As I inched closer to the harbor I was able to make out the break walls as I crested the waves. I just wanted to reach out and be there . I fought the good fight until I could make out the fishermen on the seawall. It was the Steelhead Trout run and the walls were shoulder to shoulder with people hoping to catch one. It's a right to passage in Michigan. Families pack picnics and set up camp on the break walls and shorlines near inlets where the huge fish are returning to spawn. The event creates a festival like atmosphere.

As I slowly got closer, The claws of death were loosening their hold. I could see people laughing and having fun completely oblivious that out behind the waves halfway to the horizon was a ragged little man in a small dot of a boat fighting for his life.

The waves pushed me right to harbor's seawall. The entrance of the harbor is on the south side and shallow. I knew it well. As I slammed from wave to wave I mentally started to plan my entrance in to the sactuary. It was teasing me from half of a mile away. I couldn't drop my sails until I rounded the seawall out of the weather. The plan was to come from the north, swing around just past the seawall and enter from the south. Putting me dead into the wind so I could drop the sails.

The only major hurdle left was doing the turn in the waves. It would require me to lay dead in the water sideways to the waves as I make my swing to the entrance. The waves were shorter and sharper now due to the shallow waters. I didn't know if she would flip but as the beach is within swimming distance I had to do what I had to do.

I think the part that sticks in my mind the most was looking up at the dozens of people walking on the seawall unaware I was in trouble. I spent hours on the edge of death and was struggling in exhausted and drained on my last breath and within shouting range families watching me from a different world, seemingly without a care. Laughing and dancing around dodging the spray of the waves coming over the wall.

The boat throw me around in protest while I hung off the transom twisting the motor like a steering wheel. I made it around the horn and slide into the calm waters of refuge between the seawalls. I crawled up on deck and fought the flapping mainsail to the deck in the 35 knot wind. I was beat up before it was done.

The mainsail was sprawled across the deck and half ass lashed down with whatever I found. But as I fell back to the stern to steer me out of the rocks, I was almost in disbelief that it was all about to end. I motored along the back of the break wall rounding into the harbor full of emotions from an event of a lifetime. The contrast between my state of mind and the partiers on the break wall just seemed overwhelming.

There was still a hurdle between me and dry land. I had to get into the slip. The high winds were roaring across the docks blowing right to left. There were three open docks midway down the boardwalk. The water was calm but the screaching wind howling from my starboard side made it a daunting task without a tiller.

The best I could do was use the motor to position the bow into the wind and crab walk towards the docks. I aimed for the dock closest to the wind and planned to take whatever hole I hit.

I took a deep breath and pointed the nose towards the docks just enough to catch the wind. I had a dock line readied and ran through my next move in my head. I crossed the small harbor racing the motor trying to keep the bow from bearing off with the wind while I approached the docks crab walking at a 45 degree angle.

The wind pushed and the motor pushed back until I was within range of hole #2. I twisted the motor and swung the bow around starting the free fall towards the old wooden docks. Things were moving fast as I cleared the first dock poles before the dock. As the bow entered the slip I was moving fast. Too fast.

I threw the motor into reverse and hit it to full throttle. I grabbed the dock line and with a mighty leap I dove for the dock. The plan was to jump on the dock and get a wrap of line around the dock cleat and horse the boat to a stop.

The boat is in mid crash into the dock, The outboard is past it's redline screaming with all it's might to slow us down and I was leaping several feet across to a dock well above the deck.

It seemed like slow motion. As my feet hit the dock I was jerked to a stop like a dog chasing a squirrel reaching the end of his chain. I forgot I was strapped into the boat with a safety tether. It connects to my chest on my life vest so when I ran out of leash it grabbed me and spun me around. I was falling back into the spinning propeller between the dock and an out of control boat crashing into the dock.

The thought of making it this far and drowning now rattled through my brain as I saw the blur of a dock pole flash by my eyes. I grabbed it with both arms. I felt a short feeling of elation then realized I'm still tied to 1500 lbs of screaming boat passing under me with wreckless abandon.

I wrapped all of my arms and legs around the post and with what little strength I had left hung on literally for dear life. When the tether pulled tight I was spun around the gnarly post before the final tug of war as the boat twisted sideways and came to a crashing stop.

I jumped off the dock into the cockpit and killed the motor. I threw a wrap around the dock cleat with the stern line I had grabbed originally and without hesitation marched straight down the dock toward solid land.

There I trembled from the wet cloths and uncontrolable emotions. I sat on the grass for at least an hour in a mental limbo. I didn't want to ever get back on a boat again. Not even at the dock. I started this venture 3 weeks prior and had failed.

After I calmed down I went sucked it up and went back to the boat, It was all I had. I tied her off properly then did my best to run the shower house out of hot water.  I thought about walking up to the bar but didn't have the strength.

Climbing over the algae and slime covered rudder and into the cabin I closed her up and crawled into the wet soggy bed planning on calling my friend Chris in the morning and arrange for him to bring my trailer up and pull her out.

Soul Searching in Port Sanilac