The fifty five mile passage north from Harrisville to Presque Isle Harbor along Michigan’s NE coastline required motoring and more than once my thoughts drifted back two days to the strong southerly breeze that blew the day after we arrived from Texas. I’d never found favorable winds for this leg… so wasn’t disappointed… but someday the law of averages will be kind and provide good sail on the first leg of a summer cruise.
Though forecast had been for thunderstorms to start late in the evening, we had been graced with several small squalls during the afternoon but they hadn’t impeded our northering. At Presque Isle marina we took temporary dockage and enjoyed a nice meal at the restaurant followed by ice cream from the store eaten as we carried ice back to the boat. With no sign of bad weather, and enough daylight remaining, Lin headed to the showers. She had hardly disappeared within when distant rumblings were heard and I wished us on our way to anchorage in the large harbor/bay.
Ayla, my Sheltie dog and I were walking and turned back to the boat, which needed additional dock lines if we stayed in the marina. As we neared, Lin exited the showers and as we had a very short way to the anchorage location, there seemed time before the storm hit.
The Danforth bow anchor was set and holding just prior to onset of the leading edge of the storm. Within seconds, large water drops followed and seconds more… a deluge of rain and high wind was upon us chasing us to the dryness of the cabin. My depth sounder is a combo unit with GPS, which mounts on a stud either side of the cabin bulkhead. It had been retrieved inside so that the depth could be monitored. With high wind and rain pummeling the boat , I watched the sounder to ensure that we weren’t dragging anchor. It alternated between 12-13 feet, normal as the boat swings on her rode. Perhaps a minute went by with the 12-13 feet holding so I relaxed, and took a cabin seat.
It was near dusk when we anchored and the storm had added to the darkness. Looking for shore cabins to confirm my confidence that we weren’t dragging… I noted their lighted windows. In an instant, I knew something was wrong…. the cabins were too far distant. We were dragging anchor… I hadn’t realized the bay bottom was such uniform depth.
Lurching to the cockpit, the wind was so strong that it was driving R&R sideways with the anchor rode at nearly a right angle. Wind loading must have been enormous. Driven rain was stinging my face with pellets that at first I thought was hail. A quick glance showed that we had drug two-thirds the way across the three quarter mile bay. These observations were all secondary to the primary effort that was decided the moment that I saw the cabin lights… the Bruce anchor had to be set as quickly as possible.
It was in the port cockpit locker and as always, ready for quick deployment. The bitter end of the rode emerged from under the coil with its loop to throw over a winch. The anchor and chain flowed easily from the locker and was eased over the windward coaming. As soon as it was on the bottom, rode was played out and I determined to cleat off when half the coil was gone.
Standing there prepared to cleat the rode, there was a moment to assess. Though it had drug, the bow anchor had not broken out. Had it, we likely would now be on the rocks of the leeward side of the bay. It had drug… perhaps 600 yards, a long way not to break out or have the anchor rode cut on rock or bottom debris.
I chastised myself, as I knew that the Bruce was a better holding anchor than the Danforth and should have been set first as the storm closed on us. Both should have been set before seeking the shelter of the cabin.
I felt foolish, for not knowing that the bay was so flat and having allowed the sounder to falsely lull me to a feeling of safety when in fact, we were in peril. I felt guilty for leaving the safety of the marina simply to meet my personal preferences towards the freedoms felt at anchor. I gave thanks for the shore side cabin lights that gave the warning. Thanks for the bow anchor not breaking out and for the Bruce’s readiness to deploy. But, these were only fleeting thoughts…as my attention was focused on the loose rode and cleating it when the necessary rode had payed out. Then, as suddenly as the high wind had started, it abated. The leading edge of the front had moved east. I stood there relieved and soaked, holding the slack rode of the Bruce laying only 5 yards off. The rocks of the lee shore were yet visible in the waning light. The safety of my boat had been challenged… more than ever before.
Weather is always a part of sailing. For the mariner, surviving is the word of choice when recalling its extremes.
Part 2 - More Weather
Every cruiser has or will spend time waiting on weather. This has been a year with more than usual. After the evening storm our first night out, we lay at anchor the next day do to thunderstorm threats as the passage from Presque Isle Harbor through De Tour Passage is a long leg across open water. A few years previous on the same passage, lightning had struck so close to the boat. The passage was made without incident on our third day… though again with winds ahead, it required motoring. The fourth day we journeyed west to the Les Cheneaux Islands and arrived tired late in the evening and took anchorage within a sheltered bay near the east entrance.
The morning of our fifth day found us meandering thru the sheltered waters of the islands towards Hessel.
