At End of Whiplash - Seventh in a Tow: Schooner Days MCLVI (1156)

by C. H. J. Snider

Toronto-Manitoulin, 1868 - 5

WE take the broad Straits of Detroit for a hundred mile highway more easily negotiated than the Welland Canal, nowadays, because we have all got power of some sort, outboard, diesel, or 6-cylinder something.

But for the sailing vessel, be she yacht or timber drogher, the Straits of Detroit have always presented one-way difficulties, that is, for those bound "up" or northward, from Lake Erie to Lake Huron. The current is against the upbound sailor all the time, it makes every bend difficult to follow, and at the Lake Huron entrance it runs so strong that nothing but a fresh following wind will get her "over the hump."

The Straits of Detroit are in three sections, the Detroit River, the dredged channel across shallow Lake St. Clair, and the River St. Clair. There are beautiful reaches with little current where yachts disport themselves, but for twenty years now sail has been banned from the buoyed channels—and the Straits are lighted and buoyed now like city streets.

Here the "Keep Off" sign is out for everything with canvas wings.

Traffic through the Straits is so heavy—a vessel every twelve minutes—that zig-zagging can no more be permitted than on a six-lane highway, for sail cannot navigate the channels, either up or down, without a certain amount of deviation. The fault for this lies with the wind, not the helmsman.

Consequently, when bound down, as soon as the sailer reaches the Port Huron lightship, a mile above the entrance, the lightship blows her horn. If the sailer does not "turn on the juice" and start lowering away, the lightship blows again, and the coast guard darts out for its prey. In two minutes the guard will have a line aboard and tow the offender into pound. They may tow her clean through to Lake Erie—but that would be cheaper than having to pay thousands for blocking the channel.

Upbound, one has to use power anyway, either a tug or the auxiliary.

Our little friend the Ripple, which sailed from Toronto for Manitoulin in 1868, had, of course, no "power," being an out-and-out schooner yacht of the great era of sail. To pass the Straits she had to get a tug. Tows of four or five schooners behind one tug were not uncommon in those days. Wm. Cooper Campbell, R.C.Y.C., thus described the Ripple's passage to Lake Huron, in her log book:

August 5, Wednesday.

Weather fine and hot.

Wind: East.

Distance to noon, 47 miles.

"We have at last got hold of a tug. A light breeze having sprung up, we weighed anchor and stood off and on at Bar Point below Bois Blanc light, at the Detroit river mouth, ready to catch on to any tow that may come up. Just after breakfast the tug "Hector"appears in sight, with four vessels in tow. We hail him and he slows just enough for us to get our towline on board the sternmost vessel, and we are off.

It is something novel to see a tow on the Detroit River.

Our little tug, by no means one of the most powerful, had four vessels, two brigs and two schooners beside ourselves, each one towing behind the other. When we got up to Detroit she took on two more, working seven of us in all, and reaching fully a quarter of a mile. This saucy little thing carried us along at the rate of five miles an hour, looking like a little pygmy hauling along a lot of giants.

This towing is awful hard work, we being astern of all, are like the lash of a whip. When the first vessel yaws about, all the others follow, until we are pitched from one side of the river almost to the other.

We reached Detroit at noon, and laid up for an hour at Windsor, then pushed on, and at night were out on the Lake St. Clair. The scenery up the Detroit River is very pretty and many things remind me of the first old settlers, the French. The names of places, some quaint old houses, the small fields, and many old ruined windmills, all contrasted strongly with the usual appearance of the country on this continent.

Thursday, August 6.

Weather fine and hot.

Wind: S.E.

Distance to noon: 83 miles.

Our brave old tug carried us well across Lake St. Clair and up St. Clair River. Our only mishap was being nearly run down by a steamer, as we were lashed about against our will at the tail of the tow. Some strong language was used, as the channel was very narrow, but we did not come into collision.

About noon we reached Sarnia where the current is very strong. At Point Edward, the terminus of the Grand Trunk Railway, it runs seven miles an hour. If it had not been that the wind was fair, our little friend the tug would have had a hard job to take us out. But we all spread our sails to the breeze and between us came out in good style.

We have been hard at work painting all day in a broiling hot sun, the only mishap being an accident of the captain's, who let his green paint brush drop out of his fingers and paint the cockpit an unnecessary color. We have had our awning up and can make ourselves jolly comfortable after our work.

Out at last on Lake Huron, we haul aft our sheets and stand for Goderich with a fair breeze from E.S.E. and reach there at 12.30, a distance of 60 miles, having run it in about 9 hours.