Day 34: Harrisville to Alpena

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September 12, 2021: Smooth cruising on a calm lake — before a different kind of storm.

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We were on track for a typically early departure from Harrisville until we checked the oil. I held open the hatch while Capt Paul climbed in. I immediately noticed two things: a weird electrical smell and a lot of water in the bilge. Like maybe a foot of it.

“That’s a lot of water, isn’t it?” I asked.

Capt Paul looked. “Yes.”

He checked the oil, which had been going down a teeny tiny bit every day but never enough to add any, and replaced the dipstick. Then he used his light to check the level of the black water tank, which was at about half or maybe a bit more. Then he focused on the bilge situation.

Bilge Pump Issues

The water was remarkably clean but there was definitely enough in there to kick on the bilge pump. Why hadn’t it gone on?

(The question on how so much water had gotten in there was easily answered. The previous day on the lake, in rough water, water had been splashing into the cockpit. Although it’s supposed to drain through the floor into special drain holes, it’s not a surprise that some of it got into the bilge.)

The next hour or so was filled with troubleshooting. The pump functioned — it went on when Dianne turned it on — but it wouldn’t stay on. The circuit breaker kept turning it off. The other bilge pump — the one that’s supposed to go on when the water gets really deep down there — ran but because it pumped water at a different level, it really didn’t clear the water out.

“Are you sure you got the right switch?” I asked when I saw nothing was happening. No answer. I repeated my question.

“Do you want to check it?” Dianne replied.

“No, smartass,” I said.

By that time, Capt Paul had it narrowed down to three possibilities: faulty switch, faulty pump, or clogged back flow preventer.

It was this last thing he decided to investigate first. He got a screwdriver and then lay down with his stomach on top of the engine so he could reach the back flow preventer. Then he managed to loosen the screws that hold the two halves of the device together. He had Dianne turn on the pump and it ran, spraying water inside the engine compartment just as you’d expect. The pump, however, did not turn off, which indicated that it wasn’t a pump problem.

He got back in there and tightened everything up. Dianne put the pump back on and it ran continuously, sucking the water out of the bilge. But where we’d expected it to automatically stop when there was no more water left to suck, it didn’t. It had to be switched off. A few weeks before, when we’d manually run the pump like that it had turned itself off. So although it got the water out of the bilge, I’m not convinced that it’s working 100% right. It would be something to keep an eye on.

With that resolved satisfactorily and the oil checked, we cast off and started our trip.

Our Course

We were going to Alpena that day. Capt Paul had chosen it a few days before because he needed to refill some prescriptions and they had a Walgreens. The idea was to get there early, get the prescriptions (which had already been called in and were waiting), and possibly get out and keep going, perhaps as far as Rogers City. But we’d already lost an hour troubleshooting the bilge issue, so continuing on was looking iffy.

Capt Paul used the chart plotter to automatically give us a course from Harrisville, around the coast, and into Thunder Bay and Alpena. The automatic course came a little too close to shore and shallower water than he wanted, so he made some course adjustments before we started and once we were underway. You can see some of these adjustments on the Nebo Log below.

I sat up front in the watch seat while Capt Paul drove. I periodically checked the Nebo app to see where all the other Loopers from Harrisville were. Safe Haven left about 30 minutes before we did and we never caught up; he was all the way up by Mackinaw Island by the end of the day. Conflict of Interest and Northern Lights came out about a half hour after us; I saw them docked up at Rogers City later in the day.

It was pretty clear why the others weren’t stopping at Alpena. Although it’s supposed to be the second largest city on Michigan’s lower peninsula (which I was told but haven’t verified), just getting through Thunder Bay and into the marina takes you at least an hour out of your way. Then, when you leave, you have to come back out of the bay and go around a handful of islands and shoal areas that are famous for shipwrecks. That’ll take at least 2 hours. So if a Looper doesn’t have a real good reason to visit Alpena, she probably won’t.

Anyway, we chugged along at 11 to 12 knots in relatively smooth water, making course adjustments as the Capt thought was necessary. We saw a handful of other boats either fishing or in transit along the way. It was a pleasant day for motoring on the lake, and I wasn’t opposed to moving on while it was like this.

Capt Paul’s course ended at the channel into the Thunder Bay River. By that time, I’d already spotted the red buoys and then the green buoys into the channel — the red ones are always easier for me to spot — and he steered into the channel. We passed the tiny Alpena Light House at the mouth of the river. A tour boat was coming down the river right when we were ready to turn into the marina so we waited for him to pass.

We made our way to the fuel dock and backed into a slip within reach of the hoses. We took on about 25 gallons of fuel — it had been a short ride. Then we got a slip assignment, motored over there, and tied up.

We had arrived.

Here’s the Nebo boating app log for Day 34 of our trip.

An Excellent Lunch and a Transportation Disappointment

While I was in the restroom, Capt Paul and Dianne had gotten a lunch recommendation: Fresh Palate. It was just a few blocks away. We set off on foot up River Street, which was obviously not the main street because there were very few businesses there. At Second Avenue, we finally found a business area.

Paul stopped. “I think it’s down here,” he said, pointing left down Second.

“No,” Dianne said. “She said to go up this street and it’s on the left.”

She was stubborn, as usual, and could not be convinced. (I immediately recalled the time she tried to take us in the opposite direction of a restaurant we were trying to find in Lockport. And there had been at least two other map-related incidents.)

I looked at Google Maps and Paul was right. We started walking down Second Avenue and I immediately saw the sign and tables a half block away. We continued walking, leaving Dianne behind. Neither of us said a word, but I suspect we were both thinking the same thing: she’d eventually figure it out.

We were seated at an outdoor table when she joined us without a word.

Fresh Palate was serving brunch, but, thankfully, not the buffet style kind. Their menu had a lot of egg dishes with interesting combinations of ingredients. I had a breakfast burrito with eggs, potatoes, Brussels sprouts, bacon, and cheese. It was excellent. Capt Paul and Dianne also seemed to like their breakfasts.

During the meal, they worked on getting transportation to the Walgreens, which was 1.7 miles away. Dianne was interested in going along, too, because there was a Walmart nearby. But the Taxi card they’d gotten from the dock master, which was for the only taxi in town, was closed on Sundays. And although Capt Paul didn’t mind walking to Walgreens, walking both ways was a bit too much for him. Dianne wasn’t interested in walking either way. I just didn’t want to go — I really don’t like Walmart.

So the decision on whether to continue to Rogers City that day was made for us. Once again, the lack of ground transportation screwed up our plans. Having a bicycle on board would have really made a difference — this is the one lesson I learned again and again throughout this trip. We had to wait until Monday for the Walgreens/Walmart visit.

Shopping, Napping, and Wine Tasting

After breakfast, I told them I wanted to walk around town for a while and would meet them back at the boat. I spent about an hour visiting various shops, still trying to buy thank you gifts for my house sitter and dog sitter. I was almost done with that shopping and now I was looking for things for me.

You can find this colorful 3D mural on the side of a building in downtown Alpena.

Back at the boat, neither Capt Paul nor Dianne were around. I read for a while, then settled down in my bunk for a nap, setting my alarm for 3 PM so I’d have time to go for a wine tasting at Thunder Bay Winery’s tasting room in town.

I woke to the sound of Capt Paul watching a video on YouTube about how to open a stuck motor lock. After more than a month on the water, he’d decided to inflate the boat’s dinghy and take it for a ride up the river. The motor, part of which was locked to a rail on the swimming platform, wouldn’t open. I told him I was off to do a wine tasting and would be back in a little while.

The tasting room was right next to Fresh Palate. There was no one else in there — just a young woman who was pretty new to her job but obviously eager to learn. I tasted 6 wines for $6 and I have to say that I wasn’t terribly impressed. One of them had an excellent nose but was basically undrinkable to me, two others were just not very good at all. I did like the local favorite, however, and two others. I thought they might make interesting gifts for my house sitter.

Unfortunately, they did not sell the local favorite by the bottle there. Instead, I had to walk about half a mile to the “party store” (AKA liquor store) where they did sell it. I bought the other wine I wanted and started the walk. I soon realized that I should have left my purchases at the tasting room, which I had to pass on the way back. Instead, I carried 2 bottles a half a mile and six bottles a half mile back. And then another quarter mile to the boat. In shopping bags. Needless to say, my hands were pretty sore when I got back to Nano. Shows my dedication to wine, I guess.

A Short Boat Ride in a Tiny Boat

When I got back, the dinghy was all assembled. It was tiny. The three of us would never have fit in it. That was okay, since Dianne didn’t want to go. Capt Paul took it for a test drive around the marina and then came back to the dock to pick me up. (I wish I had a photo, but I don’t.) The two of us sat a little more than halfway back on the inflated sides and started our journey out of the marina and up the river.

The boat’s motor was electric and pretty quiet. It also seemed to max out at less than 3.5 mph. We went up the river and under the drawbridge, which they didn’t need to lift for us. (I doubt there was anyone in the building anyway.) The water was smooth and the ride was easy. But we didn’t even get as far as the next bridge when the power level was down to 68% and it was time to turn around.

There sure is a lot to explore up the Thunder Bay River, but we didn’t get anywhere near it.

I was disappointed with the short ride, but it turned out to be a good thing. It started drizzling right before we got back to the marina and was raining pretty good by the time Capt Paul set up the boat so I could disembark on the dock. We tied it up and he brought the battery motor inside to recharge it.

A Restful Evening — for a While

Back at the boat, Dianne was in bed. Napping, I guess. I took out my laptop and wrote up the Day 33 blog post. Capt Paul had some leftovers and I made myself a snack of leftover canned dolmas and almond butter on wheat crackers. Then both Capt Paul and I settled down at the table to read.

It was just starting to get dark when Dianne woke up and came out. She used the bathroom, then opened the fridge. She pulled one of the two half-gallon containers of milk, which had very little milk left in it, and said, “Who the hell put this away with this much milk in it?” She slammed it down by the sink.

“Don’t throw it away,” I said. “There’s enough for my coffee.”

“I’m not going to throw it away,” she fairly screamed at me. “I’m going to use it.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” I observed.

“And stop yelling at me,” she yelled at me.

I hadn’t yelled. “Again,” I added.

By this time, Capt Paul had taken notice. I later learned that he missed the first salvo in the exchange, but I hoped he’d noticed that I hadn’t been doing the yelling.

Dianne proceeded to make herself a bowl of the sickly sweet granola she’d bought back in Detroit, slamming the bowl, silverware, milk carton, box of cereal — basically anything slammable — onto the counter as she worked. Capt Paul offered her his seat and she said no, she’d go outside. And then she left us, throwing a minor fit when she saw my shower bag sitting on the bench where she wanted to sit. (For the record, the only reason the bag was out there was so that I could leave more quietly in the morning — and not wake her up — when went to take my shower.)

I said quietly to Capt Paul, “I can’t take much more of this.”

Okay, now here’s the dirty secret I’ve been keeping pretty much to myself for the past 30+ blog posts: Dianne and I do not get along. At all. The situation started getting bad about a week into the trip, got worse, came to a head with a fight, mellowed out when I took avoidance steps to minimize contact with her, and started rearing its ugly head again over the past week. She’d switched from actively mouthing off to me — likely because it seldom got a rise out of me — to becoming a Drama Queen. Just the day before, when getting out bed last (as usual) and finding both seats at the table full, she went into banging mode so obvious that Capt Paul asked her if there was a problem. “I just feel like I’m in the way,” she announced. When he offered her his seat, she declined and took her drama routine outside onto the cockpit. She was constantly slamming the back door or bathroom door — if it had been my boat, I would have given her just one warning about that crap before kicking her ass out. But Paul was extremely tolerant — or perhaps he was a lot better at ignoring her antics than I was.

I don’t think I would have minded so much if she wasn’t so nearly useless on the boat. Because of her physical condition — she’s morbidly obese and easily winded — she can’t get out on the gunwales while underway to move to the bow of the boat for handling ropes and fenders for locking/docking. That meant I did it all of the time — and I can tell you it isn’t fun standing out there in the rain waiting for a lock to fill and the gates to open. She sometimes forgets to drop the fenders when we dock. At the watch position, when Capt Paul is trying to find a buoy or marker for a channel, she simply can’t see it — more times than not, she’s fiddling with Google Maps on her phone, trying to use that as a resource for navigation. I have seen her use binoculars inside a marina to find a fuel dock that’s sometimes only 50 or 100 feet away. Yet if I try to step in and help point something out, she jumps down my throat — so I don’t.

Anyway, I was sick of Dianne. Her newly expanded Drama Queen routine was a perfect example how immature and insecure she was. 63 years old! Seriously?

Back to Day 34.

Capt Paul didn’t reply to my comment. Maybe he didn’t hear me. I said it pretty softly.

We went back to reading.

Dianne came back in a while later, made a big show of washing her plate and spoon, and went back to bed. She was still awake in there, watching TV on her tablet, when I turned in more than an hour later.

It was only when her snoring started that I knew she was asleep.