After leaving Wisconsin on the Lake Express high-speed ferry I was some two hours later sliding past a WWII submarine known as the SS Silversides, into a the sheltered harbor of Muskegon, Michigan. Then suddenly I found myself driving north to find the various harbor towns scattered on the north-western tip of the state. The first night I camped at the D.H. Day campground where you registered for your natural experience by slipping money into an auto-teller. Thanks to that machine I now have a good handful of dollar coins that only the government has found real use for.

The following morning I was at the our launch site staring out at North Manitou Island painted on glass in the distance with Pyramid Point on my right sliding down into the turquoise water. I was first to arrive and did what I could to assist with directions and passing messages. We did our best to keep in contact by cell phone but technology was not compatible with this part of the state. Maybe that’s a good thing in the end, but when you have folks lost on the M109 you’d really like to have a phone working. On a side note, it’s interesting that Michigan roads are named in the UK style where you take the M31 north and the jump on a B road over to sleepy village on the shore. I’m sure my Welsh boat just felt all the more at home.

You know as I’ve said before I find it incredibly intimidating to kayak with folks of mind-boggling skill as was the case on this trip. You have to have a certain amount of respect for if nothing else, the amount of time you know they put in to gain that shockingly smooth side-slip or to see them basically sleeping at the wheel while your battling to stay with them in conditions. Awesome! So on this trip I was pretty darn quiet when we went out. I spent many years bartending and am happy to be loud and entertaining with some sort of social or physical barrier whether it’s a bar, a pre-set social structure or as Justine later pointed out, a computer. When the barrier is gone I lapse into my own little world taking pictures and making observations and then tepidly join the group as days go on. In the end they are just happy to have me shut up!

Amongst the group were incredible traditional kayakers such as Doug Van Doren and Keith Wikle who had no problems keeping up with the best of us with our big fat ‘Euro” blades. There was Ken Fink who first imported Valley boats to the US, founded the first kayak symposium, and will soon be doing some amazing crossings in the Pacific with catamarans created by combining Feathercraft kayaks. Good Luck Ken!!! Then of course, there was Justine Curgenven who unconsciously makes many of us look foolish on the water. I was amazed how subtle and shocking her paddling skills are. It’s when we’re in 3 footers with a crosswind and she is single-mindedly focused on leaning back and fiddling with a camera that you see how amazing she is. Or when she’s moving to and fro through out the group getting pictures while the rest of us work to keep on a track. Then you add Rick Kocher, Andy Knepley , Belinda and all the others (I think we totaled 12 in all). Heck I was tempted to just sit on the beach and wave everyone else off with a white kitchen towel.

We were greeted the first day by glassy tropical looking water as we glided out into the inland sea. The water itself is quite shallow for the most part and perfectly clear. Although warm and tropical feeling the water temperature was actually on 38f and I wore my drysuit. (Hey, I was probably the one most likely to swim..). We took a break to to climb part way up Pyramid point and then took off at a north-west angle for the main island. This was the first of the many vertical dune runs At about the midpoint you reach the Manitou Shoals lighthouse that marks the western boundary of the Manitou channel. From there the water again becomes quite shallow which as we found out on the return home, can really kick up some waves.

We made our base some 3 miles north west from the southern tip of North Manitou and had to make many trips from our boats up sand dunes to our tents back off the water. Climbing sand dunes has certainly become the new bane of my existence. I don’t want to see sand dunes again for some time.

The following morning we were greeted by a fairly good headwind as we paddled the 4 or so miles to South Manitou Island and then continued on to a very impressive ship wreck that sits further to the south of the island. The ship and the forest that sat some hundreds of feet above the water were covered in black cormorants which looked very much like vampire bats. The image was almost as shocking as the smell. I’m pretty sure I was being tricked into thinking we were going into shore for a rest when what actually happened is we climbed that blasted sand dune to explore the interior of the island!

South Manitou has two very interesting things. Ancient trees and ghost forests. My understanding is that a ghost forest is created when over time a forest is covered in sand and then again in time is uncovered leaving behind something that looks like a post apocalyptic landscape amongst rolling dunes.

We lingered quite some time and found ourselves being led by Alun who being from Wales, was the furthest from local, through the varying trails back to the beach and our kayaks. A mountain guide needs not be local to know the way home. (Keep that tip in your pocket for future use.) Luckily with following seas and a proficient group we were able to beat the sunset and arrive back at North Manitou with light to spare. I was impressed that we averaged 3.7 mph with this size group. I was even more impressed that I did not lag much although I did have the impression I was being well watched over. I was about 50/50 surfing the waves back and for every one I would catch perfectly there was one that would send me completely out of line and force me to sweep my boat back in time for the next wave.

The last day of the trip we were again greeted by a side wind and 2 foot waves that built up to 3 or so feet as we crossed the North Manitou shoals. The broaching waves caused havoc for skegs and overloaded Stearns. I’ve never used a skeg, but did a nice job of overloading my stern which caused my boat to ride down a wave and turn south into the next. I spent a lot of time sweeping back into line as we headed “home”. At one point Justine came barreling up along side me to point out that it was un-necessary to brace in the conditions and flew off again. With that I quickly found more speed and lost my concern that one rogue wave would take me over. They didn’t. They did however keep bashing my tail northward and generally causing control problems until we paddled behind the sheltering tower of the point.

Again on the beach near Good Harbor the sun shorn on azure waters that would be deceptively inviting to recreational boats. We packed up our gear and made the trip south to beginning the 3 day West Michigan Coastal Kayakers Association Symposium. Before I truly hit the road I stopped back at a little coffee house to get my first shot of caffeine in 3 days and pulled out my dollar coins to pay. The woman behind the counter who knew we had been on the islands made a passing comment about me throwing around my doubloons since returning from the sea. With a smile, I walked back out to the Jeep and took off south for another adventure.

Skipping over the symposium which I will write more about later, Mary came to join me in Muskegon Monday evening for the trip home. We had to wait on shore for 6 hours until the mid-night trip back across Lake Michigan. Much of that time we sat at a public beach while Gryphon ran in and out of the light surf. While catching up on our separate lives for the past few days, somewhere in mid-thought I quietly said “wave” and continued with my current topic. A minute later a strong wake came into the beach from some distant un-seen ship and noisily raked at the shore for just a few seconds, then went silent. Mary stopped me in mid-sentence to point this out. Obviously some part of my mind had learned something while out on the lake. Here days later on the beach, the radar was still up, keeping vigil as I chatted away about the mundane seemingly fully returned to life on the land.

Something must be starting to sink in. Thank you!

-dm