I looked at the various forecast models over and over and, unfortunately, kept coming back to the same conclusion that making the whole thing work was going to require us to leave before the start of the window so that we already had some miles in by then.
I had really been hoping this wouldn't be necessary because our wind shift was going to be coming after the passage of a cold front. Getting an early start would mean departing in cold rain, fog, and headwinds, instead of the nice, clear skies behind it.
We pulled up anchor in a cold drizzle and departed Frenchman's Bay through a small group of Dragon boats. This was our only indication that it must be a weekend. Dragon boats are narrow boats that are paddled dugout-canoe style by teams. The occupants of each boat looked miserable in the rain, which must have been made even worse by the torrents of abuse coming from the screaming mouths of their coxswains. Perhaps they were in the Army. Perhaps they were Canada's Olympic team. Whatever it was, it was made crystal clear to them that they were not here to have fun, they were here to dig however deep they had to to beat the other boats.
Through the breakwaters and into Lake Ontario, the yelling faded and the fog thickened. We put up the sails and started tacking eastwards. Both the air and water temperatures dropped which, combined with the wind chill, made it so very cold at the helm.
Later, I was enjoying the cocoon of the warm bed, assisted by two hot water bottles, when Maryanne woke me with icy fingers, telling me it was my turn. Oh, I was so comfortable!
I donned three layers for my legs, six for my torso and four for my head before venturing outside. The first thing I noticed was that the wind had shifted! We were no longer tacking at a crawl. Maryanne had us pointing east on a broad reach. The reach was so broad, in fact, that it seemed like now might be a good time to switch to the spinnaker!
After digging it out, I went on deck to douse the other sails. Looking up at them, I saw that the fog had become so thick that my headlamp couldn't penetrate far enough to see the top quarter of the sails. If I turned it off, I could see the multicolored glow of our tricolor nav light, but when I turned it back on, all I could see was a sea of white.
Putting up the spinnaker actually warmed me to the point where I was unzipping layers to keep my outfit from getting clammy. I had about fifteen minutes of perfect comfort before the chill had me zipping back up again. From there, I just gradually lost heat the rest of the night. At least it kept me awake. When it was time for me to use my icy fingers to wake Maryanne, I hadn't been able to feel them for an hour. Summer cannot get here fast enough for me.
The skies had cleared completely by then, and we both got to enjoy watching the sun break the horizon and almost immediately start evaporating the dew that was coating everything.
Sailing eastward across Lake Ontario
The wind, and thus our speed, picked up enough in the afternoon that it started to look like we just might be able to avoid a second night at sea. The wind was forecast to turn on us again, but if we could go fast enough, we might just beat it to our anchorage.
We were passing by Kingston, Ontario, with only about ten miles to go, when our luck ran out. Our spinnaker, which had been pulling us along beautifully, suddenly collapsed and started luffing wildly, like a kid having a tantrum in a store. As we coasted to a stop, we realized our tailwind hadn't turned to a headwind after all. We had just plowed into still air.
Since Begonia is not so fast under motor, we changed our goal to a closer bay to anchor for the night. We entered in the very last of the light and dropped anchor. Our first attempt failed, so we moved farther in for a second. By the time we had it set, we had to use lights on shore as ranges to see if we were dragging. Still, we were both glad to have escaped spending another night watch each in the cold.
Tranquility at Cassidy's Bay
Our anchorage at Cassidy's Bay didn't offer much, apart from solitude and long views along the St. Lawrence River. There were a few unoccupied holiday homes along the shore, but no sign of any people. Apparently, during the height of summer, this place can be chock-a-block with rafted boats, jet skis and water skiers. While we were there, I counted us, two swans, three Canada Geese, and about five loons. It was a nice place to wait out a spot of rainy weather before moving further downstream.
Anchorage location >> On google maps
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