Windshift

Heliotrope out for a stretch and cobweb clearing. Light breeze from north-east providing 3 to 4 knots, a good way out of the bay. Eventually Lolipop spotted also under sail, but far to leeward.  

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Then wind dropping away to nothing. Somewhat later, dark water way down under Lolipop. Soon, even under jib only, that boat heels and starts scooting. And the wind line moves toward us, and then we hear the susurration. Sitting still, it's tack and trim. Closer, closer, and wham, the wind's south-west. We heel, and soon are over 6. Pax moves cautiously off the coach roof into the cockpit.  Wind now on the nose, but Heliotrope has a bone in her teeth. 

Sailing is fun.  

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Photos courtesy Mary Ellen.  

Photos courtesy Mary Ellen.  

Also Wilker hauled today. 

Photo courtesy Sue

Photo courtesy Sue

Transition

Some late night rain. Cloudy, humid morning. Slow clearing, and decreasing humidity. The coreopsis on the front deck, which appeared moribund yesterday, are rejuvenating, after nine days of neglect. 

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No signs of bear. Boats all good, though Geode needed bailing. The road to Gore Bay a muddy mess with resurfacing in progress.

Astonishingly, we were able to watch the so-called "Commander In Chief" "debate" on the "TV" at Pinebox. Equally astonishing, the inept performance of the moderator. We gave our dump-meister, Dennis, a lift to his place of employment on our way to GorB, and he was far more informed than the Matt Lauer creature, and would have done a better job.

Manistique

On the road again. A bit of the melancholy excitement of traveling out of season when the crowds are gone and when change is in the air.  

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Some rain, but more bugs. On the stretch from Escanaba to Manistique it sounded like we were dving through a popcorn popper, and by the time we got to our motel the windshield was nearly opaque. Two motorcyclists circling Lake Michigan counterclockwise pulled into the parking lot as we did with saturated leathers and a lot of bugs in their teeth. 

End of Summer Sunday

Warm but pleasant. Occasional clouds to keep the heat from building. Walking weather. 

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End of summer winter squash.  

End of summer winter squash.  

The crickets sang in the grasses. They sang the song of summer's ending, a sad monotonous song. "Summer is over and gone, over and gone, over and gone. Summer is dying, dying." A little maple tree heard the cricket song and turned bright red with anxiety.

The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last forever. Even on the most beautiful days in the whole year — the days when summer is changing into fall the crickets spread the rumor of sadness and change.

--EB White

Fun in Fox Point

Will was off school and Nik had never seen the new house. A hike through the Audibon and visit to Will's classroom. Lunch on the lakeshore. Back at the house Buddy stepped on a bee and Ab had to take him to the vet. While she was away Will and I had a fierce game of soccer, and I now find walking difficult. The bee sting delayed our departure so we got to see Katy when she got home from school.  

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Yard and Garden

A fine day to be outdoors.  

Pax took Nik and me on the big loop walk (with a detour to SweetSpot), and along the way we enjoyed identifying a variety of invasive plants (and some nice ones, too).

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Back home, it was a massive tomato harvest. Then, after noon clearing the jungle that used to be a herb garden and will now be repurposed as a plot of edible shrubs (blueberries, etc.) Then there was the cooking—zucchini/onion/tomato hot dish, grilled tomato soup, and rosemary/lime chicken. Pretty much all local and all incredibly delicious. Local musk melon with ice cream coming up for dessert.

While dining we received the following email:

Bear Alert Tonight
Hi Everyone.
There is a large black bear on Serendipity tonight...Heather Bell (#382) saw it at 8:10 on her driveway, and Mary  Ellen & John Nies (#184) saw it at 8:35pm.

Elaine & Murray

 

Runaway Fridge

Not only a long drive but a long drive on top of no sleep—thanks to a runaway fridge. I had moved back to the bedroom in earshot of the beast, and, thinking of the coming long drive, went to bed early. But once in bed I can't help but listen, and mixed in with the surf, and the sound of rain on the roof, was the droning of the fridge. On and on it went, long past the time to shut off. On and on.

Sometime in the middle of the night I felt I'd had enough. I roused the other fridge keeper, and the two of us went at the machine hammer and tongs. Obviously the fridge had been abused the past few weeks—overstuffed and seldom closed. Which is expected. Now we shut it off. We pulled everything out. We disposed of multitudinous mostly air filled zippies that seemed to be clogging the vents, we dialed down the cold factor, and we cleaned an inch of dust off the intake grill.

Then we went back to bed. Of course I could not not listen, and after listening intently for a half an hour I heard the machine turn off. Peace at last.  Except now I was too strung out to sleep, and reveille was only an hour or two away. 

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Back in Whitewater we found the garden prospering. At least in some ways. The tomatoes have gone bananas, and grilled tomato soup is already on the docket. The winter squash plants have expanded immodestly beyond their restraints, but the jungle is so think I can't count the fruits. I think there are not many, which proves one of two things: 1) tomatoes trump squash (sorry to use that word), or 2) squash need to be tended.

Bonfire

Lots of wildlife.  

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Lot's of wildlife. Closed gentian. Loons, beaver, water snake. Jays, crows, and cormorant. Two spotted fawns. No bears.

The J family over to Providence Bay for most of the day. Until dinner time, after which a bonfire at Pinebox beach and then swimming, after sunset, off our dock..

Homeward Bound

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

Another very successful Heliotrope cruise.

Late Summer; Laid Back

A day of doing little. Sitting some. Reading a bit.  A dip in what may be water beginning its fall cool-down. But then a shoreline evening  cruise aboard the Wilker, with the sun below the bluff and dusk falling by 8:30. 

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Crew aboard Heliotrope apparently having a fine time in the Benjamins and on Croaker.  

Photo courtesy of Abby.  

Photo courtesy of Abby.  

Gale Force

Thirty-five knots from the west.  

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Good storm last night, with heavy rain. This morning what must have been a seiche, taking out part of the pier and sending various objects floating.

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Over to Gore Bay for lunch, exploring, and a little grocery shopping.

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And some Inuksuk building. 

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The Nies family was on the road heading back to Wisconsin before 6, after a wonderful week.