Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Buffalo, NY, USA
Welcome to Port Stanley, Ontario
Our stay in Canada has been way too short, but in the immortal words of my old boss – it is what it is. We arrived Sunday at Port Stanley. Port Stanley seems like a decent place. It still has large a fishing fleet, plus several other port operations, namely a fuel depot. I gather it was quite a place in its prime, as there was a rail road which would have moved freight to/from port to London, a much larger town farther north. Now Port Stanley seems to enjoy a rather prosperous influx from tourism. Very few of the people we ran into lived there. Asking directions to the grocery store was kind of a pain, as we kept getting the “I don’t know, I don’t live here” reply.
Port Stanley, Small Town, Canada
We spent less than an hour in town, looking for some milk and eggs. We found the grocery store at 18:05 – it had closed at 18:00. It was Sunday, and most things were closed. We aren’t in Vegas anymore, that is for sure. We walked back through town (luckily it isn’t very big) to a convenience store and purchased what we needed to get us through until we returned to the USA: bread, eggs, a bag of milk, etc. We quickly stowed our provisions and headed toward the anchorage, dropped the hook, and made dinner.
Every time we go shopping somewhere, there is always a nagging question in the back of my mind I can’t figure out. Perhaps I spend too many hours on deck sailing (or motoring), as it seems silly, but I can’t help think about it. We reuse the plastic grocery bags as trash bags aboard Nereus, like many households do – just one more way living aboard is similar to living ashore. However, I can’t figure out where all the bags go. We buy “X” amount of goods, most of which we presume we consume, therefore leaving a plethora of plastic baggage on board. As a matter of fact, we should have so many extra, we should be swimming in them in the cabin – a literal boat load of plastic grocery bags. But, that is not the case. We always run out. So the question remains, how do we throw out more stuff than we bring aboard? Do the bags some how shrink after initial use? Lately, I’ve taken to asking for extra bags and double bag as much stuff as possible, so we are currently operating at with bag surplus. I don’t think it will last. For some reason, we always have extra trash, I just can’t figure out where it comes from. I mean, we eat what we bring aboard, so how is it we throw away more than we bring aboard and run out of bags? It’s like sea nymphs are sneaking aboard and supplying us with extra refuse or, perhaps, stealing our bags. I don’t get it. Perhaps the sun is starting to get to me.
Nereus (on the left) at Port Stanley
Up early (for us) Monday, we departed Port Stanley and began our long run down the northern coast of Lake Erie, where we would anchor in a well defined anchorage behind “Bluff Bar” on Long Point. The weather was beautiful, although we were running into a slight head wind the whole way, so sailing was out of the question. But the north shore of Lake Erie is surprisingly beautiful, with rugged cliffs topped by expansive farms and forests. At Long Point, the topography changes and is very low landed with a long, wide beach and a few trees. At Long Point, it isn’t the topography that gets your attention. It is what’s under the water, or at least what the chart says is under there.
Chart Courtesy Maptech.com
The anchorage, on our chart, is located, on the chart to the left, where the word “Bar” is in the “Bluff Bar,” north of Long Point. Anchoring here presented a few challenges. First of all, there are no alternatives close by and it is already a long day just to make it here. Second, unlike lakes Michigan and Huron, Lake Erie isn’t very clean and there isn’t any visibility, so I can’t see the bottom or my anchor, something I’ve grown used to in the cooler, clearer waters off northern Michigan. The problem is all the little block dots. Canada is drilling for natural gas everywhere around here and all the black dots are wells and the dotted lines are the pipelines that connect them all. A close-up of the area indicates a well defined and protected anchorage, clear from any obstructions, however, just because the chart says so, doesn’t mean that is the case.
Drilling Rig repairing gas pipeline leak
Canadian Marine Radio is superior to US Weather Radio, as the Canadian’s take the time to broadcast their “Local Notice to Mariners” over the air waves. In the US, you either have to stop by the local Coast Guard office and pick up a publication, or find one on the internet for the local area. In Canada, it is great because it is so easily accessible to us at the turn of a radio knob. The “Notice” is broadcast continuously with the weather, so you just have to listen. The Canadian’s were broadcasting a “leak” in a pipeline, giving coordinates along our route. Must be quite a leak, too, as they said the leak covered a 4 – 6 foot area.
“What do we do,” asked Vanessa?
“Well, if you see bubbles, don’t drive through them. Remember Discovery Channel and the Bermuda Triangle series about methane gas and boat buoyancy?” I replied.
“Oh yeah! You mean we could sink?”
“Not if you don’t drive though it.”
There was nothing to worry about as a drilling platform was already on scene at the eastern tip of Long Point, presumably repairing the leak. We snuck around, and headed for our anchorage, as marked on our chart. On paper, it looks good. That “Bluff Bar” sticks out and provides a small bay, shielding the anchorage from all directions except west. Wind was forecast from the east and south. In there, we would be safe. When we arrived on location, where was “Bluff Bar”? We dropped anchor on our mark, right on the “Bar” in the chart above, and looked around. We were in the middle of nowhere and completely exposed, except from the south. Then it struck me. Canadian Marine Radio stated the water levels for Lake Erie were .7 meters (2 feet, 4 inches) above datum. Therefore, Bluff Bar was under water. We’d come this far, there was no other place to go. We knew the weather was to turn south, so we decided to stay. There was no other choice.
“What do we do about anchoring?” Vanessa asked.
“We be careful not to snag a well or a pipeline,” I answered. There really wasn’t much else to say. It really was as simple as that. I didn’t really think it was an issue. The chart showed the “anchorage” clear of wells, so we dropped the anchor and started dinner.
After dinner, we walked on deck and looked at the stars. It’s nice being out of the city, were there’s lots of light pollution. Last night, with no moon, the milky way was out in full force. Living in Vegas, I hadn’t seen it in years. Bing stood on deck attempting to sing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”
We turned in and had a bumpy ride for a while, until the east winds finally gave way to the southerlies. Even so, I didn’t sleep well. We were planning another long day – 68 miles – to Buffalo and the USA. We set the alarm, although I didn’t need it. I worried about being exposed and the unlikely possibility of dragging. Also, I began having “Discovery Channel” dreams and nightmares about methane gas, the Bermuda Triangle, and sinking. The result, I was up before the sun. It was light enough, so I got up, made my coffee, and sat on deck, sipping (well, I slurp) and contemplating the coming sail.
I don’t make a big deal about birthdays anymore. I mean, who cares. It’s just another day and I usually don’t even remember it. Today is my birthday. I only mention it as I had a special treat I allowed myself to fully enjoy. I saw my first sunrise in years, and out here on the water, it was spectacular. Both girls were still asleep. I sat, quietly, drinking my coffee as a giant red orb rose out of the water and into the sky. It was breath taking. I thought, for a moment, about taking a picture, then decided it was my birthday treat and I was keeping it for myself.
After the show was over, I started the engine, raised the anchor, and set course. No bubbles, no well burst, no dragging, just fine sailing toward the end of our Great Lakes journey – Buffalo, NY. We arrived this evening around 19:00. Tired, we tied at the Buffalo Yacht Club, our gracious host for the night. It’s good to be home.
– Steve