Blueberry Days in Georgian Bays

My persistent memory from the Northern Channel will be blue-colored. At most locales, the islands were spotted with carpets of wild blueberry bushes. We arrived at the peak of the season. It was heaven to sit on the moss, in the shade, and pick off the tiny, sweet blueberries. You know how it goes: some in the basket and some to taste! We mostly enjoyed them as blueberry smoothies and we had one lazy morning with blueberry pancakes.

 

THE NORTH CHANNEL OF GEORGIAN BAY

New Englanders, Great Lakers, and Canadian boaters we met along the Erie Canal and 1000 Islands always asked us: “Are you going to the North Channel in Georgian Bay?” After we answered, “yes,” they eagerly shared, “Let me tell you about some great anchor spots I’ve been going to for years…”. We had to narrow the number of bays to try.

After we finished our week in the greater Parry Sound area in East-Central Georgian Bay with our neighbors onboard, we continued towards the North Channel of Georgian Bay. See our route in red below.

I read that some people call Georgian Bay the sixth Great Lake because it's so vast. It's actually part of Lake Huron. The Northern part is about 150 miles wide so it's quite a stretch for weekenders. We saw markedly fewer boaters. And, there were fewer cottages. Stretching across the 150 miles were only a handful of marinas in micro-sized towns. 

We were told that people only visit the cottages during the summer. During Winter and much of Spring, these waters ice in. A trickle of recreators who drove to the area used snowmobiles to wiz around. Another consequence of being remote with limited seasons was few hiking trails. 

Most of the Loopers we were buddy-boating with at this point liked to anchor. Consequently, it was fun to enjoy all these anchorages with our new friends. We anchored a week, then came to town a night to fill up our fresh water tanks and get a pump out. Then we repeated it for another week. It was late July and early August, and the weather and water temperature made conditions just right for swimming. Some days were decidedly humid which would break with a breeze and then rain. 

CROKER ISLAND

At a few small coves we could only anchor if we also tied our stern to shore, so we wouldn’t swing into other boats. In this photo, Mike took our orange stern line to shore, wrapped it around a tree and was returning to the boat. I was at the helm making sure Sacagawea didn’t rotate and kept tension on the anchor. 

From Parry Sound, after a long day of cruising North-Northwest, we arrived at the first of many remote anchorages: the Bustard Islands. There, similar to all the anchorages, we were not alone. Other powerboaters and sailors were enjoying the clear, freshwater, pine-scented air. 

At the Bustard Islands we shared an impromptu bonfire with some Ontarians while watching a yellow sun set. 

DINGHY RUNS

Another unique pastime in the Northern Channel was at our next stop: Bad River anchorage. Along the anchorage were a series of finger-like rivers that were too shallow and narrow for motor boats, but perfect for exploration via dinghy. 

At a few of these narrow long fingers were two to three-foot-high chutes/waterfalls. These comprised a series of what can only be called "dinghy runs." Our Looper friends were there the day before and were lucky enough to have a local guide them through a long run up, avoiding chutes, and then downhill another route through a maze of chutes. Unfortunately, we couldn't find the local or figure it out ourselves. In any case, we still had fun going through the calmer part of the maze via dinghy.(1)

Here we got as far as we dared in our dinghy and then began to float down among mini whirlpools:

COLLINS INLET AND BAIE FINE

After Bad River, we continued West. We chose a relatively short inside passage called Collins Inlet. The North Channel was fifteen miles long (North to South) so there was ample opportunity to grow nasty fetch. We went through Collin's Inlet and avoided wave-ridden open water. 

In quiet and naturally straight Collins Inlet. We were all alone during this short and rainy cruise. Wet rock walls were tall, colorful and lovely. 

One of the most remarkable bays we stopped in was Baie Fine. It's eleven miles long and a half mile wide. It ends with a jog like a hockey stick at a cove called The Pool. Our anchorage in The Pool was surrounded by green hills, water-lily-topped shores, and mirror-like water. What made this cove different was a pleasant hike via a marked trail through a shallow stream, gently uphill, to Lake Topaz. Yes, Lake Topaz was a beautiful blue. The surrounding boulders and fir trees reminded us of Yosemite.(2) 

Here, the bright green birch and fir forest as we hiked up to Topaz Lake. Wowza. The video below is Lake Topaz. 

Our friends snapped this as we picked up anchor and left The Pool early in the morning. Notice rising mist in the left background. Mirror-like water. 

HOSPITABLE HOTHAM ISLAND

Another memorable experience was when we nestled into a cove at Hotham Island. It was known for two Americans who hosted a happy hour at their cottage dock each day. They tooled around in their dinghy from boat to boat in the cove and invited everyone to their deck. Then they introduced everyone, answered questions and we got to know each other.

The hosts took this pic as we dinghied into their dock at Hotham Cove. 

Here was the view from the deck. Our host told us, "We would rather look at friend's boats from our deck than stranger's boats. That's why we do this." Too cool.

BACK TO CIVILIZATION

We knew that it was time to call it quits in the Northern Channel when we were in yet another cove, and spent yet another lazy afternoon floating around in our inner tubes, examining beaver homes and lily pads.

I was getting too used to this! Time to paddle the inner tube back and plan the cruise South back to civilization. 

We took off to a small town called Thessalon to fill our water tanks and have a pump out. All said and done, that was our Northernmost point on The Loop.(3)

We re-entered into the U.S.(4) at quiet Lime Island in Northern Michigan. There, we had a great day with a buddy boat, sharing dinner and a bonfire on shore. 

Our arrival back to civilization was at Mackinac Island. We heard conflicting advice about whether to visit it or not. On the one hand, we heard about great bicycling. On the other, we heard it smelled like horse poop (?!) and was just another fudge/ice cream/T-shirt town. We chose to go for bicycling and ultimately appreciated it for much more. 

First, we had to traverse South for ten miles in the protected water that splits the U.S. (Michigan) and Canada. Then, we had to cross for thirty-five miles in the open water of Lake Ontario to make landfall at Mackinac Island. We liked the less-than-2-foot wave predictions and made our move.  

Per usual, I didn't do much research about our next destination. It so happens that there has been a car ban on Mackinac Island since 1898! Visitors walk and use bicycles to get around. Locals use horse-drawn wagons to carry heavy and bulky items like garbage or supplies. We saw locals with electric bikes as well. This made for a unique culture. There was an abundance of horse-drawn carriages for island tours. Thus the horse poop. But, we didn't find the odor distracting. And, we easily avoided the fudge and T-shirt shops--except for the time Mike purchased a clean and bright white T-shirt.

Mike’s drone shot shows the clear water at the Mackinac Island marina. On land, people were walking or riding bikes. On the left was the two-square-blocks of stores and restaurants. In the top left was the notable Grand Hotel.

Clop, clop, clop is a soothing sound that doesn’t grow old:

There was an eight-mile, flat, paved road that circumnavigated Mackinac Island at the beach. The ease and joy of this bike ride was worth the stop. Here we stopped to just enjoy the shades of blue.

Mike surprised me when he asked if I wanted to do a guided horse ride after biking. So we switched from our bikes to a horse. I have little horse-riding experience, so I'd say I tolerated it with controlled terror. For me, it was scarier than cruising the open waters of Lake Ontario! We push ourselves to try new things and then move on, don't we?

NEXT LEG: LAKE MICHIGAN

We had been collecting intelligence on how to traverse down Lake Michigan. It's a mighty big lake with plenty of cautionary tales and sad songs. Should we traverse the Wisconsin side or the Michigan side? What online resources do locals use to predict the waves? Warm and talkative locals helped us with these types of questions and more. 

We pushed off from Mackinac Island, heading West for a long day to Petoskey, MI. We were impressed by our first milestone, the Mackinac Bridge. We were surprised that this bridge looked so much like the vermillion colored Golden Gate Bridge that guards San Francisco Bay. The uprights were white and the bridge was green, but it otherwise resembled the bridge we knew. 

Mackinac Bridge from a mile away. We could have sworn it was a sibling of the Golden Gate Bridge. 

…and as we floated underneath the Mackinac Bridge high above us. This is the meeting point for Lake Huron and Lake Michigan. It was the beginning of our next leg: Lake Michigan.

FOOTNOTES FOR FUN FACT FANS

(1) We learned that on the same day we explored via dinghy, one of the eighty-year-old "boys" in a nearby boat attempted to run one of the little cataracts. Apparently he had been doing this for years. He turtled his dinghy! He fell out and dunked his little motor. When we saw him, he and some buddies were trying to revive his dinghy engine. We heard his wife was none too happy about his misadventure. 

(2) DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE SNAKE STORIES.

As we departed our boats in our dinghies for the hike, our Looper friends were caught by surprise. We heard them shriek. There was a snake wrapped around their dinghy motor.  He told us he scrambled out of the dinghy and got a boat hook. He was able to safely unhook the snake using the boat hook. Off it swam. 

Later, when we arrived at Lake Topaz's edge, we were surprised to see two more snakes slithering along the shore. The snakes easily swam to a hiding place to avoid us.

This garden of Eden had snakes, eh?   

One of the snakes that scurried away as we approached. 

(3) Latitude at our Northernmost point: 46.257 N. To compare, the Ballard Locks in Seattle, WA is at 47.666 N. One degree (46 to 47) of latitude is about 70 miles.  

(4) It was a simple process for boaters like us to return. We populated some information into a government app. Then it gives us a clearance number. That was it. The border agent could have told us to report to a nearby Border Control facility during the call, but they did not. It may help that we cross back and forth each year for the last twenty years.

BONUS PHOTOS

Our little hike to Topaz Lake from The Pool was accented by mushrooms. I don’t recall seeing any of these before. I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of spotting mushrooms. Maybe it’s a worthy retirement hobby in my future?

Black trumpet mushroom???

I have no idea what this is called. It looked like a wet egg, over easy!

After a quick search, I think these are wildflowers—not mushrooms. Indian Pipe flowers? 

Trent Severn Waterway - Finally

One of the narrow and shallow through ways on the Northern end of the Trent Severn Waterway. 

We had been anticipating the Trent Severn Waterway for years. This was on of the Looper legs that Mike researched the most. It’s well-known among Loopers and people in the area for its scenic, rural waterways and three unusual lifts. 

Here’s our route from June 30 - July 11. My Nebo app skipped a few legs, so you’ll have to imagine some squiggly lines connecting the whole route. It’s a winding route—that’s for sure. We wound through dredged canals and (mostly) narrow lakes.

LOWER TRENT SEVERN WATERWAY

Our start to the Trent Severn Waterway(1) was at Quinte West, Ontario, at the Trent Port Marina. We were a bit surprised that twenty-one other Looper boats were bootle-necked there as well. Almost all planned to stay there through the Canada Day long weekend.(2) In addition to an air show, there were many reasons to linger. The dock was well-kept, the washers and dryers were free, there was a bank of sparkling clean, private shower rooms, and the local Harbor Host(3) organized happy hours and encouraged camaraderie.  

We decided to forego the festivities and push on before the crowd of Loopers took off. We had a deadline: our wonderful neighbors at Decourcy Island, Kathy and Dave Yardley, were coming to visit a week away. (It turns out it was too cloudy for the planned air show, so ultimately, we didn't miss much.)

So, on Saturday morning, as we filled the fuel tank and had a pump out, our anticipation ran high. 

Here we approach the arched bridge sign announcing the scenic Trent Severn Waterway. The helpful Harbor Host emailed this to us.

Much like the Erie Canal, we didn't know where we'd end that night. We didn't know how long it would take to go through locks and how often we'd have to motor at no-wake speed.(4) Less than a mile up the waterway, there was a waste dump off to starboard! That's certainly not what we were expecting. We had faith it would get better. 

We found the Trent Severn locks in the Southernly portion to be more intimate than the Erie Canal locks. They held about two Looper boats each. We noticed many of the lockkeepers were college students who seemed to be paired with a more experienced lockkeeper. 

Here’s a pic I downloaded from the Internet. At nearly all the locks, the cheerful, uniform-wearing  lockkeepers manually opened and closed the lock doors by pushing these metal levers round and round. We did so little work compared to them.  

We rekindled the routine we set during the Erie and Oswego Canals. After I did my part and tied up the stern line followed by the bow line onto cables hanging on the wall, I would sit at the bow to watch my line, and the mind-numbing walls, as the lock filled with water, raising us to the next leg of the waterway. Mike did his part by shutting off the engines and descending from the flybridge to watch the stern line. 

In lock after lock, Mike's patience in answering the same questions over and over impressed me.(5) Like Mike, the locals and lockkeepers were warm and talkative. They were also helpful. They would notify their kindred ahead of our timing and tell us if lock walls(6) were full or available for the night. It seems like each lockkeeper encouraged us to visit ”my favorite ice cream store just up in the next town." 

The locks were cheery with brightly planted flower boxes and fresh-looking paint. Many were surrounded by green lawns and picnic benches. Some locks seemed like a central gathering place in the small communities. In fact, many locks split lively towns in two. When the lock gates were closed, pedestrians walked back and forth across these narrow, temporary bridges.  

This lower part of the Trent Severn Waterway reminded us of the Erie Canal. It was lush, green, and often rural. How it differed was at the points where the dredged canal became a wider river. Some spots could almost be confused with Florida's Intracoastal Waterway with marshes and low-lying land. 

As we moved predominately Northwest, we saw many modest homes and RV camps among the fir trees (white pines). In turn, after turn, we saw happy, family-friendly scenes. Children, standing in knee-deep water would turn as we passed and pump out the "honk your horn" sign. Their little fists rose in the air and pulled down an imaginary train whistle. We obliged, where it made sense, just to see them cheer and clap. All was good in the world. 

A consistent sight: bright red and orange Adirondack chairs populated most docks and porches in front of beautiful cottages like this one. Can you see the funny extra large Adirondack chair here on the right? I think they won the chair-on-the-deck contest.

This was a holiday week for Canadians. The hamlets and islets were full of lake boaters and revelers. We saw every possible way people enjoy calm, fresh lake water: slides, diving boards, rope swings, jumpy platforms, and floating platforms. We saw old-school water skiers, giggling kids being pulled by wake boats and slews of personal watercraft (e.g. Sea-dos). There was a general friendly, unpretentious vibe along this waterway. 

Another cottage with kayaks, Sea-Dos and play toys.

A huge water trampoline waited for jumping kids in front of this huge waterfront yard.

Our favorite innovation was a floating deck with a large hole in the center. A lowered table covered the hole. People sat across from one another with their feet dangling in the water! As I cut/pasted this I noticed that the guy on the left was waving to us. A belated “hi” backatcha!

I mentioned earlier that there were three unusual locks. Two of them were hydraulic lift locks like the one we approached in this picture. We realized as we arrived that the reason for this type of “elevator up!” lift was because it was a huge leap to the next waterway—fifty feet high. You can see ahead of us a canoe filled with elementary school kids at a day camp. We shared the lock ride with them. I think the thrill was lost by the kids—but the leaders seemed to enjoy it. 

Here was my view of the lock after we snuggled in. Very high, intimidating wall. It turned out to be one of the fastest lock raises we experienced. 

UPPER TRENT SEVERN WATERWAY

As we approached the top end of the Trent Severn Waterway, shallow waters, reminiscent of the ICW in North Carolina, increased our anxiety. We had heard and read of other Loopers just a day or two ahead of us hitting rocks or logs and needing new propellers. Mike was tired of yet another dangerously shallow area and so he devised a clever alternative: we would turn off the engines and push the boat with our dinghy. This way, if our boat hit bottom at the propellers, they would not be turning and minimize damage. So we did this for a few miles. It worked well and we did not hit bottom. I got to see the pretty shore at water level! 

Here’s one of the shallow waterways that followed a lock. Notice it was too narrow for two boats to pass! Before entering, boats announced they are transiting to prevent others from entering on the opposite end. 

Around the time we hit Lock 40 we heard that a swinging railroad bridge before Lock 44 broke. There was no dependable estimate of when the rail company would be able to fix it! The lockkeeper advised us to stay at Port of Orillia, the closest marina before the breakdown. Unfortunately, we had to inform our upcoming guests that we were behind schedule--and we didn't know when we'd be able to pass through the bridge. 

Day after day we Loopers shared rumors about what we learned about the progress of fixing the bridge. Luckily, there was a great grocery store just across the street, restaurants nearby, and the marina was yet another well-maintained facility with free laundry and spiffy showers. We also made new Looper friends and learned a new card game: Hand and Foot. 

Orillia was a good place to endure the remnants of Hurricane Beryl as well. The sky opened and a lot of rain fell while we were in Orillia. The biggest challenge this created was dashing to and from the free laundromat with clean, dry laundry! 

After five days, the Trent Severn Waterway Facebook page announced the bridge was fixed! We got up quite early the next morning to beat the dozen or so fellow Loopers at Port of Orillia. As we passed the workers at the swinging bridge, we Loopers did happy dance celebrations. We waved and yelled our thanks.

Later that day we arranged to meet Kathy and Dave at the second to last, and most famous, lock on the Trent Severn Waterway. Lock 44 "Big Chute," which was the railway lock. Even after reading directions and looking at YouTube videos, we weren't sure what to expect and what we needed to do. 

Like most confusing events in life, we showed up, and when our turn came, we went forward. On command, we turned over operations to a lockkeeper crew on the haulout-on-rails, stayed on the boat, and carefully watched the procedure. They placed us in a sling--just like the slings boat haulout operations use. Here, they even used an underwater camera that would ensure they would not pinch or hit our precious stabilizers. 

As the platform raised us out of the water, we felt that Sacagawea's weight was partially on her keel and saw her stern perched way off the platform. The senior lockkeeper assured us that it was all standard procedure. A Looper friend captured this moment for us here.

For a few tense minutes, we moved ever-so-slowly along the rails, over a two-lane road, and gently placed bow-first back into the water on the other side. Mike piloted us over to a concrete side to tie up. It seemed we survived without a scratch.

In short order, we were pleased to find Kathy and Dave at this meeting point and loaded their belongings on board. It was great to see familiar faces.

REFLECTION ON THE TRENT SEVERN WATERWAY

We knew Kathy and Dave would be great passengers because they were world-class sailors. Even though we had just one more lock on the Trent Severn, they grabbed lines without missing a beat.(7) 

Exiting the Trent Severn Waterway was like releasing a breath. Once again, we could navigate in any direction and not stick to a dredged channel!

I'd say the Trent Severn Waterway delivered as promised. It was a lovely and cheerful cruise. There were lots of cabins to admire. The narrow lakes we went through were cute with small islets, fresh-smelling pine trees, and green waters. The lockkeepers were professional and smoothed the way for us. The waterway was certainly a Canadian treasure. 

We also thought much of it reminded us of the best of the Erie Canal, as I mentioned above. Similarly, we appreciated the many free concrete walls to tie up each night and lots of Loopers to meet there. However, we were not prepared to endure nail-biting for many miles of treacherous skinny water. 

See video here of one of the narrow, “skinny” waterways. Note the depth sounder reads “2.5 feet.” That’s the space between our boat bottom and the canal bottom. We started to consider that a good depth! You can see Mike looking back and forth between the road ahead and a secondary depth reading on an instrument to his right.

PARRY SOUND AT GEORGIAN BAY

We stopped first to provision in a nice little town in the Southernmost part of the Georgian Bay, Midland. The next morning with the fridge full, and a refreshing pump out, we were off to anchorages to be discovered! 

It was a great crew and day to celebrate my birthday! They brought me chocolate cake, which was decadent and just what I needed. 

There are perhaps hundreds of anchorages along Georgian Bay. Locals call it the 30,000 Islands (a play, perhaps, on the 1,000 Islands area we recently putzed around in). We gunkholed with Kathy and Dave for a few days around Parry Sound, an afternoon’s cruise North from the Severn exit. 

One of my favorite sights was an American Beaver! This was a first for me. As it climbed briefly out of the water we noticed its glistening, black pelt and basketball-type roundness. It was much larger—like a large dog—than I expected. We soon were seeing beaver dens in every cove. But we didn’t see a beaver out of water like that since.  

Too soon (because we had a shorter time together than planned) we had to return Kathy and Dave back to their life on land. We couldn’t help ourselves; we four often compared this part of Georgian Bay to the Gulf Islands in British Columbia. It sounded like Kathy and Dave plan to return to do their own boating. 

We did a hike here through Killbear Provincial Park. I think this photo deserved an extra large size. It was not posed! Notice the famous (?) white pines next to Kathy that always sweep to the East.

Modern art? Or ancient rock that look like art? All the rocks were still pink and green in this region. I learned they are part of the Niagara Escarpment. 

FOOTNOTES FOR FUN FACT FANS

(1) This link has an its own link on the lower right side to a cool Google Earth tour of the Trent Severn Waterway. If you have used Google Earth before, you may want to try it. 

(2) Canada Day, according to Wikipedia: "celebrates the anniversary of Canadian Confederation which occurred on July 1, 1867, with the passing of the British North America Act, 1867, when the three separate colonies of the United Canadas, Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick were united into a single dominion within the British Empire called Canada."

(3) We were impressed with the Harbor Host's PDF guide of the area. It was twenty-eight pages full of essential and nonessential information. We used it occasionally for the phone numbers for some of the locks. Mike asked the Host about their travels through the Waterway. It turns out they had never gone all the way through. We couldn't understand why.

(4) Sometimes there were official "No Wake" signs at beach parks, established docks, or under bridges. Other times there are simply private docks in front of homes with small boats in the water. In both cases, we pass by at about five MPH. 

(5) Questions: Did you come all the way from Seattle? Where do you live? Where did you start The Loop? Where are you going? How long is your boat? What kind of boat is it? How can you do this? 

Statements: I really want to do what you are doing someday. (Note: Gleam in eye.) 

(6) Most of the locks were ringed by concrete walls and sidewalks. They had bollards to tie to. Most did not offer power or fresh water. However, they were free. They were a great way to meet new Looper boat buddies; we exchanged stories and relaxed together in the evenings. 

(7) We went through 44 locks on the Trent Severn Waterway. The last lock is called "45," but one of the locks along the way was dismantled some time back. It took us twenty days to complete it. This includes four unplanned days in Orilla. It's 250 miles (386 kilometers) long. At Quinte West, the elevation was 241 feet. We go uphill via locks to reach 841 feet elevation, then travel downhill via locks to end up at 578 feet elevation. Most days we were on the boat from about mid-morning to late afternoon, often moving at no-wake speed or in a waiting game, at lock walls, or going up/down in the lock.