Crossing Lake Michigan

For the first three weeks of the sailing trip, it seemed like all I thought about was getting to Chicago as quickly as possible. “Chicago is my FAVORITE CITY,” I’d tell Grace as I tried to convince her to do another 50+ mile day. “It’s my PRIOR HOME and I want to see my FRIENDS and order UBEREATS and visit THE SCHOOL WHERE I USED TO WORK.” Accommodating as Grace was, Mother Nature had other plans, and we ended up spending three frustrating days stuck in Pentwater where most of the stores were closed and we were bounced around in the harbor all night long despite having about seven dock lines.

Finally, finally, finally, on a Friday, we were able to coordinate Mother Nature’s weather schedule with Mr. Pytell’s work schedule, and we picked him up in Grand Haven, keyboard and all. (Seriously, we have a keyboard on Elpis now. Catch us playing groovy tunes at a marina near you.) The trip was a little over 90 nm, and the first several hours were forecasted to be wind out of the east. When we left at 1 pm, the lake was entirely glass. Grace drove and caught her dad up on the adventures of the past few weeks, and I got to spend a few hours reading Wild by Cheryl Strayed (incredible book, 10/10 would recommend). We tried to put some sails up later that evening, but we were heading directly into what little wind there was.

As Grace went down below to sleep for the first shift, Mr. Pytell and I watched the sunset transition into a pitch black night. It was eerie; for the first time (except crossing Saginaw Bay), land was completely out of sight. In the dark and without AIS, I was certain we were going to get run over by a freighter. As we got within fifty miles of the city, however, a yellow glow was just over the horizon, south of where the sun had set. We realized it was Chicago. Seeing the lights of the city light up the bottom of the night sky made my heart ache with nostalgia and longing to be a part of it. I pictured all the people I love there, living their separate lives yet within a few miles of each other. As wonderful and exciting as sailing the Great Loop is, I miss Chicago so much.

Around 11 pm, the wind had built enough to shut off the engine and sail. I finally tried to sleep around 2 am; however, the wind had built so that I wasn’t sleeping so much as getting slammed repeatedly into the side of the v-berth. Lake Michigan didn’t want us to leave, and it wasn’t giving up without a fight. By dawn, the wind had built out of the south to 20-22 knots, leading us to spend several hours fighting 4-6 foot rolling waves. At any minute, we expected the dinghy we tow behind us to capsize. All of our possessions and food down below had spilled off their shelves and onto the floor. During the last agonizing push to the harbor, we put a reef in the main. Between the heel of the boat, the cold spray from the waves, and the very minimal amount of sleep, by the time we got into Belmont 20 hours after departure, land had never looked so good.

P.S. Huge thank you to Libbi and Nathan for coordinating and getting us a place to dock for a few days and to Mr. Pytell for making sure we survived the crossing. We appreciate you!!!

"No pictures!"

sleep > food