Entry #94: N46.51.167, W84.61.147
Saturday, August 3rd (Day 89) – Instead of a good nights rest, I experienced a second straight night of restlessness. I simply was unable to stop reflecting on my poor physical and mental conditions and thinking about NTLs’ lack of preparedness or that I have run out of time necessary to complete circumnavigating all five Great Lakes. I was about to enter Lake Superior without solutions to all these issues. The number and severity of storms while circumnavigating each of the lower three Great Lakes and one leg of Lake Huron had resulted in being two to three weeks behind schedule.
Originally, I had hoped to have sailed the North Channel and Georgian Bay prior to taking on Lake Superior in order to avoid sailing waters north of Tobermory in September. I had estimated it would take three to four weeks to complete circumnavigation of Lake Superior (Sept. 1st). It still would have been tight, but immediately following my Lake Superior circumnavigation, I then planned to shoot down the Saint Marys’ River and follow the Ontario shoreline of Lake Huron south to the Blue Water Bridge. But I arrived in De Tour at the mouth of the Saint Marys’ River with no time to make the North Channel or Georgian Bay. And more importantly with no time to rest.
And now having to complete the North Channel and Georgian Bay after Lake Superior, I would now be well into September! Too dangerous and not acceptable, especially in my physical condition. Truthfully I had under estimated the distances of all three northern bodies of water (Superior, North Channel and Georgian Bay) and should have added a fourth week to my estimate.
(I know that I may be repeating myself but I am attempting to frame and put into context ensure the state of my mind as event are about to take place. This is difficult for me.)
Last evening during the skippers meeting I met with the two other Trans-Superior newbies as we agreed to embark together in the morning for the Canadian locks on our way to the starting line. I had little time left prior to our agreed to 7:30 am departure. I lowered my left leg and literally groaned in pain to lift myself up.
I was the last to leave my slip. It was a beautiful morning. The Canadian locks where scheduled to open at 8 am. I wasn’t the first to the lock but somehow I managed to be in first position of perhaps a dozen or so vessels secured to leave when the gates opened. Slowly we all rose as water filled to the level of Lake Superior. The Superior side lock doors finally opened and again I was the first vessel out and began heading for Gros Cap Light in Whitefish Bay, Lake Superior some twelve miles away. I remember smiling as I thought to myself, OK, I now have sailed my fifth Great Lake and I’m in first place. I won. I’m done. Now I can return to George Kemp Marina and get some sleep! Little did I know – deja vu!
As boat after boat passed me on my way to the starting line I was feeling a sense of contentment. I was truly enjoying the beautiful sailing conditions on Lake Superior. I even felt a sense of accomplishment _ 89 days, over 2.500 miles, sailed all five Great Lakes, three circumnavigated. And throughout my journey, peoples’ responses had evolved when hearing of my attempt from polite acknowledgement and skepticism (Erie, Ontario) to a shaking of the head and awe (Michigan, Superior, North Channel and Georgian Bay).
Eventually as I continued on my way to the starting line, all the race participants had passed me and were disappearing into a newly formed foggy mist. My feeling of contentment had shifted to one of urgency as the start line was still 3 ½ miles ahead somewhere in the fog! It was an hour to the starting line and I realized that I may not be on time! I sailed for speed and strained to maintain sight of the nearest vessel until it too had disappeared. I was now left to my GPS chart plotter and aggressively headed for Gros Cap Light.
It took me over three hours to reach the starting line. I was the last boat to report in with only a little over twenty minutes to the 1 pm start. Immediately, I began to scope the line. I then ran the line to see how long it would take from committee boat to the Gros Cap Light. I dipped above and below the starting line with ease. I was having a blast as several participants sailed by wishing me luck. I decided on my start strategy and got into position above and to starboard of the committee boat. I then began my run as the one minute countdown commenced. On starboard tack I sailed by the committee boat dipping below the starting line and began running the line. I was near the port end (Gros Cap Light) at the gun and began to sheet in the main when I inexplicably stalled! Then my mind turned to mush and I couldn’t get myself to cross the starting line! It was as if there was a wall blocking me!
As I watched the last boat cross the starting line I began to feel sick with despair. Conditions were ideal what the hell is going on? I found myself making one mental error after another. Eventually after several futile attempts on either tack, I knew I had reached my physical, mental and emotional end. In my condition it was too dangerous to go on and something inside of me was preventing me from going forward. With great difficulty, I solemnly sailed to the committee boat and announced my withdrawal from the race. I then came about and began sailing back towards the Canadian locks. I was done . I can’t ever, ever remember experiencing the emotional breakdown that followed. I don’t remember how I contacted Mike Spence (Race Chairman) to tell him that I had withdrawn but I remember him saying that he had already been informed.
It was a very long sail back to Jack Kemp Marina. With emphasis, I was feeling the lowest I have ever felt. After nearly 90 days I had fallen short of reaching all my objectives. How could this be? I thought, turn around. Turn around John, you can do it! You’ve gone this far. You have to finish it, dam it. How embarrassing. But my tank was empty. I had nothing left in me. I was tired. I hurt physically. And my mind was not on top of it. All I wanted to do was to just sit here in the middle of Whitefish Bay!
It was a series of little things that began to dig my mental and emotional hole I was in. I was listless without motivation and despondent. The healing process took several weeks. First was my call to Mike Pence following my withdrawal announcement. It served to get out of my shell shock. Then while returning the sate little tracker, responding in the affirmative to the Race Committees request I commit to enter 2021 Trans-Superior.
As I entered the channel leading to the Canadian locks, I got the courage to call my mentor Dan Pavlat. I wanted him to hear it first from me that I had withdrawn. I wanted to let him know that I would not have made it this far if it weren’t for his mentorship. As was his manner, Dan’s response was very supportive. He said that I’ve already accomplished more than anyone had anticipated when I had first set off – particularly given the weather conditions. He then advised that I stay a few days at the marina in the Soo and get my mind off sailing – by relaxing, getting a good meal, visiting the marine museum and, only when ready to contemplate my next step. As in the past, his re-assurance gave me strength.
I got back to George Kemp Marina around 5:30 pm. I took a long shower then walked the mile or so to Antillers Restaurant for a good meal. I ordered a hamburger and a side dish of poutine and drank three beers before waddling back to NTL and crashing.
Its been quite the day as I fell asleep contemplating my options.
Never Too Late For 