Day 30: Port Sanilac to Port Austin

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September 8, 2021: Smooth water, rough water, peanut butter on a burger, and a lot of sleep.

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I woke early and spent some time sitting at the dining table with my laptop, working on the blog. I get a lot of work done early in the morning, before my shipmates awake. That morning, I finished the post for Day 26 and had it online before my morning coffee. I was catching up after my computer issues, slowly but surely.

We left Port Sanilac at around 7 AM. It was a beautiful morning with light wind, bright sun, and calm water on the lake. A few low, flimsy clouds reminded me that the forecast had included patchy fog until 8 AM; we didn’t encounter any at all.

It was a beautiful morning when we left the marina.

Smooth Cruising — for a While

Capt Paul was at the helm, as usual. He’d used the autopilot to plot a course that stayed pretty close to the shoreline, curving up and around the “thumb” of Michigan. Our destination, Port Austin, was just beyond the tip of the thumb.

The chart plotter started giving him trouble almost immediately. It kept losing access to GPS speed data that is normally delivered by the autopilot unit. Both seemed to be functioning fine otherwise. He reset each unit individually and then at the same time. The GPS signal would come and go. After about 20 to 30 minutes, the signal returned and the system continued to work properly for the rest of the day.

My hypothesis: all that heavy rain the night before had gotten some wires or connections wetter than they were accustomed to being. When they dried, everything was okay. But that’s just my guess.

The only other thing of interest happened about ninety minutes into our trip. We saw something white on the horizon, not far from land. For a while, we convinced ourselves that it was that back part of a cargo ship, which normally towers at least 10 stories above the water. We even seemed to see a front part of the structure and (I guess) imagined the low riding part of the boat between them. But then the illusion faded and we saw the white tower for what it was: the lighthouse outside of Harbor Beach.

The lighthouse at Harbor Beach, seen from a distance. From farther away, it really did look like the back end of one of those big cargo ships.

Capt Paul drove the boat — or babysat the autopilot — for two hours and then turned it over to me. By that time, however, I was very sleepy. I sat in the seat while Lake Huron tossed us around relatively gently, and found it difficult to keep my eyes open. I tried hard but had little success. Finally, I asked Dianne to take over. Paul was awake and stepped up into her seat while she took mine. I went down to my bunk, lay down, and immediately fell asleep.

A Wild Ride

I woke with a start. The regular up-down motion of the boat had changed, with lots of side-to-side rocking and the kind of nose up glides that always end with a nose down smash. It was as if they were trying to drive the boat through the wash cycle of an old-style tub washing machine.

I tried to get out of bed and take a look at what was going on, but I literally could not get to my feet. I saw that Capt Paul had taken the helm and heard him reduce power from our normal cruise RPM of 3200. I was able to see out the back was rewarded with a view of blue water, white caps, and sky, presented to me at all different angles. Whoa.

I lay back down in my bunk and focused on staying in it.

This went on for at least 30 minutes. During that time, Capt Paul reduced speed two more times. We had one downward crash that really made me admire the strength of Ranger Tug hulls. Dishes, food items, the coffee maker, and basically anything in the main cabin that wasn’t secured went flying.

Then I heard them taking about the channel. They apparently had the marina in sight but couldn’t find the entrance to the harbor. The harbors here are safe harbors that were created by building barrier walls around an area. This one had one main entrance; the south end had a lot of shallow water and wasn’t safe to cross. I could imagine it in my mind, but couldn’t consult the Aqua Maps chart.

Then, suddenly, Capt Paul made a sharp turn to the left. A few minutes later, the wild ride calmed. I was able to come out of the sleeping area and take a look around.

We were at the Port Austin marina. Behind us, Lake Huron was laughing.

I began the job of picking up everything that had fallen onto the floor.

Here’s the log for Day 30 of my trip. Where the line turns from red to green is where Capt Paul reduced speed and battled the rough water.

At Port Austin

We wanted to get fuel, but the fuel dock was deserted. Instead, we made our way to a slip where someone was waiting for us. Between the wind and the confusion I’m not clear on whether he actually worked at the marina.

We got Nano tied up as a couple came over, giddy with excitement at seeing us. Apparently they’d come in a short time before us on a large sailboat. The woman gave us the bathroom code and told us that we were the only people there. I left Dianne talking to them and went over to check out the bathroom.

When I returned, the couple were gone. Dianne suggested that we find the grocery store because, according to the woman she’d spoken to, all of the restaurants in town were closed. I found that hard to believe. I pulled out my phone, Googled restaurants in town, found one that should be open (according to Google), and called it. They were open and were just three blocks away.

That’s how we wound up at The Bank 1884, a converted bank building that had a lunch menu with salads, sandwiches, and burgers. It also had outside dining. We got a table outside that wasn’t too windy or sunny. I looked at the menu and saw the Ultimate Burger. Peanut butter on a hamburger? I had to try it. They each ordered French onion soup that looked really good and sandwiches. It was a good lunch.

The Bank 1884 occupies a former bank building built in — you guessed it — 1884.

After lunch, I stopped in at a few shops while they went grocery shopping. Before going back to Nano, I took a walk along the sea wall, which had to be at least a quarter mile long with two turns in it. I wasn’t the only nut; there were others atop the wall dodging the breakers, too. I walked all the way out to the end, where the channel and its markers were, and looked out at the dark colored lighthouse out in the lake. It was whitecaps as far as the eye could see. I was glad to be off the lake. I retraced my steps back to the beach, getting even wetter on the way back.

The beach at Port Austin. Sure, it looks calm in this photo, but it was rough out on the lake.

Sleeping the Afternoon (and Evening) Away

When I got back to Nano, I lay down for a nap.

And slept until 7:30 PM.

I dragged myself to consciousness, knowing that if I went to sleep then, I’d just be up at 1 AM. (And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from experienced on this trip it’s that it’s no fun being wide awake on Nano at 1 AM.) But I wasn’t up long before Capt Paul and Dianne put their jammies on and turned in for the night.

I sat at the table, trying hard to work on another blog post. But I just couldn’t stay focused. Finally, at about 9 PM, I gave up. I walked out to the bathroom, came back, killed the lights, put my pajamas on, and went to bed. I tried to read for a while, but couldn’t even do that. I fell dead asleep.