1024 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Dec. 24, 1910. 
A Short Cruise. 
Being situated on Grand River about a mile 
from Lake Michigan, and the same distance 
from that beautiful little body of water (nearly 
seven miles in length), called Spring Lake, 
naturally the boys of Grand Haven enjoyed 
swimming and sailing and in the winter the ice- 
boating. 
From the time that we were old enough to 
paddle around the saw-mill log booms on the 
squared shingle cants, we had longed to be able 
to take a trip on the water during our long va¬ 
cation, but we lacked the craft to carry us. 
There is an old saying, that “all things come 
to those who wait.” Be that as it may, at last 
we heard that a large yawl lay near the pier 
sunk in six feet of water. Upon inquiring, two 
of the older boys found the owner and pur¬ 
chased the boat for a few dollars. It may be of 
interest to some to say a word or two about the 
history of this old boat. 
For many years it was one of the life boats 
of the passenger steamer Alpena. During the 
great storm in October, 1880, the Alpena was 
lost with all on board, some seventy souls. A 
few days later one of the life boats washed 
ashore near Holland, Mich. Some fishermen 
bought it to use in setting and raising their 
nets. They rigged a spar and sails and used it 
several years. The man from whom the boys 
obtained the boat had used it as a sailboat, but 
had taken little care of it, so many repairs were 
needed. 
Many afternoons and Saturdays were spent in 
making these repairs. New planks, several ribs 
and a half deck were added, and after caulking 
and scraping, with the adition of a coat of paint, 
one would hardly have recognized the old craft. 
Unalloyed pleasure was derived from the Red 
Star, as she was christened. A cruise was taken 
up Grand River to the city of Grand Rapids, 
forty miles inland at the head of navigation. 
To this day we recall with pleasure memories 
of those two weeks. But in yachting, as in other 
things, the more one gets the more one wants. 
Our craft was old and unseaworthy. We 
were afraid to venture on the big lake. The 
yachts that ran into the Haven for a day or two 
and then went on their way up or down the 
coast were our envy, and it was the height of 
our ambition to do likewise. 
The old Red Star came to a glorious end as 
the bombarded ship in a Fourth of July cele¬ 
bration. 
Our school days came to an end, and the boys 
became separated but tried to get together for 
a week or two in the summer. So along to¬ 
ward the last of July I received a letter from 
Grand Haven, saying that a cruise had been 
planned for August and asking me to join the 
party. I arrived in Grand Haven on a Monday 
morning, and after meeting the boys, we walked 
down to the docks to see our craft. A clean 
roomy sloop measuring 27 feet in length with a 
half-deck and broad wash board. With the ex¬ 
ception of a new strap on the main sheet block, 
everything was in readiness. This was made in 
a few minutes and then we took a little spin 
down the harbor. We reached our mooring 
just in time to sit down to a good dinner. There 
being no cause for further delay, it was decided 
to start the next morning. Consequently the 
afternoon was a busy one for our supplies, bed¬ 
ding and general cargo had to be arranged for. 
The morning dawned clear and bright with a 
light breeze blowing in from the lake. By 8 
a. m. we had packed most of our traps on to 
“the old buckboard,” as we always called it, 
which belonged to one of the boys, and with 
which so many trips had been taken on Satur¬ 
days when we would take our guns and go 
squirrel and rabbit hunting. Although expect¬ 
ing to make an early start, it was ten o’clock 
before we were ready to cast off and bid adieu 
to our friends who had come down to see us 
depart. 
Taking a short leg across the river, we stood 
off on a long reach down the harbor. Two 
more tacks and we were able to clear the piers; 
then we laid our course for open water and 
plain sailing with the wind across our quarter. 
And now as to our party; there were seven 
of us—Edward Soule and his brother Fay, Ed¬ 
ward Cummings and his brother Herb, Harry 
Mower, Harold Cherry and Ben Glover. The 
last two and Edward Cummings formed the 
port watch and Edward Soule was captain of 
the starboard watch. In all of our trips it was 
always distinctly understood that the work and 
responsibility should be borne equally. While 
the captains of the watches had general super¬ 
vision of the sailing while on duty, still each 
one had his turn at the tiller and as lookout 
or cook. 
The wind failed to hold, and the sun beat 
down on us without mercy. Old Baldy, an 
immense sandhill, whose summit is white and 
barren, was sighted and passed, and just ahead 
could be seen the break in the hills at the outlet 
of Mona Lake, or Lake Harbor, as it is more 
generally known. The sand dunes along the 
east shore always reminded me of an immense 
dyke with openings every here and there to let 
the rivers out. 
As we neared Muskegon Harbor, we saw a 
yacht bearing out to the north. Being further 
off shore we made better time and soon made 
out her name, “Frolic, Chicago.” During the 
afternoon the wind was very light and little 
sailing was done. 
At four o’clock the dog watch went on. 
Supper was prepared, and how those doughnuts 
did disappear! They were a donation from the 
ladies, as were also some pies and cookies. 
Along about dusk the unfailing land breeze 
sprang up. The sun beating down on the white 
sand beach all day makes it very hot. The hot 
air rises, and after the sun goes down, the land 
cools more rapidly than the beach and water, 
and so a current of air is coaxed from the land. 
Captains of sailing vessels know this, and if 
possible, when the wind is very light, will get 
in near the shore at evening time so as to catch 
the land breeze. 
As the sun sank below the horizon the eve¬ 
ning gun was fired and our flag taken down. 
About three miles dead ahead there was sighted 
a low pier close inshore. We all supposed that 
it was White Lake. Running in toward shore 
cautiously, for it had grown quite dark and the 
breeze blew much smoke out on the lake from 
the forest fires, we raised the centerboard and 
soon after eased away the peak of our mainsail. 
The breeze being a little fresh and being in new 
waters, it was thought wise to cast the lead. 
Standing up on the deck forward and support¬ 
ing himself by the fore stay, Fay threw a 
weighted line ahead and then yelled, “Hard 
aport; come about; only six feet of water!” 
Every one jumped at once. All sail was 
lowered and a consultation held. The dark out¬ 
line of the hills and the smoke made the low 
black pier almost invisible. No lights were 
visible, and it was certain that it was not White 
Lake. 
Proceeding with two long sweeps and avoid¬ 
ing too shallow water, we nosed in between two 
old edging docks—the site of some saw-mill 
years ago. Taking a lantern, two of the boys 
went ashore to investigate. In the meantime 
the rest of us congratulated ourselves that we 
had not run hard aground on a sandbar in the 
dark. Fay took all the credit for our escape 
and said that he should be appointed a petty 
officer at once. 
Within a few minutes the boys returned and 
reported having found an old fisherman who 
told them this was the outlet of the creek from 
the pond called Duck Lake, and that White Lake 
was nearly three miles north. This was hard on 
us, for the sun had been hot and it was our 
first day out, but the sails were hoisted and 
we were under way without the loss of much 
time. The night was very dark and the smoke 
so thick, that no lights could be seen. 
It was thought best to keep in deep water, 
even if it would compel us to tack back to 
shore, as the wind was blowing from the east. 
Inside of an hour we were beating into the 
harbor. The Life Saving Station was hailed 
and the watch told us we would find good 
anchorage around a point at the foot of the 
lake. It was nearly midnight by the time we 
got in, having made a run of twenty-nine miles. 
As our boat had no cabin, a tent had been 
made to fit over the cockpit. The topping lift 
and throat halyards were used to hoist the tent, 
which hung from the lower side of the boom. 
This gave shelter from rain and dew, and was 
much cooler than a cabin could be. 
During the night Herb woke up the whole 
crowd by shouting, “Heh there! can’t you see 
our light? You’ll run us down if you don’t 
look out.” He was sure some vessel was ap¬ 
proaching, but next morning all there was to 
be seerf was the side of an old barn near the 
shore which he had mistaken for a boat. We 
all took a plunge before breakfast, and what 
sport we did have! 
Breakfast was eaten without much ceremony, 
and while some washed down the decks, the rest 
were baiting hooks in the hopes of catching 
some fish. But the fish kept clear of a boat 
full of noisy boys. Before long the anchor was 
catted and we were under way for Montague 
and Whitehall at the head of the lake, six miles 
distant. The southeast wind compelled us to 
tack for two miles, but then the lake ran more 
to the north and we bowled along rapidly. Just 
as we began to pick up, Herb caught a large 
black bass with a trolling line. Inside of three 
minutes each had a line trailing astern, but not 
another bite did we have. two tugs with a 
large scow in tow were coming down the lake 
with a picnic party. Fay and Cherry unlimbered 
the gun,' and as we passed them, our salute 
rang across the water, being echoed again and 
again by the hills on either side of the lake. A 
shrill blast from the tugs and a shout from the 
crowd was heard in answer. By this time we 
had almost reached the head of the lake, and 
as we all wished to go uptown, stopped at an 
old saw-mill dock below the general landing 
place and made everything snug and shipshape. 
We had fun in the small town, and we took 
everything by storm. First we all trooped into 
a drug store and ordered milk shakes—the only 
thing drinkable he had—and the man had to 
send into his neighbor’s to get enough milk. 
One of the boys wanted a shave, and we decided 
that each would get one. In five minutes every 
barber chair in town was filled. In order to 
make a sure thing of our dinner, we went to 
the town inn, or boarding house, and reported 
that seven hungry guests would be on hand at 
noon. t 
Edward Soule, Edward Cummings and Glover 
walked over to Whitehall, which is directly 
opposite Montague, to get the mail. There 
were several letters from our friends. Needless 
to say that full justice was done to our dinner. 
Vegetables and sweet corn that had been picked 
right out of the garden. One can almost taste 
them now. 
Soon after dinner we prepared to leave port, 
having Muskegon as our next stopping point. 
It was a long beat against a fresh wind, and a 
reef would not have been uncomfortable, but 
after close hauling everything, six of us climbed 
upon the weather rail and we lay right down 
to work. A lookout was constantly kept for 
deadheads and snags. A deadhead is a log 
which has become water-logged at one end and 
leaving one end just at the surface. 
During the afternoon our first landing place— 
Duck Lake—was passed, and as the day wore 
on, the swell went down and a light breeze 
sprang up from the southeast. 
For supper we had coffee and crackers, 
baked beans, wheat porridge and strawberry 
preserves with bread and cucumbers—condensed 
stomach ache, as one of the boys called them. 
After dark the stars came out brightly. We 
all wrapped up in our blankets and sang songs 
with variations, being accompanied by Soule on 
the mouth organ. He volunteered to play a 
solo, attempting “After the Ball,” but the com¬ 
pass of the instrument was only half way up 
to the upper notes. 
About 9 p. m. Muskegon light was sighted, 
and we lay our course accordingly. We were 
obliged to tack between the narrow Muskegon 
piers against a stiff shore breeze and thought 
best not to run into Muskegon Lake, for fear 
of running into piles and snags, so we lay along- 
