We like to plan a sailing adventure each summer. This past summer we sailed from Holland to St Joe to Chicago to Kenosha to Milwaukee and then back home (over the course of several days). This day of the journey was the leg sailing from Kenosha to Milwaukee. As usual we checked the marine forecast. There were thunderstorms in the forecast. The morning looked like it would have some light showers. A larger storm was forecasted for the afternoon. This leg of our trip was 32 nautical miles, and so I estimated between 5-6 hours for the trip. We opted to leave in the morning with the plan to get to Milwaukee before the big storm hit.
The first part of the trip was fine. We picked up coffee and pastries from a local coffee shop before we set out. Lake Michigan was calm as we sailed from Kenosha toward Racine. We had favorable winds for the 1st two hours and we were able to keep the motor off. We watched the weather radar and decided to motor sail (motor on plus sails out) to pick up speed. Once we passed Racine it started to rain. I went down below and put on my swimsuit. I figured then I wouldn’t mind sitting outside at the helm and in the rain. Later a chill came in the air and I went and put on a raincoat. Sarah, JJ (my daughter) and Jeannette (my sister-in-law) went below and out of the rain. Jim (my brother-in-law) put on a raincoat and stayed on watch with me at the helm.
As we sailed, in the distance, we saw a solid gray wall form in front of us. We sailed into the wall of fog and were in very short order completely surrounded. We could see the front of the boat and a just a little bit further.
There are a few things that you can do when you are sailing in fog.
- A watch (lookout): Of upmost importance is having a good watch. You should have at least two people looking very closely to make sure there are no other boats in your path. Jim and I agreed that it was a good thing that it was raining. We reasoned that we were less likely to run into fisherman in small boats who likely wouldn’t be so foolish to be out on Lake Michigan in the rain.
- Radar: Radar can be very helpful. Unfortunately, I don’t have radar on my boat.
- GPS: My GPS based chart plotter is an amazing help. It did a great job showing us where we were and allowing us to continue to safely navigate.
- AIS (Automatic Identification System): I have installed an AIS receiver. Commercial vessels are required to transmit a VHF signal that includes their location, speed, direction, and identification for the vessel. This data shows up on my chart plotter. Not everyone has AIS but at least we wouldn’t miss spotting a freighter or other large vessel in our path. We did see the AIS signal from the Lake Michigan Express making its way in and out of Milwaukee.
- Foghorn: Standard conventions say that you should broadcast a long blow every 2 minutes to warn other vessels of your presence. If you are under sail you blow one long and then 2 short. We were motoring and so we would blow the boats horn every 2 minutes.
Suddenly, I felt very nautical as we sailed along, sitting in the rain holding the helm and blowing the horn every 2 minutes. As I did so I thought about my grandfather.
My grandfather was a fisherman in the upper peninsula of Michigan. Years ago, he told us a story of getting caught in a big storm on Lake Michigan that I described in a previous blog post[1]. When he finished telling us about the big storm, it was my grandmother’s turn to tell a story. She told us about the night of the fog.
She was at home with the kids. My grandfather had gone out fishing like he had done many times before. As the day turned to evening, he didn’t come home as he normally did. She waited. And then she waited some more and she started to get worried. Eventually she drove down to his boat landing. From the landing all she could see was an amazingly dense fog out on Lake Michigan. She didn’t know what to do. She sat in the car directly above the landing with her headlights on. She waited and she worried.
My grandfather picked up the story from here. He said the fog came in quickly just as he was heading back in. It was long before satellites or GPS technology. He had no way in the fog to find his way. The UP shoreline is rocky. The only way that he could get to his dock was to find the passageway that he had cleared through the rocks. He motored up and down the shoreline looking through the dense fog. The fog was so thick he couldn’t see any of the shoreline. There was no way for him to see any of the familiar landmarks that he used to guide his way in. He had no idea what he would do. Night came on as he motored back and forth hoping for an answer.
Suddenly he saw lights shining through the fog. He had no idea what the lights were but decided his best hope was to aim for them and hope for the best. He motored until he was directly offshore of the lights. He made a 90 degree turn and aimed directly for them. He motored on slowly toward the lights worrying that any minute he would hear the crunch of a rock crushing into his hull. Eventually he was near the shore and he could see his dock. He breathed a sigh of relief as he tied up his boat and walked up the hill to the waiting car and my very relieved and happy grandmother.
I pulled my raincoat around me to hold out the chill in the air. I reached down and pressed the horn button to sound our 2-minute fog warning. This story played in my mind as I followed the GPS track on my chart plotter. I could see the location of the shoreline, the water depth, the location of the McKinley marina in Milwaukee and the location of the Lake Michigan Express as it buzzed into Milwaukee. I imagined how terrifying it would be if I had no way to know where the coastline or the marina was. I looked down at my compass thinking how it would be very hard if that were my only guide. I zoomed in the screen on the chart plotter so that I could identify the rocky shoreline and the discreet channel that we needed.
We were getting close to the marina. The chart plotter showed the channel markers. There should be channel markers. Where were they? I felt anxious having to trust the GPS. Jim and I strained our eyes looking for the channel. Suddenly beside us less than a boat length away the channel marker appeared out of the fog. I jumped a little bit when I saw it. It was much bigger and closer than what I expected. As we passed it the fog cleared and the McKinley Marina appeared in front of us. I breathed a sigh of relief as we tied up the boat to the fuel dock and I climbed up the hill to check in.
On this blog I normally tell an analogy or a lesson from the story. In this case it is different. The point I am making is that everyone has stories. The stories can be rich and wonderful.
I have thought often of my grandparents and the fog. I can picture my grandmother sitting in a 1930s/40s car watching with worry and hope. I can imagine my grandfather with a pit in his stomach motoring back and forth trying to figure out what to do. They lived interesting lives. Knowing who they were and what made up their lives is important to me. I’m grateful that they shared their stories with me.
Everyone has stories.
Learning them brings rich flavor to life.
Take the time to hear them. Ask. Listen.
You will be richly rewarded when you do.
[1] https://manmedicineandmike.com/the-storm-an-amazing-story-from-my-grandfather-learning-to-live-through-and-face-the-storms-in-life/
