Marcia woke up to check on our anchor - we dragged anchor yesterday morning. Beaver Island is quite dark. She called out, "Stars, northern lights!" And so I went out dressed in a hoodie. Then went below to get the camera - the boat swings at anchor, but the northern lights were awesome.
We’ve made a transition this week from sailors to cruisers. Something happens to you when the motion of the boat is barely noticed, but standing on land seems that you are moving. We met a couple at the dinghy dock, invited them over at cocktail time (anytime after 4:30pm), and you spend a bit of time talking about ground tackle (anchors, and such). Roger and Michelle are on the Great Loop. That’s a loop that goes down the Mississippi River, around Florida, north along the ICW (Inter-Coastal Waterway), west along the canals to Lake Ontario or Lake Erie, more canals if you are going through Canada, or through Lake St. Clair, Lake Huron, through the Straits, and into Lake Michigan to Chicago and then down the river again. Start anywhere, end anywhere, but if you cross your wake and complete the 6000 mile…
At dawn, I boiled water to make coffee. After that first cup, the frypan went on the stove with a bit of Irish butter. The Cinnamon Raisin bread from the Farmer’s Market warmed in the melted butter, not toasted, just hot enough to absorb the dairy loveliness. The rest of the french press coffee was filtered and split between our cups. A quarter of a green pepper chopped, two green onions chopped, and a couple of ounces of sharp cheddar grated. The vegetables were sautéed in a little more of the butter, then four eggs added. Freshly ground salt and pepper, and finally the cheese. It doesn’t get better than this. Marcia did the dishes. I downloaded another book from the library, and reflected on the start of the day. Later, we’ll raise anchor and stop at the nearby fuel dock to pump…
February 2023 - Bayport, MN - 0º FahrenheitWe drove 600 miles to have our first look at the 2007 Catalina 350 that we would name Reflection We're Harold and Marcia. Harold had his first brush with sailing on Barton Pond, near Ann Arbor, MI. He and two other mates would put in their one-person rubber rafts upstream on the Huron River. Floating down the river, they would come to wider part of the river (Barton Pond) and have to paddle the length of the pond without a current. Innovation struck with the adoption of the plastic dropcloth as spinnaker. Towards the end of high school, Harold would canoe on the Huron, most often at night. In college, Harold needed a P.E. credit and chose a sailing class. He was hooked. Marcia came along in 1981, and joined Harold on the late-night canoe trips.…
