Hancock, Bayfield and Eben
We launched the boat into Portage
Lake, Hancock, which forms part of the Keenaw Canal, across the bottom
of the Keenaw Pennisula. In the picture of Hancock Marina you can see
thae bridge. Note that the railroad no longer goes across, the
result of the copper having played out. Since the pennisula
is/was famous for copper mining, Quincy
Mine, the one sitting on top of the hill, was on our
agenda to tour; we
were excited to see how this mining operation had worked. For some
reason this tour, more than any other mine tour we have taken, helped
us see how tough mining was, especially in those early years around
1850. It was a prosperous time, people came from many different
countries and family members would work together as a unit in the
mines. Often the people next to them in the mine would be from a
different country, so there was little verbal communication. The mining
company worked out a system of communication with bells, which everyone
could understand. When we entered the steam hoist building, we
were handed a hard hat and a heavy
jacket. They said it was 43 degrees in the mine. What they
forgot to mention was the wind
blowing through the mine because they had opened up another part of the
hill which created a strong draft. This breeze made it feel much
colder than the 43 degrees, even though that is pretty darn cold.
They had us sit in an open metal c
ar pulled
by a tractor and not long
after we entered the tunnel it became extremely cold, damp and dark, I
was grateful for the heavy coat they had us wear. There were
lights but they were
spread sparingly throughout the tunnel, I suspect for effect. We
also passed unused classrooms for Michigan Tech mining classes. They no
longer teach mining, and if you want to learn it, go to Colorado.
Our
next adventure
was the Apostle Islands in Wisconsin where we met Rachel, Jack,
Jonathan and Kate, our daughter and her family, for a little vacation
time together on the boat. Boris and I arrived in Bayview
several days before Rachel & Jack, which gave us time to check out
the marinas, the historic little resort town, and tour some of the
Apostle Islands. The launch ramp was in town and certainly
gave Boris and I a few thoughts about launching here: it was fairly
narrow, short, and dropped off quickly plus you couldn’t see the
bottom because the water was dark and murky. After a couple of days at
an RV park we finally bit the bullet and backed her down the
ramp. As we slowly inched
her in the water
and the wheels dropped out of sight a man
appeared and thought he would be helpful and started waving Boris to
back up, with his arms waving in the air, and as I noticed the water
coming in through the cockpit drains I gently pushed the man aside so I
could see Boris in the rearview mirror to tell him to stop backing
up. Standing on the old wooden dock on the ramp, looking at the
marina built long ago, seeing where there had been many repairs with
many more needed, gives you the ambiance of this part of the United
States, something that has been here for a long time, maintained, and
has a lot of history. The marina was a little over two miles from
the launch ramp so Boris left for Rays Point Marina and I waited
to see out little boat appear on the water beyond the breakwater and
could see him heading west. Now it was my turn to jump into the
truck and pull the trailer up to the marina and catch the lines when he
arrived. Soon after Boris arrived we left to explore some
of the twenty-two islands which were named many years ago by explores,
the Apostle Islands. These are lovely cruising grounds, the
islands do not have much elevation but do have many trees with beaches
scattered here and there. Before Rachel & family arrived
Boris and I went out to eat one night and just happen to come upon a
local tradition, it is called a Fish Boil. It is prepared in a
large black pot over an open fire outside. They cook the local
whitefish, potatoes, and onions together and is served with butter
coleslaw and bread. Then for desert you are served
something that is picked locally, for us it was strawberry
shortcake. Our waiter was from Chezk, his first day on the
job with a wonderful strong accent that Boris discussed with him.
Then the waiter said he was rooming with five Russians while over here
for the summer. That added a nice little bit of spice to the
dinner also. We now import summer workers, especially in Bayfield,
which has a (winter) population of 211. The laundromat is in the next
town, 12 mi. south, though they do have 4 ice cream parlors.
When
Rachel, Jack, Jonathan, and Kate showed up we took a trip to one of the
larger islands, Stockton, and tied up to the breakwater, at which time
a ranger walked out and met us. She gave us a lovely tour through
the woods and pointed out the different trees and plants along the path
and we ended up coming out on a beach and the kids squealed with
excitement. Only problem was that the sky was getting dark and we
could hear thunder, so there was no playing in the water. We high
tailed it back to the boat and we no more got on, with Jack and
I untying the lines before it started coming down; a thunderstorm was
passing over the top of us. Back in the marina, a fun and
silly time was had by all on the boat with a few lessons thrown in,
i.e., it is tough to sleep six on a 25 foot C-Dory but we all gave it a
good try for a couple of nights. We took turns sleeping in the
cockpit on a blowup mattress that encompassed the entire cockpit and
leaked air. Need I say more. It was a special time and we
are thankful they were willing to put out the effort it took to spend
that time together.
Eben
Junction: Most people have never heard of Eben Junction and
neither had we until Phil, our son-in-law, said that was where his
parents lived on a farm. We decided to go and visit this out of
the way location, which also happens to be located about twenty miles
from the shores of Lake Superior. What a lovely place this turned
out to be. Florence, Phil’s mother, grew up there as a child, so
there was much history to this farm and now Howard and Florence live
there. The farm sits on top of a hill and is well
kept. The grounds are neat with the original barn, not far
from the house, that is in the process of falling down which made it
extremely picturesque. A neighbor is farming their land, so you
see bales of hay in the fields as you look out, deer walking through
the grounds. Close to the house, we saw woodpeckers pecking and cows
leisurely strolling through the pastures feeding, feeding, and
feeding. We parked our boat close to their house and had a
amazing view of their entire farm. Becky, their daughter who is a
missionary in Africa and visiting for a couple of months, and I went
and picked strawberries. It was certainly a new experience for
me. We picked and picked and picked strawberries until all our
containers were full and then spent the rest of the day packaging,
cleaning and storing and oh I forgot, eating. They were the best
strawberries I have ever eaten. Phil and Dorothy, our
daughter and son-in-law, showed up a couple of days after us and it was
fun to spend time with them and visit the many small towns located
nearby.
Our next adventure: Canada, the beginning of determined cruising.