An email last winter from my friend Phil jumped out from the basic inbox clutter:
"Want to fish Lake Superior from a sailboat?"
Attached to it was an itinerary for a sailing trip in August across Lake Superior. The journey was to begin in Bayfield, Wis., with a crossing of the Big Lake — Lake Superior — to Isle Royale, and then back again nine days later.
Did I want to come along?
Well, Phil had my attention. The invitation to me and several others said the focus would be fishing and adventure. Fishing and sailing are two of my favorite outdoor activities, but I have never combined them into one trip.
As it's one of the least-visited national parks, Isle Royale is on my bucket list. Years ago I had been given a map of the park with the idea of driving north, taking a ferry and then hiking with another buddy. Sailing across Lake Superior to get there added an intriguing and enticing dimension.
Two weeks before the trip, however, I still hadn't yet committed to Phil. Life complications included a new hunting pup, my recent shoulder surgery, and a need to plan how my 14-year-old son, Solomon, would be taken care of. My wife and daughter also were going to be out of town. When Phil said there was room for Sol to join, that was all I needed to hear.
Even if my surgeon told me that sailing was off limits, I was going to make this trip happen. After all, an offer to go fishing on the largest freshwater lake, in a sailboat no less, doesn't come across the bow of many 14-year-olds.
Time to cross
The trip began on a sunny Friday afternoon. We left Bayfield's harbor and motored through the Apostle Islands. At the outermost landmass, appropriately called Outer Island, we did one last check on the weather radio and made the decision to cross the lake.
Living aboard a sailboat for more than a week has challenges, but we got into the routine of how to move with others on the boat. We were assigned sleeping locations; Sol and I were in the V-berth up front.
Phil's boat, named Patti Rose, is a 33-foot Pearson Vanguard. Built in the 1960s, these classic boats are known for their resilience and ability in rough waters. And, while the weather forecast looked pleasant, you never know when the Gitche Gumee tosses a curve.
"Capt." Phil scheduled four-hour watches for each of us on deck. The job was critical: We passed through active shipping lanes during the night. He told us we'd be motoring most of the time as the winds were light and we needed to make good time given it was more than 100 miles from Bayfield to the island.
It was 2 a.m. during our crossing on the first night when I suddenly woke up. Something was amiss. The engine had stopped, and we were dead still. More unsettling was that we were in a bad spot: the middle of the shipping lanes we were wary of. I made my way to the back of the boat. Phil was opening the engine compartment.
For the next half-hour, he pulled apart the fuel system of the diesel engine. He was searching for what was assumed to be a blockage in the fuel supply. He finally found it. After 20 minutes, we were back and moving. Sol slept through the excitement.
Over the years I've found that it's these unexpected situations that give a trip the true meaning of adventure. And while a bit nerve-racking they are all part of the fun.
We made it to the southwest tip of the island early the next morning. The first marker you pass on your way to Washington Harbor is the Rock of Ages lighthouse. Built in 1908, it's a reminder of the great efforts put into keeping vessels like the one we were on from hitting the reefs and shoals, which would easily tear apart the hull of the boat.
Today, boats like Phil's have radar, sonar and GPS. Vessels like his are significantly safer. These tools provide the ability to "see" other boats as well as rocks just below the water surface. The other benefit is the ability to locate fish that are hidden in the deep channels, 100 feet and more deep, beneath us.
Wetting a line
Waters off Isle Royale hold lake trout, coho (aka silver) and chinook salmon, steelhead and more species. The plan was to locate fish with our electronics. We would then use downriggers mounted on the back of the sailboat to go deep with our offerings of shiny spoons and darting J-plugs.
The challenge with fishing from a sailboat is that you are subject to the whims of weather and water conditions. It is a challenge to hold a good line at a good speed when the winds are too strong or coming from the wrong direction. Trolling is much easier from a power boat. That said, the combo of fishing while under sail is something to relish in its beautiful profile on the water.
While our group had some success fishing under sail in the first few days, it was Day 4 and Sol and I still hadn't caught anything. My only goal for this trip was for him to catch a big lake trout or salmon. We decided to switch things up and made our way to the dinghy. It had been deployed the day before from the deck of the sailboat. The small inflatable was set up with rod holders, electronics and even a downrigger. Three of us, including Sol, motored to the middle of the deep harbor just beyond where we were anchored.
We trolled through the bay using Dipsy Divers. These small discs made of plastic and metal are attached to the fishing line just above the lure. They help the lure dive to depths where the fish are located. After an hour of trolling with the "dipsies" in 100 feet of water, there was a sudden tug on a line. Five minutes later Sol was reeling in a beautiful lake trout of just less than 8 pounds. The next evening our whole crew enjoyed a dinner of grilled lake trout and stories of the day's adventures.
Our trip continued a couple more days. The schedule included Solomon's highlight: snorkeling at the SS America shipwreck (which went down in 1928 shortly after leaving Washington Island), as well as visiting lighthouses, learning about wolf and moose management from Isle Royale resident researchers and picking wild blueberries.
Living in the United States, we're blessed to have an abundance of public waters and lands like the Isle Royale National Park. Going to national parks, forests and wilderness areas gives us an opportunity to connect with nature in unique ways. And it reminds us of all we have available to experience and share today and steward for future generations.
A friend of mine from Montana once said that Americans get to live like kings with our wealth of natural resources. The riches of Sol's and my Isle Royale adventure were a testament.
Mark Norquist, a lifelong hunter and angler, is the founder of Modern Carnivore, which uses video, podcasts and special events that connect outdoor learning with wild foods.
