The Most Scenic Power Plant Ever

I am not sure where the boundary between Upper Lower and Lower Lower Michigan is, but I'm pretty sure than when you sail 'round the thumb' that forms Saginaw Bay you are in Lower Lower Michigan.

After an overnight sail from Presque Isle the only harbor with enough depth of water to get Whisper into was Harbor Beach, a hopefully named town whose main features are a power plant and a Dow Agrosciences plant. But the people of Harbor Beach are very excited that their neighboring town, Bad Axe (I'm not kidding), has a Super Wal Mart.

The marina staff, fully aware that Whisper draws 6 feet, directed me to an inner slip. After 24h of hard sailing I was desperate for a shower and the charms of shore power, ice cubes in my drink and a good cup of coffee. It was not to be.

Making the turn into the slip Whisper plowed her keel firmly into the silt, stopping short of the dock by a good 10 feet. It was only with the mighty heaving and hauling of several dock neighbors that we got her into her slip.

Early the next morning I set off in search of a wi-fi connection, Sprint not having discovered this part of the world. As it turned out, the marina had wi-fi, but the signal didn't reach the docks.

Needing to transact some important business via the web (like updating this blog), I parked myself in the shade on hard concrete next to a bait storage freezer so I could use the only 110v outlet at the marina.

My business required several phone calls while on the internet so, with the bait freezer humming loudly in my ear I dialed.

It also turned out to be the day that all the Harbor Beach fire trucks were getting their hose pumps tested. So bait freezer humming, fire trucks pumping I sighed and tried to do my business. At which time, the maintenance crew decided to mow the lawn.

There I sat, on a concrete sidewalk, laptop on lap, cell phone in ear, bait freezer humming, fire trucks pumping being sprayed with grass clippings at ever pass of the mower.

Somehow I maintained my composure until, when needing to use the restroom, I discovered that my feet had gone to sleep. So, on hands and knees, I crawled off toward the restrooms hoping some semblance of lower leg control would be reestablished before my arrival.

I was only too glad to pull Whisper out of her slip, with much heaving and hauling, stirring up silt all the way, and repair to deeper water where we anchored for a sublime sunset of purples and lavenders and pinks and golds and the most scenic power plant ever.