to hold the sail on the wrap.

Back into the blow we went, and as we crept around Watson¹s we felt the
weight of the wind again.  I think it was 40 knots.  It was hard to look to
windward from the wind and spray, but with full throttle we were able to get
SURPRISE up to 4.5 knots.   We¹d come upon a series of waves that would slow
us to 2.5, but she¹d always gain speed again until another large series came
up.  SURPRISE never put her nose quite under a wave, but she was certainly
throwing a lot of water into the air.  Clint, who¹d grown up in motorboats,
was amazed at how there was utterly no slamming.... At one point he shouted
to me Œlike a rocking horse!¹.    I replied Œremember the scenes in the
movie Das Boot when they are surfaced and chasing a convoy?¹    I made a
mental note that if SURPRISE was slowed to below 3 knots three times, I¹d
give up and try to get to Midland (also to windward but a little more
shelter) but it never happened.

As we made our way up the bay the fetch got shorter and of course the waves
got smaller...  I was able to back off the throttle when I noticed we were
getting up to 5.6 knots, and we continued at 5.

Once at our winter berth marina (Dutchman¹s Cove in Penetang) we found a
jetty to make fast to and again as usual, SURPRISE was quite docile with her
transmission in reverse and the hard wind holding her head down.  We were
able to remain stationary in the channel while lines and fenders were sorted
out.  Someone ashore shouted to ask if we were aground, so steady was she.

So, that was the end of the trip.  Not so much as a sailing ordeal as a
motoring one.  However I have to say I was extremely pleased with the way
SURPRISE was able to perform under power in such conditions, despite having
the standard factory supplied and much maligned two bladed prop.  I¹m not
changing it.    Good girl.

Gord #426 Surprise