Un-dampened

In spite of afternoon rain...

Forlorn, almost empty marina.

Former chunks of the Benjamin Islands guarding the entrance to our Kagawong harbor.

Where's Paxton?

Not a rolling stone.

But in the morning we were able to do some logging; rip, cut, and stain more boards. But then the rains came and the wind started building.

Quickly getting up to our ash in firewood.

In pursuit of the "something on the water every day" pledge, I took Geode the Dingy (story title Ab) for a good long row in the rain, and there is nothing half so much fun as simply "messing around in boats." While in Geode, I spent five minutes rowing the Kagawong river (looking for salmon), steadily upstream—but going nowhere. Possibly something metaphorical in that.

Flat or Round?

Another perfect day with a good south wind. Warm but pleasant.

But the flags are up, with wind warnings, flood warnings and small craft advisories for tomorrow afternoon and beyond. Right now all is calm and quiet, with only the crow's discussion of where to roost breaking the silence.

I watched the live stream of the big Apple (new iPhone, Apple Watch) event while Sue sanded, stained, and varnished boards. But after that I emptied the dishwasher and went to the dump.

Dhow?

Photo courtesy Mary Ellen

At least, that's what the boat looks like, although we are far from Denial. We took Bruce (our marina manager) and his wife, Dot, for a lively hour-and-a-half bay outing.

More logging in the morning for me, while Sue and ME went to class in GorB—can't wait to see the test results.

The gentians are now thinking about setting seed, the asters and goldenrod are winding things up, and the sumac is turning color. There's a message in all that, even though we may not want to hear it.

Three Blind Mice

Actually, four, but that doesn't work as a headline. If it's true that what goes up must come down, it is not true that when mice go down they can get back up. These mice have been returned to the wild. Others make a one-way trip to the dump. So far, although it is mouse time, none has made it into the house.

The morning spent logging—pulling out and chopping up the ash trees on our, and adjacent to, the property. Necessary, as poachers are working the Lane, taking off the high BTU stuff felled by the Hydro juggernaut.

This afternoon, a great, high speed Windride... 

Woods and Water

Cool and clear, with coffee on the lower deck, a walk with Pax through the woods, some cottage work, a Windride, and steak dinner at Pinebox followed by a documentary on winemaking in the Burgundy region of France.

Bruce, our marina manager, came with me on the Windrider sail, and it was the first time he had ever been out on our bay. A fun and lively ride, providing him with a new perspective on his place of employment. 

Seiche!

Not sheesh, but seiche, although sheesh! seems appropriate under the circumstances.

We awoke to find this fine mess, although overnight there was no big storm and no big surf. Puzzling a first, but then the realization that the only explanation was a seiche, the Great Lakes equivalent of a tsunami. Some online checking showed the hypothesis to be correct. A big Lake Superior seiche flooded parts of Sault Ste. Marie, and another sieche hit the west shore of Lake Michigan.

That's the one that I think got us. Caused by storms with large differentials in atmospheric pressure, a big wave starts sloshing around the Lake, and as in a bathtub, takes a while to settle down. At three this afternoon the water was way, way down; this evening (about 6) I watched in real time as the water rose over a rock that has never been submerged this year. Once again we are in flood.

We had to move the Susie Pea and the green kayak up to higher ground, and then tie and weight the pier in hopes of preventing it from floating away.

Sheesh. 

All Quiet on the Eastern Front (deck)

(Sorry, Erich Maria Remarque, but blog headlines are difficult to come up with.)

We spent the day under threat of a massive storm moving from Minnesota across Wisconsin, Lake Michigan, and the state of Michigan, only to see it dissipate in the North Channel.  Cloudy, with a strong SE wind, presaging foul weather, but, ultimately, a false alarm. (The mural of the story is to not look at radar, (ass Ladle Rat Rotten Hut wood sigh.)

Ignoring the weather, we worked on a bit of interior trim, and some touch-up painting.  And then, as the highlight of the day, went to the library, which is now on winter hours, and only open Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, and Saturday mornings. I had picked up volume 4 or 5 of the Shetland series (now on BBC) by Ann Cleeves) but figured I might as well start with the first volume in the series, Raven Black, only to find that the "official" librarian was long overdue on returning the volume, and I was SOL. To the rescue, of course, came Amazon, and I am now, having left the moors and ice fields of Iceland and Arnaldur Indridason, out on the moors and ice fields of the Outer Hebrides (via the iPhone and iPad). Gotta love a awful climates, however you get there.

(BTW, looking over pervious posts, it appears that I seem to have tried, but failed, to identify my previous read,  Hammond Innes' The Last Voyage, a fictional recreation of Captain Cook's journal of his third expedition, this time trying to find a north-west passage from the Pacific to the Atlantic across the top of North America. An expedition attempted not so long ago (1776 to 1779), but back when the planet Earth was quite less known, and long before Google Earth. (Cook of, course, ended up meeting his demise in the Sandwich Islands, not in the polar ice, which, alas, has melted to the extent that there is now, actually and at long last, a possibly usable north-west passage.)

Here, the stairway to higher learning, or, more prosaically, the Billings Public Library, to which I rode by bicycle, with a stop at Fraser Beach for a walk with Pax (who arrived by alternate transportation.)

Sunflowers in the Sand

What are these doing on Sandy Beach?

Perfectly fine, warm and sunny day, with a good breeze and lower humidity, so Sue took advantage of the conditions to bleach and paint the underside of the wicker porch furniture, which once again, thanks to all the damp, had started to smell (I helped a little.) But mostly, while Sue was wielding the spray gun, I went sailing on the Windrider and got the sails so perfectly balanced it sailed itself from Sandy Beach to the marina.

The other night, before the internet outage, I was having trouble with that evening's blog. Fortunately a couple of helpers came to the rescue...

Service Restored

...after a 72 + hour outage. Vianet is a nice company and the service is far better that what Bell provides, but still. Of course, it was the long weekend.

A beautiful day with a lively WSW breeze so we took Heliotrope for a romp out to Harbor Island and back, 6.5 to 7 knots both ways, with the old girl glad of the chance for a frolic.

Wolf, who was on the dock at point of departure came along and had a fine time but at times seemed a bit awed by the boat's speed and power.

Pax was a good sport, although bouncing around on a slanted deck with spray flying in his face is not his most favorite thing.

Perfect half moon tonight in a perfectly clear sky.

Outage

Heavy rain all Friday night, with thunder and lightning, and then about 6 a.m., as it was just getting light and the younger Nies family was up getting ready to move to the car and depart for points south, the power went out. Surprisingly, though, for not more than a few minutes, which made the candles unnecessary and water available for washing and flushing. It could have been worse, but that was the last of the internet, and this being the long weekend, no service until possibly Tuesday. Little sleep was had that night by nearly everyone (although the girls did fine). I, being up in the garage, was substantially deafened by relentless pounding, and had to stuff the edges of sheets in my ears to even contemplate sleep.

Saturday, we groggily stowed pools, sand toys, swings and frog box away, in anticipation of next year, and then settled in for an afternoon of heavy rain.

Sunday, Sue and I both went for long rows on the Susie Pea, went grocery shopping in GorB, I had a chat with Todd about an new head in Heliotrope, we had lunch at Bouys, and we both read books. (I am reading We are adjusting to not having email, news, the New York Times, Facebook, Google News, and blogging.

Today, Monday, Labor Day in the U.S., and the third day of the long weekend and the official last day of summer here on Manitoulin, we went with John and ME on a photo expedition west and then south—Poplar Road, Union Road, Scott Road, White Church Road, Grimsthorpe Road, etc.—arriving at the fish and chip place in Providence Bay on the second-to-last day of their service. Monument Road and Jerusalem Hill Road on the way home.

After an hour's nap, Sue and I took Heliotrope out of the harbor for the first time in a long time, but, only briefly because of threatening conditions. Just a short way out in the bay we experienced wind of 30 knots, and under reefed job and mizzen were burying the rail and having to luff up (fisherman's reef) to spill the excess air. We closed the main hatch and tied off the spring line just as the rain started. Once again a tropical deluge dropping inches of rain and flooding the swales, but moving out after just a few hours. More to come, I am quite sure as the wind is still strong from the south.

Pictures to follow if and when internet service is restored.