Mike & Jim preparing for departure
The next morning, we heard some heavy gusts through the trees. “Light and Variable Winds my ass” was our reaction to the official NWS forecast of a couple days ago. The adrenaline started before the boats were loaded, even though from our limited vantage point things looked pretty benign.
The plan was to head northeast from Stony Point across to Clark Point in as expeditious a manner as the taciturn lake would allow. Things began auspiciously enough, but as we traded the blocking influence of
Starting on the crossing to Clark Point
North Hero Island for the blocking influence of Popasquash Island (which is about a bazillion times smaller and farther away), we started to rock and roll. This water was BIG. The winds seemed to only be in the ten m.p.h. range, but the waves, which occasionally were in the 3 to 3.5 foot range, hadn’t gotten that message. Fortunately, these were not breaking waves; rather, they were fairly steady swells with interspersed minor chop and a smattering of whitecaps. Nevertheless, it was an unsettling feeling, and I now have a good idea what it might be like to paddle open canoe in the open ocean.
Our route pretty much left us with beam seas coming from our right (southeast), and this orientation lead to a pretty weird phenomenon as we stroked our way north. Despite the wind coming from the southeast (which should have pushed us northwest) and the waves rolling with the wind (which also should have flushed us in the same direction), our canoes definitely drifted to the northeast (in fact more east than north) with no effort. My suspicion is that, with a heavy stern, the waves were swinging the boats so that as we paddled we were slightly quartering the oncoming waves.
At any rate, I never felt unsteady or in danger. Whoever said the SRT excels in big lake water was absolutely right…the boat did everything I asked of it and more. When the time came to turn downwind so I didn’t smash myself to pieces on Hog Island, it even caught some swells for brief but exhilarating surfs. We all eventually made it across and at the first opportunity landed on a beach to kiss the shore and let the adrenaline levels subside a bit. Jim confirmed for maybe the fifth time that day that he hated big lakes.
Looking back at the madness we crossed.
Our next challenge (this last day seemed to be throwing plenty at us) was to make it under two bridges in to Missisquoi Bay. This sounds pretty easy, and in the case of the Route 78 bridge it was, but before we got to it we had to get under a railroad bridge. The bridge, which was only about 4 feet high, is set on large piers set maybe 4 feet apart across the entire width of the lake, except for a section near the center that is set on a large mechanism that rotates to allow larger boats through. Hoping to avoid paddling that far out into the maelstrom, we sought a way through the piers.
The problem was, for quite a distance, all of the piers marching from the eastern shore were blocked with cross bracing. Once we found openings without the cross-bracing, we found most to be inhabited by the stubs of former piers, the tops of which winked in and out of sight in time to the swells. So, we picked one that seemed to be stub-free, approached cautiously, and essentially surfed our way through the wickets.
Tommy and Jim in Long Marsh Bay
Once in Missisquoi Bay, things got a lot easier. The waves calmed down to the “one foot or less” that the NWS was predicting, and we had a pleasant paddle past Donaldson Point into Long Marsh Bay. The delta hiding the mouth of the Missisquoi River was pretty obvious and, unlike many travelers before us, we had no problem finding the correct channel. GPS is a beautiful thing, but I think a good map is enough in this case.
Jim and I enter the mouth of the Missisquoi
At the mouth, we met a couple guys fishing, and Jim asked them if “this was the way to Louie’s landing”. They replied in the affirmative, and suggested that they hoped we had “eaten our Wheaties” (people up in Northern Vermont evidently still use that expression)because we had to paddle against the current into a southerly wind. Ha! If they had only known what we’d paddled through that day already!
Mike bypasses Mac's Bend and heads upriver.
Needless to say, the Missisquoi presented no obstacle whatsoever. The current was negligible and easy to paddle against. The wind put in a half-hearted effort at slowing our progress, but we were equal to the challenge. We saw quite a few motor boats going up and down the channel, carrying either fishermen, or duck hunters with enormous bundles of evergreen branches to use for blinds. Tommy, Jim and I stopped briefly at Mac’s Bend for a break, but Mike kept at it. Ten or fifteen minutes later, we followed him, and I sprinted for the finish, catching Mike just as he hit the boat ramp a hair ahead of me.
It was a phenomenal experience to take on the challenge of solo canoeing across Lake Champlain, and we all enjoyed it immensely. Even Jim, despite frequently asking us all if he had mentioned that he despised big lakes. I think it is safe to say that we all agree (especially Jim) that we are unlikely ever to try it again. We never had any major problems, but I think we all feel like we got away with one.
Shiva doesn’t blink often.
Total Mileage for the day: 12.5 miles
Total Mileage for this segment: 35.6 miles
Total NFCT Miles to date: 478.1
