Hi All,

I'm sitting here in the cockpit under the makeshift anchor light, proving that I can't really touch type. I need enough light to be able to almost see the keynoard. The anchor light, a really cool little Davis utility light with a fresnel lens, pscked it in while we were sitting in Twelve Mile Bay. I hadn't thought ahead to stocking spare bulbs. Peggy and Louise were impressed when I pulled out my kit and soldered up a replacement from an LED cluster lamp, some spare cable and an extra 12 volt plug. It will have to do until we hit Killarney or some other major centre for new bulbs.

Yesterday morning I fueled up the dinghy and went down to pick up my brother John at the governament dock on the south shore of Twelve Mile Bay. We went back to the boat in the little hole in the wall anchorage, hung out for a while, then went out to make an effort at some sailing. Unfortunately, the wind didn't want to cooperate. We motored out, sailed for about an hour at 3 knots, then bobbed about and went for swim. Then back to the dock after a bit of a tour of the bay. We dropped off John and Peggy on a drive by basis and didn't hit the dock. John took Peggy back to Midland to pick up the car, then went on to a band gig in Orillia. Or so I assume, as we have been in the land of limited connectivity -- that was the plan.

Louise and I headed back out the bay, then up the small boat channel to Frying Pan Island, where we discovered that there was not enough water for Dragon to get into the dock at the Marina/Grocery/Liquor Store. How we figured that out is left as an exercise for the reader. Louise did a masterful job of managing the boat out in the channel while I dinghied in for supplies. We then went on to a nearby anchorage recommended by Harley, a guy who had dropped by the boat for a beer while we were at Christian Island. He had seen we were still flying the regatta fleet flag and wanted to trade stories. We spent another wonderful night in a spot I would never have guessed at from the charts or the Ports guide. My chart book is filling up with annotations of local knowledge from multiple sources, all because of our regatta involvement.

I need to clean the BBQ soon. Last night was pork chops and tonight was steak, both accompanied by great Ontario tomatoes I picked up in Midland.

Louise is really getting the hang of the anchor thing. So often you see people come into an anchorage and create a flap in the process of anchoring. It is wonderful to come in and look like pros without a lot of shouting.

This morning we set off at the crack of nine, back out into the big bay. The east side of Georgian Bay is incredibly rocky with a shoreline that for practical purposes is about five miles deep. The small boat channel threads in and out around the rocks up the east side, and is rather nerve wracking to drive through. I don't like having big piles of rock just 20 feet off the side of the boat. So after about 5 miles of roughly west, we turned roughly North and put 43 miles on the clock up to Bayfield Inlet. We started out sailing, and doing OK, but about 1300 I invoked the 2 knot rule and switched on the engine. I miss Kingston wind...

We drove into the inlet along another couple of miles of small boat channel. I never saw less than 12 feet on the depth sounder, but there was a lot of careful chart monitoring. If I am going to do a lot of this, then I really want a pedestal mounted plotter. It was so much easier out in the Bay, with nobody around for miles, and no rocks around for miles. Once we got out we saw nothing except a bulk carrier ship inbound to Parry Sound (?) that passed about a mile in front of us.

We anchored off the north side of Gibraltar Island and the Breeze is just enough to keep the mosquitoes away. The stars are absolutely stunning. The water is amazingly warm, and life is good.

Today's big wildlife moment was right out in the bay. We were well offshore to avoid some scary looking rocks, probably about eight miles out. It was hazy enough and the shore is flat enough that there was nothing visible in any direction except water. A beautiful and huge Monarch Butterfly suddenly flapped into the cockpit, flitted around for a bit and decided to move on. It was last seen headed NW. The sun was bright and the orange of the wings was incredibly vivid.

It's probably time to quit. The spiders are fighting for ownership of my computer.

Still having fun,


PS I have combined these trip reports into a web version,
for those who are really keen to read the installments again, or for
those I forgot to add to the list until more recently. The
address is:


It may not be completely up to date.