Elaine & Mike’s Adventures : 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?