Cruising the Big Lake a Late Summer
Evening
By Bob
Coughlin
The air was benevolently warm as we skimmed the surface of
the calm lake last Thursday in my old Sea Ray. We were a quarter mile off shore
of the Mentor Lagoons, cruising Lake Erie, one of the world’s largest and most
beautiful lakes. Late summer, the sun sinking down now before 8 pm, the sky
glowing red, creating a path of gold from the setting sun to the shore.
Around 7 pm the onshore wind begins blowing, enough to fill
the sails of the boats from the Mentor Harbor. About a half dozen sailboats go
out onto the lake, hoist their sails, and follow the wind toward Fairport
Harbor and the Grand River. Coming back against that wind will take some skill,
tacking back and forth back to the Lagoons.
We head east, toward the Fairport Harbor Light at the
entrance to the Grand River. Our first vision is the eroding clay cliffs near
the Lagoons. There are yellowish, grey, and brown strata on these cliffs, in
the most interesting whorls, carved vertical by 15-foot waves from last fall
and winter. Perched precariously on the lip of the cliff we see gigantic red
oaks, their roots partially exposed, waiting for the gales of November to go
diving into the Lake. I hate to see these ancient giants go! Right on the rim
of the cliff a deer browses on some grass, oblivious to the danger and unaware
of its own surprising beauty. This square mile of beach and upland forest and
marsh is thick with nearly tame deer.
We move further east at about 20 knots, along the mile-long
wild shoreline, one of the only undeveloped shorelines on the south coast of
Lake Erie (which, interestingly, is the north
coast of the United States!). I see a few walkers, with their dogs racing along
the beach. A guy throws a stick into the lake, and a big yellow lab plunges in
after it. The perfect joy of being a dog chasing a stick!
Further east the beach is totally empty, as close to a
wilderness as we have in Northeast Ohio. Driftwood, some of it the remnants of
giant red oak and cottonwood, litter the beach. Back from the beach about 50
feet I see a small grove of willow trees and cottonwood. Then eroded hillside,
full of small trees and some rather exotic shrubs, more reminiscent of much
further south—yucca is everywhere; even some prickly pear cactus in the sand
right below the hillside. Don’t these plants know what January is like in this
environment? The lake will freeze, maybe freeze solid; then no more warming by
a benevolent heat sink, the Big Lake!
Now, only a mile or two from the mouth of the Lagoons and a
perfectly calm lake, a chop kicks up—not bad yet, but the Sea Ray begins
rocking and rolling. I’ve learned to relax with this movement, not worry about
it. My first couple years with this boat I would shift into panic mode when the
lake kicked up. Not so much anymore.
We move further down toward Mentor Headlands and the great
sand beach, a quarter mile wide and a mile and a half long. There are still a
number of late-summer visitors on the beach, most of them on shore, lounging,
reading, some playing beach volleyball. We cruise the boat very close to shore,
maybe 200 feet off the beach. Many people wave to us and we wave back. A few
hardy souls are in the water. Today is one of those days when the water is
warmer than the air. The trick is to get in. I do it slowly and painfully; the
brave and smart ones jump right in and get the initial shock over with quickly.
Soon we are along the wild part of Headlands beach, where
there are no lifeguards and where the sand dunes are covered with beach oats
and other hardy plants that can handle the wind and the sand. This part of the
beach is nearly empty of people and is littered with driftwood and the trunks
of giant trees. I remember how, as I kid living in Euclid, my brother Denny and
I would launch one of these logs and ride it a mile out into the Lake. Today’s
over-protective parents would have a hissy fit with something like that! Heck,
police would probably get involved and the Coast Guard would come to the
rescue!
As we approach the Grand River breakwall, I steer the boat
south so we can enter the harbor by the lighthouse. I notice the lake is really
kicking up now, contrary to the weather predictions I heard earlier on the
marine radio. As I make the turn around the far end of the breakwall, we
experience big waves and intense rocking and rolling. And then I see off the
port side a small sailboat flipped over in the water. Three people, not wearing
life jackets, are clinging to the boat and waving frantically to me.
I want to call a mayday in to the Coast Guard (who are
stationed less than a mile from this very spot), but the urgency is to get
these people out of the water. Linda grabs 2 telescoping hooks we use when
we’re docking. She also grabs several life jackets and the life preserver ring
to throw to the people in the water.
I maneuver the boat close to the overturned sailboat, careful
not to hit anyone with the 5500 lb boat. Linda throws the ring to the teenage
girl in the middle of the three and launches three life jackets to them. The three
are frantic as they try to grab the life jackets and get them on as they tread
water in the now very rough lake.
I wish I had another hand on board, but decide I need to
make the mayday call to Channel 16 right now. Believe it or not this is the
first time I’ve ever called on my marine radio. I sure hope it works. I call
the mayday and the Coast Guard answers immediately. They are on their way and
should be here in minutes. I hope it’s not too late.
By now Linda is using the telescoping hooks trying to reach
the outstretched hands of the folks in the water. They all have lifejackets
now, but only one was able to get it put on correctly; the other two are
grasping them to their chests. Linda reaches the teenage girl and begins to
pull her toward the Sea Ray. The girl reaches the swim platform and, with help,
is able to climb the boat ladder and board the boat (which is bobbing and
twisting in the increasing waves). Linda turns toward the other woman--she was
not able to put on the life jacket. She grabs for the telescoping hook and Linda
begins to pull her toward the boat. She gets to the boat but is too weak to
climb the ladder and pull herself on board. She grasps the boat’s ladder,
holding on for dear life.
The third boater in the water has begun to drift away from
his overturned sailboat and my Sea Ray. Luckily the Coast Guard is approaching
in a speedboat that looks like it’s doing 60 knots if anything. As it approaches the man in the water, a
guardsman dives into the lake and comes up behind and under the victim. He
secures the man with a line and attaches an inflatable device of some sort.
Another Guardsman reaches out with a real hook, one meant for the purpose of
saving a person in the water. He quickly draws him to the Coast Guard boat and
pulls him in. The rescue is over. Everyone is all right.
I haven’t had time to even think about what was happening. I
notice now that my heart must be beating 150 times a minute and my head is
throbbing. I feel suddenly nauseous and want to be back on terra firma.
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