| Travels of Dursmirg Vol. 1 Chapter 4 |
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CHAPTER 4 UNDER ITS OWN POWER
July 29th, 1972
On a hot summer’s afternoon at Drills marina up the Saint Louis River on the Wisconsin-Minnesota border and as
far west as any boat can go on the Saint Lawrence waterway we started our engine.
We cast off the lines, put the shift lever forward and felt the boat make its first move under its own power. Though
this craft wasn’t completely put together yet our determination to get under way overpowered us and drove us to
finish many of the last details as we traveled
as one person in the bilge manually shifted the transmission while another person activated the throttle as I gave the
horn had failed. With screams and shouts the bridge tender opened the bridge…a few whacks with the winch handle
feel and respond? At the Arrowhead Bridge, our first one to open on our way, we discovered that our Spartan air
horn had failed. With screams and shouts the bridge tender opened the bridge…a few whacks with the winch handle
from one end of the harbor to the other.
and our air horn was back in service. The feeling of escape was overwhelming as we powered the fourteen miles
from one end of the harbor to the other.
Our destination that night was the Duluth Power Squadron dock in Allouez Bay just inside the Superior, Wisconsin
entry. The entry is two thousand five hundred feet wide and would be our departure point the next morning. A
heavy fog like soup set in almost instantly as we were in the busiest part of the shipping channel. Jane was on the
button with her navigation skills tuned by five years of study. In class, whenever the instructor didn’t know the
answer the classmates always turned their eyes to Jane, she knew. With speed, direction and position Jane guided
us right to our dockside spot, very impressive indeed! Yes she is the best…my partner.
We were still tied to the world and would be for some time to come with our dependency on shore side electric
power. Well, we got plugged in and home was home again.
The galley stove wasn’t hooked up yet so we were using a portable camping stove. And we discovered just how
dangerous they could be on a boat when it burst into flames and Jane had to pitch it onto the dock where we could
deal with the problem without destroying our boat. We soon corrected this problem and over the years have had a
variety of different cooking stoves.
It was a quiet night and we were up early with the sun and headed out into the big lake, “Superior” where first we
swung the compass. This is a process of turning the vessel on different headings and making a table of corrections
for each of those headings using a fixed position and a device to take bearings from a known position, usually on
shore. This may sound complicated but that is part of what we went to school to learn and this information is
imperative when plotting our compass course. To our surprise the deviation on some headings was as high as 40
degrees. Because this hull had had extensive welding on it the residual magnetism in the hull affected our compass
headings and as time passed and the hull magnetism diminished and changed so we would have to repeat this
process many times.
Next the sails went up, it was an almost calm morning but some light puffs of wind came along. We watched
expectantly as the sails first filled, then the vessel heeled over slightly and the bow of the boat fell off from the wind
direction and we experienced a quiet but gentle surge as our creation gained a life of its own. We were silently
gliding off on the beginning of a voyage of a lifetime.
That afternoon late we pulled into the very small harbor at Cornucopia, Wisconsin and ran aground. We just stayed
in that spot and connected our electric so we were home with all of the conveniences. Even though our vessel was
twenty tons, we merely turned it by hand when we were ready to go as maneuvering in these close quarters would
be more than challenging with my lack of experience with this new toy. We soon became extremely proficient with
maneuvering in heavy winds and strong currents and you will just have to read on to see how this adventure unfolds.
July 30th, 1972
The next morning we were soon amongst the Apostle Islands and they seemed confining as compared to our
previous day in the wide openness of the largest freshwater lake in the world. We even encountered a large lake
freighter carrying iron ore there amongst the Apostles. One thing about the lake is that almost always there is plenty
of water under your keel as it is deep and also very cold. I always used to joke that it wasn’t the sharks that would
get you in Lake Superior but it was the cold water. Offshore even in summer the water temperature would be less
than thirty-four degrees. It is said that if you were young, well rested and in good shape that your life expectancy in
those frozen waters was less than twenty minutes. Hypothermia will get you, not the sharks. No refrigeration was
needed either; you could merely place anything you wanted kept cool in the bilge.
As we sailed up past the downtown of Bayfield there was a welcoming for us. This was more than a surprise as our
friend George Deline was on a friend’s boat that came at us with all of its sails full on a collision course and just
before the point of impact he popped his spinnaker. (A spinnaker is a large sail deployed off the bow that is usually
only used in a very light wind conditions…and they are very unwieldy even for experienced sailors.) Well, they surely
got our attention as they brushed within an inch or two of us at top speed.
It might be funny now but at that moment we were sure we would be headed to the bottom directly. We had gotten to
know many people here over the years, as this was a regular place for us to visit even before we started our sailing
experiences.
We next pulled into the small harbor at Port Superior Village where our friends Jerry and Bonnie Peterson were the
managers of that marina. For the next two weeks we again worked hard on our new vessel to make it fit for our long
voyage that lay ahead of us.
We took out several groups of friends on short sailing trips amongst the Apostle Islands. On one overnight trip to
Outer Island, which is about thirty-five miles distant from the marina, we had three friends, Dale Nichols, Jon Moin
and Dennis Bradley aboard. Dennis was the only one of the friends that was a real sailor. We had one other
passenger and that was our friend Jerry Peterson’s big golden retriever, which we were baby-sitting for the
weekend. Jane and I had purchased a keg of beer, which connected directly to a spigot in the galley so all were
welcome to partake of all they wanted. They all did and long into that night as we anchored just off Otter Island,
which is protected from bad weather by an adjacent island, named Cat. As soon as we were close to shore Jerry
Peterson’s dog jumped off our main deck, which was seven feet above the water and swam directly to shore to
urinate. He had a strict master and would not relieve himself on the boat no matter how much we tried to coax him.
That dog must have been in extreme pain as we had been offshore more than twelve hours at that time.
This was what we had worked so hard for; nights like this one far out from the rest of the world and so close to
nature.
The next morning there was no wind at all so we powered up the engine and set out in the thin fog heading back to
Bayfield. Jane and I would have preferred to wait for wind to sail but some of our passengers had to go to work the
next day so we had no choice.
Dennis Bradley and I were the only survivors of the beer drinking the previous day so we were out on deck together.
In less than a minute a gale force wind kicked up six to eight foot seas and our brand new Detroit Diesel engine
missed a beat and then another. Dennis and I quickly rigged the storm sails, which we had never tried before. Well,
no sooner did we have those sails up and the engine gasped its last and left us with only the screaming wind and
the sound of crashing waves from the rocky shore that we were dangerously close to. The wind was so fierce that
even our shirt collars flapped us hard enough to cause welts. The sheets, those are the lines that control and adjust
the sails were pounding in a wild oscillating frenzy that twisted and snarled them around everything in sight. Dennis
and I quickly came to the sickening conclusion that we were not going to clear the point of land that was directly off
our bow and we would have to make the tough maneuver of a jibe. A jibe is when a sailboat sailing down wind
changes direction and goes on a different tack. Under the best of conditions this can be a very stressful thing to
perform on any sailboat as the control of the boom coming across and being stopped abruptly puts the ultimate
strains on the rigging…if this failed we were doomed. Our passengers had no idea just how serious this situation
was as they were hung over and sick. The dog did just fine. We made it as you can see, as I am still alive to write
this story. Well this is one more lesson not available in school but without that school that beautiful nature we love so
much would have put an end to all of us right then and there.
We sailed all of the way back and right up to and into the slip we had at the marina without the help of the engine.
We were for sure getting the bugs out of the boat before we left the area. We found and corrected the problem that
caused our new engine to let us down at the most inopportune time. The fuel tanks that were built integral in to the
hull had faulty inspection plates and water had seeped into the tanks and inadvertently caused the engine failure.
Diesel engines demand clean fuel and air and will defiantly quit with even the smallest amount of water. Well, so that
we could make our escape as planned I installed a thirty gallon “day tank” that was high and dry but had the
problem of having to be hand pumped full after a long days motoring. We were going to go and these petty
annoyances could be corrected when we were in a tropical environment later on.
Another very nice gesture was made by one of my previous clients who owned Andy’s Big Dollar Store in Bayfield. In
my previous business when contracting through a wholesale distributor named Twin Ports Grocery I had called on
this store and become friends with the owners. Well, they were so nice to sell Jane all of the provisions that we
needed for our long voyage at their cost. Yes, they delivered the mountain of full cases of groceries right to our boat
at dockside. So thank you Andy…we have never forgotten that very nice gesture.
The day before we were ready to go over the horizon our friends Jerry and Bonnie Peterson had an outdoor party at
their new home high up on top of the hill that overlooked that big lake we were about to cross. Among the apple
orchards and grape vines of Hauser's orchards across the road was a spectacular view that extended far off to the
highlands of the peninsula of Upper Michigan, and that was where we were next headed.
With live music and lots of food, the keg beer vanished rapidly as all were in a party mood. This party helped cap off
or climax a very determined effort on our part. This was like having a completely new life that was above and beyond
the expectations of anyone we knew, so Jane and I as partners were ready for this leap over the horizon and out of
sight to some unknowns that awaited our arrival…we were ready!
Oh, by the way!
A few years later we met a German couple even more determined than we were named, Hein and Siggi Zenker.
They built a 20-foot sailboat. They started construction in Iron Bridge, Ontario, Canada, finished it in the Colorado
Mountains and launched it in California. Their next destination was Australia on their way around the world. They
had no navigation skills when they departed and Hein’s previous boating experience consisted of his WW2
submarine service in the German navy. We asked how they dared depart with so little navigational knowledge and
Hein’s response was, “John, I didn’t think I could miss anything the size of a continent and besides we would have
plenty of time to study along the way.” They did circumnavigate the world and in the smallest boat, their little
Thlaloca, and that was a record at the time. Siggi mentioned that it was 95 percent misery. For more of their
adventures, read the book written by Hein Zenker: West! Sail West, Man! Around the World in twenty Feet. The
book is a thriller!
next chapter
July 29th, 1972
On a hot summer’s afternoon at Drills marina up the Saint Louis River on the Wisconsin-Minnesota border and as
far west as any boat can go on the Saint Lawrence waterway we started our engine.
We cast off the lines, put the shift lever forward and felt the boat make its first move under its own power. Though
this craft wasn’t completely put together yet our determination to get under way overpowered us and drove us to
finish many of the last details as we traveled
as one person in the bilge manually shifted the transmission while another person activated the throttle as I gave the
horn had failed. With screams and shouts the bridge tender opened the bridge…a few whacks with the winch handle
feel and respond? At the Arrowhead Bridge, our first one to open on our way, we discovered that our Spartan air
horn had failed. With screams and shouts the bridge tender opened the bridge…a few whacks with the winch handle
from one end of the harbor to the other.
and our air horn was back in service. The feeling of escape was overwhelming as we powered the fourteen miles
from one end of the harbor to the other.
Our destination that night was the Duluth Power Squadron dock in Allouez Bay just inside the Superior, Wisconsin
entry. The entry is two thousand five hundred feet wide and would be our departure point the next morning. A
heavy fog like soup set in almost instantly as we were in the busiest part of the shipping channel. Jane was on the
button with her navigation skills tuned by five years of study. In class, whenever the instructor didn’t know the
answer the classmates always turned their eyes to Jane, she knew. With speed, direction and position Jane guided
us right to our dockside spot, very impressive indeed! Yes she is the best…my partner.
We were still tied to the world and would be for some time to come with our dependency on shore side electric
power. Well, we got plugged in and home was home again.
The galley stove wasn’t hooked up yet so we were using a portable camping stove. And we discovered just how
dangerous they could be on a boat when it burst into flames and Jane had to pitch it onto the dock where we could
deal with the problem without destroying our boat. We soon corrected this problem and over the years have had a
variety of different cooking stoves.
It was a quiet night and we were up early with the sun and headed out into the big lake, “Superior” where first we
swung the compass. This is a process of turning the vessel on different headings and making a table of corrections
for each of those headings using a fixed position and a device to take bearings from a known position, usually on
shore. This may sound complicated but that is part of what we went to school to learn and this information is
imperative when plotting our compass course. To our surprise the deviation on some headings was as high as 40
degrees. Because this hull had had extensive welding on it the residual magnetism in the hull affected our compass
headings and as time passed and the hull magnetism diminished and changed so we would have to repeat this
process many times.
Next the sails went up, it was an almost calm morning but some light puffs of wind came along. We watched
expectantly as the sails first filled, then the vessel heeled over slightly and the bow of the boat fell off from the wind
direction and we experienced a quiet but gentle surge as our creation gained a life of its own. We were silently
gliding off on the beginning of a voyage of a lifetime.
That afternoon late we pulled into the very small harbor at Cornucopia, Wisconsin and ran aground. We just stayed
in that spot and connected our electric so we were home with all of the conveniences. Even though our vessel was
twenty tons, we merely turned it by hand when we were ready to go as maneuvering in these close quarters would
be more than challenging with my lack of experience with this new toy. We soon became extremely proficient with
maneuvering in heavy winds and strong currents and you will just have to read on to see how this adventure unfolds.
July 30th, 1972
The next morning we were soon amongst the Apostle Islands and they seemed confining as compared to our
previous day in the wide openness of the largest freshwater lake in the world. We even encountered a large lake
freighter carrying iron ore there amongst the Apostles. One thing about the lake is that almost always there is plenty
of water under your keel as it is deep and also very cold. I always used to joke that it wasn’t the sharks that would
get you in Lake Superior but it was the cold water. Offshore even in summer the water temperature would be less
than thirty-four degrees. It is said that if you were young, well rested and in good shape that your life expectancy in
those frozen waters was less than twenty minutes. Hypothermia will get you, not the sharks. No refrigeration was
needed either; you could merely place anything you wanted kept cool in the bilge.
As we sailed up past the downtown of Bayfield there was a welcoming for us. This was more than a surprise as our
friend George Deline was on a friend’s boat that came at us with all of its sails full on a collision course and just
before the point of impact he popped his spinnaker. (A spinnaker is a large sail deployed off the bow that is usually
only used in a very light wind conditions…and they are very unwieldy even for experienced sailors.) Well, they surely
got our attention as they brushed within an inch or two of us at top speed.
It might be funny now but at that moment we were sure we would be headed to the bottom directly. We had gotten to
know many people here over the years, as this was a regular place for us to visit even before we started our sailing
experiences.
We next pulled into the small harbor at Port Superior Village where our friends Jerry and Bonnie Peterson were the
managers of that marina. For the next two weeks we again worked hard on our new vessel to make it fit for our long
voyage that lay ahead of us.
We took out several groups of friends on short sailing trips amongst the Apostle Islands. On one overnight trip to
Outer Island, which is about thirty-five miles distant from the marina, we had three friends, Dale Nichols, Jon Moin
and Dennis Bradley aboard. Dennis was the only one of the friends that was a real sailor. We had one other
passenger and that was our friend Jerry Peterson’s big golden retriever, which we were baby-sitting for the
weekend. Jane and I had purchased a keg of beer, which connected directly to a spigot in the galley so all were
welcome to partake of all they wanted. They all did and long into that night as we anchored just off Otter Island,
which is protected from bad weather by an adjacent island, named Cat. As soon as we were close to shore Jerry
Peterson’s dog jumped off our main deck, which was seven feet above the water and swam directly to shore to
urinate. He had a strict master and would not relieve himself on the boat no matter how much we tried to coax him.
That dog must have been in extreme pain as we had been offshore more than twelve hours at that time.
This was what we had worked so hard for; nights like this one far out from the rest of the world and so close to
nature.
The next morning there was no wind at all so we powered up the engine and set out in the thin fog heading back to
Bayfield. Jane and I would have preferred to wait for wind to sail but some of our passengers had to go to work the
next day so we had no choice.
Dennis Bradley and I were the only survivors of the beer drinking the previous day so we were out on deck together.
In less than a minute a gale force wind kicked up six to eight foot seas and our brand new Detroit Diesel engine
missed a beat and then another. Dennis and I quickly rigged the storm sails, which we had never tried before. Well,
no sooner did we have those sails up and the engine gasped its last and left us with only the screaming wind and
the sound of crashing waves from the rocky shore that we were dangerously close to. The wind was so fierce that
even our shirt collars flapped us hard enough to cause welts. The sheets, those are the lines that control and adjust
the sails were pounding in a wild oscillating frenzy that twisted and snarled them around everything in sight. Dennis
and I quickly came to the sickening conclusion that we were not going to clear the point of land that was directly off
our bow and we would have to make the tough maneuver of a jibe. A jibe is when a sailboat sailing down wind
changes direction and goes on a different tack. Under the best of conditions this can be a very stressful thing to
perform on any sailboat as the control of the boom coming across and being stopped abruptly puts the ultimate
strains on the rigging…if this failed we were doomed. Our passengers had no idea just how serious this situation
was as they were hung over and sick. The dog did just fine. We made it as you can see, as I am still alive to write
this story. Well this is one more lesson not available in school but without that school that beautiful nature we love so
much would have put an end to all of us right then and there.
We sailed all of the way back and right up to and into the slip we had at the marina without the help of the engine.
We were for sure getting the bugs out of the boat before we left the area. We found and corrected the problem that
caused our new engine to let us down at the most inopportune time. The fuel tanks that were built integral in to the
hull had faulty inspection plates and water had seeped into the tanks and inadvertently caused the engine failure.
Diesel engines demand clean fuel and air and will defiantly quit with even the smallest amount of water. Well, so that
we could make our escape as planned I installed a thirty gallon “day tank” that was high and dry but had the
problem of having to be hand pumped full after a long days motoring. We were going to go and these petty
annoyances could be corrected when we were in a tropical environment later on.
Another very nice gesture was made by one of my previous clients who owned Andy’s Big Dollar Store in Bayfield. In
my previous business when contracting through a wholesale distributor named Twin Ports Grocery I had called on
this store and become friends with the owners. Well, they were so nice to sell Jane all of the provisions that we
needed for our long voyage at their cost. Yes, they delivered the mountain of full cases of groceries right to our boat
at dockside. So thank you Andy…we have never forgotten that very nice gesture.
The day before we were ready to go over the horizon our friends Jerry and Bonnie Peterson had an outdoor party at
their new home high up on top of the hill that overlooked that big lake we were about to cross. Among the apple
orchards and grape vines of Hauser's orchards across the road was a spectacular view that extended far off to the
highlands of the peninsula of Upper Michigan, and that was where we were next headed.
With live music and lots of food, the keg beer vanished rapidly as all were in a party mood. This party helped cap off
or climax a very determined effort on our part. This was like having a completely new life that was above and beyond
the expectations of anyone we knew, so Jane and I as partners were ready for this leap over the horizon and out of
sight to some unknowns that awaited our arrival…we were ready!
Oh, by the way!
A few years later we met a German couple even more determined than we were named, Hein and Siggi Zenker.
They built a 20-foot sailboat. They started construction in Iron Bridge, Ontario, Canada, finished it in the Colorado
Mountains and launched it in California. Their next destination was Australia on their way around the world. They
had no navigation skills when they departed and Hein’s previous boating experience consisted of his WW2
submarine service in the German navy. We asked how they dared depart with so little navigational knowledge and
Hein’s response was, “John, I didn’t think I could miss anything the size of a continent and besides we would have
plenty of time to study along the way.” They did circumnavigate the world and in the smallest boat, their little
Thlaloca, and that was a record at the time. Siggi mentioned that it was 95 percent misery. For more of their
adventures, read the book written by Hein Zenker: West! Sail West, Man! Around the World in twenty Feet. The
book is a thriller!
next chapter