Campsite Beach at Sunset (Photo: Steve Muntz)
By: Tom Bamonte
When
Dave Kaknes promised to "sing" the story of Oliver Hazard Perry and the
Battle of Lake Erie around the campfire I knew that the Lake Erie
Islands trip was one not to be missed. Unfortunately, we never got the
hear Dave emulate Homer. The skeeters and the allure of a nearby bar
and grill kept us from gathering around a campfire. Yet, a dozen of us
had a fine trip to the Lake Erie islands on the weekend of June 25,
2010 and we even learned the story of Oliver H. Perry and the Battle of
Lake Erie.
BACKGROUNDThere
is a significant archipelago in Lake Erie, about six hours of easy
driving east of Chicago. The islands allow the adventuresome to island
hop the roughly 35 miles from the mainland in Ohio, on the south shore
of Lake Erie, to Point Pelee, the southernmost point of mainland
Canada, on the north shore of the Lake.
On the United States side the islands include Kelley's
Island, South Bass Island, Middle Bass Island and North Bass Island.
Pelee Island, a sizable island about 7 miles long and three miles wide,
is the largest Canadian island. Scattered throughout are smaller
islands, some occupied and some uninhabited and serving as nurseries
for gulls and cormorants. As migrating birds, like kayakers, enjoy
island hopping, the archipelago is a favorite of bird watchers.
In
contrast to the Manitou Islands in Lake Michigan, the site of
last
year's trip, this is not a wilderness area, although Ohio is
transforming North Bass island into a more rustic area. Most of the
larger islands are filled with cottages, as this is a vacation mecca
for Ohioans and others.
Put-in-Bay on South Bass Island is a classic
tourist town, with a fine harbor, restaurants, bars and museums. The
other large islands have amenities such as bars and general stores.
Frequent ferries serve the islands
and fleets of golf carts provide land transportation. There is lots of
boat traffic and, as we found out, the Coast Guard has an active
presence.
These amenities give groups plenty of
options. The ferries provide an alternative to open water crossings in
hazardous conditions. The museums and historical sites on the islands
arguably provide more mental stimulation than watching gophers. And
what's not to like about the ready availability of food, beer and ice
cream after a day of paddling.
Denis Jones Interacts With Native Culture
The paddling environment among
these islands is the real deal. (Chart) Lake Erie is shallow compared to the
familiar waters of Lake Michigan and Lake Superior. Even a mile or
more from land the water still had that tan color that indicates
shallow water. The deepest spots among the islands is only about 30
feet deep.
The area is prone to sudden and violent thunderstorms
that generally swoop in from the west. Combine high winds and shallow
water and very quickly you have choppy, unpredictable waves. The
shoreline in many places is rocky and there are some areas with cliffs
where there are no easy landings.
West Side of South Bass Island (Steve Muntz)
Nevertheless, there plenty of
beaches and other places of shelter mixed in with the rock. In short,
this area has plenty of challenges--and plenty of safety options--for
the paddler.
(Steve Muntz)
One
undeniable benefit of the shallow water is the warm water temperatures
in the summer. The water temperatures were in the low seventies when
we visited, which made rolls and rescue practice a real delight. The
latest GLCFS data shows that water temperatures have continued to climb
into the mid to upper seventies.
2010 TRIPThis
trip was inspired by a New York Times
article lauding the Lake Erie
Islands area as a paddling destination. We wanted someplace within a
reasonable drive of Chicago that would offer options for paddlers at
all levels of experience and interests. The prospect of paddling in an
area with plenty of touristy amenities was an appealing contrast to the
typical grit-your-teeth-and-get-away-from-it-all wilderness trip.
The
crew consisted of Dave Kaknes and his wife Jeanie, Pat Lutsch, Jim
DesJardins, Erin Jones, Denis Jones (no relation), David Avni, the
engineer known as Bill, Steve Muntz, Denise Poloyac, Hether Hoffman
and I. It was a nice mixture of ages (20s to 80s) and paddling
experience (zero to many years). We coordinated travel arrangements,
contact lists and the like through a
Yahoo group specially created for
the trip.
Friday The
first group arrived at our campground on Middle Bass Island on Friday,
mostly by car ferry from Catawba Island. I had arrived early enough to
paddle over from the launch site just east of the ferry (map
here
courtesy of local paddle
Marius Asipauskas). I stayed to the east of the ferry
route when paddling the three miles to South Bass Island and then
crossed over near the terminal on the south shore of the Island. I
continued up the west side of South Bass Island, playing in the choppy
water kicked up by the cliffs and explored Put-in-Bay harbor, looking
for landing sites. (There is a good spot just east of the
Boardwalk
Restaurant, which is easy to find in the center of the harbor.) The
crossing from Put-in-Bay to the campground on the southwest side of
Middle Bass Island is a bit over a mile. Boat traffic is heavy.
At
the south tip of Middle Bass are the remains of the Lonz Winery. The
once thriving winery was housed in a Spanish/Moorish style of building
that is very distinctive. The winery business collapsed after a deck
full of imbibing visitors fell down a decade ago, causing many injuries. The
building provides a convenient landmark for the crossing from
Put-in-Bay. The campground is about a quarter of a mile northwest of
the winery. Aim for the picnic table at the head of the beach.
Lonz Winery Building (Denis Jones)
The
campground was built in a wetlands so the mosquitoes were challenging,
especially after a very wet June. Apparently, this was the only
lakefront property available so the State did what it could. Nearby is
a marina with showers. There was no potable water, but the ranger sold
water in one gallon jugs.
Better Living Through DEET: Jeanie and Dave Tempt the Skeeters (Denis Jones)
What the campground did offer was a
picnic table perched at the edge of the beach with a view west across
the water. This table provided a welcome visual reference point from
the water to our campsite. It became our social center and, so long as
there was a breeze, it provided some refuge from the bugs that were
waiting for us in the vegetation. We used this table to watch the
sunsets, organize our gear, and just sit and chat as we munched on
snacks.
One
of my enduring images from the trip was walking back from the ranger's
office and seeing much of the group in silhouette against the late
sunset, clustered around the table. The scene made me realize how
important these trips are for bringing people together for the simple
pleasures of each other's company and the kind of face-to-face
chit-chat that our Facebook-deprived ancestors used to do from their
front porches.
The Picnic Table (Denis Jones)
SaturdayOn
Saturday morning, the rest of the group arrived, having paddled from
the Catawba Island launch site. They had encountered some
"interesting" chop amidst the cliffs and outcroppings on the west side
of South Bass Island but overall had a nice crossing. With their
arrival our beach was festooned with almost a dozen colorful kayaks.
Erin
and I had missed their arrival because we had embarked on a crossing to
Pelee Island. Our route took us from our campground on the southwest
corner of Middle Bass Island to the northeast tip of the island, about
2.5 miles away. From there we made a six mile crossing to the southern
tip of Pelee Island. This was a fine paddle, with modest following
seas and wind from the southwest.
We landed and took a break at
the south end of Pelee Island, right where the trees tapered off into a
long sand spit. The weather forecast was for thunderstorms developing
later in the day, so we did not stay long.
The Indefatigable Ms. Jones on Pelee Island
In light of the darkening
sky we decided to return via Middle Island. This uninhabited island
has a reputation for being spooky and it lived up to that reputation.
It is overrun by gulls and cormorants. There are stands of dead trees
covered with cormorants. Gulls fill the sky and on the west spit where
we landed there was a gull rookery where we both saw our first gull
chicks. It wasn't until after we had finished lunch that we wanderws
up the the sign--planted in the middle of the rookery--that informed us
that we weren't supposed to be on this island.
Middle Island
The
sky cleared a bit and we made a beeline back to South Bass Island. A
Coast Guard vessel met us as we crossed back into the United States. I
thought we might be hauled aboard, asked to produce passports (we had
them) and interrogated. The crew decided, however, that we weren't
worth the trouble and sent us on our way. We pushed against the
headwind and made it back to Middle Bass without incident. The same
Coast Guard boat cruised by as we entered the channel between Middle
and South Bass islands and the crew waved. They had verified that we
were not terrorists threats, just two goofballs in kayaks.
Crossings stir up your
feelings. The tedium of paddling and watching your destination not get
any closer is offset by the heightened alertness as one scans the sky
and the water for hazards. You are very alone in a tiny boat miles
from shore and the thoughts of so much that can go wrong creep around the
edge of your consciousness. Yet, it is so right to be out there under
the dome of the sky with the only sounds being the wind, the hiss of
the waves and the slice/slap of the paddle.
We got to talking
near the end of the trip about our shared guilt at devoting so much
time and energy to paddling when there is so much else the world needs
done and so many injustices to right. We didn't come to any definitive
answers to a question that I know bedevils some other paddlers as
well.
My view is that there is something inherently good in
doing any activity well. Our careful, successful crossing honored
those who over the centuries had developed the design of our craft and
those in the paddling community who had taken the time to teach us our
paddling skills. As appreciative witnesses to the nature around us we
honored our world. Our modest paddling achievement, like those
throughout the weekend by others in the group, reflected well on the
companions who encouraged us and served as on-shore support in case we
ran into trouble. Certainly our trip did nothing to cure global
warming or cancer, but there is just something that feels right, even
virtuous, about performing a challenging task well.
On
our crossing Erin nursed fantasies of being greeted upon landing with a
welcome parade and a fine dinner spread. I cautioned her against such
high expectations, explaining that we would be lucky to get a few kind
words and a pat on the back for our achievement. This seemingly blase
attitude towards individual paddling achievements has a strong ethical
and practical basis. When a paddling group lavishes too much praise on
individual paddling achievements it creates an incentive for group
members to take undue risks and attempt paddles beyond their
capabilities. So, Erin never got her parade for her first major
crossing, and rightfully so, but I do recall that two dashing gentlemen (Bill and David) bearing a
pizza box appeared soon after we landed and presented such to Erin. This act of chivalry came after they had spent a hard afternoon at Walleyes sampling the microbrews and watching the World Cup matches while braving the air conditioning. Truly noble men.
David Bearing Pizza to Honor Erin's Crossing (Denis Jones)
That
night the group split between those who went to a nearby bar and grill
for dinner and those who cooked. The group came back together to watch
the sunset from the picnic table.
Pat Cooking Up A Storm (Denis Jones)
After sunset some of us went to bed
but an intrepid group launched and paddled up the west side of the
island into the fading light of sunset. Once clear of the island they
turned and watched the full moon rise. This moonlight paddle was the
trip highlight for many of those participants. Here is Jim Des Jardins' report on this spectacular paddle:
The most outstanding event for me was the Saturday
evening paddle. There were six of us, Dave, Steve, Denise, Hether, Dani (a
novice) and myself. We launched from our campsite on Middle Bass Island just
after sundown and returned in the dark about two hours later.
It was almost dark when arrived at the north to the end of
the island and decided to cross to Sugar Island, approximately a mile
northwest. Heather escorted Dani back to the launching point as it was getting
dark, he did not have a spray skirt and we were going to paddle over open
water. The rest of us paddled over to and around Sugar Island and then back to
the launching point.
All was well in our paddling world. It was a wonderfully
calm and quiet evening with a close to full moon guiding us back. Few words
were spoken. It was enough being out on a calm moonlit sea. The few lights on
shore helped guide us along. We arrived back at the launch point where Pat had
put a torch (a mosquito repellent flame) to guide us in. For me, it was the
perfect moonlight paddle.
Note for next time: Don’t forget the GPS and a
headlamp, only Denise had brought a headlamp.
Night Paddling Crew Sets Off (Hether Hoffman)
Sunday
The
weather forecast for Sunday was for deteriorating conditions. In the
morning we took a group paddle around Rattlesnake Island, which is
controlled by a private club. The island has its own landing strip and
a varied rocky coast. We enjoyed the paddle and the view back to the
main group of islands. We returned to wish Dave and Jeanine off. They
had to return early to care for their business. Their unfortunate
early departure deprived us of the story of Oliver H. Perry. We would
have to learn the tale on our own.
Sunday also featured the
drama of Erin's car, which had literally died as it pulled into the
campsite Friday night. Various muttered incantations and
under-the-hood interventions had failed to revive the alternator. The
car had to be towed to the ferry. We later learned that Erin, Bill and
David had arranged for a tow truck to meet them on Catawba Island.
They spent an undoubtedly pleasant few hours in a Sandusky, Ohio garage
and then had a safe journey back to Chicago.
After
it was clear that our services to push Erin's car to the dock would not
be needed, we decided to paddle over to Put-in-Bay after lunch for ice
cream. A few of us triggered a near-mutiny by the ice cream crazed
when we lingered over our lunches. Furious negotiations ensued and a launch time was settled upon. We pushed off at precisely
the time agreed to. This was a valuable lesson in trip leadership.
The promise of ice cream on a hot sticky day is a powerful motivator for folks to get
launch ready on time.
View From Campsite Beach to Put-in-Bay (Steve Muntz)Put-in-Bay has a long, crescent-shaped
harbor that is protected from the prevailing southwest winds. There is
an island in the mouth of the harbor that provides additional
protection. The 352 foot high Perry's Victory and International Peace Memorial towers over the
area. We landed just east of the Boardwalk Restaurant, a culinary
landmark that juts into the harbor and advertises Ohio's best lobster
bisque. The last I checked the nearest lobsters were about 600 miles
away, so the restaurant may not face much local competition in the
lobster bisque department.
Put-in-Bay
is organized around a grassy square that faces the harbor. It is
packed full of bars, restaurants and ye olde souvenir shoppes. It was
oppressively hot and humid so we made our way to an ice cream shop. We
gave our delicious ice cream rapturous attention as we sat in a shady
gazebo.
Ice Cream Worship Circle (Steve, Pat, Tom, Hether, Denise) (Denis Jones)
A storm was moving in so we re-secured our boats and then
walked over to the National Park Service museum, just in time for a
captivating movie about the Battle of Lake Erie. We learned how Oliver
H. Perry had assembled a fleet and engaged the British fleet in a
decisive battle for control of Lake Erie. We learned of possible
treachery in Perry's ranks by one of his captains, who failed to engage
the Britsh with his ship. When Perry's flagship was crippled, he rowed
from his crippled flagship to the ship that was holding back, took
command and led his fleet to victory. The whole of Lake Erie might be
in Canada had it not been for Perry. The movie was a striking tale
well delivered, but I still would have liked to have heard Dave's
rendition around a campfire.
We
returned to the harbor and had one of those difficult stay-or-go
moments. The sky was threatening but the one mile crossing back to
camp was short. In the end, Jim Des Jardins, a sailor and kayaker with
plenty of years of experience watching the weather, made the
call--"Let's go."
Maybe The Vision Of This Is What Prompted Jim To Say "Let's Go"! (Denis Jones)
We paddled back to camp with anxious glances
over our left shoulders. Upon arrival we secured our gear and tents
and then hunkered down and waited for the storm to hit. It pretty much
missed us, but the waves kicked up and it was a good opportunity to
steal a nap.
More
storms were forecast, so we went to the nearby bar and grill for
dinner. Then it was time to watch the sunset and hit the sack.
Hether Summons the Sun Goddess (Denis Jones)
Just
as we were getting comfortable in our "beds" the tornado siren in Put-in-Bay began
wailing. Pat rousted us out of our tents and we assembled back in the
bar. When the radar showed no imminent threat, we adjourned for what
turned out to be a quiet night. From the lightening to the north and
south of us it appeared that the storm had split in two and avoided
Middle Bass Island. A local indicated that Middle Bass frequently is
spared the worst of thunderstorms in a similar fashion.
MondayThe
water was still a little bumpy Monday morning and there was a brisk
southwest wind. Jim, Pat and Denis were driving back. The rest of us
had a difficult decision whether to paddle the six miles or so back to
the put-in on Catawba Island or load our boats on the ferry by hand.
Trip Back-View From Ferry (Denis Jones)
We
decided to break up the trip into segments and decision points. The
first leg of the trip was across the channel to South Bass Island. The
channel funneled the wind and waves so this was potentially the most
difficult part of the trip. All felt comfortable enough to give it a
go, especially since there were plenty of take-out options and
potential rescue boats. This leg was uneventful and everyone felt more
confident having made this initial crossing.
From there we
proceeded down the east side of South Bass, getting some but far from
complete protection from the wind. We then landed for lunch at a rare
unsettled spot a couple of hundred yards east of the ferry terminal on
the south side of South Bass Island. This gave us a chance to assess
conditions for the main crossing of the day to Catawba Island. With
some paddling and lunch under our belts and improving conditions we had
a consensus to go for the crossing rather than unload our boats and
haul them and gear onto the ferry.
Last Lunch-South Bass Island Just East of Ferry Launch (Hether Hoffman)
The
final crossing under sunny skies with a breeze and modest beam waves
gave us a chance to enjoy paddling and lock in our mind's eye this
delightful paddling environment. While armchair critics might scoff at
the thought of "serious" paddling among populated islands offering
ready access to ice cream and beer, we knew differently. The Lake Erie
islands offer the best of both approaches--an interesting and
challenging paddling environment and the chance to indulge in the
pleasures of "civilization" after landing.
Denise Landing-"Whew" Is RIght (Denis Jones)I'm looking forward to the 2011 trip.
Boats on Beach (Steve Muntz)
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