First sail of '99

Finally, after much work on boat and house, we were ready to bring Necessity to her new home at Windmill Marina and spend a day on the water. Picking up where we left off, we got a late start and didn't get in the water until after 2pm. The marina was turning away trailer boats for lack of space, but we had a place reserved in their dry slip lot (they call it Store 'n Launch), so we got in.

We motored north around Catfish Bar and turned into the wind. Following the usual first sail tradition, I forgot to insert the battens before raising the mainsail. After taking care of that, we settled on a broad reach and began heading upriver. We had about 10mph of fairly steady wind from the south, sun, and 80-degree temperature. Just about perfect.

Even the powerboaters were behaving themselves. For many people, Memorial Day weekend is the first boating weekend of the year, and it's usually very busy on the water. This year was no exception, but it didn't seem as crowded as last year. That might have been due to the high water level that, until two days before, had caused the Powers That Be to impose a no-wake restriction on the entire river. People were being courteous and it was a great day to be out. The kids were clamoring for us to visit our neighbors' hang-out north of the I-94 bridge. We decided to head up that way to find a beach, but Julie and I didn't want to drop in and mess with their first real weekend on the boat. The kids went up to the bow and passed the time singing and yelling when the occasional wake would rock us.

We continued north, gybing across the river until we were close to the bridge. I decided to douse the sails and motor under the bridge. Just north of the bridge is the Hudson marina, and the anchorage there is usually too full on holiday weekends to permit maneuvering under sail. As it turned out, there weren't many boats in the anchorage yet. We motored north under the bridge and turned to pass Beer Can Island to the east, past where our neighbors usually beach their boat.

Normally, the south end of Beer Can Island cannot be approached due to the shallow water that extends about ten yards out. Those three trees in the middle of the photo are usually several feet from the water.

If we hadn't noticed the high water level before, there was no mistaking the situation as we motored past the island. It was more of a bump than an island. Every foot of shoreline was occupied by a boat and its attendant cluster of BBQs and beach chairs. We spotted our neighbors, Kim and Judy near their boat and we exchanged waves. About then, the depth meter started chirping a 10-foot warning. Last year, we had grounded in 2-3 feet of water here. The meter showed seven feet at one point, then went back up as we got into more open water. We turned north into the channel and passed Goose Island, named by us last year when we picnicked with some geese there. Goose Island was completely under water - only the trees marked its location.

About that time, a southbound sheriff's patrol boat passed us. The kids waved and the boat turned and pulled alongside. I put out the fenders and the deputies checked our safety gear. We had everything, so I was surprised when they gave us a written warning for having the kids on the bow. It seems that on the St. Croix, which is a border river between Wisconsin and Minnesota, with a special regulatory commission, you can't "bow ride" unless you have rails or lifelines. Huh. Never heard that one before. Our first waterborne run-in with the law. But, the deputies were polite, we were polite, and we learned something.

We continued north though the railroad swing bridge and spotted a sliver of beach where we might be able to cook dinner while the kids could play nearby. We had beached here before, and knew that southbound powerboats would approach at full speed before having to slow to no-wake before the swing bridge. I put a second anchor out onto the beach off the stern to keep from swinging when those wakes came. It worked well, though we were rocked a few times. The kids played in the water and on the beach while Julie and I got the BBQ going and cooked the bratwurst.

Mandy relaxes on the way back to the marina.

Cooking brats on a Magma grill is a bit like having a semi-controlled grease fire. I'm sure we were doing something wrong, but they came out edible, if not perfect. I'm going to have to reread the manual that came with that grill; there has to be a better way to cook brats on that thing. After dinner, we shoved-off and headed back to the marina. Once clear of the bridge we found a light wind on the nose, so we decided to motor back. Dan went below and snoozed while the rest of us listened to music in the cockpit. The boat traffic had thinned out quite a bit; we hardly had any wakes to deal with on the way back.

We got things cleaned up and mounted the solar panel and vent fan before calling it a day and driving home. It felt a little strange to leave Necessity at the marina. Julie disliked the fact that "her baby" was going to get dirty out in the open, and we would have to be sure to clean her well next time. At home, we discussed putting a few feet of lifelines off the pulpit so the kids could be up there legally. We'll probably do it, but that'll few a few hundred bucks and a number of hours we hadn't planned on spending. What else is new?

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