[Public-List] Oops, we did it again...

[Gordon Laco]

Well,

 

Friday afternoon the eagles were gathering at my house here in Midland.  My old friend and roommate from University days came up from St Catharines, and my newer friend and ex-subordinate from the RCN came up from Toronto.  Together the three of us were destined to be SURPRISE’s ship’s company for what I call ‘The Other Misery Trip’.

 

You’ll recall we did ‘The Real Misery Trip’ on weekdays some two weeks or so ago... last weekend I did my last trip up the coast with my wife in balmy conditions... this weekend was the last, last, and it was horrible.

 

Friday was nice, and both old and newer friends were keen to go.   Neither was phased at all to discover that I had done absolutely nothing to prepare for the expedition; I have to say this miffed me a little, because it indicated that assumed that I’d done nothing was not a surprise.  For my part, I feel I had a good excuse, having been engaged in a new and very exciting project I’d had no inkling I was being considered for.  I learned it was a possibility on Thursday, which of course drove all other thinking from my mind until Friday afternoon when it was confirmed.  But more of that later.

 

We sat about yarning in the comfort of my house Friday night, literally squandering the pleasant weather outside.   Saturday morning, we awoke to driving rain and wind that was tossing the trees.  Fearing mutiny (oh let’s just stay here...) I hustled the men out to a local breakfast place rather than let them develop sedentary thoughts while I made them breakfast in the house.  

 

We did a quick shopping trip at the local supermarket, picked up ice over at the service station, and in no time, we were aboard SURPRISE with lines cast off... too late to go back now.

 

My old friend had been on several Misery Trips before... but my navy friend had not... he had not even sailed before.   I had lined him up to crew aboard a Shark that was going to sail with us, but the Shark’s skipper managed to work up a cold that kept him home from work, provoking his wife to say ‘if you can’t go to work, how are you going sailing with Gord?’  Very Very clever.  He set up a circumstance where someone told him he couldn’t go, rather than just backing out himself.  Hmmm

 

So, my navy friend was at loose ends.  Rather than dump him, as his skipper had done, we brought him aboard SURPRISE.  We figured the animal body heat might be useful, and besides, he’d brought some beer.

 

So, there we were motoring out... on the way I pointed out a Shark class yacht saying ‘hey, that’s what you would have been in’.   He was horrified.  I affected mock surprise, saying ‘what’s the matter, you being in a Shark (low freeboard, narrow, tiny cabin) is nothing I’d worry about’.   He knows me from serving under me in the Navy, so he responded ‘ya, nothing you’d worry about, because you’d still be in THIS boat!’

 

We motored past Asylum Point, now called ‘Way Point’ although the province’s mental health hospital with maximum security wing is still situated and some beaurocrat decided that ‘Way Point’ had a more positive ring to it, hence the renaming.  The land had been appropriated by the Crown after the War of 1812 and for most of the 19th century had plans to build a citadel there along the lines of the majestic defensive works at Halifax and Quebec.  The 1812 conflict, who’s stated aim by the USA was ‘to take Canada and complete the work of the Revolution’ was a near run thing with result of holding off the hordes from the south, so preparations for the next time were on people’s minds for a long time.   After Canada’s Confederation in 1867, Crown property reverted to the new independent federal Canadian government.  The citadel was never built, but the land lay there... so first a boy’s reformatory and then an imposing mental hospital were built on the site.  And yes, I did point out during the years I worked at the site, that so many of Canada’s historic sites were mental hospitals at some point in their histories... coincidence?  Highly appropriate?  Hmmm?

 

We motored out past Whiskey island bound for Chimney Bay on Beusoliel Island... the site being chosen because it sports a covered picnic shelter and woodstove.

 

We could have gone the direct south about route, but since this was my new crewman’s first Misery Trip, I didn’t want to short change him.  we went north about through the Minnicog Channel basically retracing the last two trips for most of the way.  

 

Sails were spread once we could lay the course and away we bounded.  Wind, waves and driving rain opposed our jogging and slamming progress on a close reach.  In short order my new crew broke down and began complaining of being wet and cold.  Naturally I regarded his decent with quiet but thorough satisfaction.  His expressions of suffering made it much easier for me to bear my own considerable discomfort.  I suspect my experienced crew felt the same way, although we did express condolences sincere sounding enough to make the new man think we felt badly for him.

 

As we approached the narrow crooked channel at Minnicognashene, we both filled him with detailed descriptions of the perils of short tacking up with so many visible and invisible fang like rocks all around.  I pointed out monotonously that shipwreck this late in the season might result in being marooned for considerable periods of time before rescue was possible.

 

Imagine my disgust when I found that SURPRISE, damnably close winded with her high clewed blade jib, could lay the channel on port tack... no wiggling, no close shaves, no sweating in of sheets in response to my urgent shouting.  We glided peacefully up to the turn to the west, shot over to Hotchkiss Rocks, and away south again with the wind at our backs toward Big Dog Channel. 

 

Mind you it was still cold, and it was still raining hard, so all was not lost.  

 

We doused sail and motored through Royal Channel past the Delawana Inn at Honey Harbour, then turned west for the blasted entrance to Big Dog.  Blasted because it was dynamited at some time in the past, creating a deep-water entrance about 60’ wide and 10’ deep.  Things narrowed up satisfactorily though, which allowed me to start filling my new crew with renewed tales of the horrors of rocking the boat off sand banks, crewmen being forced overboard to carry and swim anchors out, etc etc.    Yes we had a dinghy, but I didn’t bother explaining that should we touch, we could carry tackle out in that...

 

In due course we exited Big Dog, and veered north for Chimney Bay, where we saw three boats had already arrived.  We anchored securely while another two yachts joined us, making a total of six participants in The Other Misery Cruise.

 

Ashore, fortifications for the night were well under way.  Shipping wrapping plastic had been brought and the otherwise open sides of the picnic shelter were wrapped to be nearly wind proof.  Inside each boat contributed to the pile of split firewood, and a roaring fire was already in the iron stove in the centre of the space.  Food, drink and people flooded in and we had a great ho-down and feast.  

 

Finally people started dribbling back to their boats, and I gathered up my crew and the three of us rowed ourselves back out to SURPRISE.  Once aboard, we got her woodstove going and had an hour of rum sampling and storytelling session in the toasty warm cabin before turning in.

 

Morning came.  I got the woodstove going, started the coffee, and once the guys were awake we made a gonzo breakfast of sausage, bacon, eggs and cheeses.  We saw one of the other yachts maneuvering to join our friend’s sailing yacht which was already rafted up to a large trawler.  It turned out that the yachts did not have a working stove between them, so rescue in the form of the ability to cook breakfast had been summoned.  

 

After visits ashore for ablutions in the parks outhouse (‘Gord you don’t want what I’ve got to offer in your holding tank...’)  We recovered the anchor, clean but for one glob of good viscous clay, and started motoring home in a glassy calm in company with the flotilla.   Nobody minded the calm due to the delicate condition of several of the boatloads of participants.

 

We went the direct south-about route home, and as happens at the end of voyages, the ship’s company packed quickly and all went their separate ways. 

 

Great trip, so long Sailing Season of 2017.  Can’t wait for spring...

 

Gord Laco

#426 Surprise