EDITED BY LYNDA MORRIS CHILDRESS

We’d just hit the jackpot. We were docked in Tobin Harbor on Lake Superior’s Isle Royale aboard Sasha, our Island Packet 40, when the bounty appeared. It came along with a park ranger, who’d just happened by to check on things. As we chatted amiably, he blurted, “Would you like some fresh fish?” He’d caught far more than he could eat that day. “Call me Rick,” he said with a grin.

My husband, Radd, is a sailor, not a fisherman; he was thrilled to have any fish out of the lake. Of course, we gratefully accepted—and counted our blessings for having discovered this wonderful place. 

Our journey had been a long one. Florida is our home port, and we’d spent our cruising lives on various boats exploring the Bahamas and the US East Coast as far north as Washington, D.C. Then, inspired by an upcoming family wedding in Minnesota, we decided to cruise north, with an extended Great Loop adventure.

We started that March, heading up the Intracoastal Waterway and seeing New York City from a mooring ball on the Hudson River. We unstepped the mast in Catskill, New York, and then journeyed through the Erie Canal, where locals told us that we had the biggest sailboat they had seen all season. We branched off at the Oswego Canal, then crossed Lake Ontario and entered the Trent-Severn Waterway in Canada. 

Once we got to Midland, Ontario, we were a sailboat again, cruising on to Georgian Bay and the North Channel of Lake Huron. While most Loopers turn south at this point, we kept going straight into Lake Superior via the Soo Locks, near Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan. Since we still had time before the wedding, we headed to Isle Royale. 

Forty-five miles long and 9 miles wide, Isle Royale is more popular with hikers than boaters, so it’s never crowded on the water. It’s a US national park, albeit one of the least-visited ­because of its short season and remote location. It can be cold even in July, and there’s fog. This is remote cruising at its best. 

The scenery is unrivaled. Fjords offer protection and shelter, and there are numerous no-service docks. Wildlife includes moose and wolves, as well as plenty of fish.

The fish we received that day were lake trout, four of them. This fish could not have been any fresher. Of course, we invited Ranger Rick to join us for dinner, along with Ted, our dock neighbor. 

I’d need a meal fit for company. I decided on a quick tomato-­onion salsa to accompany the fish, assembled it, and then set it aside to let the flavors blend. As I prepared to saute the fish, I had a moment of panic: I was out of cooking oil. I mean, totally out—no canola oil, no olive oil, not even butter. I was up fish creek without a paddle.

Then, I thought of mayonnaise. It was oil-based, and I was out of options. I tossed a couple of tablespoons of it in the hot pan and—voilà!—it melted. It resembled oil. 

I threw on the fish. While they sizzled, I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.

It was a memorable dinner, lively with good conversation and good company. Rick’s story was fascinating: We learned about his work with water management on the island (there is a lodge, a restaurant and regular ferry service) and his seasonal life in an island cabin. He spends every summer on the island; his wife joins him on weekends via ferry. Fish, he told us, is a staple of his diet, and he was most pleased with having it prepared in a different way. 

The “mayo fish” earned two thumbs up from all, as well as a toast to creative cooking. The fish was white, firm, mild and divine. The salsa was a classic hit too. 

Good as it was, the fish wasn’t the only thing that got caught that day. Lake Superior had worked its magic. We were ­captured—hook, line and sinker. It’s our new base for the near future. —Lorelei Johnson

Trout with Tomato-Onion Salsa (serves 4)

For the trout:

• 4 lake trout fillets, 6 oz. each (or ­substitute saltwater trout, grouper, salmon or tilefish)
• 3 Tbsp. mayonnaise
• Salt and pepper, to taste

For the salsa:

• 3 large cloves garlic 
• 3 medium tomatoes, chopped
• 1 medium sweet onion, finely chopped
• 1/2 cup cilantro, finely chopped
• Juice of 1 lime
• Kosher or sea salt, to taste

Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. 

Peel and mince the garlic. Leave it on your cutting board. Sprinkle with salt, and press the mixture with the flat side of a large knife; gather it back together, and repeat several times to form a paste. Combine remaining salsa ingredients in a medium bowl, blend in the garlic paste, and set aside. Do not ­refrigerate. 

Heat a large, heavy, oven-proof pan (­preferably cast-iron) over medium-high heat. Add mayonnaise, and spread it around with a wooden spoon. Saute fish fillets for 2 to 3 minutes without moving or lifting the fish. 

Gently lift one fillet’s corner to check for ­doneness. If it’s browned, then flip the fillets and place the pan in the oven. After 2 to 3 minutes in the oven, the other side will brown and the inside will cook.

To serve, place a fillet in the center of each plate and top with a generous amount of salsa. Serve any remaining salsa in a bowl on the table. Accompany with rice and fresh bread for dipping.

The post A Superior Fish appeared first on Cruising World.

I woke up with the sun and climbed into the cockpit with a blanket and a hot mug of coffee, breath steaming in the crisp morning air. The shoreline was luminous in the soft light, the empty beach alluring. The boat rocked gently in the breeze as an eagle called out from high above. I had to pinch myself; I was not in the San Juan Islands near Seattle or in the Gulf Islands of Canada. I was on Lake Superior in Wisconsin, a lake that both looked and acted very much like an ocean.

I am an ocean sailor. I learned to sail in the Pacific Northwest and left to go cruising from there, my sights pointed south and west. I had never been sailing on fresh water. When travel restrictions in response to the COVID-19 outbreak kept us from returning to our boat waiting for us in a boatyard in French Polynesia, my husband, John, and I looked around to get our sailing fix locally. We found it in the unlikeliest of places: right in the middle of the country.

The Apostle Islands is a grouping of 22 protected islands nestled in the corner of one of the biggest lakes in the world. “Lake” is a bit of a misnomer; “inland sea” is a more accurate description. This particular inland sea is the size of Austria and at places is over 1,200 feet deep. It has the largest surface area of any freshwater lake on Earth, over 31,000 square miles, and holds 10 percent of the entire planet’s fresh water. That’s crazy! It’s also hard to conceptualize because the entire sea is situated 600 feet above sea level. To reach the ocean, boats must sail 2,400 miles across three lakes and navigate 16 locks to descend those 600 feet.

I simply couldn’t imagine it: a lake like an ocean, a contained body of water capable of throwing challenging weather conditions to test even the most seasoned sailors. Unpredictable wind, sudden pea-soup fog, navigational hazards and steep wind waves are all common conditions. The rewards are just as sweet too. Secluded anchorages, stunning sunsets, vibrant contrasting colors of red sandstone, verdant green trees and clear blue water. I just had to see it for myself.

Superior Charters & Yacht Sales in Bayfield arranged for us to sail a Jeanneau 349, aptly named Bliss, for a four-day cruise through the Apostle Islands. These islands, along with the nearby mainland coast, make up a 70,000-acre National Lakeshore area. Only one of the islands is inhabited; the rest are home only to healthy populations of black bears, deer, eagles, otters and more. It was the beginning of September and the start of their shoulder season, which meant quiet anchorages, fewer bugs, cool crisp nights and unpredictable weather.

Bliss was well-appointed with a full galley, plenty of water and diesel, good sails, an anchor windlass and an autopilot. One of the benefits of chartering from Superior Charters & Yacht Sales is that they encourage guests to board the boat the night before the official start of the vacation. We picked up an envelope at 7 p.m. with a map of the marina, codes for the bathrooms and a checklist of items we should verify on the boat. That evening we introduced ourselves to Bliss, unpacked and settled in. It was a wonderful, stress-free way to start the vacation.

The next morning, checkout was a breeze. Mike, a captain with Superior Charters, arrived promptly at 0800 to review the checklist and answer questions. He ensured that we knew where everything was, what safety equipment we had and how to use the systems on board. He then revealed his love for this unique place as he bragged about the beauty of the islands and shared with us some of his favorite secluded spots.

By midmorning, we waved goodbye to Mike, slipped our dock lines and hoisted the sails in a sporty 15 to 20 knots from the southwest. The weather forecast kept us conservative in distance and anchorage choice that first night. The wind was predicted to make a 135-degree shift in the evening and blow a gale from the north all night. There are no all-weather anchorages in the Apostles, so one thing Capt. Mike coached us on was to always have a backup plan in case the winds decide to buck the forecaster’s predictions. We chose the southeast hook of Stockton Island, a popular choice judging by the six other boats in the bay, all nestled into the northern corner.

The forecast was not joking. Just as the sun dipped below the horizon, the wind made an about-face and started blowing from the north without lessening in intensity. A new boat in a new place in 35 to 40 knots of wind overnight is never a recipe for a good night’s sleep, but Bliss handled the weather like a champ. We got up to confirm our position and check the anchor rode for chafing a few times, all without incident. She held well in the sticky sand, the wind whistling harmlessly through the rigging.

A gale was an exciting way to start the trip, and a good reminder that shoulder-season sailing means being prepared for a variety of conditions. It was just like cruising in the San Juan Islands in September, when summer and winter collide overhead. A fresh breeze turns cheeks red; puffy jackets and beanies appear from the depths of lockers. It was so similar to sailing in the San Juans, in fact, that I kept watching for whale spouts in the distance!

We fell into a familiar routine. Our days started with an unhurried cup of coffee in the cockpit while listening to the weather forecast on the VHF. We would then haul the anchor and hoist the sails for a few hours of exploration. By late afternoon, we would set the hook in a new anchorage, with plenty of time to explore the shore by kayak or foot before happy hour. A glass of wine, a beautiful sunset, a big hearty dinner and a quiet evening with a good book. It felt so good to be back on the water.

The Apostle Islands are bunched together, which makes them easy and accessible for fun daysailing. While our conditions were not always (well, ever) a perfect 15 knots on the aft quarter, we never felt exposed or in danger. In fact, most of our time under sail was fully voluntary. We were never far from our next anchorage and would often take the meandering way, easily turning a 10-mile passage into a 30-mile sail that laced us through rocky outcroppings and along sandy shorelines.

Each island in the Apostles has its own personality. Stockton has an intriguing mix of lakes, forests and wetlands. Wonderful hiking trails crisscross the island, often on raised boardwalks above the delicate grasses and swampland.

Oak Island is the tallest at 1,000 feet above sea level (and 400 feet above this sea’s level). It was the first Apostle island, emerging about 10,000 years ago as the level began to drop in a giant lake that had formed between the retreating glacier edge to the north and high ground to the south. Today Oak Island has steep cliffs that rise abruptly out of the sea and a very active black bear population.

Outer Island is the guardian, a sentinel standing tall in the northeast corner, with the other islands huddled behind it. It is this island that gets pummeled by the most vicious northeasterly gales. As evidence of its protective responsibility, the rugged coastline is dramatically pocked with sea caves where waves have battered the sandstone for thousands of years.

Madeline is the only populated island, with 302 full-time residents. The main street through town is dotted with a handful of tourist shops and restaurants, served by a quaint car ferry from Bayfield. It was particularly quiet when we arrived midweek and out of season, following an unstable and worrying summer. Only one restaurant was open, offering burgers and sandwiches for takeout only. The impact of the pandemic is most apparent in places like this, where the whole town relies on summer tourism. With a high season only 90 days long, even in a good year it is hard to stay sustained through the slow winter. This year, some shops and restaurants never opened at all.

Too soon it was time to sail back to the marina. Or rather, motorsail; by then we had a wispy 6 knots from the northeast. The cruise had been just the antidote to my landlocked blues: a wonderful wilderness escape with no cell service or Wi-Fi, and few other people. It was four days of communing with the wind and waves, punctuated with visits to picturesque havens of sandstone and verdant conifers.

We only just got a taste. The crystal-clear water beckoned me for a swim, but the cold north wind dampened my enthusiasm to jump in. The leaves started to change while we were there, taunting me to come back and see the islands when they explode in color. And in winter, when conditions are just right, it’s possible to walk to some of the sea caves instead of sail. Icicles protrude from the caves, the whole scene still and quiet as if frozen in time. That is something I simply cannot imagine, and so I know I’ll be back.

Cruising the Apostle Islands

Bayfield, Wisconsin, is the home of Superior Charters and the Gateway to the Apostle Islands. The small town is located on the coast of Lake Superior and is about a 90-minute drive east from Duluth, Minnesota, which has an international airport.

Charter season: Late May through September, with the summer months being in greatest demand.

Guide Books: Superior Way by Bonnie Dahl and Sailing Adventures in the Apostle Islands by Lawrence W. Newman.

Provisioning: Grocery stores are available in Bayfield and nearby Washburn.

Fleet: Superior Charters’ current ­bareboat fleet comprises 26 monohulls and two catamarans.

Becca Guillote is a freelance writer and full-time sailor aboard Halcyon, a Valiant 40.

The post Apostle Islands Sailing Charter appeared first on Cruising World.

Remember the good old days, when all you talked about was going out on charter, or taking sailing lessons so you were qualified to do so? Now, like just about everything else in a pandemic era, the times have demanded new labels for recreational sailing and instruction.

Staff at Club Nautique on San Francisco Bay, like many others in the industry, immediately heeded the call: Socially Acceptable Independent Leisure (SAIL) became their go-to slogan. “We offered a basic keelboat and basic cruising package of instruction to families,” says Don Durant, chief executive officer. “We’d tried it a few years ago with no success, but in 2020 the timing was right. It’s been extremely rewarding, and the families love it.”

Slogans aside, Marcus Abbott, general manager of Anacortes Yacht Charters in Washington state, sums up current affairs this way: “People want to get out on the water. This pandemic has ended up being good for business.” By any name you call it—staycationing, quaranteaming, family adventuring, safe social bubbling, notching another checkmark on the bucket list—sailing in America is booming again.

RELATED: Buying a Charter Sailboat

After a bleak spring 2020 of lockdown due to COVID-19, sailing schools and chartering outlets across the country are enjoying a silver lining from customers venturing mostly closer to home. Instead of flying to the Greek isles, they’re driving to the Great Lakes. And to coastal towns in established sailing regions, from New England to the Chesapeake and Florida on the East Coast; from the Pacific Northwest down through the Mexican border on the West Coast.

Record numbers are joining sailing clubs, signing up for coursework offered by US Sailing and the American Sailing Association teaching affiliates, taking crewed charters if they’re nonsailors, or booking bareboat charters and buying boats if they are. Companies have scurried to hire instructors and skippers, add to new- and used-boat inventories for sales and charter, create standby lists for classes, and lengthen sailing seasons for clients who just want to get away—for a day, overnight, a few days, or a week or two.

This crop of new participants and old salts has much to look forward to as they fulfill their dreams and discover—or rediscover—remote anchorages, stunning scenery and pleasant weather in their beautiful backyards on the water.

Two Steps Back, Leaps Forward

Before the phones rang off the hook and the emails poured in, companies and schools had to adopt cleaning and safety protocols for workers and vacation sailors. It was anything but easy, yet in the end, they report that the efforts paid off, and clients, via their wallets and feedback, support the changes.

What transpired at Great Lakes Sailing Company and ASA school in Traverse City, Michigan, is a vivid example: “In May, we were frustrated that we couldn’t open our industry even with strict safety standards in place,” says company president Dave Conrad.

Great Lakes Sailing, which had developed its own guidelines with help from a medical doctor with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention COVID-19 Task Force, wound up getting involved with the Michigan Boating Industries Association and state senators to create industrywide standards. “It was one of those situations where we realized that the governor’s office was overwhelmed with trying to develop guidelines for every industry to safely reopen,” Conrad says. “It really shows what good can happen when people stop complaining and get involved.”

The changes ushered in include digital practices that will likely have staying power for clients and ­students who seek to explore the freshwater paradise of northern Michigan in 2021: “We changed our charter briefings so clients could better familiarize themselves with the boat before arriving,” Conrad says. “They receive digital information on where every mechanical and safety component is on the boat, and we digitized our chart briefings.

“We found that the client was arriving already familiar with the boat, and we could do a majority of the mechanical, systems and chart briefings in the open air of the cockpit. We’ll keep these procedures in place because it’s not only a timesaver for us and the client—it doesn’t skimp on the process. The client is actually better-informed.”

Not only are clients better-informed by the time they show up at the base, but their “asks” reflect pandemic-inspired trends. Those who shun dockage and restaurants are asking for dinghies and grills. Some clients, especially those coming by car, want the sleep-aboard service the night before the charter starts. “For the most part, people are driving to our base,” says Susan Restauri, charter manager with Cruise Annapolis and the Waypoints network in Maryland. “I get more inquiries out of Washington, D.C., than I’ve ever gotten before.”

Aside from experienced sailors booking charters a week or longer, the newbies are jumping aboard quickly. “Many of the new charter clients don’t even know what a monohull is,” Restauri says. “So the key is matching them with the size boat that would meet their party size and allow accommodations for a skipper. They would also reduce their group size just to get whatever boat is available.”

Other types of clients are also driving the activity. “We’ve had birthdays, daysails, bachelorette parties and a wedding,” Restauri says. “In 2020, family is what it’s all about.”

Families are definitely evident on the instruction side of the equation—similar to what worked for Club Nautique. Here’s what’s in demand at Offshore Sailing School in Florida: “We are doing more private courses—just for a couple who want to learn together without any other strangers aboard except the instructor, and for families who live together back home,” says Doris Colgate, president. Singles are also welcome, with one cabin going to the instructor and a maximum of three cabins filled by others, whether singles or couples.

“It turned out to be a family adventure rather than just a sailing course,” Julien Grascoeur says of his family’s experience with Club Nautique. “Once COVID-19 is under control, we’ll start expanding our horizons and see where the wind brings us. Isn’t that what sailing is all about, after all?”

As crewed charter client Maureen Fox sees it: “We always wanted to go sailing and have talked about it for decades. The pandemic pushed us to do it. It was time to check this off the bucket list.”

Fox, her husband, and another couple hired a captain and spent the Labor Day holiday sailing Chesapeake Bay with Cruise Annapolis. The weekend trip included an overnight off the town of St. Michaels, Maryland. “The best part of the trip was being back on the boat,” Fox says. “We grilled off the stern, and I was surprised at how easy that was. We watched the sunset and the moonrise. It was so beautiful and quiet. We couldn’t get over the silence. This was a very different experience for us—sailing is really relaxing. We’d do it again.”

Book It!

If there’s any tip for American vacation sailors, it’s this one: Book your charter now, whether near or far. A number of factors contribute to this advice from companies and schools. In the face of the pandemic, companies adjusted policies, usually giving clients a year grace period to rebook, so 2021 is filling up already. Others have offered partial or full refunds.

Read the fine print of your contract and know exactly what you’re paying for, as well as rebooking and reimbursement limits. Stay up to date with quickly changing travel-refund policies offered through credit-card companies and insurance agencies. Cancel for Any Reason policies, or CFAR, which are receiving attention now, carry stiff premiums but eradicate most risk up to 48 hours before scheduled departure.

The Moorings created a Travel with Confidence program, accessible through its website, to educate clients about safety measures, base reopening ­schedules, and refund and rebooking policies. “We’ve been extremely flexible the whole time,” says Josie Tucci, vice president of sales and marketing for Travelopia, owner of the Moorings. “A lot of ­customers are booking into 2021, and availability is limited due to rebooking. With all the policies in place, go ahead, get your vacation booked. Flexibility is key, so don’t wait too long. You can always postpone and change.”

While its partnership with Sailing Florida in St. Petersburg opened up a domestic tropical option for Moorings clients, US customers are still planning getaways in popular and as-yet-off-limits ­destinations such as the British Virgin Islands and other Caribbean locations, as well as in the Bahamas. “There is so much pent-up demand for chartering and travel in general, it doesn’t even matter which Caribbean destination opens up,” says Ian Pedersen, marketing manager at the Moorings. “People gravitate to what is open first. Lack of demand is not a concern for next year; sailors will go, one way or another.”

Funneling some of those bookings are the r­­ecord-breaking numbers of sailing-school students working toward bareboat certification. “When you look at what our clients write, as far as their plans go, nearly all intended to bareboat-charter in no more than two years from the time they graduated,” says Colgate, of Offshore. “Most, within the year.”

Destinations 2021

While Offshore has a full slate of Colgate Sailing Adventures Flotilla Cruises planned into 2021, Dream Yacht Charter is working to keep clients satisfied with expanded domestic and international locations.

In 2019-2020, Dream added to its 60 global ­destinations by taking on partners Navtours and Virgin Islands Yacht Charters. The expanded US footprint includes bases in Burlington, Vermont; Newport, Rhode Island; Annapolis, Maryland; Key West, Key Largo, and Miami, Florida; and St. Thomas in the United States Virgin Islands. Navtours and Dream are also partners at a base in Nassau, Bahamas. “The breadth of our company’s destination portfolio is critical to accommodate rescheduled bookings,” says Dan Lockyer, Dream vice president of global tourism. “Flexibility and clear rescheduling options are going to be key for customers unable to travel as planned due to COVID-19 disruption. We recently surveyed our customers and found continued demand for US-based sailing in 2021, plus much interest in the Caribbean and Bahamas.”

Access to the USVI has definitely helped with demand. “With the BVI being closed, we have definitely had some converts to sailing in the USVI waters,” says Kristi Query of Virgin Islands Yacht Charters. “The US Virgin Islands have always been used as a jumping-off point for the BVI, and charterers rarely take the time to explore here. So many of our guests have come back to the base so excited about their charters, asking, ‘Why have we not done this before?’”

While some companies hint at additional US base openings, like Dream, West Coast Multihulls is ­reaping the benefits of just doing it. ­With its ­headquarters in San Diego, the company recently expanded its Sea of Cortez operations, accessible by car or a two-hour flight from Los Angeles. Options include crewed and bareboat catamaran charters in San Diego and from the Baja California peninsula in Mexico. Bases at Marina Puerto Escondido in Loreto, as well as the new site at Marina Palmira in La Paz, offer Fountaine Pajot and Leopard sailing catamarans. The company also teaches ASA sailing lessons in all locations, specializing in catamaran certifications.

While the three locations have peak seasons, all West Coast Multihulls bases can offer charter and instruction year-round. Custom trips themed around blue whale and gray whale migration ­seasons, ­swimming with whale sharks, surfing, spring wildflower blooming, diving, yoga, and health and wellness spa treatments are available.

For those with a hankering to head offshore from the East Coast, Cruise Abaco offers multiple dates for a 160-nautical-mile Gulf Stream crossing with a licensed captain from Port Canaveral, Florida, to Abaco, Bahamas. ASA instruction and certification on the passage are also available. Dates in November and December 2020 as well as June 2021 are available.

Sorting through the options, it’s important to keep an open mind to the possibilities of SAIL. “We’ve ­experienced one of the best charter seasons we’ve had in over 15 years,” says Cindy Kalow, owner of Superior Charters in Bayfield, Wisconsin. “Our sailing-certification school has trained twice as many people as the previous year, and we’ve experienced a significant number of new customers as they travel from all over the Midwest to come sailing in the Apostle Islands.

“It’s hard to predict what 2021 will bring. Because we are pretty remote—four hours from the nearest major metropolitan area and major airport—we’ve always struggled with getting people to come here. Yet, in summer 2020, a number of new customers returned to sail a second or even third time. Once we get people to experience true wilderness cruising in the Apostle Islands, they want to come back!”

Elaine Lembo is a CW editor at large.

The post Charter Sailing in North America appeared first on Cruising World.

Let’s face it, we could all use a vacation, and what could be better (or more socially distant) than escaping on a sailboat with your family or a few close friends? If a charter vacation is calling your name, but travel restrictions are keeping you close to home, fear not—there are plenty of vacation sailing opportunities that are just a drive (or short domestic flight) away. 

We checked in with charter companies in the Great Lakes, Chesapeake Bay and Southwest Florida to see how summer 2020 is shaping up for them, and what charter guests can expect in this new normal.

“This year is such a head-spinner,” said Cindy Kalow, owner of Superior Charters in Bayfield, Wisconsin. “Wisconsin opened up boat rentals early in May, so we’ve been able to open on schedule. We usually have 60 percent of our season booked up by our season start, in mid-May. This year, we experienced a 54 percent reduction in where we would have been by season launch! On a brighter note, in the last few weeks we’ve seen a significant increase in calls, emails and bookings on our website. We are getting a lot of new customers—many who had trips overseas cancelled or even trips domestically, but didn’t want to fly—who want to drive to a vacation destination. We have families looking for an alternative to more crowded vacation options. People are also not planning very far in advance. We’re experiencing more bookings for the same week or a few weeks out. People are uncertain about the future, but feel they need to get out of the house and do something fun and outdoors.”

Barb Hansen, owner of Southwest Florida Yachts, which offers both sail and power charters from the company’s base in Cape Coral, Florida, agrees: “I talk to a lot of people who say they don’t want to get on a plane. They want to be able to get to their destinations by car. With our location being easily accessible by car or plane and with our miles of beautiful barrier islands, Southwest Florida is a perfect choice for those looking to get away from it all.”

Dream Yacht Charter, which has bases all over the world, has reopened two locations that are both accessible to US sailors. “For the first bases that opened, St. Thomas, in the US Virgin Islands, and Annapolis, Maryland, we were overwhelmed with the demand and bookings are strong. Most of our Caribbean bases are opening in June, if people can get there. We have customers wanting to sail in the British Virgin Islands now, but the borders are opening in September,” said Emily Turner, Dream Yacht Charter’s global marketing and communications manager. 

So what can charter guests expect? Similar restrictions to what you’re already likely getting used to at home. At Superior Charters, in addition to handling all paperwork remotely ahead of time, orientations will be held outside, and all boats will have a minimum of 24 hours of down time between each trip for additional cleaning and sanitizing. 

At Dream Yacht Charters, “guests will notice a difference when they arrive at our bases, when they will be asked to observe our COVID-19 measures,” said Turner. “Only one guest is allowed in the office area and only the skipper will take part in the technical briefing and on the pontoon for check in. Check-in and check-out procedures will be conducted outside where possible. Guests will be asked to wear masks and sanitize hands before any face-to-face interaction. Once on board, guests do not need to take any additional precautions than you would going about your daily business at home right now. Keep washing hands, keep to social distancing when not with members of your immediate household, and respect the local restrictions. We can help with ideas for provisioning and itinerary tips to avoid crowds.”

Hansen adds, “We want to let all of our customers know that we are as committed to offering you a beautiful, clean vessel as we have been for the last 36 years! Our office and our boats are receiving an even higher level of cleaning at this time. So, come and enjoy the sunshine and fresh air!”

Adventures Close to Home

We asked the experts: What makes these sailing destinations spectacular?

Great Lakes

Superior Charters’ location in Bayfield, Wisconsin, is right on Lake Superior and is the gateway to the beautiful Apostle Islands. “Sailing the Apostle Islands has always been a pristine wilderness sailing experience,” Kalow said. “This is THE year for people to experience it as we are always naturally social distancing here. The anchorages are not crowded. The beaches are nearly deserted. The scenery is breathtaking. We call this the ‘Caribbean of the North’ as you’re always sailing within sight of land, in the protection of islands, and the islands are within five to 10 miles of each other. The water is crystal clear and the beaches are rippled sand.”

Chesapeake Bay

The Dream Yacht Charter base is located in beautiful, historic Annapolis. “Chesapeake Bay offers 11,600 miles of coastline, so it is ideal for finding a remote creek or anchorage where you watch wildlife in a truly stunning landscape,” Turner said. “The area is renowned for its welcoming atmosphere, scenery, vibrant history, crabs and bird species. Soak up the local history at Oxford, one of Maryland’s oldest towns with a rich maritime history. Immerse yourself in the beauty of St. Leonard’s Creek on the Patuxent River, or head to the nearby Perigeaux Vineyards. Enjoy peace and quiet at Herrington Harbour, explore the six miles of trails on Wye Island and watch the birds at the Eastern Neck National Wildlife Refuge on the Chester River.”

Southwest Florida

Florida’s southwest coast, on the Gulf of Mexico, is a world away (yet a very reasonable drive) from the busy east coast metro areas of Miami and Fort Lauderdale. “For people who have never cruised in Southwest Florida I would say that they don’t know what they are missing!” Hansen said. “They will definitely be pleasantly surprised by the variety of cruising in our area. There are quiet anchorages, private islands, resorts with all the amenities including pools and beaches, fabulous restaurants, great fishing and more. We customize our clients’ float plans to meet the style of cruising they want. We can book you into a marina every night or you can anchor out your whole charter and never go ashore. Most people do a combination of staying ashore and staying on the hook during their charter whether it is for three days or three weeks!”

Domestic Charter Resources

For domestic and international charter provider listings, visit Cruising World’s Charter Directory

Great Lakes

Superior Charters

Great Lakes Sailing Co.

Chesapeake

Dream Yacht Charters/ Annapolis Bay Charters

Waypoints/ Cruise Annapolis

New England

Bareboat Sailing Charters

Florida

Southwest Florida Yachts

Florida Yachts and Charters

Pacific Northwest

San Juan Sailing

Anacortes Yacht Charters

San Francisco Bay

Club Nautique

The post Domestic Sailing Adventures appeared first on Cruising World.

Our daughter drives us nuts. She knows how much we treasure our summers afloat and then suddenly she tells us she’s expecting her first child in late July. Really? This is the 21st century and she can’t plan any better than that? We’d left the boat four years earlier to get her married off in early August. Now we’re going to interrupt our summer cruise again?

The answer to the last question is, of course, absolutely. We are all in. We’ll just have to figure it out.

We suspect we are not alone in this dilemma. My wife, Jennifer, and I are able to cruise all summer on Catamount, our Caliber 38, because 1. We are retired, and 2. Our two kids live happy and comfortable lives off on their own. We know lots of other grandparent types who deal with births and birthdays during the summer, not to mention figuring out how to get grandkids to local airports and bus stations to join them on their boats. We sailors, after all, love our independence and we love our families. Sometimes you just have to devise ways to reconcile the two.

Jennifer and I live in Vermont but keep our boat in northern Michigan so we can easily access Lake Superior. The Canadian shore of that big, bad lake is remote, dramatic and unpopulated; we can go weeks without seeing another boat. Until we got our daughter’s phone call, we’d counted on our usual summer adventures there. Instead, it looked as though we’d make some significant changes to our float plan.

Before we had gathered enough experience and courage to tackle Lake Superior, we spent several summers cruising nearby Lake Huron’s North Channel and Georgian Bay. It’s really quite a nice area, but we had grown used to the much bigger and wilder Superior. However, for the upcoming summer we’d need access to transportation, cellphone service and the internet, none of which were available off in the wilderness. So we decided that spending the summer revisiting old waypoints and waiting for the phone to ring would have to do.

We were afraid it would be boring, but frankly returning to our old haunts in Lake Huron gave us everything we could hope for: fine sailing, snug anchorages, lovely scenery. And almost every day we swam in warm water, something one rarely finds in the much bigger and deeper Lake Superior. It turned out waiting for a new grandchild reintroduced us to an old friend.

We set off from Cheboygan, Michigan, in mid-June, crossed into Canadian waters at Thessalon, Ontario, to check in with customs, and then ran east to the Turnbull Islands, a cluster of rocky islands and islets just a few miles off the Canadian mainland. There were no other boats in what is a very popular spot. A northwest blow was predicted for the next day, so we hunkered in the lee of the biggest island. The 35-knot winds arrived on schedule at daylight, and we yawed wildly on our anchor and 80 feet of chain in 10 feet of water over mud. In the distance, waves from the open lake thrashed the shoreline. In a lull, I rowed our second anchor out to port, reducing our yaw to a manageable swing. It was one of those bright, sunny, howling days where we didn’t dare do anything but wait it out.

RELATED: Unsalted Island Hopping in the Great Lakes

Pulling the hook the next morning required driving Catamount hard over the rode several times before the mud-encrusted anchor popped free. OK, we said to each other, that was a little more than we expected from a pretty tame cruising area, right?

A telephone call to our daughter reassured us all was well with her in her eighth month so we headed further east. We ran wing-and-wing through the narrow but deep Whalesback Channel to anchor in Middle Cove, a one-boat anchorage well protected from the west winds and with expansive views to the north and east. It was much prettier than we remembered it. We hiked the nearby high hill for some early season blueberry picking and good phone and internet reception, should we need it.

The North Channel is studded with scenic anchorages like that, all just a few miles apart, where you can dodge any weather that might crop up, and in late June and early July still largely empty. We spent days sailing for four or five hours through the islands and out into the open North Channel, then often going right back to the anchorage we had left that morning. On a really adventurous day, we would sail back and forth for six hours and move to an empty anchorage 3 miles away. Or go out for a spinnaker run and return to an anchorage where we had been two days earlier.

But as we proceeded east in early July, we were also now farther from our car. The critical question was whether to go east of Little Current, Ontario, where the North Channel narrows to 50 yards between the Canadian mainland and Manitoulin Island. Beyond lie the inviting waters of Georgian Bay, and that sweet siren indeed beckoned us. But with prevailing westerlies, every day to the east might mean three or four days getting back to our car. Then a sailing friend from the States who had a car in Little Current told us he had to make a run back home. Leaving Jennifer on the boat at the Little Current dock, he and I drove seven hours back to Michigan, then I drove our car seven hours back to the boat. One logistical problem resolved.

With me once again aboard Catamount, we sailed through the Little Current swing bridge and out into northern Georgian Bay. We had not been there for several years (see “Uncharted but Enlivened,” October 2013) and had forgotten what a treat it is to cruise there. With the high white-quartzite hills of the Killarney Range in the background, we ran 7 miles on light west winds down the narrow passage to The Pool and found only two other boats in this amazing spot. We bushwhacked up high for the views down to our boat and the wilderness beyond, then skinny-dipped in nearby Topaz Lake.

RELATED: Canal Cruising, Canadian Style

A lovely east wind the next day let us run right back out to the open bay, where we checked in once more by phone — uh-oh, a little problem for mom and the baby. Nothing to be alarmed about, the doctors said, but with two weeks to go, they wanted our daughter to check in every day instead of once a week. She sounded pretty cool about it all, considering it was her first child and she had tried so hard to get this far, but we were nervous. Keep sailing, our daughter said, and call again tomorrow, that is if we could get coverage.

So we sailed in circles for a few more days, not too far from our car in Little Current, but hitting a different anchorage every night, where we could either row out to open water or climb a hill to check in. Our typical conversations: Where do you want to go today? The wind is good for Fraser Bay. Gosh, I don’t remember ever seeing a better sunset from this spot. Oops, now it’s hard out of the south. OK, how about Boyle’s Cove with its high cliffs. Look at that loon family, with the chick on mom’s back. Squalls tomorrow? Let’s go hide in Covered Portage, a ­top-10-in-the-whole-world anchorage. All of these options lay within a 5-mile radius.

After three days, our daughter reported that the doctors said not to worry. All was well and back on schedule.

So now what? We didn’t want to be worrywarts and get to our daughter’s too soon, and frankly the sailing had been just terrific. So with 10 days to go and our daughter and the baby fine, we struck out even farther east across northern Georgian Bay to the Bad River, where on a dinghy trip upstream, we watched a black bear tear into a rock ledge looking for ants for lunch. In Northeast Harbour in the nearby Bustard Islands, we heard a weather forecast for squalls to our south but missed the fact they were headed our way; we got whacked hard at anchor for an hour but were rewarded with a glorious setting sun to the west and a rainbow to the east. Wow. We were so glad our daughter had given us leave to keep sailing.

Finally, though, it was time to head back west toward our car. The north winds were perfect for a long beat in light seas, and we had 30 miles of sun-dappled wavelets at 6 knots SOG. Our daughter’s due date was now the next day; we were in good shape.

Six days later, the baby still hadn’t decided if he or she was going to go anywhere. So, in the meantime, we had still more circles to sail. We settled in Browning Cove for the fishing; in Oak Bay for a night; then Eagle Harbour for a beer with old friends; Oak Bay once more; then Eagle again to duck another blow. These are all great anchorages, but we’d had enough. We decided to start driving whether the baby was ready or not. We got a berth at the marina in Gore Bay, Ontario, then hitchhiked 60 miles back to our car in Little Current. Three short rides, including one with a driver who felt badly for two thumbing oldsters, made it very smooth traveling — this was Canada after all. And then, we were off.

One day into our drive and eight days after the due date, our daughter delivered by cesarean section a handsome, healthy boy. All was well. We arrived the next day, helped everyone move back home, ogled and cuddled, made meals, and took a thousand pictures. Then, as many grandparents know, we were dismissed.

We took a long drive back to Michigan, a small charter plane back to our boat in Gore Bay, and we were back on Catamount for the rest of the summer.

We now look at North Channel and Georgian Bay differently. After all those summers up on Lake Superior, we had forgotten just how attractive this cruising ground is. Charming towns, lots of anchorages, terrific scenery, warm water, challenging sailing.

How challenging? Well, remember that anchorage in the Turnbull Islands where we safely rode out an all-day blow back in the early summer? On our way back west to Michigan in September, we stopped there again and anchored in the same spot in 10 knots of wind. I rowed off in the dinghy to fish but was quickly summoned back by Jennifer because Catamount was dragging. One day you are safe in a howling anchorage, the next time there you drag in hardly any wind at all. As Forrest Gump noted, “My mama always said life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.”

It turns out, the North Channel and Georgian Bay were our box of chocolates: full of surprises and delights, the best of all the arrival of our grandson. Waiting for him brought us back to our sailing roots. Now we just have to figure out how to get him up there to join us as crew.

Jennifer and Fred Bagley live in Vermont but have sailed the Great Lakes for many seasons, out of Cheboygan, Michigan.

The post Sailing Lake Huron’s Northern Shores appeared first on Cruising World.

Effortless broad reaching, a dip in refreshing waters, cocktails in the cockpit, reunions with family and friends, a chance to learn a new onboard skill — those are the reasons vacation sailors say they return year after year to their bareboat company of choice.

But why do the owners and operators of these companies do it? Aside from the obvious reason — it’s a way to earn a living — running a charter company isn’t magic. It’s work. Or, “a labor of love,” as one put it.

A roundup of a dozen successful small bareboat charter companies, some of them family-owned and in business for decades, reveals why they got in and how they stay in the game. Companies also explain how their approach helps them shape and ­prioritize their business goals, and what the challenges are, as well as the opportunities — from operating in the virtual sphere of digital technology to minding the fleet in the flesh by walking the docks and sending sailors out in divergent, if gorgeous, ­cruising grounds.

Origins/Motives/Genesis

Fresh from careers in hotel management and banking, Cindy Chestnut and Brian Gandey knew what they sought when they started Conch Charters at Fort Burt Marina on the island of Tortola, in the British Virgin Islands, in 1987.

“We always wanted to be a small company,” Chestnut says. “And it was also a conscious choice to locate Conch Charters at a sailor’s marina rather than a fancy marina. We went for a location that allowed us to pass the savings on to our customers. And our customers seem to appreciate that more than having a swimming pool.”

What Gandey and Chestnut carried out, parlaying skills learned in one industry to do well in another, also worked for others.

Merion and Jennifer Martin run a mixed fleet of 25 power- and sailboats at Desolation Sound Yacht Charters in Comox, British Columbia, Canada. “Having worked in the superyacht industry in Europe and the Caribbean charter circuit for years has given us the experience to know what people expect and how to exceed their expectations,” Jennifer says.

Dave Conrad, of Great Lakes Sailing Co. in Traverse City, Michigan, says he and his wife, Kristen, met while he was managing a charter base in the Caribbean. Together, the couple worked aboard crewed yachts before buying the Traverse City 20-strong fleet of sail- and powerboats.

“Our success is a direct result of our hands-on approach to running the company,” Conrad says. “In the early days, we had little to no staff. We commissioned over 20 boats every year. We painted every bottom, did all the rigging, repairs and maintenance, and answered every phone call ourselves. We worked boat shows together even when Kristen was eight months pregnant.”

Some sailors got into the business so they could immerse themselves in a beloved pastime. “We started 40 years ago with one boat, as a way to help pay for it,” says Roger Van Dyken, of San Juan Sailing in Bellingham, Washington. “It turned into a hobby, then a pleasurable activity, and then, when we formed the business, it became an enjoyable enterprise.”

As Patti Gonsalves, of Cruise Abaco in the Bahamas, puts it, “We started the company with our own personal boat, grew to three, and just kept growing.”

For Brian Blank, of Newport, Rhode Island, this “labor of love” arose from a brush with America’s Cup fame. “I was working a summer job in 1977 at Bannister’s Wharf and became part of the dock crew for Ted Turner and Courageous,” Blank recalls. “Most fun I’ve ever had! I guess I just fell into the boating lifestyle and adventures. I ended up buying my first 38-foot sailboat for charter in 1985 and have never looked back!” His Bareboat Sailing Charters 15-member fleet floats on moorings in Brenton Cove, in Newport Harbor.

Know Your Niche, and Set Priorities

Serendipity didn’t play a major role in Kurt Jerman’s business plans when he opened the charter portion of West Coast Multihulls in 2011 in San Diego, but ­understanding the market did.

“There have always been plenty of schools and charter locations in the Southeastern United States, the Bahamas and the Caribbean,” he says. “The key for us has been to fill a void in the market here on the West Coast with catamaran ­instruction and charters.”

A few local sailing clubs dabbled in catamarans, Jerman says, “but none really knew that much about the boats, or the catamaran business as a whole. As a retail outlet for multiple catamaran manufacturers, my company had been importing cats to the West Coast since 1999.”

With an emphasis on teaching and ­certifying aspiring cat sailors, the business has gone from a two-boat, one-base center to a 10-boat, two-base concern, with a fleet of 10 privately owned cats from 35 to 58 feet in length. The new base, opened in high season 2018, is at Puerto Escondido, in the city of Loreto, Baja California Sur, Mexico, off the Sea of Cortez.

If charter is the “try before you buy” gateway to informed ownership, West Coast Multihulls has a fraternal East Coast twin. Over 25 years in existence, Maine Cat, of Bremen, Maine, has built 140 of its fast, light sail and power catamaran models in a range of lengths to an enthusiastic clientele. Its focus is on boatbuilding and direct sales to customers.

“When people say, ‘Let’s go charter a boat,’ Maine Cat is not the first company that comes to mind,” says owner Dick Vermeulen. “If you want to go sailing, we’re not the typical charter boat — our cats are performance cruisers.

“Our focus is not chartering. Having said that, our base in the Bahamas allows people to try one of our models and see if they like it.” The company’s base in Abaco, Bahamas, and its one-cat charter availability from Rockland, Maine, are live showrooms, and typically fully booked.

While charter is a valid means for sailors and aspiring sailors to transition to ownership, the critical stage of instruction can’t be overlooked, and that too has long been an ingredient of the recipe for success for West Coast Multihulls, Maine Cat and countless other charter outfits. Schools offer certification through custom curriculums or through organizations such as the American Sailing Association and US Sailing.

“We have been an ASA school since 1985 — one of the oldest still around,” says Barb Hansen, of Southwest Florida Yachts. “We see even more of a need for instruction now as the baby boomers get close to retirement. They now have the means to buy a boat, but might not have the skills.”

And Hansen, faced with countless aspiring owners, feels obligated to assess their needs. “When people come and ask me to help them find a boat to buy, I ask them what their experience is,” she says. “If they have none, I strongly suggest they go through our classes first. I tell them, ‘I would be happy to sell you a boat, but you would be buying a boat without the proper knowledge or experience.’ As with anything else, an informed buyer is going to be a better owner.”

Other companies, such as South Coast Sailing Adventures in Kemah, Texas, near Galveston Bay, remain dedicated and focused on instruction. “Our sailing school is the core of our business,” says owner Lucy Newman. “We strive to train competent and knowledgeable sailors, with a focus on safety and courtesy, while still having fun. We strongly believe that safe boating is achieved through education.”

With a view to longevity, Cindy Kalow, of Superior Charters in Bayfield, Wisconsin, adds, “Instruction is now paramount to our ability to maintain a fresh customer base and create future sailors. We would not still be in business if we didn’t have a training/certification arm to our business.”

Challenges and Opportunities

Fleet maturity is a challenge that some smaller charter companies have had to deal with, and some have had an unprecedented hurricane season transform their business plan.

“The image of us having older boats is one we’ve been working hard to alter; our oldest boats are now 7 or 8 years old,” says Chestnut, of Conch Charters, of a fleet that grew to 56 a few years back. “Of course, hurricanes Irma and Maria in September 2017 affected that.”

As Conch rallied to get under way in time for charters in high season 2018 with a dozen boats, Chestnut says, “We never anticipated that we’d be at this juncture at this point. We want to continue to rebuild — it’s Conch Charters. It’s our baby. We don’t want to see it go poof! We’re coming back.”

Mother Nature isn’t the only force at play. “The market has changed,” says Kalow. “People no longer participate in just a few hobbies or activities. In the past, people would label themselves a sailor or a golfer. Our younger customer base is very active and has a lot of interests. We continually work to tap into new markets and customers who are looking for new and different experiences. You have to keep your product fresh, understand what you offer and stay sharp on how you present that offering.”

Then there’s the effort you put out.

“We have worked our tails off for nearly 35 years,” says Hansen. “I’m still here seven days (and nights) a week, with the occasional day off. If you don’t have that passion for your business, then you won’t succeed. You have to believe in what you do and then try to do the best job you can do.”

Rapid advances in digital technology have also had a major impact, and present new possibilities. “The sharing economy has opened up people’s eyes to unique lodging opportunities, and being based in San Diego makes it easy for us to offer Cruise-N-Snooze charter stays on the boat, like Airbnb on the water with a sunset cruise thrown in,” Jerman says. “That might have been hard to explain before, but now people just get it.”

Adds Chestnut, “People are more easily reached and found. Our reservation system is online. We put an e-tablet on each boat with the chart briefing and all charts and a nav system, as well as fun facts like plants and fish they might encounter. We have a checklist of each yacht’s systems. If charterers have a problem while they’re out, they can take a picture and send it to us via a text or email.”

It’s Magic — or Is It?

Company owners enjoy describing the ineffable twist to attracting repeat clientele.

“We retrieve lost luggage and deliver it, grab the bag of ice they forgot, pick up their trash on the water if they missed the drop-off in a settlement,” says Gonsalves, of Cruise Abaco. “When the owner of the company is the one who you see on the dock and on the water, you know you’re being taken care of. No request is impossible!”

“We make sure the client gets what he or she paid for — a fantastic time on the ­water,” Jerman says. “There’s a risk in making things overcomplicated.”

Resilience in the face of setbacks such as hurricanes also scores big with sailors. “At the end of the day, it’s all about attention to detail and giving people a little bit more than they expect — a beach bag, a bottle of rum,” says Chestnut. “One client has been chartering with us for 27 years for two weeks a year. They ask us if they can bring anything down. They’ve brought us starter motors for cars, maple syrup. That’s what makes our company nice. It’s like a family.”

It helps that, by and large, a charter trip is a happy experience. “Our customers are on vacation!” Hansen says. “It’s not like they are going in for a root canal. We love that we are often fulfilling a dream for someone or we are helping them plan the trip of a lifetime!”

It works at San Juan Sailing too. “Our staff derives sheer joy from helping people have joy — period,” Van Dyken says. “Nothing beats passionate, selfless service.”

Blank, of Bareboat Sailing, sticks to this philosophy: “Keep your customers happy, and they will always come back.”

Elaine Lembo is a CW editor at large.

The post Looking for a more personal touch on your next sailing vacation? Try booking with a mom-and-pop company. appeared first on Cruising World.

The popular Unsalted Sailing Flotilla returns in summer 2017 to the cruising grounds of northern Lake Michigan. Set out from Traverse City, and cruise to dozens of islands, harbor towns and anchorages in an area whose range is nearly comparable sizewise to the combined British and U.S. Virgin Islands.

Options for joining the seven-day adventure include booking by cabin, taking the trip as a coastal cruising course, chartering one of the company’s fleet either as a bareboat or with a captain, or following along aboard your own boat.

The flotilla is guided by a lead crew that assists in organizing activities and the itinerary, which includes wine tasting, nature hikes, an informal race and frequent opportunities for participants to explore on their own. Expect sandy beaches, easy anchorages, and towns with bike and paddleboard rentals, as well as good restaurants.

For exact dates and other details, contact the company (www.greatlakessailingco.com).

The post Sweet-Water Sailing on the Great Lakes appeared first on Cruising World.

We wondered what Joshua Slocum would have replied to the questions put to us by Great Lakes Cruising Club member Jim Wooll on the dock in Little Current, Ontario: “Where are you headed?” (Somewhere in northern Georgian Bay was our plan.)

“Have you ever been into West Desjardin Bay?” he asked. (We’d never heard of it.)

“It’s a white area; no soundings on the chart. Want to join us?” (Hmm …)

Now my wife, Jennifer, and I have had our share of encounters with Georgian Bay rock; bits and pieces of the keel on Catamount, our Caliber 38, still decorate the bottom here and there. And those were in charted areas. Jim was inviting us to follow him into Lake Huron’s unknown.

Would Joshua have gone? Having just finished rereading Sailing Alone Around the World, I found his answer on the final page: “To find one’s way to lands already discovered is a good thing.” That was good enough for us. We told Jim we’d follow him.

Northern Georgian Bay consists of 4-billion-year-old granite that was shoved vertically by tectonic forces, then eroded by glaciers into hundreds of parallel ridges that run for miles out into the bay itself. Find a way into their sheltered waters, and you’re in paradise. Get lost as you try, and you will need a new keel, rudder or worse.

The first European to visit the area was Samuel de Champlain, who paddled down what is now called the French River in 1615; he knew where he was only because he had Indian guides. He was followed by the French voyageurs as they headed west looking for beaver pelts; they knew where they were because Champlain had an astrolabe and made passable maps. Generations of fishermen and steamer captains knew where they were because the British Navy mapped the Bay in the 1820s using sextants, chronometers and lead lines.

The Canadian Hydrographic Service has improved on the old British charts over the years, using sonar, aerial surveys and most recently satellite images, but a large part of northern Georgian Bay has never been sounded. The water in dozens of inlets and bays, some of them very large, is simply colored white or blue on the charts based on the cartographer’s interpretation of those aerial photos. White water might be safe and blue water probably isn’t, but no soundings have ever been done. These are Georgian Bay’s white areas, the only uncharted water in the entire Great Lakes system.

But Jim’s been there, armed with his handheld depth finder and a GPS-enabled iPad loaded with CHS charts. He and his wife, Bobbie, have sounded many if not all of the Bay’s white areas over the years for the cruising club, sharing their data with GLCC members like ourselves.

Sailing east from Little Current, we followed Jim and Bobbie on their Island Packet 36, Reverie, as they dodged shoals and islets on the charted areas of the northern bay. Then we said a silent prayer as we followed them into our first uncharted white area. The west wind pushed us faster than was comfortable for us, so we took in our main, but they marched ahead wing and wing. Reverie disappeared behind a maze of identical-looking islands to drop anchor in unsounded West Desjardin Bay as we circled warily offshore, waiting for Jim to come out in his dinghy to guide us in.

We were hooked. The next day we met up with Ron Dwelle, the longtime editor of the GLCC’s cruising guide for club members. He and his wife, Jo, have also explored the white areas on their Niagara 35, Annwfn. (Their boat name is Welsh, pronounced en-NU-ven, which we suspect means skinny water).

We followed Ron farther east for 20 miles, reaching leisurely in light westerlies, then rounded up into the sounded channel of the French River. Then Ron took a right into another white area. Gulp. Hard on Annwfn‘s stern, we turned to starboard past a rocky islet, then starboard again past an unseen ledge, then back to port past two tiny islets the aerial survey photos had missed, then past two more unseen rocks and voilà, we were back on the chart soundings.

Even then we weren’t home free. Chart errors persist in the sounded areas in spite of the best efforts of the CHS. Our chart plotter, which knew exactly where we were on the Earth’s surface, frequently showed us sailing through a peninsula or sitting in the middle of an island.

After a series of hairpin turns we followed Annwfn into Beacon Rock Bay. Ron had never been there, so with Jo as his bow watch and Catamount trailing behind like a meek child, he meandered back and forth, tried one potential anchorage, passed up another and finally declared the water was too rough to proceed farther.

We sailed out to a safe anchorage and joined Ron and Jo for dinner. Ron whipped out his iPad and then, zooming in and out, scrolling north and south, he showed how he had taken CHS charts and plugged in Jim Wooll’s soundings for the GLCC. Ron also gave us a DVD with the latest GLCC information for our computer.

Since they were planning to go up into vast and uncharted Fox Bay, we assumed they had been there before. Indeed they had — only once, 20 years ago. And they had left more than paint on a rock; they tore off the rudder of a previous boat when they grounded. Then they announced they had to head farther east for provisions. “You go on ahead,” Ron said airily between bites. “Just follow Jim’s soundings on the GLCC chart,” he said, “you’ll be fine” — this from a man who lost his rudder there.

We scribbled down all the notes we could and rowed back to Catamount after dinner to compare the CHS chart white area with the GLCC notes from Ron. We were as ready to go on our own as we would ever be.

The next day was flat calm as a midsummer high settled overhead. It was crummy weather for sailing but perfect for exploring. We followed the CHS soundings to the entrance of 4-mile-long Fox Bay and turned north. With the CHS chart in one hand and the GLCC notes in another, I stood on the bow and navigated for Jennifer at the helm, taking us into our first white area.

It was a good day for water clarity, maybe three feet visibility since Fox Bay does not have as big a watershed as some other areas. We crept up the east shore of the bay, noting several rocks and islets that the CHS aerial survey had missed. We held our breath as the depth meter went from 44 feet to 12 and back to 26. So many islands! Where was Jim’s channel? We turned cautiously into a small indent 2 miles up the east shore and dropped the hook in 18 feet of water.

In an hour of sounding the anchorage from our dinghy we found a 5-foot-deep area too close for comfort, though the water was too dark for us to see the bottom. Rock? Muck? We couldn’t tell. The forecast was for thunderstorms so we re-anchored, then strung lines off our stern to shore, spider-webbing ourselves into place.

Our only visitors that night were two canoeists exploring the old voyageur routes and a black bear swimming across the cove. Loons warbled at sunset, followed after dark by whippoorwills. At dawn, a sandhill crane bugled a coarse rendition of reveille. Otherwise, nothing. Just silence. Paradise redux.

The next day we explored the rest of Fox Bay by dinghy. There are dozens of steep-sided islands (so many they have numbers, not names) and hundreds of rocky islets. No houses, no motorboats, no people and, oh yes, no soundings.

Ron and Jo joined us for the second night, inching their way into our anchorage. They congratulated us, and maybe felt just a bit better themselves as they displaced the memory of that damaged rudder from their previous excursion into the bay. Ron brought a fresh supply of worms and helped me land a 4-pound smallmouth bass off Catamount‘s stern.

As we shared a fish dinner and a chilled bottle of Ontario chardonnay, we toasted the white areas. Our adventure here wound down much as our trip had begun: with questions. Had the CHS done us a favor by not sounding all of northern Georgian Bay? Should Jim and Ron even share their data with other GLCC members? Should we explore nearby uncharted Sandy Bay? Or uncharted Whistler Bay? Should there still be uncharted areas you have to explore by yourself, even if your keel or rudder is at risk?

Every cruising sailor will have his and her own answer. Joshua Slocum’s answer was to carry detailed British Admiralty charts for his circumnavigation. We weren’t taking Catamount around the world; our cruise into Georgian Bay’s white area was decidedly more modest. Call us chicken, call us soft, but we were glad Jim and Ron, armed with their depth finders and GPS-enabled iPads, had been there first.

Vermont sailor Fred Bagley and his wife, Jennifer, are frequent visitors to the Great Lakes’ wide array of cruising grounds.

The post Uncharted on the Great Lakes appeared first on Cruising World.

It was a noise unlike any we had ever heard on our boat. It was well after midnight, and the sound was like a classroom of schoolchildren madly scraping their fingernails on a blackboard. Instantly we were awake, and we realized our boat was moving hard to port. Then our motion stopped with a massive thunk.

Clouds obscured the quarter-moon as we staggered to the cockpit. We were clearly still floating, and we could see we were pretty much where we had anchored the evening before, but there were now two-foot waves smacking our bow.

Welcome back to the Apostle Islands, we said to each other. Clearly we had not learned our lesson from our previous visit. Even worse, we wondered why we had bothered to come back at all.

My wife, Jennifer, and I sail our Caliber 38, Catamount, out of northern Michigan and spend our summers on Lake Superior. We had been to the Apostles once before, and ­frankly, we were not impressed. The islands are touted as one of the premier cruising grounds in the country, with reliable winds and ­accessible wilderness in the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore. But we had found lots of crowds and mostly round islands with virtually no protection. Swells rocked us mercilessly all night, ­every night. Midnight wind shifts resulted in a mess of boats hauling anchor and moving to the other side of the island or the lee of an island nearby, neither of which was really any better. We vowed we would never come back.

We preferred the remote and dramatic Canadian shore of Lake Superior, but the previous year we’d ended our summer in ­Duluth, Minnesota, at the westernmost end of the lake, and were now working our way back east. Since the Canadian shore was just barely thawed out after a very cold winter, we reluctantly decided to spend a few days back in the Apostle Islands, on the south shore. It would be warmer there, we could get last-minute chores done, and we needed to buy Leinenkugel’s beer, which is brewed in Wisconsin and one of our summer staples when we can find it.

Long home to Native Americans, the Apostles were first visited by French ­Jesuit priests in the 1670s; they thought there were 12 islands — hence the name — but actually there are 22. Subsequent centuries saw the islands logged, farmed, quarried, fished and finally opened to tourism. The ­Apostle Islands National Lakeshore was ­created in 1970, when the National Park Service ­acquired 21 of the islands and started the process of letting them revert to wilderness.

On our first day out of Duluth, we reached on lovely southwest winds for more than 50 miles and anchored in the lee of Sand ­Island, the westernmost in the group. A nice sunset was the perfect backdrop for cold chardonnay, guacamole, and steaks on the grill. As we crawled into bed for the night, we wondered if we had been wrong about this place. Then came the noise. The wind had suddenly swung to the northeast. The school­children scraping the blackboard was our anchor chain rolling across small ­rubble that lay under a thin layer of sand; the thunk was ­Catamount fetching up hard at the end of our swing. What a crummy start in an area we hadn’t wanted to visit in the first place.

But then, slowly, the Apostles started to work their spell on us. After a few hours, the wind backed to the northwest and the seas went flat. In the morning, we launched our dinghy and ­explored the north end of Sand Island, where Superior’s incessant pounding had carved out sea caves in the sandstone cliffs, just big enough to row our dinghy into. We marveled at the intricately sculpted pillars and arches, the variegated colors of the stone, the ferns growing downward from the ceilings.

Jennifer and I sailed into the heart of the ­islands later that day, settling in at popular Stockton Island, where sailboats outnumbered powerboats in the ­anchorage by almost 10 to one. Blessedly, the Park Service has banned personal watercraft everywhere in the national lakeshore. Stockton Island has miles of white sand beaches in ­Quarry, ­Julian and Presque Isle bays. Hiking trails meander through cranberry bogs and pine forests, then break out to commanding views from open headlands. We hoped (sort of) that we would encounter one of the many black bears that inhabit every one of the islands, but we only saw tracks. In all our hikes on trails and on beaches, we never saw a single piece of trash or even any flotsam. It did indeed feel like wilderness.

Stockton Island also reminded us of what it’s like to anchor over hard, rippled sand. In our more familiar waters on the ­Canadian side, we never see our anchor hit bottom (the water is just too dark), and we are never sure what the anchor grips onto. In the Apostles, we could watch our anchor drop 20 feet through the gin-clear water, sploosh onto the sand, and sink its flukes to engage Mother Earth. Then we could watch the chain pay out, snub it off at 60 feet, and know that Catamount wasn’t going anywhere with that grip. We reminded ourselves that we hadn’t dragged even on the first night, when we were caught by the sudden wind shift at Sand Island.

One morning we hiked to an old quarry on Stockton. After the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, the call went out for a more durable building material, and the sandstone of the Apostles (dubbed brownstone at the time) seemed the perfect solution. Boatload after boatload of Apostle Island sandstone went down to ­Chicago to help rebuild the ravaged city.

We beat in light air farther east to remote Michigan Island, where the Park Service had just reopened the 1857 lighthouse after a million-dollar restoration. It’s a short walk from the dock up to the lighthouse grounds, where volunteer keepers interrupted their dinner to give us a tour. Then we huffed and puffed our way up 127 steps to the top of the “new” 1929 tower, where the Coast Guard still maintains a light. The 360-degree view was stunning.

When it was time to pump Catamount’s holding tank and get more beer, it was off to Bayfield, Wisconsin, the epicenter of Apostle Island sailing and dubbed the “Best Little Village in the Midwest” by the Chicago Tribune. Bayfield is a crunchy spot with great 19th-century architecture, locally roasted coffee and Leinenkugel’s on tap. Tucked into the town marina, we were a block from the ferry terminal out to bustling Madeline Island (the only Apostle not in the national lakeshore) and within easy walking distance of supplies, including freshly caught whitefish off a fishing boat run by two local women. Locals suggested breakfast at Greunke’s, which has been hosting travelers since 1866. Its ceilings are low and plastered with Life magazine covers, and its walls are covered with ­memorabilia and photos dating back to the ’20s. Although I passed on the house specialty of sauteed whitefish livers, I did justice to the biscuits and gravy. The biscuits were the size of saucers and the gravy tough on my coronaries, but I am proud to say I didn’t need a doggy bag. Jennifer had oatmeal and grinned at my excess.

We discovered we had arrived at the start of the ­annual Bayfield Race Week. Everything from 27-foot ­family ­cruisers to a 50-foot Nelson/Marek was on the water in seven ­classes. The kickoff event is the Around the Islands Race, a clockwise race of about 80 miles that can take 36 hours to complete, though this year the race was shortened due to anticipated light air.

Hoping to catch some of the opening-day action, we motored out to Devil’s Island, the farthest north of the Apostles. Knowing the huge race fleet would take a while to get there, we let ­Catamount float on the flat waters while we rowed our dinghy the length of the island’s sea caves. Even without wind, there was enough motion in the caves to give a quiet glooping sound to add to the eeriness. The caves here lack the subtlety and grace of their smaller Sand Island cousins, but they extend for ­nearly a mile and are simply awe-inspiring. Watched over by an 1891 light tower, the Devil’s Island caves are the signature image of the Apostles’ storm-battered coast.

As we rounded the northwest side of the island near dusk, we saw the race fleet headed our way, but the light air had become no air. We stayed well off to the side as the boats crawled past the caves, with not a sound from any of the crews or a single ­motion that might upset their balance. With 50 miles still to go, it was ­going to be a long night for the racers. Conditions improved, though, and three days later, on a different 12-mile windward/leeward course, we saw the same boats flying spinnakers in 20 knots of wind on a madcap dash to the finish line off downtown Bayfield.

For two nights we settled on the north side of Oak Island, where we hiked up its 200-foot-high sand bluff to look out over the ­islands and the open lake. Several of the outer islands ­slowly dissolved into a fog bank, and we almost needed radar on the dinghy to find Catamount when we rowed back. But as the wind pushed the fog to the east, we were surrounded in the ­cockpit by our own personal rainbow — a “fogbow,” if you like — that started on our bow and ended on our stern.

Lake Superior’s average summer water temperature is a killer 49 degrees, but at Oak Island we swam off the boat in June. Local mariners assured us that by August the water is downright toasty. No way that ever happens on the Canadian shore.

It’s clear why sailboats rule here. Sailors can haul anchor, set out for the day, be fairly assured of good winds, sail to their heart’s content, and use their dinghy-racing skills to tack and jibe and kite their way through all the narrow channels. Underwater obstructions are rare, and what is there is almost always sand. Then, at the end of the day, they can check the forecast, call their buddies, and pick an anchorage that (usually) works for the night.

OK, full disclosure here: We did have to move once in the ­middle of the night. While we were parked on the east side of Raspberry Island, after a visit to its 1863 lighthouse and a chat with the very knowledgeable park ranger, the wind veered straight down on us well after dark. So we had to raise anchor and work our way back to Stockton Island’s Quarry Bay. But you know what? The moon was full, it was warm, we were by ourselves, and there was nothing to hit.

We also discovered one other advantage to anchoring in the Apostles. Because there are no hidey-holes and no fully ­protected harbors, every anchorage has a view, whether it’s of the sunset, the sunrise, the next wilderness island or out onto the vast expanse of Lake Superior itself.

We had planned to stay in the Apostles only a few days ­before heading for Canada; we wound up staying nearly two weeks. ­Occasional anchoring issues now seem trivial. We were impressed by the sailing opportunities: good winds, great views, ­attractive little Bayfield, historic lighthouses, sea caves and hundreds of like-minded sailors, all in a wilderness setting. We had ­clearly been wrong the first time. Aside from that first night with the blackboard-­scraping schoolchildren, we loved every minute of our visit.

So mea culpa, Apostle Islands. You deserve all those accolades.

Fred and Jennifer Bagley live in Vermont and sail Catamount on the Great Lakes every summer.

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