Secret Bay

After our adventure with the anchor failing to hold us, we left that bay in the afternoon, spent the night at Echo Bay, and carried on the next morning to Parry Sound for provisioning and a vet visit for Edee.  By late Thursday afternoon, we were on our way again with full fridge, full water tanks, and full fuel tanks.

We have been sworn to secrecy about our current location, because those who use it now don't want it to get too crowded.  I can tell you that it's surrounded by native reserve land, it's sheltered and quiet and really pretty.  And I can show you pictures.

A few other boats have poked their noses around the point, obviously wanting to come in, but there isn't room for another boat, so they go away disappointed.

Anchors away

Despite the bbq offerings the other night, there was no sighting of mama bear and the two cubs.  We did, however, have a delicious dinner.  

It has been very windy for the past few days, and we spun around on the anchor in all different directions throughout last night and this morning.  We had been discussing our next move, and trying to decide which anchorage might offer some relief from the constant wind, and then I went down to the galley to make lunch. 

Suddenly, Michael jumped from his seat, swearing, and rushed to the aft deck, shouting something about being on shore.  I looked out the door to the aft deck, and saw only trees…no water, no air, no space, just trees.  And a beaver lodge. 

I dropped everything and ran to help, scaring poor Edee, who didn’t have a clue what was happening.  Michael already had the dinghy started, and I jumped in. We headed for the anchor line, hoping that we could use that to tow the boat out of the two feet of water and the muddy shoreline where she rested and back into deeper water.  No luck.

We went back towards the boat, and took one of the docking lines from the bow, already attached to a cleat there, and wrapped the end onto a cleat on the dinghy.  Michael put the dinghy motor into reverse, and started to back away.  Nothing.  At least, not at first.  Then, ever so slowly, we sensed motion.  And then it started to rain, of course!

With the motor smoking from the extra load, we inched our way away from the shore, towing the mother ship with us.  Soon, we were at a safe enough distance and in deep enough water, that Michael could get on board, start the engines, and haul the anchor.  When the anchor broke the surface, there was a ball of weeds and mud so large that it appeared to double the size of the anchor.  No wonder it couldn't dig in and hold us in the increased winds.

We went to a different, less weedy part of the bay, reset the anchor, and finally managed to take a breath.  This is only the second time in all of our boating that we have dragged an anchor, and it’s not something I want to repeat. 

Sorry, but there are no photos of this adventure – we were a bit busy.  

Bear with me

All summer, I've been waiting to see a bear.  There have been plenty of beavers, a few otters, lots of loons, grebes and other assorted birds, but no bears.  We've had reports from others of bear sightings..."we saw one yesterday on that island over there", and ..."we saw one swimming from Pennsylvania Island to Crooked Island last week", and " I saw one on the way into the anchorage today".  But no bears for Mundy.

We arrived in the anchorage inside Crooked Island on Saturday afternoon, to find our intended corner already occupied.  So we dropped anchor in the middle, and Michael took the dinghy to introduce himself to the neighbours.  He came back with news that they had seen a mother and two cubs just the night before, so I was now on bear watch.  Nothing on Saturday night, and nothing on Sunday night, despite my best efforts.

Today, as the neighbours were getting ready to leave, he came over to say goodbye, and tell us that they had seen mum and cubs AGAIN last night.  The secret, he said, was to light the bbq and let it smoke.  They came to investigate the smells.  We moved into their corner after they had gone, and settled into a quiet afternoon on aft deck, listening to the breeze in the trees and the birds chirping.  I thought I saw one, but it turned out to be a rock in the distance.  I swear, that shadow looked just like a little bear profile!

Then, there was a noise in the woods of something moving through the brush.  With binoculars at hand, I started scanning the few openings in the trees that were visible.  A shadow moved through one...a large shadow.  More noise from the bushes as I called to Michael to bring the camera.  And then, there he was...a lovely black bear, intent on making his way across the shoreline.

He didn't stay out in the open for very long, but we caught glimpses of him in the bushes across the bay for the next 20 minutes or so.  Still no cubs evident, so maybe we will still get to see them tonight.  I am planning blackened chicken for dinner!!

It doesn't get much better than this

From sunrise in Port Rawson Bay...

...to secluded anchorages in Spider Bay,

...we are enjoying the wonderful summer weather as we meander around the Massassauga Provincial Park.  

One of these anchorages is home to an abandoned copper mine, surrounded by high rock walls which crack and wear in amazingly regular, straight-edged shapes.

We were joined here for a night by Bob and Judy from Florida, aboard Sanderling.  They are on their way to the North Channel, but at a very slow and relaxed pace that allows them plenty of time to truly appreciate the beauty of the trip.

We took them on a dinghy tour of the area, and discovered this new addition to the local landscape.

It seems to follow traditional construction, with all of the long supporting poles, and an entrance flap that laces closed, but we were unable to determine what material was used for the covering. According to a neighbour we met, it has two storeys.  This has to be the coolest bunky on the bay!!

Our days on the bay have been spent watching the loon family train their chicks,

and trying to keep ourselves cool with the help of our new floating toys.  A tether to the mother ship means no worries of floating away, and allowing total relaxation, as demonstrated here.  Sunglasses and hat in place, and a built in drink holder to complete the experience.

On our last trip into the marina, we came across an unusual sight - a flock of loons.  They are usually such solitary creatures, which are occasionally seen in pairs, but hardly ever in groups like this.

Sandwiched into all of this rest and relaxation over the last few weeks have been cataract removal and new lens implants for Michael, in both eyes.  He'll be good as new (or maybe better than new) in no time.

Summer's here.....

Canada Day has been and gone, and our friends in the US are celebrating Independence Day today.  We miss you all.

We've been having lots of fun, and spending plenty of time out at anchor.  We met friends from another marina in Port Rawson Bay over the Canada Day weekend before they head to the north channel for their vacation.

It's always a chore to get the raft set just right!!!

We spotted this family of red necked grebes while out for a ride in the dinghy.  Mum would make a short dive, then all the little babies (we counted 10!) would scurry to catch up as she surfaced.  We watched and laughed for about 10 minutes.

Michael and I are now on our own again, in a place that we call Wildberry Bay.  We went exploring this afternoon, and spotted this family of loons.

We got back to the mother ship in time for afternoon cocktails in the sun.  It got quite warm in the sun, and we decided to go for a swim before dinner.  As I swung my leg over the transom to get onto the swim platform, I noticed a stowaway....one that make my poor little heart skip a beat.

He had found an nice quiet spot in the sun, and my yelling disturbed him enough to force him back into the water.  Deciding that he was more afraid of us than we of him, we still went for a swim.  But just a quick one!

Olden days

In the olden days (about 25 years ago) it was possible to take a boat through this gap into the bay beyond.  Michael used to take his 26ft Bayliner through here without any difficulty at all.

Seven or eight years ago the tree fell, making this bay accessible only to dinghies.  Now, with the water levels as low as they are, we were lucky to get our small boat through without hitting the rocky bottom.

Please visit http://www.stopthedrop.ca/ to see how you can help.

Three Finger Bay

Today we moved further into the park, to a place called Three Finger Bay.

It's a pretty run, but care must be taken to avoid areas where rocks lay in wait for unwary boaters.  Helpful cottagers often mark these rocks with bottle floats.  In one season a few years ago, at least half a dozen boats from our marina damaged their props on these rocks lying just under the surface.

We arrived without mishap, and again, we had the whole place to ourselves, with our pick of anchorages.  We headed for a small beach, next to a narrow cut through to another bay.  We thought there was a sign posted indicating no fires allowed, which was fine with us.

Michael set the anchor perfectly, and began to back towards the beach to set a stern anchor.  As we got closer, I was able to actually read the sign, which in fact said 'No Anchoring'.  Trust us to pick the only place in the whole bay!!

So we upped anchor, and slowly cruised to our second choice based on the projected winds.  Again, we set the anchor, and waited to make sure everything was OK. The wind gusts were not coming from the direction they should have been, according to the weather reports, and we were soon beginning to drift around the anchor in entirely the wrong direction.

So we upped anchor again, and headed for a large, shallow area where we could anchor and swing all the way around and not hit anything.  It was such a rough day, Michael decided we should go to Henry's for supper, and I quickly agreed!