Leaving the Great Lakes Behind

(Originally published in 2012)

It was July of 1999 and the time had arrived for our greatly anticipated departure from the Great Lakes, the first step in our great southbound sojourn. I had put my temporary relief work position on hold for three months that summer for the trip. Prior to our departure we spent a lot of time researching the choices for making the trip to the coast. All of our choices involved a trip down to and across the length of Lake Erie at which point we would be faced with three possible choices: 1) enter directly into the Erie Canal at Tonawanda, New York near Buffalo and head across upstate New York; 2) at Niagara Falls take the Welland Canal around the Falls and into Lake Ontario, cross the lake and take the Oswego Canal connection to the Erie Canal; 3) or transit the Welland Canal and continue the length of the St. Lawrence Seaway out to the North Atlantic via Canada’s maritime provinces. At the time we were unaware of a fourth possibility, that being a trip up the St. Lawrence Seaway as far as the Richelieu River Chambly Canal system which connects to Lake Champlain to the south and then to the Hudson River via the Champlain Canal. That route we never really checked into.

All my attempts at researching the St. Lawrence Seaway route met with frustration. There just didn’t seem to be much information available on the topic at the time. I checked online and I checked the archives of the SSCA Bulletin (published by the Seven Seas Cruising Association). I found a little information on a couple short legs of the trip but I couldn’t find any useful articles on taking a small boat from Lake Ontario all the way to the Gulf of St. Lawrence and down the east coast of Canada and the U.S. There were some romantic aspects to the idea, and it sounded like a really venturesome voyage – except for a couple of serious issues. At the top of the list was COLD. Annie and I had already made our decision some years ago to leave the Great Lakes because of the cold. We were in search of sunshine and sandy beaches. Taking the St. Lawrence River to its mouth, a couple hundred miles north of Maine, seemed like an invitation to misery and, in spite of the allure of the adventure, just did not fit in with our goals. Not only that, the extra distance would double the length of the trip requiring a substantial additional investment in time. The other issue of concern was fog. We have sailed some in fog – enough to know that it is scary, nerve-wracking, and dangerous. I have no worries about my own navigational skills, but I have great reservations over that of others, not to mention the tremendous lack of common sense in a lot of people out there. Therefore I could not do the St. Lawrence trip without investing in a radar unit and, since our intention was to keep things as simple as possible and to spend our time in locations where fog is virtually nonexistent and radar unnecessary, it seemed like a waste of money. The Oswego Canal trip versus the straightforward direct entry from Lake Erie into the Erie Canal was something of a toss-up. We thought it would be fun to do the Lake Ontario crossing just because we had never done Lake Ontario, but it finally came down to a simple cost comparison. The added expense of the Welland Canal transit was one thing, but then the cost of unstepping our mast and the additional marina fees in Oswego were also significantly greater than going through Tonawanda. So we allowed cost to be the decision maker.

It was an inauspicious departure from Bay Harbor Marina in Bay City, at the foot of Saginaw Bay – no different from any other of our many weekend or summer vacation trips, except this time we weren’t coming back. It was exciting and a little bit daunting. With our limited sailing experience we were about to undertake a trip that might eventually involve thousands of miles. But as the saying goes, a trip of a thousand miles begins with a single step; or in this case a routine trip from one familiar port to another. As we left we were well aware of the extremely low water levels on the Great Lakes and were concerned about the potential for problems with our deep draft.

The first night we dropped the hook in the Michigan DNR marina in Tawas City, about 60 miles from Bay City, on the northern corner of Saginaw Bay where the Bay joins Lake Huron. Next day we crossed the mouth of Saginaw Bay from north to south and hit the state marina at Port Austin on the tip of Michigan’s “thumb.” From Port Austin we headed down the eastern shoreline of the thumb to Port Sanilac, where we were able to drop anchor in another one of the Michigan State Park system marinas. Then on the following day we passed out of Lake Huron under the Bluewater Bridge at Port Huron and into the waters of the St. Clair River.

Here we had what I refer to as an itinerary accident. Our float plan for the day had called for a short trip coming from Port Sanilac and stopping at a marina in Port Huron, but when we got to Port Huron the day was so beautiful and the going so pleasant that we chose to head further down the river to a different marina located at the confluence of the St. Clair River and Lake St. Clair. A cruising guide we were carrying told us the marina had plenty of water for us to get in, but when we got there the brutal reality of the drop in water levels on the Great Lakes hit home. With darkness approaching, we ran aground in less than five feet of water in the turnoff to the marina. When we called on the radio, marina personnel told us they had “plenty of water” (With our 6 ½ foot draft, this was not the first and would not be the last time we were to hear those words.), but a nearby boat called us and advised that we not even try. After several attempts we backed off and headed across the lake. Fortunately the crossing of Lake St. Clair was pretty uneventful, but it was still quite unnerving in the dark and we were now in foreign waters with busy shipping lanes and no idea where to hole up for the night. Entering the Detroit River from the southern shoreline of the lake, we motored along blindly until, silhouetted against the shoreline lights, we saw another sailboat crossing our path in front of us. A brilliant scheme was hatched. We watched them head into a marina on the Michigan side of the river and, with no other apparent choice, we simply altered our course and followed them into what turned out to be Grosse Point Woods Marina. We sought refuge for the night at this private marina and received it, even if not exactly with open arms. This nearly one hundred mile day turned out to be the longest single day passage of the whole trip.

Next morning we were off early. Today’s plan called for heading off to Lake Erie and spending a day or two visiting the party town of Put-In-Bay on South Bass Island. Annie however was having an issue with pain in her foot. On our late night approach to the pier the previous night in Grosse Point Woods, she had landed awkwardly on her foot as she jumped to the dock to grab our lines and we were afraid she might have broken a bone. So we decided to make a stop to visit a doctor. Without local knowledge and without a means of transportation, Detroit was out of the question so we headed on down the Detroit River, under the Ambassador Bridge connecting Detroit with Windsor, Ontario, past Bob-Lo Island, years ago home to a popular Coney Island type amusement park, and we found a marina on the Canadian side that looked to be pretty conveniently located on the river. We stopped in Amherstburg, Ontario, where we tied up and asked directions to the nearest doctor’s office within walking distance of the marina. The town was pleasant, the people were friendly, and our experience with Canada’s healthcare system was overwhelmingly positive. Annie got her foot x-rayed and two separate doctors’ opinions that there was no sign of a fracture, all at a cost of less than fifty dollars U.S. We spent that night tied up in the marina on the edge of the busy Detroit River shipping channel, but left next morning with a favorable impression of the town and its people. Our trip from Lake St. Clair to Lake Erie, the full length of the Detroit River, despite its short length of less than twenty miles, had offered some challenge

The following morning we were off to start our Lake Erie crossing. On our way out the mouth of the Detroit River we had an apparent wind-against-current condition as we pounded into the chop for a good two hours or more. As we slogged our way along, conditions were turbulent enough that I found it prudent to turn on our electric lift pump to assist the engine fuel pump in delivering fuel from the tank to the engine. Eventually, as we got further out into the lake, conditions eased and we had a pleasant motorsail out to the Bass Islands. The Commodore Perry Monument, a 352-foot tall column located at Put-In-Bay, built to memorialize the hero of the Battle of Lake Erie where Perry defeated the British Royal Navy during the war of 1812, is visible for miles as you approach the island. I consider Put-In-Bay to be the Mackinac Island of Lake Erie. On the island itself, travel is by golf carts and is quite relaxing and enjoyable, especially if one has a severely sprained ankle and has been ordered to rest it, although the town is small and compact enough to be easily toured on foot. In addition, water taxi services are readily available from the anchorage and moorings in the harbor, so a dinghy is not a necessity. The town of Put-In-Bay is touristy and makes for a pleasant stop for a night or two in a well-sheltered harbor, and it can appeal to the partier in anybody. The remainder of the island is quite rustic compared to the village.

From the South Bass Island it was just a quick daysail across to Lorain, Ohio where we stopped for the night at Spitzer’s Lakeside Marina, a huge facility. Here we obtained from the marina office some literature on doing the Erie Canal. In addition we saw a boat tied up in the marina that was already all fit out for a canal transit with mast supports on deck. The owners ofBuckshot were not aboard so Annie left them a note introducing ourselves and mentioning that we hoped to see them again along the way. Eventually we met up on the canal and became quite good friends.

Next day offered up the possibility of some severe weather so we decided to put in at Fairport Harbor at the mouth of the Black River. Unfortunately we ran aground twice in our attempts to enter the local sailing club, so we eventually chose to tie up to what appeared to be an old and little used stone loading wharf on the river’s edge. We managed to have some supper and hit the rack early only to be awakened around midnight by a bazillion candlepower spotlight shining into the cockpit. A Coast Guard patrol boat advised us that we could not stay tied up where we were as lake freighters came in and loaded quite regularly at the wharf. Since we couldn’t go up river because of shoaling issues and since the potentially severe weather had evidently passed, we decided to head back out on the lake and shoot for Erie, Pennsylvania. Unfortunately about two miles out from the river mouth we popped a V-belt on the engine and the engine overheated so we dropped anchor and spent a couple of hours resting, letting the engine cool, and changing the belt. While we were there we saw one of the freighters the Coasties had warned us about heading into the river mouth. We contacted the ship on our VHF to alert them to our presence, and went on about our business. Where else but in Lake Erie can you anchor two miles offshore and still be in only thirty feet of water? We finished the engine work and upped anchor at about 3 AM and were off to Erie where we actually spent four days at the Presque Isle State Park Marina. It was now mid-July. We enjoyed our stay here tremendously. Nice marina, nice town, easy getting around, very pleasant.

Our 6-½ foot draft prevented us from stopping at any subsequent harbors along the Lake Erie shoreline, so we left Erie in the afternoon with the intention of doing an overnighter all the way to Buffalo, New York.  The sunrise presented a spectacular backdrop for the emerging Buffalo skyline as we made our morning approach and we stopped for fuel on our way through before we entered our very first lock. The Black Rock Canal connects Lake Erie’s water level to that of the Niagara River. We informed the lockmaster that we were newbies at the locking thing and he gave us all the assistance and direction that we could ask for. It was a good rehearsal for what was to be the locking experience of a lifetime for us. We came out of the Black Rock Canal and into the Niagara River and headed up to Tonawanda, New York and Wardell Brothers Boatyard to prepare Fidelis for the Erie Canal. The place didn’t look like much, but it turned out they knew their stuff and we had a very positive experience. We were ready to take on the Erie Canal. Our exit strategy had worked pretty well so far. We were on our way.