Some Like It Hot-
By Mike Koss
On July 27th, the intrepid cruising sailors of the Lake Dubay Sailing Association hitched up our wagons and struck out for Buffalo Bay Marina, at Red Cliff, Wisconsin, on the shores on Lake Superior. Our ultimate destination was the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore.
Two boats and crews made the trip: Joe and Lacinda Terry, with their two willing crewmembers Tristin and Calen, on their MacGregor 26 ÒReverieÓ and myself and cousin Chuck Jagodinski, on my Catalina 22 ÒBlewBoatÓ Unfortunately, Stan Dale and friend Barb were unable to make the trip on StanÕs Catalina 22 ÒBelle DreamÓ, as planned, although they did graciously make the drive up to see us off.

Blew Boat and Reverie made it to Red Cliff at about 2:00 PM Thursday, with plenty of time to set up and go for an afternoon sail in light air. Reverie sailed north up the coast for the 3 miles to Schooner Bay Marina to get settled in where we had reserved slips for Thursday night. Chuck and I sailed Blew Boat down the 3 miles south to Bayfield to have a look around, and maybe escape the mid-90 degree heat that had been plaguing the Midwest for most of last two weeks of July. After couple of very cold beers and a pizza at the Pickled Herring restaurant, we made our way back North to Schooner Bay, where we spent an enjoyable evening in the well-protected harbor.
Friday morning we
departed Schooner Bay for DevilÕs Island, setting sail in light but adequate
easterly winds and brilliant sunshine, meeting up at the Park Service dock on
the Southeast side of Otter Island for lunch, and a swim in the crystal-clear
water. Even though the air
temperature was well in the nineties again, the surface water temperature
offshore measured about 55 F. The
water temperature near shore was somewhat warmer, but not by much- a short swim
to cool off went a long way!
Departing Otter Island,
the wind swung to the West and then died altogether, so we motored the remaining
5 miles to the south landing harbor at DevilÕs Island, with ÒSimÓ (our tiller
pilot) doing most of the helm work. Our original plan was to spend Friday night in this remote
harbor, and explore DevilÕs by the overland trail that runs from the harbor to
the northern end sea caves. Even
though the wind was non-existant, a low
westerly swell entered the shallow, rocky harbor, making an overnight
stay there not an option. Joe, his
son Calen, and Chuck decided to hike the two-mile round trip to the north of
the island to see the lighthouse buildings, and some of the sea caves. Lacinda
and Tristin swam in the clear water of the little harbor, while I worked on
small maintenance projects between dunks in the harbor to cool off. (Cruising
is indeed the art of boat maintenance in exotic locations.) Since we needed to go somewhere else
for the night, and since Superior was so flat calm (a very unusual state for
this greatest of the Great Lakes), we decided to motor around to the north end
of the island to view and photograph the unbelievable sea caves, before heading
due east a few miles to find protection for the night on the west side of South
Twin Island.

Reverie and BlewBoat
both managed to find space at the small Park Service Dock at South Twin,
where we would be protected from the anticipated wind direction change to the
northeast during the night. The
wind did indeed change as advertised during the night, accompanied by some
violent thunderstorms and one of the most spectacular lighting displays I have
ever seen. During the night, the
wind swung out of the northeast, but an uncomfortable southwesterly swell
persisted, making our position on the dock untenable. As soon as daylight broke, Chuck and I moved Blewboat out a
hundred yards or so
and anchored in 12 feet
of water, the hook securely buried in a rippled sand bottom. The motion onboard BlewBoat was
immediately improved, and we managed to get some sleep. (This has taught me that if there is
any kind of wave action at all, one will sleep infinitely better swinging at
anchor as opposed to being tied up at a dock- the motion is so much gentler!)
The next morning (Saturday) we set sail for Presque Isle Bay, Stockton Island, in 10-15 knot northeasterly winds, and 1-3 foot seas, which built to 15-20 knots winds and 3-5 foot seas as the day went on. BlewBoat was conservatively attired in a storm jib (made by Stan Dale), and a double-reefed main. We eventually shook out one of the reefs, hanked on the working jib, and had an absolute blast tacking up the channel between Madeline and Stockton- some of the best sailing I have experienced, with BlewBoat making 5.5 to 6 knots to weather in 3-5 foot comfortable seas, and good old ÒSimÓ (our tiller pilot) doing most of the work.

We made Presque Isle Bay
by mid afternoon, and anchored outside of the harbor in waist-deep
crystal-clear water over a rippled sand bottom. There was no dock space inside the harbor, so we waded
ashore for a leg-stretch. Later,
with Reverie and BlewBoat rafted up, we enjoyed a leisurely dinner and
conversation. Then both boats
moved into deeper water to anchor for the night. Later that night we were entertained by another round of
violent thunderstorms with spectacular displays of lightning, all the while
being protected in this excellent anchorage.
Sunday morning broke to gray skies and intermittent rain and thunderstorms with squally winds out of the west-northwest. We decided to wait for better weather before making the run back to Red Cliff for the trip home. At about 9:00 AM, a NWS bulletin was broadcast advising mariners in the area to get off the water if possible. Reverie came alongside and picked up Chuck and I, leaving BlewBoat buttoned-up and at anchor, while we sought shelter inside the harbor- Reverie is a water-ballasted boat with a flush-retracting centerboard, making beaching possible, which we did inside the harbor. We then took shelter in the NPS Visitor Center to wait out the weather. One thunder cell after another barreled through, with intense lightning and torrential rain. We noticed that a sieche had been occurring, a phenomenon peculiar to large inland waters, no doubt due to the intense squall winds- the water level rose and fell by about a foot in a matter of minutes- they are really quite weird to see- like inland tides.

Finally at about 2:30 in the afternoon, we decided to make
the run to Red Cliff, agreeing to sail within sight of the other boat, and to
duck into Quarry Bay, 3 miles west on Stockton, if the going got too rough. We motored out in a rainstorm, which
quickly became a deluge with visibility restricted to a few hundred yards, but
not much wind, in 1-3 foot seas.
As the wind was manageable, we decided to give the motor a little help
by setting sail with a single-reefed main and working jib. As the wind built,
the motor become un-needed and was shut down. Blessed peace!
As we moved through the current thunderstorm, the skies began to clear,
and the wind swung to the east- southeast strongly, and building. As the wind continued to build to 20
knots, we struck the working jib, replacing it with the storm jib, which turned
out to be an excellent move. As we
sailed through the strait between Hermit and Basswood Islands, the southeast
wind really began to blow, accelerated by the islands. The foredeck was awash from time to
time, and the 3 foot chop was very steep, with mostly whitecaps, as the wind
built to 25-30 knots, with an occasional gust to 35-40 knots in the North
Channel between Basswood Island and the mainland. This was the strongest wind I have ever sailed in. We were knocked down only one time,
with a little water coming over the cockpit coaming- but BlewBoat, honest and
seakindly as she is, rounded up to
weather and righted herself at once.
(Thank you, Frank Butler and Catalina!) This a was one of those confidence-building events, which
one would not intentionally seek out, that serves to make one a better, more
experienced sailor, with (hopefully) even more confidence in oneÕs vessel. Sailors tend to form emotional bonds
with their boats, and experiences like this are the reason that happens. 
Pulling into the well-protected harbor at Red Cliff seemed a world apart from the blow outside in the North Channel. Driving through the city of Bayfield on the way home, south along Highway 13, we saw extensive tree and power line damage done by the morning thunderstorm, which utility crews were still working to clean up.
After a final dinner in Ashland with the crew of Reverie, we began the trip home, already planning to do this again next year- there are a lot of the Apostle Islands yet to see. Yes, we will hope for better weather next year, but fair weather or foul, this yearÕs expedition was unforgettable, with memories enough to get us through the next Wisconsin winter!
These are things worth remembering.