Georgian Bay

Georgian Bay and Home

The Trent Severn Canal is behind us and Georgian Bay ahead of us. After we went through the last lock, we found our way to Midland’s City dock. What a let down after the calm night we had the night before. This was a city dock, not a private cove as the night before. There were many people walking around and we were tied off up against a metal bulkhead, used as a retaining wall, and the dock would squeak and clang as the docks moved up and down when boats went by or the surge of the water from boaters out in the bay. It was also hot and humid and the wall blocked most of the breeze and that probably didn’t help my attitude any.

Boris and I were trying to figure out the logistics of where to bring the truck and where our boat should be. Bill and Joyce Sims, a couple we meet in Peterborough, who live in Midland, offered to drive us back to Orillia to pick up our truck, which was about thirty miles. That was one of our main obstacles, getting the truck, trailer, and boat back together. So we gladly took them up on their offer. But we discovered that Midland really didn’t have a reasonable place to leave the truck and trailer. If we wanted to spend $100 a week, we could leave it in Midland, but we found out that in Penetanguishene (Penetang for short,) the next town over, also had a city dock and a place to leave the truck and trailer if we bought a season pass, which was $89. By the way Penetang is French and Midland is English. The following morning we got up early and drove the boat over to Penetang, tied it up to the city dock, met Bill and Joyce there and with much generosity on their part, they drove us all the way to Orillia and made sure the truck started before they left. It felt good to be in the truck again but boy, was it dirty after sitting in Orillia for a few weeks while we explored the Trent Severn Canal. As we drove through Midland, Boris noticed that a young high school group was having a car wash. He swung over there and pulled in. As they were washing the truck, I asked one of the adults what this car wash was for. They said it was money to compete in extreme cheerleading contest that was to be held in Anaheim, California. I pointed to our license plate and all the girls squealed and then gathered around the license plate and had their picture taken. The Penetanguishene city dock wasn’t any better than the Midland city dock. We decided we would move to a regular marina across the bay but first we loaded the boat onto the trailer, drove it to a gas station, filled it up with gas, and launched it again. Gasoline is much cheaper at a gas station than at a gas dock on the water. Hindson Marina was wonderful. The facilities were kept up and clean, they had everything we needed there, a place to do laundry, even wi-fi e-mail, plus it was quiet and the water was calm. The price was no more than the city dock. It was windy for the last couple of days and it turned out we would end up staying in this marina for a week waiting for weather we were willing to travel in. Even the locals stayed in, for the most part.

Since we knew we would be here for several days, we took the boat over to the city dock, Boris unhitched the truck from the trailer, he took the boat back to Hindson Marina and I drove the truck over the marina. It was wonderful to have wheels again and we used them to our full advantage. First we toured a British Naval establishment built in 1793, which was rebuilt representing that same time period. The employees were dressed in period costume and did a great job of explaining how things were done, showing us actual tools and giving demonstrations on how items were made, cooked, and even how surgeons did their work. Our guide was a lowly sailor and spoke to others who worked there in the language and style of that era. It was fun and interesting.

The following morning I had gotten up earlier than I had thought it was so I had some extra time on my hands. It was much cooler today and not muggy – we are loving it. Boris was working on the computer, so I went for a little walk around the marina and I noticed they were getting ready to haul out a boat using their sling. That is always interesting to watch so I walked over to watch and realized there was much more going on than just hauling a boat out of the water. First thing I noticed was that the cabin cruiser was tied off to a tug and then I noticed a pump on the bow of the boat, pumping out large amounts of water from a hose dropped down through the front hatch. Not a good sign. The tug untied itself from the boat and they moved the boat forward in the sling, the pump still working. They got the boat in place and hauled her out. Everyone was waiting to see the bottom of this poor boat. Turned out they were anchored in a cove the night before and the wind kicked up around midnight and drove the boat onto the rocks on shore. Lee shore and small anchor, they were from Lake Simco. The Coast Guard came and took the two families off the boat, in the middle of the night, and brought them to the city dock where they called a cab to take them to a hotel. They told me they finally got to bed around 4:00 a.m. The bottom of the boat was pretty chewed up from the continual banging on the rocks; there was a hole near the front of the boat on the bottom that maybe you could put your fist through, the port propeller was twisted and bent, and the entire length of the keel was chipped and beaten. This was not a pretty sight. This only helped re-enforce our decision to stay here through the week and wait for better weather.

Today would be another tour day, The “Sainte-Marie among the Hurons”, which was founded by the French Jesuits in 1639 in order to convert the Hurons. The area was recreated to represent that time period and the employees again wore period costumes. There were many demonstrations on how they lived at that time, which truly was fascinating from the herbs they used for medicines, a large smoking room were they showed the many skins of animals that were there at that time, to how canoes were made from bark, their clothes, both French and Indian, and why the clothes were made the way they were. Everything was done for a specific reason. Again, we thoroughly enjoyed this wonderful exhibit. This establishment was actually a retreat area for the Jesuits who were serving the local villages, but this retreat only lasted about ten years, mainly because of the continual difficulties between the cultures.

August 16, 2007: The rain and wind came early this morning and we are still waiting out the weather in this marina. Today was spent on general maintenance of the boat. We both watch the weather as it drifts by. They predict winds between 20 – 30 knot today and as we sit in the cockpit with our lunch, we listen to the sailboat halyards clang continually against the mast and we can hear the wind howl through the marina. Another reinforcement as to why we are sitting here waiting for the weather to improve.

August 18, 2007: After a week at the marina we decide we will leave, the wind is 15 knots. There were hordes of boats leaving at the same time; everyone was waiting for this window of decent weather to finally get out on the water. Our first anchorage will be at Beausoleil Island, a national park. It was only fifteen miles and we anchored in a small cove in shallow water. The bay is large and there are boats anchored in all the little nooks and crannies located around the shore. Boris blew up the dinghy and we rode over to the island and enjoyed a walk in this beautiful state park. The only areas that do not have houses are the state parks. Even large rocks located in the water have houses on them and this area is mostly rock, so they prop the houses up on some type of support, be it bricks, logs, whatever works.

The following morning we enjoyed with our coffee observing all of nature around us. With so many boats we decided to leave this area before the waters get lumpy from the jet skies, boats and small run-abouts that get busy on the water. Boris had done a lot of research to figure out where some good anchorages would be and where we would be protected from the wind. As we motored along at about eight knots, we took in the beautiful waterways, the amazing houses, and snaked our way back around corners to see where the back anchorages were located. Some of the passages only showed 4 ft depth, but the boat slid right through. It is obvious it is the weekend by the number of boats on the water. One of the continual themes of these waters is the large smoothed rocks, created by the glaciers years ago, some low lying scrub bushes and large trees whose roots finally give out because of the small amount of dirt where they struggle to grow. We finally decide on a fairly secured anchorage for the night because it is supposed to be 15 – 20 knots of wind starting at around mid-night. When we arrived there were four or five boats. They all left by late afternoon and a large motorboat came in for the night. There were just the two boats for the night. As we sit in this beautiful cove in the afternoon we observe that the weather is cool, cloudy, with the clouds being quite dark, and it almost looks like it will rain but it doesn’t. The half moon set early in the evening, so we knew it would be a dark night tonight. Unfortunately we were fairly anxious about this anchorage because there was grass on the bottom, even though it was protected from the predicted South wind. Even though we anchored three times and felt the anchor was secure, grass on the bottom never gives a boater a secure feeling. It was decided that we would do two-hour anchor watch to make sure we did not drag. Boris got up at 11:00 p.m., the wind was calm, so he crawled back into bed. He woke up about ever hour or two and fortunately for us the wind was calm all night. This does not make for a restful night though.

It had been a long night, especially for Boris. I got up around 7:30 a.m. and you could see a little wind ruffle the top of the water, the sun looked like a fuzzy yellow ball because there was a high cloud cover. As I sat in the cockpit to observe the morning, it was obvious we were in a well protected anchorage, thank heavens. I could hear the leaves rustling that were on the crest of the hill, the boat was lightly swinging at anchor, there were ripples on the water from the wind, I could feel the cool breeze go by and am not complaining that I need to wear socks and a sweater. We are becoming somewhat frustrated because we can not seem to get more than two days of decent weather without the strong winds. It has definitely hampered our exploring these waters.

After Boris got up we decided we were not going to spend another night like that while in these waters. We pulled up anchor, drove into Honey Harbor in Georgian Bay, and stayed at a tiny marina. After Boris took a nap we walked into town and picked up a few things, one being a newspaper. The first thing we did was look at the long range forecast and it indicated that the next day would be OK but windy, the following three days would be raining, and we know that after rain comes there is at least one day of high winds. That was enough for us, we were not going to spend another week in a marina waiting for weather to pass. At this time we did not know of the devastating rains in Minnesota.

We rose early and left around 8:00 a.m. and 15 – 20 knot winds had already kicked up. The ride back was pretty lumpy but at this point we were quite focused on getting the boat out of the water. We made good time, the boat planes well over the chop, and had the boat out of the water and ready to go by 10:30 a.m. and by 3:30 p.m. we had driven through Southern Ontario and crossed back into the United States at Port Huron.

While we were by Detroit, actually Dearborn, there were a couple of museums that Boris wanted to see. We took a couple of extra days and I really just want to mention them

because they were absolutely wonderful and would encourage you to see them if you are in this part of the States. These museums were build by Henry Ford and dedicated a few days before the stock market crash in 1929. The first one was called the Greenfield Village, which was another recreation of a town between the middle 1800’s and the early 1900’s. The difference was these were actual houses of people important to all of us and some important to Henry Ford. The Wright Brother’s home and bicycle shop, Henry Ford’s home where he grew up and his first (successful) auto factory, shops where they demonstrated how glass blowing was done, how pottery was and is made, all period costumes and all of this on 90 acres. The glass factory cost us, ask to see the ratoulle dish. The following day we toured the Rouge Plant that Henry Ford built in the early 1900’s and is still working today producing the Ford pick-up 150 and finally the Ford museum located next to the Greenfield Village. When we first walked in, there were rows of cars and I thought, “This will be a long day”. Turned out to be a walk down memory lane. Everything we looked at was the history of our country from large steam engines that drained the mines to cars sitting next to drive-in restaurants where they would put food on a tray attached to your windows. Many of us remember that. The museum was so much more than I expected to see and I really hadn’t heard of it before, even though Boris has been waiting to see this since we toured the East Coast in 2002. This is definitely a place worth visiting.

After we finished the Ford Museum, we spent several days near Chicago, with Rachel, the midwest daughter and her family. Finally, the time came to leave for the West Coast. We walked the twins to school, and then hitched up the boat, leaving for Grand Rapids, Nebraska. On the way we went looking for eskers, and instead found the Hennepin Canal. First an esker is a low ridge of rock left by a glacier (the Wisconsian in this case,) and all the ridges looked the same to us. However, the Hennepin Canal runs from Hennepin, Il., to the Mississippi River and was built in 1903. It's now a placid stream that you can paddle from one end to the other, though portaging around the locks. Why was it built so late? To give the railroads competition; when it was completed the railroads cut the farmer's rates in half.

The next day, we left Des Moines, and got lost. We finally figured that south to Kansas City was not the way we wanted to go. Instead of driving back to Des Moines, we picked out US 34 and went west on that. Luck beats skill, instead of pounding down I-80 we were on a smooth two lane road, driving through the heart of Iowa. This gave us a chance to look at the farms and learn all the various shades of green and pass through the small towns. Crossed the Missouri on an old iron toll bridge (private, $2.25, we had to back up the boat to make it around,) and then through an old Missouri River town. It was a lovely way to go, and we got there just as quickly.

In Grand Rapids, we met Dick and Lana Holmquist. Dick was a fellow student/biker with Boris and he had worked at the New Holland/Case/IH combine factory in Grand Rapids. Turns out the farm machinery business has been bought and sold as much as the aerospace business. Dick gave us a tour of the combine assembly line, where they assembled yellow (New Holland) combines and red (can't remember) combines. Boris loved the tour, but can't remember why some combines have two rotors and some have one. Taking the tour with us was a Missouri farmer who had brought a rotor up for balancing. He was a fount of information, farmed 1000 acres, ran a seed cleaning business, etc. It must take a lot of skill and work to make money in farming.

Continuing on home we kept on through the rest of Nebraska, and into Laramie, Wyoming. The road west goes uphill gradually and we finally got out of corn and into grazing land; it's all beautiful country. Along the way, we went through a cold front. We expected rain, but we got hail; thought the window would go, and we'd get dents in the metal. Nevertheless the semi trucks (some of them) didn't slow down, we sure did. Finally we got through the falling hail, but now there was several inches of hail on the road, Boris just pointed the truck where he hoped it'd go and we made it through. No dents, but bent the fins on the A/C radiator. I-80 follows the Oregon Trail up over the Rockies, because its a constant climb. They went 25 miles per day, we went 60 miles per hour.

At Laramie, we turned south to Steamboat Springs, Co. to see the town, as Bridgette, the SoCal daughter, and family have a condo there. The trip down was on county roads, and just as beautiful as US 34, though different scenery. Steamboat Springs is Manhattan Beach West. They're building all over, and the town has a lot of small shops and young people. It also has the best Mexican food we had on this trip. It is scenic and woodsy, home of the US Olympic ski jumping team. Out of town was down to I-70 and back onto the interstate.

Stopping to take pictures of the scenery, we met two guys driving from Georgia to California. Where to? Anywhere, in this beat Mazda pick up. Here are the pics they wanted us to take, and we'll send them a copy. Jack Kerouac is alive and well.

Down through Utah, Arizona, Nevada and we finally made it home. Thank you for sharing our adventures with us. Both Boris and I are looking forward to exploring our little part of the world again.

For those who care, here are some numbers on the trip. Boat: miles 660 Statute Miles, ~4 mpg. Truck: 8100 Miles, ~8.5 mpg. For every boat mile 12 truck miles.