July 25, 2017

Going on the Great Loop is not for the feint of heart!  So, you might legitimately ask why and how am I doing this.  Simple:  My foolhardiness counter balances my feint heartedness, thus here I am.  We never know what is going to come up, or reach down, show up on our bow or stern, or our starboard or port.  We never know what is lurking in the engine rooms, or in the electric system, or in the toilet system, or in the anchoring system, or in the electronics, or in the autopilot.  (I know these are all out to get us!). It seems there is always something to worry about.  However, we have made it this far (Manitowoc, Wisconsin where we are AGAIN sitting out the weather), and it seems like a good time to put down some thoughts and reflections (in no particular order).

First and foremost, I have to say that I cannot think of anyone with whom I would rather do this trip than with Penny.  She has been positive (for the most part), enthusiastic (for the most part), and has done more than her fair share of the chores.  She is not only the Admiral, but she is also the strategic planner and navigator.  I could add some other attributes and acts Penny has demonstrated, but those are between Penny and me.  

I still get a thrill going into (for us) the unknown.  I always wonder as we leave a harbor and head out into a body of water that only meets the sky what that day will bring.  We have spent large segments of several days outside the sight of land.  It makes our boat seem small, slow and vulnerable.  Yes, I know this is not really a big deal, but it is to me.  (To paraphrase Neal Armstrong: “This is a small step for man, but a giant step for Jim Bailey.”). 

We have been surprised at how often weather has slowed us down.  Spending days waiting on good weather makes the boat feel isolated and small. Sitting in port certainly gives us time to read.  We both have done lots of reading.

We have had the great good fortune to have friends and family spend time on our boat.  These have been the best times on the trip regardless of the country through which we were traveling.  Penny and I both love to share experiences with family and friends. 

We just spent some considerable time in Canada.  I found Canada to be a wonderful place.  Without exception we found the people with whom we interacted to be friendly, helpful, generous and quietly and obviously proud of their country.  The care Canadians take of their environment is remarkable.  I had the opportunity of talking with several men working on replacing a pier one rainy morning.  They hunted and fished and generally enjoyed their part of the country.  They expressed their support of keeping their environment healthy for the generations who follow.  They were serious about keeping their water and water ways clean and healthy.  (In all the time cruising Canadian waters, Penny and I saw only ONE styrofoam cup floating in the water.  We saw no plastic bags or other human refuse.  Even along the shorelines and along the docks we found no trash.)  These men were all for regulations that protect their environment.  We were fortunate enough to be in Canada on “Canada Day”, their Fourth of July.  Everywhere we looked were Canadian flags and red decorations.  To a person, they were celebrating their pride in their country.  What was especially noticeable to me was the absence of what I call “cry baby” flags (i.e. stars and bars, and don’t tread on me).  Our A/C water pump quit working while in Parry Sound.  After some asking around I found a man who worked on auto and boat electric systems (among other things).  His father is American and mother Canadian.  He spent about half his life in each country and chose to live, work, and raise his family in Canada.  Why? Among other reasons, he stated that Canadians are not angry.  I thought that to be a good observation.  The Canadians hired young people to work at the locks during the summer.  It is obvious they care about their children and the future.

Some thoughts about our boat:  We have now lived on our boat since March 1, and have observed a great many boats and have been invited aboard a good number of other boats.  We have been on a large catamaran, large and small trawlers and cruisers.  Most of these boats have been more luxurious and more classically “nautical” than ours.  I have yet to meet a boat I’d rather take on this journey.  Now, there are a great many boats I’d trade this one for, but only because of the price of the other boat.  Our boat has proven (And right now I’m knocking on wood because every time I’m positive about anything mechanical, it turns around and bites me.) to be comfortable, maneuverable, safe, affordable (as much as a boat can be), practical, and (so far) dependable.  When going through locks (so far about 80), we have enough flat deck space to walk around as needed.  We don’t have to lean out the pilot house or balance our way around the cabin, or walk a sloping deck to the bow.  I know we are going the sell the boat at the end of our journey. It only makes good sense.  But I’m afraid I’m starting to feel an affinity for this boat.  (Damn!)  I am convinced that we chose wisely.  (I would love to have bow and stern thrusters!)

So, would I do this again?  No.  Only because of my stage of life.  There are too many experiences out there and very little time.  If I were younger, who knows.   

Good bye Door County

Manatowac Light house, home for a while