30,000 Islands, Two Small Boats

[WI-Tom]

'Round about this time every year, the rights for some of the articles I wrote in the previous year revert back to me from the publisher. In this case, that's an article about a June trip to Georgian Bay in Small Boats, the sister publication for our host WoodenBoat. So, with thanks to Small Boats for the opportunity, I thought I'd try to lure some of the bilge rats above decks with a thread about the trip for those who missed the original article. Room for lots more photos, too!

The boats--plural because my brother was able to join me on this trip--included FOGG, my mostly-to-plan Alaska, a Whitehall-inspired long-distance cruising boat designed by Don Kurylko, launched in 2017:

Alaska.jpg

And my brother's Phoenix III, launched in 2011 and still going strong (honestly, I don't think he has even had to repaint his boat in 12 years, even though he used a porch-and-floor enamel latex paint and not some fancy harder stuff):

Phoenix III.jpg

Other than short trips around northern Wisconsin like THIS ONE, we hadn't been on a two-boat trip since... well, actually, we hadn't really ever managed a long-ish two-boat trip together. I'd been to the North Channel a bunch on trips up to 3-4 weeks long since 2010, and into Georgian Bay since 2014. And since I'm a slow builder, we've taken a number of trips crewing together on his Phoenix III (Grand Island, MI; the Apostle Islands of Lake Superior; the Everglades Challenge) while my boat was languishing away not getting built.

But my brother hadn't been to the North Channel since our 2011 trip (I crewed with him on his Phoenix III), and he had never been to Georgian Bay at all. I knew he was going to like it.

[WI-Tom]

For those who don't already know, Georgian Bay is a large sheltered arm of Lake Huron, on the eastern (Canadian) side:

Overview.jpg

The eastern shore of Georgian Bay is a small-boat Neverland of pines and granite known as the Thirty Thousand Islands. It's also the largest freshwater archipelago in the world, and a UNESCO biosphere reserve. Much of the coastal waters here are too shallow and rocky to safely take larger boats through, though there is a buoyed small craft route for boats that don't want to face the big open water and long fetches of Lake Huron proper. But get much beyond the charted route, and it's handy to be in a canoe, kayak, or a sail-and-oar cruising boat with the board and rudder up.

With only nine days for our trip--which had to include two solid days of driving from Wisconsin and back--our plan was to launch at the small town of Killarney, work our way eastward/southward through the Thirty Thousand Islands for a few days, and return. I thought we might just have time to reach the Bustard Islands, which is one of my favorite cruising areas in Georgian Bay--roughly 30 crow-flight miles from our launch point, on an easterly heading that ought to be favored by the region's prevailing W-NW winds. (Getting back, of course, might be a different tune altogether...)

basic map.jpg

Another likely area to spend time in would be the Fox Islands, just about 8 miles east of Killarney. Depending on when we'd launch, and how the winds were, that might make a good target for our first camp.

And that was about as far as planning went.

[WI-Tom]

But man, from Wisconsin to Killarney is a looooong drive--about 12 hours. On previous trips I had usually launched from the little town of Spanish, Ontario, on the North Channel--that cuts several hours of driving time off the trip, but adds a minimum of 2 days sailing just to reach Killarney and the gateway to Georgian Bay. We figured it would be better to drive farther this time to have more time in the Thirty Thousand Islands.

And so, we got to Killarney just as it was starting to get dark. There's actually a lovely little small-boat camping bay a mile out of town, so I thought we might launch the trip straight away. But as it turns out, it was also raining. And I just don't have the gumption to load a boat and start a trip in the rain. So we splurged on a motel room at the Sportsman's Inn--a significant boost in comfort, in exchange for significant loss in the dirtbag/stealth camping cred I have built up over the years. Oh, well. Pretty soon we'd be back to sleeping on bare granite out in the islands.

Next morning we got going fairly early--the rain had stopped--and launched the boats, letting a faint breeze carry us the mile down the channel to Georgian Bay while we rearranged gear, got the sails ready, and settled in:

Killarney Channel.jpg

Killarney probably has the highest per-capita boat population for any town in North America--the town functions as the northern gateway to Georgian Bay, with George Island on one side of the channel (with a few homes and docks, but no connecting bridges), and the main town on the other.

Killarney Channel 2.jpg

By the time we had drifted down to the east end of the channel and into Georgian Bay itself, near Killarney East Light, the breeze was just picking up enough for decent sailing. Perfect timing!

East Light.jpg

Turning left--north(ish) at the light--put us on a course paralleling the rocky coast at the north end of Georgian Bay. Along this stretch are a few sheltered bays and inlets where I'd camped and anchored on previous trips. I let Lance take the lead, figuring that he ought to have the chance to discover things for himself on his first visit to Georgian Bay. We don't tend to plan a lot...

Tarvat Bay.jpg

Generally, I'd say non-planning is sensible, though. At least for trips like these, where what you do depends on what the wind is doing. I figured we'd eventually turn east and sail over to the Fox Islands. Meanwhile, it was a pretty stretch of coast here, with the La Cloche Mountains forming the top edge of the horizon, and lots of cliffy rocky bits along the shore to enjoy.

[WI-Tom]

Just a mile or two up the coast, we passed the entrance to Tarvat Bay. I had anchored here on my first trip to Georgian Bay in 2014, when I borrowed my brother's Phoenix III because I wasn't done building my own boat yet.

Tarvat Bay 2.jpg

It's a neat little bay, almost completely closed in by 20' cliffs at the entrance. I was sorry to pass it by. But, there's so much to see in Georgian Bay, there's no way you can stop everywhere you might enjoy stopping. Instead, just past Tarvat Bay at the Rannie Rocks, we turned eastward to head for the Fox Islands about 7 miles (statue miles) offshore.

The day so far:

Day 1.1.jpg

We sailed into a stony-beached bay on the west side of Fox Island. With no dry-footed landing spot among the boulders, with a west wind blowing, Lance sailed around to the leeward side of West Fox. I decided to anchor off the beach and wade ashore:

West Fox 1.jpg

This was an early June trip, so the water was definitely cool. By mid-July, Georgian Bay is very swimmable. Not there yet. (And sadly, that also meant the raspberries and blueberries wouldn't be ripe either). But I love West Fox Island--I've stopped here on every trip to Georgian Bay but one--so I scrambled up the cliffs of this high(ish) dome to have a look around before setting out again.

The view looking S-SW:

West Fox 2.jpg

[Dave Hadfield]

Very familiar, lovely, scenes...

[Durnik]

that cuts several hours of driving time off the trip, but adds a minimum of 2 days sailing

hmm.. not seeing the problem here.. (-:

thanks for this!

[WI-Tom]

On previous trips I had usually launched from the little town of Spanish, Ontario, on the North Channel--that cuts several hours of driving time off the trip, but adds a minimum of 2 days sailing just to reach Killarney and the gateway to Georgian Bay.

hmm.. not seeing the problem here.. (-:

thanks for this!

I know what you mean--I've happily done the extra 4 days of sailing on other trips (2 days out, 2 days back). But Georgian Bay is, I'd say, an order of magnitude cooler than the North Channel (which is itself quite nice, just not as utterly magical). So with a tight schedule, I'd much rather spend those 4 days, and all the other days, in the Thirty Thousand Islands, rather than losing time in sailing there and back.

With an open schedule and no deadlines, I would definitely sail from Spanish and cover more distance. That's a very cool trip, and it's how I've done it before.

Tom

[WI-Tom]

On with the trip. Must've been around early afternoon on the first day when we finished poking around West Fox Island (we met on the summit and wandered around a bit, hanging out on the east side for a while).

Fox Island rowing 1.jpg

We then rowed down the east side of West Fox to where a narrow inlet opens to the southeast, but some kayakers were landing there just as we arrived, so we left them to it. Instead, we headed out to the northeast, toward Center Fox Island:

Day 1.2.jpg

Since it was less than a mile away, we didn't bother setting up the sailing rigs--nice to have boats that row so well that you don't feel obliged to make use of every bit of breeze.

Fox Island rowing 2.jpg

Whitehalls are, of course, well known for their excellent rowing capabilities. But the Phoenix III, 3' shorter and almost 100 lbs lighter, keeps up with absolutely no problem. Neither of these boats are speedsters, but they both make rowing a pleasure rather than a chore.

Fox Island rowing 3.jpg

I had sailed past Center Fox Island before, but had never landed. It looked like it might have the highest summit in the Fox Islands, so I was hoping we might be able to land on a rocky beach I remembered from the north side of the island, anchor the boats just offshore, and climb the dome to the peak for a look-see.

[WI-Tom]

As it turned out, the beach didn't look like it would offer a convenient landing spot.

Fox Island rowing 4.jpg

Rather than mess around trying to work something out to keep from bashing up the boats on the shallow boulders without needing to swim to shore, we kept going. I suggested we make the 3-mile crossing to Hawk Island, which I knew from past trips had a dramatic granite-dome summit to explore. This island is just far enough offshore that it doesn't show up on the strip charts for the small craft route, which were the charts we were using (they're definitely the best charts for the Thirty Thousand Islands, but they don't cover much of the offshore waters at all). But with good weather, we could see Hawk Island all the way (navigation is mostly by eyeball on Georgian Bay, if you're hugging the shore where all the interesting stuff is for small boats, anyway).

Hawk Island 2.jpg

We initially headed for the Hawk Island's NE corner, aiming for a clockwise circumnavigation, but on the way we changed our minds and circled around counterclockwise instead.

Day 1.3.jpg

I was thinking the little cove where I'd anchored 9 or 10 years ago might be a good landing spot, but it proved too open to the wind (which had been building steadily), and besided, water levels had dropped enough that the beach was not really safely approachable and we'd have a hard time wading ashore from where the boats would be OK.

Hawk Island 3.jpg

Lance managed to land, though, and could see that we'd be able in perfect shelter on the north side of the island. So we headed that way, under oars again (because, why not?)

Tom

[Jack Loudon]

Looks like a beautiful place to cruise; thanks for taking us along.

[WI-Tom]

Looks like a beautiful place to cruise; thanks for taking us along.

Oh, it's beautiful for sure. Heck of a long drive for you, though!

On with the trip. We rowed around to the north side of Hawk Island where we found a nice cobblestone beach well sheltered from the westerly winds. Tied the bows to shore with anchors off the stern to keep the boat off the rocks--the usual method in these lovely uncomplicated-by-tides waters.

Hawk 1.jpg

Steep hiking/easy scrambling up the smooth granite slabs brought us to the summit:

Hawk 2.jpg

From here a series of descents-followed-by-reascents took us across the summit platform and up and down a few ravines and crevasses, with some fun scrambling now and then.

Hawk 3.jpg

A really really neat island to explore--even better than what I remembered from my last trip (which, now that I think of it, was 9 years ago--where do the years go?!?!).

[WI-Tom]

We must have spent a couple of hours at least just exploring around. We climbed down to near the shore on the south side of the island.

Hawk 5.jpg

And back up to a sub-summit of the main peak:

Hawk 4.jpg

Finally completing a big loop that brought us back to our boats from the west:

Hawk 6.jpg

And it was still early in the day! What to do next? Where to go? I was a bit surprised that we hadn't spent more time in the Fox Islands, but with a strong westerly going now, it didn't make much sense to go back. Onward!

[WI-Tom]

One of the interesting things about the Thirty Thousand Islands is how difficult it is to identify features along the shore. For one thing, despite the occasional tall rocks and cliffs, the foreshore tends to be low-lying, with few distinguishing features. Then, too, there's generally a belt of rocks and shoals that extends offshore about half a mile on average--so it's difficult to get close enough to be certain of exactly what part of the land you're looking at.

But looking at our charts, there was a "Big Rock Portage" route that connected one little bay to the next--a handy thing indeed for a heavily laden canoe on a windy day, not wanting to face the big water offshore. And the name "Big Rock" suggested the possibility of another nifty summit or, at least, some big rocks. So we studied the shoreline carefully until we had convinced ourselves that we knew where to aim, and set out:

Day 1.4.jpg

It was getting pretty windy at this point, but not enough to need a reef in. We did manage to find the entrance to the east-side bay of the Big Rock Portage, but up ahead we could see a bunch of brightly colored canoes or kayaks on the shore there. Rather than crash their party, we turned east along the shore, paralleling the coast.

Big Rock.jpg

Neither of us was carrying a VHF--mine is no longer functional, and I'm not sure Lance ever owned one. So we held a somewhat-audible conference as we sailed along side by side. At this point it would have been a rough(ish) beat to get back to the Fox Islands several miles east, and neither of us seemed to be in a mood to turn back anyway. With my somewhat secret thought of reaching the Bustard Islands, I figured the more eastward progress we made, the better.

The problem is, this stretch of shore is bristling with rocks and shoals, with few clear passages into the interior where we'd find campsites. And what passages there are would be very difficult to spot along the low-lying shores anyway, especially while trying to manage sheet, tiller, and chart while moving at speed. So, I suggested we continue another 6 miles or so eastward, skirting the southern edge of a long stretch of shoals known as The Chickens.

(On my first Georgian Bay trip, using my brother's borrowed boat, I had made the mistake of thinking that a boat with a 6" draft could surely cut through the shoals marked on the charts. Lesson learned--not so).

But at the far end of The Chickens was Hen Island (named because it looks like a roasted chicken on the chart, with a plump body and distinct drumsticks sticking out to the northeast), which was a few acres of low granite slabs, some trees, and--best of all--a sheltered bay tucked up between the drumsticks. A bay with a sandy beach--the only sand beach I've found so far in the Thirty Thousand Islands. A perfect campsite that we could reach without needing to find a way through the belt of shoals and reefs protecting the shore.

Day 1.5.jpg

So, we headed that way:

Offshore.jpg

We did cut the corner a bit much at Rooster Rock (the rock marking the southwest corner of The Chickens), and had a few rocks to dodge along the way. But, as evening came on, we sailed up to the entrance to Hen Island's bay--perfectly sheltered from the SW winds--and rowed ourselves to camp.

Hen Island 1.jpg

[WI-Tom]

The day had gone perfectly--we had covered about 17 crow-flight miles from Killarney to Hen Island, probably well over 20 miles of actual sailing.

Hen Island 2.jpg

We set up tents on shore, along the island's eastern side where a wide expanse of flat(ish) granite slabs overlooked the open water.

Hen Island 3.jpg

A full moon, or nearly full. A good night.

[Bruce Bateau]

Nice story Tom. How do you choose to sleep ashore vs on the boats?

[Paul Pless]

thank you for these threads tom

[WI-Tom]

Nice story Tom. How do you choose to sleep ashore vs on the boats?

Hey, Bruce--

the choice to sleep ashore was easy for this trip--the silnylon tarp (10' x 8') that I have used for my "boat tent" ripped, and I had no time to repair it. I do have my minimal Eureka Solo "tent" that fits on the sleeping platform, but there's not even sitting headroom. Good for shelter in places where tenting is not convenient, possible, or legal, but not a preferred solution.

Likewise, the Phoenix III doesn't have a dedicated boat tent either.

So, since it's so easy most places in Georgian Bay to find slabs of granite, and the possibility of mosquitoes is always there, tent camping is often the simplest solution.

Tom

[WI-Tom]

thank you for these threads tom

You know, you're no longer 2,500 miles away from Killarney. Just sayin'...

Tom

[Jack Loudon]

Very enticing Tom. I'd never given much thought to the Great Lakes as a boating destination until now. I know you're an oar & sail guy, but Georgian Bay also looks like a fine place for kayaking.

[AJBTC]

Tom, thanks as always for these reports. I've only dabbled sailing up there (Potaganissing Bay in Drummond Island) but I know it is beautiful.

Do you have a list of maps you use? I've not heard of the small boat chart you refer to, and in general the north channel seems to be on several charts. I know there are expensive cruising guides but I'm leery of spending a hundred bucks just to get something suited to the large sail or motor boats.

[Dan McCosh]

Great photos, which I viewed with more than a twinge of regret. I spent some portion of the summers for about 70 years in that area, starting on my father's boat, then on several sail boats. Between the border closing, some major work needed on the boat, and health issues, we haven't been able to head north for about six years now. One thing worth noting is the implication that the area is mainly suited to small boats isn't really the case. We draw seven feet, and find access to hundreds of harbors and anchorages pretty easy to find. The terrain isn't really shallow or deep, but prone to extreme variations. At one spot, the bow can be at three feet, with the stern at 200 feet.

The 30,000 islands area includes both rocky shoals that extend well out into the bay, and deep harbor anchorages, river mouths, etc. that can handle pretty much anything. Might also note that the open waters are, well, open, and can dish out storms that can be quite severe. Twice we have rescued kayakers that got into trouble a couple of miles out into the bay. A storm a few years ago capsized and sunk a 40-foot power cruiser anchored in a relatively protected harbor. As for charts, the small boat strip chart is relatively new. For years, hand-drawn charts were all that were available, which were duplicated and handed around. Today, you can get charts on your cell phone that are excellent.
Might add that one of the attractions to the areas is that it is actual wilderness. Trapping and fishing are still significant ways to make a living. There is one road inland from the shore, and when you cross it, the next stop iOS Hudson Bay and the Arctic Ocean. Not many towns--Meldrum Bay had a population of about 50, last I looked.

[WI-Tom]

Very enticing Tom. I'd never given much thought to the Great Lakes as a boating destination until now. I know you're an oar & sail guy, but Georgian Bay also looks like a fine place for kayaking.

Oh, yeah--fantastic paddling. Kayaks are about the only other boats I run into on my trips, at least back in the really neat shallow-draft rocky areas I love best.

Tom

[WI-Tom]

Tom, thanks as always for these reports. I've only dabbled sailing up there (Potaganissing Bay in Drummond Island) but I know it is beautiful.

Do you have a list of maps you use? I've not heard of the small boat chart you refer to, and in general the north channel seems to be on several charts. I know there are expensive cruising guides but I'm leery of spending a hundred bucks just to get something suited to the large sail or motor boats.

Yep, Potaganissing Bay is beautiful. Not much public land there from what I recall, so I've always only ever passed through.

For Georgian Bay charts, you need the CHS (Canadian Hydrographic Service) #2202, 2203, 2204, 2205. These are the highly detailed strip charts showing every rock and inlet--each numbered chart is actually a set of 3-4 sheets. But since they don't cover much offshore, it's nice to have the big overall chart for Georgian Bay as well--I think that one might be 2241, shows the whole bay on one gigantic sheet. Usable in a small boat, kind of, if folded up and tucked inside a gallon-size Ziploc bag.

I wouldn't bother with a cruising guide for trips like this--if you feel a need for detailed descriptions, a kayaking-oriented guide would be more useful. Best of all (for me) is just to go without them and find stuff on your own. They are very friendly cruising grounds in summer, though there are bad weather days where you might need to stay ashore. (Got pinned down for 3 days on one trip).

Tom

[WI-Tom]

Great photos, which I viewed with more than a twinge of regret. I spent some portion of the summers for about 70 years in that area, starting on my father's boat, then on several sail boats. Between the border closing, some major work needed on the boat, and health issues, we haven't been able to head north for about six years now. One thing worth noting is the implication that the area is mainly suited to small boats isn't really the case. We draw seven feet, and find access to hundreds of harbors and anchorages pretty easy to find. The terrain isn't really shallow or deep, but prone to extreme variations. At one spot, the bow can be at three feet, with the stern at 200 feet.

The 30,000 islands area includes both rocky shoals that extend well out into the bay, and deep harbor anchorages, river mouths, etc. that can handle pretty much anything. Might also note that the open waters are, well, open, and can dish out storms that can be quite severe. Twice we have rescued kayakers that got into trouble a couple of miles out into the bay. A storm a few years ago capsized and sunk a 40-foot power cruiser anchored in a relatively protected harbor. As for charts, the small boat strip chart is relatively new. For years, hand-drawn charts were all that were available, which were duplicated and handed around. Today, you can get charts on your cell phone that are excellent.
Might add that one of the attractions to the areas is that it is actual wilderness. Trapping and fishing are still significant ways to make a living. There is one road inland from the shore, and when you cross it, the next stop iOS Hudson Bay and the Arctic Ocean. Not many towns--Meldrum Bay had a population of about 50, last I looked.

All good points. There are certainly bigger boats out there, I'm sure. But I've actually rarely seen them, except for the main anchorage in the Bustard Islands. A small boat with oars and a 7" draft really will get you into places few other boats can go.

But yes, it's perfectly feasible to sail there in larger boats. Dave Hadfield's 40' ketch Drake has been all over these waters for years, I'm pretty sure. Probably left a bit of paint on some rocks, too! (But hey, I've left paint on some rocks with MY boats). Good point about the extreme variations in depth.

Tom

[WI-Tom]

So, back to the second day of our trip. We had made it to Hen Island--where to next?

Back in 2014 I had tried a nifty little side trip up the western branch of the French River Delta, which is marked on charts as the Voyageur Channel (this is classic voyageur fur-trading country). From the charts, it had looked possible to sail up one channel, cross over the north side of a large island (Green Island) via an east-west channel, and exit the delta again a bit farther east, using the Fort Channel. But somehow I got lost along the way, ended up in a dead-end bay, and had to backtrack.

If we could try it again, I figured we might manage to make it through to... Well, to somewhere.

Day 2.1.jpg

A nice flat sandy beach makes for easy packing up when we finally did get moving:

2.14.jpg

An easy row out the narrow bay between Hen Island's drumsticks:

2.10.jpg

Winds were light at first when we set out, in the not-too-godawful-early morning. I was sitting on the leeward side heeling FOGG to keep some shape to the sails at first:

2.11.jpg

[WI-Tom]

But, per the typical summer pattern on Georgian Bay, winds picked up and soon enough we were sailing along at a good clip. Here FOGG's extra 2-3' on the waterline gave me enough speed advantage to be well ahead when it was time to gybe and head inland (we were about 2.5 miles offshore at this point), trying to aim for the entrance to the Voyageur Channel, which, like lots of channels on the low-lying shores, was hard to identify from any distance out.

2.13.jpg

In fact, the wind was getting what I'd call "zippy" by now, always interesting when approaching a rocky lee shore. It did look like our aim was good, and soon enough we were at the entrance to the Voyageur Channel. Lots and lots of rocks, narrow narrow channels, and enough wind to be moving very fast. I rounded up at a wide spot in the channel to tie in a reef, at which point Lance passed me in the Phoenix III (one of my favorite photos from this trip):

2.15.jpg

This area of the French River Delta is amazing--hundreds of parallel channels, very narrow ones, that run along the grooves where glacial ice and drift have dug deep into the surface and scraped the topsoil away (hence all the bare granite). With a west or southwest wind (which we had), you can sail for miles up narrow cliff-lined channels maybe only a boatlength or two wide. Really really neat.

I got done reefing my sail and started off again, heading NE up the channel nearest the western shore of the delta, which I hoped was the Voyageur Channel that would take us up around Green Island. Lance had pulled into a little side bay to wait for me while I reefed (the Phoenix III, at 76 sq ft of sail compared to the Alaska mainsail's 85 sq ft, never needs to reef as early as I do).

2.16.jpg''

And then we were back together, floating around in the little side inlet, mostly out of the wind, which was now pretty ferocious. A bit unsettling to be screaming downwind in a narrow channel with no room to maneuver, and rocks all around (though depths in the channels seem fine even with the board and rudder down).

And that will have to be enough for now. Day 2 will continue later. Off to read and get some un-screen time before bed. Cheers!

Tom

[AJBTC]

Yep, Potaganissing Bay is beautiful. Not much public land there from what I recall, so I've always only ever passed through.



Tom

Correct, most of the islands in the bay are private. Harbor Island is a wonderful place to tuck into for a night, virtually windproof, but you must stay on your boat because there's no overnight camping. Other than that it would be over at Lime Island, one of the cabin places on Drummond (most have camping), or do a circumnavigation of Drummond and stay on state land. The Canadian crown lands sure have it going with public access!

PS: the Canadian Nature Conservancy has a few projects on land in the North Channel and is worth donating to if you care about this area.

[Ron Williamson]

I know what you mean--I've happily done the extra 4 days of sailing on other trips (2 days out, 2 days back). But Georgian Bay is, I'd say, an order of magnitude cooler than the North Channel (which is itself quite nice, just not as utterly magical). So with a tight schedule, I'd much rather spend those 4 days, and all the other days, in the Thirty Thousand Islands, rather than losing time in sailing there and back.

With an open schedule and no deadlines, I would definitely sail from Spanish and cover more distance. That's a very cool trip, and it's how I've done it before.

Tom

Little Current is another option.
R

[WI-Tom]

Little Current is another option.
R

Yes, but that still leaves pretty much one full day of sailing before you get to Georgian Bay, and one full day back to the car. So, you end up losing two days that you could've spent in Georgian Bay. Which, on a normal open-ended trip is fine with me--I actually like a longer journey, and have always done my trips from Spanish with the passage through the North Channel a nice start to the trip.

But when time is limited to seven sailing days as it was on this trip, I'd rather spend all seven in Georgian Bay. (This is the first time I've driven to Killarney to launch).

Tom

[WI-Tom]

On with day two of the trip:

Almost as soon as we set out again after regrouping, I realized it was way too windy for one reef. Probably, given our downwind heading, I needed all three reefs in. It also occurred to me that, even triple-reefed, we'd be zooming along through this leg of the journey so fast that there would hardly be time to properly enjoy it. Plus, narrow channels, wind almost dead astern--seemed like a recipe for unintended gybes or other disasters, with no room to maneuver.

So, almost right way, I found a wide(ish) spot where I thought I could head into the wind, managed the turn (just barely), and dropped the rig entirely. It was time to land and explore one of the long skinny finger-shaped granite ridges that we were sailing by. So, I did.

2.17.jpg

Lance pulled in nearby to enjoy some shore leave and, while we were at it, some lunch.

2.19.jpg

We were still near the southern end of the Voyageur Channel, with another 2-3 miles to go before we had to turn the corner and sail east past the northern end of Green Island. But it was definitely the right move to stop and explore for a while--what a neat area to poke around in with a boat!

2.18.jpg

When I painted my Alaska, I love the pale green hull. The cream decks ("Yacht Beige" actually) work well too. But the interior? Two problems: although it's "Almond Shell" or something, it's awfully bright white in some lights. And, there's not enough contrast between the decks and the interior.

Neither of which problems has bothered me enough to actually repaint or anything... (See where I fit on the "Perception of Perfection" thread? )

Tom

[WI-Tom]

Eventually we got back in the boats. The wind was so strong at this point that we didn't bother raising the sails. Just rowed casually downwind, up the Voyageur Channel (or what we hoped was the channel--so far it didn't look a lot different from my last attempt 9 years ago, when I had failed to find a way through).

2.20.jpg

Really, we were mostly just drifting along in the wind, using the oars only now and then to steer. For a while I even just steered with the tiller and let the wind do all the work. Since we didn't really need any power, we were both facing forward rather than rowing conventionally--the Alaska is set up well for forward-facing rowing, with a thwart on either side of the oarlocks. Lance borrowed one of the filler planks from my sleeping platform to do the same thing on the Phoenix III.

2.21.jpg

Again, we were in no hurry at all. A cool gray-sky day, but no rain. We stopped ashore whenever we felt like it, knowing we'd stumble across a campsite we loved sooner or later.

2.22.jpg

[WI-Tom]

However we managed it, we had no trouble whatsoever following the Voyageur Channel all the way up around the north side of Green Island. It was so easy that I have no idea how I managed to NOT find the route back in 2014. Well, OK, I have two ideas how that might have happened:

1. Complete incompetence on the part of the navigator.

2. Low water levels in 2014--extremely, historically low on the upper Great Lakes--might have actually dried up the northernmost stretch of the channel right before it turned east. I seem to remember that the dead end I sailed into involved marshy barely-wet pondy backwater sailing where there just wasn't enough depth for even a dinghy. I'll choose to believe this is the explanation!

Once on the north side of Green Island, we found this nice side hike:

2.26.jpg

We might have rowed our boats up this canyon, but A. it was probably going to be too narrow for oars, and B. there was a fierce SW wind blowing that would have made it hard. So, better to explore on foot.

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Eventually the channel became a marshy shallow bit where we were able to wade across to the rocky ridge on the other side of the canyon:

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I love cliffs that drop directly into the water. This was a really cool little hike--not long (less than a mile, surely) but well worth it.

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[Jack Loudon]

Good stuff Tom. The area would be great in high summer with warm water. Walking, wading, swimming, to a secluded campsite. I've had memorable times on PNW rivers doing similar.

[WI-Tom]

Good stuff Tom. The area would be great in high summer with warm water. Walking, wading, swimming, to a secluded campsite. I've had memorable times on PNW rivers doing similar.

Yep, by mid-July (when I've usually gone), the water is perfectly swimmable, quite warm. Especially compared to Lake Superior, which (apart from a shallow sandy bay here or there) is always frigidly cold, or nearly so. It's not unusual for me to swim for an hour or so in the evening most nights of a trip later in summer.

Tom

[WI-Tom]

A look at day two's progress so far:

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As we passed the east end of Green Island, it was time to head south again, following the Fort Channel back out to open water (at least, that was the plan). We purposefully chose the narrowest channel we could find, which made for some groovy casual rowing.

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There was one narrow spot (also extremely shallow) that called for SUP paddling rather than oars:

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This could easily have been a dead end--had there been an inch less depth, or a couple of inches less room between rocks, we'd have had to turn back and find another route. As it was, it worked out perfectly (if "perfectly" includes a scrape or two on the rocks).