Harrisville to East Tawas and Port Austin
Morning came early. The clouds were low and the drizzle constant. There was no wind and the seas were flat. I put on my rain suit and crawled out to find a dark hazy mist hanging over the harbor. The black ghostly silhouettes of the fisherman sitting in their boats peeked through if you looked long enough.
I stowed the sail cover and set us free. Stopping at the fuel dock I topped off the tank. Then grabbing a warmer hat I slid through the obstacle course of eerie faceless men in row boats, hunched over in blankets. It all looked like an old black and white movie.
The thirty year old outboard chugged along fearlessly as we rounded the seawall and disappeared into the mist heading blindly for the open water. The sea was like glass. This was good news for the rudder repair.
I motored East through the mist braking free of the fog line about three miles out before swinging her South down the coast. I set a course and hit the autopilot, poured a bowl of Raisin Bran then
like the fishermen huddled down wrapped in a blanket starring off into space.
I eventually followed the shore as it wraps to the west rounding into the Saginaw Bay. It was a long, wet and cold day but the rudder was handling the calm water well. I had the coordinates for the Tawas Point Buoy entered into the GPS and there it teased me. The little dot never seemed to get any closer. Once I saw the Light House peek above the trees through the binoculars I knew I was getting close.
The motor never missed a beat and the sails never came out. The air was still all day. I was excited to be at the harbor as I closed in on the buoy. I rounded it with a feeling of accomplishment only to realize the marina was still a little spot on the shore a couple of miles a head yet.
I slid past the seawall through the gray drizzle like a ghost ship. I picked one of the end slips on the floating dock and tied her up feeling pretty proud the girl was back in the game. The harbor master yelled across from the dock house that he would register me in the morning as he locked up and ran for a warm dry home.
This was my first visit to East Tawas. It quickly became my favorite party hole on the Lake Huron shoreline. I measured the distance from the boat to the bathrooms, it was just under a half a mile. But the shower house was worth the walk. I got cleaned up and put on my freshest clothes before setting out on a night of pillaging.
The small town charm of the main street greeted me with open arms. The town was lively and the Rail Road Tracks running past town held an old time locomotive pulling several classic glass top dinning cars from an era long since forgotten. The polished old Iron stood proudly before the towns folk.
It was the annual Train Days festival in East Tawas. Vintage trains and equipment everywhere. The dinner ride was pricey and sold out. I vowed to return the following year and do the dinner cruise. The whole town was like a big Rail Road Museum. I was in heaven.
The first two businesses you run into to are Mr. G's Italian restaurant and Barnacle Bill's Bar. I hit them in that order. The food was warm and filling. Then I had a blast in Barnacles, The drunks in there were great.
The bartender gave me a nod at closing time and set a drink down in front of me as he threw everyone out and locked the doors leaving a few of use at the bar.. We laughed and carried on into the night. We drank boat drinks well after hours as he slowly did his clean up.
The stumble back to the dock was an experience all be itself. I could see the docks from the bar. Downtown ends where the marina begins. and the bar was just past the tracks separating the two. Leaving the bar the air was warm and calm. the rain had quit hours before and the streets were dry. But just across M23 and the tracks the weather off the water becomes sharp, wet and cold. The contrast was stark making the long hike out to the docks surreal yet brutal.
Come morning I refueled and headed out into the bay leaving town straight behind me as I sailed due south for Port Austin and the top of the "Thumb" of Michigan. When I lost sight of land behind me it would be hours before Port Austin would come over the horizon. The waters were calm and the sails pulled me lazily across the water. Rough seas commonly roar up out of Saginaw Bay making this crossing hit or miss. Today was a lucky first crossing.
After a couple of hours with no land in sight the first radio tower poked up over the horizon. Slowly followed by the water tower and the tell tale seawall. It felt good. For the first time on this trip I was entering familiar waters. I was docking just in time to catch one of the famous sunsets. Port Austin is know as the best sunsets on the East side of the state.
I had sailed into this port many times from the south. This would make life a lot easier. All the way points were already charted and entered into the GPS. This was huge as it meant I didn't have to do home work every night with the charts and a charting tools figuring out coordinates of the reefs and assorted way points good and bad. It was tedious work that interfered with my pillaging.
Port Austin features an even smaller and older down town right at the end of the docks. 
town is dominated by an even better Italian restaurant and the obligatory neighborhood bar full of over served locals Actual horse hair dart boards and a worn out cigarette burned pool table.
I pulled my bicycle up in front of the bar and leaned it against the Korean war era VFW Howitzer displayed on the side walk.
I Pulled out my lock and chain and locked the bike to the cannon and turned to see all the laughter was coming from the drunks in the bar looking at me though the windows. Turns out they had never seen anyone use a bike lock before. Small town old school values are the best.
I fell right into the crowd and had a blast. Once again come closing time the barmaids told me to put my bike in the kitchen as they locked up. It turned into another after hours bender. Boat drinks and barmaids. I almost fell over climbing on my bicycle I was so drunk finally rolling down the hill to the docks near dawn. We laughed so hard that night my ribs hurt.
I climbed into the deck of the boat like a gladiator. My rudder had held for it's first test under sail and I had drained the little town of every drop of fun that was to be had. It was a day to remember. The electric space heater had the cabin warm and cozy. The bed was finally dry, first time in days. I slept with a smile till noon.