Labor Day was a dreary, overcast early September day in the Twin Cities, but for The Consulting Mac, it was the beginning of a week-long adventure. Those of you who know me know I am an avid power-boater, and up until today have never spent so much as a moment aboard a sailboat in water. But today my sail boating career begins with a short airplane ride to Marquette, MI, where my friend, Dave Locey and his sailboat, Los Brisas, a new Benateau 41'er, met me to sail Lake Superior from Marquette, MI to Bayfield, WI.

The plane landed in Marquette and Dave was there at the airport. We jump in a car driven by a young man from the marina, and off we went to Dave's boat. When we arrived, the weather was threatening to get bad in the next few hours, and Dave opted to leave Marquette immediately. I went below to stow my gear while Dave starts the diesel engine, unties the boat, and pulls out of the harbor about 6:30 pm. In a few short minutes we're out past the breakwater and into the mild chop.

For the next couple of hours things go pretty well, but by nine o'clock or so, the seas are building up to 3 - 4 foot waves and the wind starts blowing pretty hard. It's dark now, and all we can see are the occasional lights on shore a couple of miles away. The wind is swinging around to the North and picking up speed. The Autohelm weather instruments are indicating 20 - 25 knots.

To take advantage of the winds, Dave decides to roll out some sails. For those of you, like me, who have never done this before, I'm here to tell you that sails make the boat float at funny angles... sometimes as much as 35 - 45 degrees. Everything becomes a chore, even sitting. You can't move around without doing great bodily damage to yourself. Because of the angle of the boat, you don't really sit... you brace yourself anyway you can and hope the next roller doesn't dislodge you too abruptly. The seas build to an estimated 5 - 6 feet by 11:00 pm and things were getting pretty exciting.

The worst part is the queasiness that was building in my stomach and throat as the boat moveed forward up over and then down the waves, while at the same time the wind is rocking the boat from side to side. About every seven or eight waves, the boat slid down hard to the left and then at the bottom was quickly smashed hard up to the right. The boat was getting thrashed about pretty good, and it all became too much for me. I had all the symptoms of seasickness, and without being quickly able to locate and identify the horizon or the shore, the symptoms got worse as time went by until my stomach couldn't handle it any longer.

Soon I'm below deck fighting the list of the boat while trying to climb into the forward bunk to lay down and get it together again. Ever try to keep from getting thrown out of bed? It's quite a feeling! I finally crawled in under the covers and put my gear bag on my feet to hold me down. Thankfully, I drift off into a light sleep which lasts until about 3:00 am.

Dave had piloted the boat into calmer waters now. I could tell by the substantially reduced pitching and rolling. It seemed almost perfectly smooth. Dragging myself out of the rack, I discovered why... Dave had docked and tied the boat up to a seawall about 1/2 mile from open water. We're in dock. What a relief! We both hit the sack again and Dave especially got some well earned rest.

Tuesday morning we woke up around 7 am. The sun was out and we survey our surroundings. We're tied to a seawall with a state park next to us. Behind us is the seawall leading out into the lake with a lighthouse at the end. It's really a pretty site and after a hardy breakfast, Dave and I walk out to the lighthouse. It marks the entrance to the canal which crosses the peninsula.

Around 8:30, we untie the boat and take off up the canal toward Houghton-Hancock, MI with yours truly at the helm. It's about 10 miles to town, and it's like driving up a river, something I'm more used to! The boat handles very well under power and the instruments Dave has on board are phenomenal. GPS, speed, wind speed, electronic compass, auto-pilot and depth sounder. It's an Autohelm setup, and all the instruments are on a common bus and talk to each other. The GPS can be used to set the course the auto-pilot follows, with the wheelman (me) just pushing buttons for 1 degree or 10 degree course changes. By noon we had motored into Houghton-Hancock and pulled into the marina where we gassed (dieseled?) up the boat and tied into a slip.

Great explorers that we are, Dave and I set out for Houghton. To get there we walked across the world's largest lift bridge which connects Houghton to Hancock. The two towns are located on either side of the canal. The lift bridge is large enough to raise over the top of Great Lakes freighters and ore carriers up to 880 feet in length. Now, when you're used to 30 - 40 foot sail and power boats, 880 feet is a pretty large boat!

We walked up and down the business area of Houghton, then found a lounge/restaurant and had some lunch. Afterwards, we walked back across the lift bridge and into Hancock. Houghton is pretty compact downtown, but Hancock is l-o-n-g. We walked about a mile uptown before turning around and heading back. The sightseeing was interesting and enjoyable, but when we finally got back to the boat later in the afternoon, it felt good to sit down for a few minutes. Soon, however, we were back on our feet, walking along the docks, visiting with other boaters and looking over their boats. One fellow had just come into the marina with a new (to him) 1995 43-foot Carver, and I spent some time visiting with him and climbing aboard to look over his new boat with him.

Dave and I decided to to up town to Houghton again for a movie and dinner. The movie was supposed to start at 7 pm, and we hustled up to the theater about 7:04, ran inside and told the ticket girl we wanted two tickets for Air Force One. She looked a little peculiarly at us and said the next show didn't start for an hour and a half... at 9:30 pm. Ugh! Dave and I were operating on Central Time, and Houghton (and the rest of the UP, as we were to discover) was on Eastern Time... It was actually 8:04 when we got to the theater!

So, we found a Mexican restaurant, Los Dos Amigos, and had dinner before the show. I wanted to see if the bookstore a few doors away carried any out-of-town newspapers, and after ordering, ran up to the store and picked up the only out-of-town newspaper they had... The Detroit FreePress. It wasn't much, but we at least found the weather forecast for the UP for the following day. That was about it for the Detroit paper...

After dinner, we went to the show and enjoyed Air Force One very much. We went back to the boat and turned in, tired from a long day.

Wednesday morning we left Houghton-Hancock early. Dave radioed to the lift bridge operator, and they raised the bridge enough that Dave's 60'+ mast would clear the bridge. We motored up the canal another ten miles past some beautiful homes on the water, and finally out into the lake again, passing a lighthouse at the end of the canal.

Our new destination was Ontonogon, MI. It was about 40 miles away. The sailing today was near-perfect. The water was calm and the winds were light. Dave experimented with different sail combinations to maximize our cruising speed, which varied between 4 and 6 knots most of the day. By around 2:30 we found the entrance to Ontonogon's harbor. A Corps of Engineers tug boat had pulled in a half hour ahead of us, and we spotted it further up the channel on our way to a small bridge. The bridge rotated and we slid past and soon entered the boat harbor in Ontonogon.

After securing the boat, we walked up town to explore. We were struck at the number of businesses in the town which had closed. Asking around at dinner, we discovered that the local copper mine, which was located about 10 miles out of town, had recently closed down to a skeleton operation, dropping employment from 2,000 to 200. The town also relied heavily on a papermill plant, which was still in operation. Clearly, the area was suffering hard times.

It got cold over night, and in the morning there was actually frost on parts of the docks. Our next leg of the trip was to go to Black River Falls. We left Ontonogon with the feeling we had been to a ghost town, and looked forward to getting out in the water again. The Corps of Engineers tug had already dragged a huge crane on a barge out to the end of the seawall where it was adding onto the length with some pretty big rocks.

To be continued!

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