Showing posts with label Long Point Bay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Long Point Bay. Show all posts

Tuesday, 15 April 2014

Ruh Roh.


     "I've been looking too hard, I've been waiting too long..."
                                                                         -Foreigner



     The Dock closes for the season on October 31.

     November 1, the waiting starts.
 
    November 1, We start to count down the days until we can get back in the water, back on the Dock.

    When the winter is long, deep, dark and cold, that count is important- it reminds us that winter is not never-ending, no matter how permanent  the ice and snow feel.  
  
    November 1,  we start to focus on April 15- Opening Day.

   This was one seriously long-ass winter, but by the end of March there was some hope.

   The Marina parking lot was (mostly) free of snow...




... even if the Dock was still (mostly) iced in, what with the temperatures remaining stubbornly sub-freezing, sub-seasonal and just generally submarining my mood.




By the end of last week things were looking up.  The air temp had increased rapidly, causing mist to rise from the thawing Lake on a rare (at least, this season)  string of two warm sunny days,  making Lake Erie look decidedly, er, eerie:



   Turns out, the Marina did not escape winter unscathed. With a relatively shallow depth,  limited room for ice to move, and a harbour mouth open to the prevailing winds, the ice froze thick, froze hard, and fought everything it came up against.  Like the docks:



The repairs were under way, but...





According to a note taped to the cash register at Bridge Yachts ...


Okay, so for all intents and purposes, it looks like Opening Day will not be Opening Day, but that is okay because it is getting warmer and finally starting to feel like spring, and it's all good, I tell myself...
... and then I wake up this morning  to this:

SNOW.


ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDIN' ME?!!?



   
Sooner or later, we're gonna get in the water.

    Right?





   While we all wait for spring to damn well finally get here all permanent-like, please continue to "Talk the Dock!"






        

Saturday, 2 April 2011

Small boats, Great Lake, Bay Close-up.

       "A fella beeped up in an automobile, said you wanna work in the tobacco fields..."
                                                                                                -Stompin' Tom Connors

     Better grab a refreshment now.  This one's a long one.

     In an earlier post I scribbled:
     "There seems to be something about the extreme southern regions of every country that makes them a little different from the rest of the surrounding nation. The Riviera is nothing like Normandy, Brixham isn't Cambridge, Melbourne's not Sidney and New Orleans sure as hell ain't Kansas, Toto.

    I am not going to theorize on the reasons why this downward-bound eccentricity occurs, I just know that it seems to hold true.  Maybe it isn't a matter of direction as much as it is proximity to a large body of water, but if it was only water, Baffin Island would be much more interesting than it actually is.  So, it seems like the "south" part is an integral component of this spell.  Adding more empirical evidence to this theory is the fact that Norfolk County is not like any other place in Canada."

   And then proceeded to babble about something completely different.  Now that we've got the Lake Erie overview out of the way, I figured I should go back and pick up on this theme.

    When Dollier and Galinee decided to Park in the Bay, they met the Neutral Indians, whose fortunes were caused to Reverse by the European Drive to explore , leaving their numbers Low.
Oh come on, it's not like you wouldn't automatically go for the cheap chuckle as well.
Okay, I'll stop, before somebody beats me with a stick.
That was the last one.  I promise.

      In time the bay became home to British settlers, notably United Empire Loyalists escaping from the Thirteen Colonies who established farms and mills and an ironworks and life was pretty much Little House on The Prairie-esque, except for Long Point itself.  We'll cover that sandspit of eniquity in a later post, but it was a pretty rough neck of the woods before the US Civil War.   Port Rowan, Port Ryerse, Normandale, Turkey Point and Port Dover were founded.  Fishing became  a big industry toward the end of the 19th century, about the time that Port Dover started to became known as a tourist destination.  On the whole,  things stayed pretty staid in sleepy Norfolk County until the mid-20th century, when a new crop became popular....
...Tobacco.



      Until WW II, wheat and corn were the big commodities in the county, but after the war, farmers were quick to see the big rteturn from small acreage that tobacco could provide.  Nobody local knew how to grow or pick the stuff, so croppers were imported from the southern United States and French Canadian migrant workers handled the grunt work.  By the 1950s, Norfolk County was the heart of the Tobacco Belt,  boasting tobacco auctions and huge tobacco warehouses, and the influx of newcomers made a mark on the region.

   (The next bit is best read in your best Casey Kasem voice.)

     One of those newcomers was a young guy from Arkansas named Ronnie Hawkins. Not a tobacco cropper per se, young Mr. Hawkins followed the tobacco road north, figuring, on the advice of Conway Twitty, that there might be a market among transplanted Southerners for the sounds of home.  He formed a local  version of his Arkansas band, the Hawks, with his old pal Levon Helm,  newcomers Robbie Robertson, Richard Manuel, Garth Hudson and Simcoe's Rick Danko, and played clubs and small country dancehalls throughout the Tobacco Belt.  The Hawks garnered some serious acclaim and respect from their contemporaries; Bob Dylan liked the Hawks so much, he persuaded them to leave Hawkins and back him instead.  Later, they went onto considerable success on their own as The Band.


     By the late 1980s the southerners were long gone and the Quebecois were moving on,  replaced by Mexican and Caribbean seasonal employees.   Thousands of "off-shore" workers toiled in the fields during the growing season, and they brought their cuisine with them.   Many of them liked the area so much they decided to stay, leading to a thriving Caribbean community.  Today, most grocery stores around the bay stock a locally made tortillas, salsa verde, jerk sauce and tamarind soda,  and there are a growing number of  venues serving authentic Mexican and Caribbean comfort food.

     Meanwhile, at the opposite end of the bay, an industrial revolution was underway.  In the 1970s Ontario Hydro built one of the largest generating plants on the continent at Nanticoke, and a steel mill and oil refinery soon followed. Apparently, Ontario was running short on engineers and homegrown power plant know-how when all of this heavy development was taking place, because a large number of the longtime employees originally hail from Scotland and Wales, adding their own imprint to our cultural mosaic.


The planned city of Townsend was designed to house the warm bodies needed for this  industrial megolith, a population projected to exceed 100 000.

  It never happened.  Townsend today is a sleepy bedroom community with a few hundred residents, no retail establishments, and no plans for any future growth.


       Just as big things were happening on the farmland, life on the bay was changing as well.  The perch fishery boomed, and with the big demand for perch came a demand for bigger fish tugs.

  As the boats grew, they outgrew smaller ports like Port Ryerse and Port Rowan, leading to their decline in economic importance while boosting the economy of Port Dover, one of the only ports on the Lake that could accomodate the boats,  the gear that support them, and the fish processors who handle the catch.

      Tourism was changing as well.  Bikers discovered Port Dover, and Port Dover discovered bikers.  While other communities would likely throw up roadblocks if thousands of black clad Harley riders rode toward town, Port Dover rolls out the welcome mat every Friday the 13th.  In the early 80s a group of motorcycle riding friends decided to meet in Port Dover for an informal get together on Friday the 13th.  Since then the event has exploded, thanks to support from the community.  In 2010, on the 50th Friday 13th rally, it is estimated that upwards of 100 000 people showed up. The next one is Friday May 13th- Docksters, should we have a gathering to start the season?
http://www.pd13.com/dates.html



    Because of the huge numbers of motorcycles and spectators who attend, the town is closed to four wheel traffic for the day. Although "Parking is available outside of town and shuttles run continuously" as the ads point out, there's no better way to experience the 13th than from a boat.
  

      The Victorian and Edwardian era of genteel bathing and rowing a punt in a boater and jacket has given way to...
...Pottahawk.


   Every July thousands of boats and boaters flock to Pottahawk Point on the shore of the Point for music and babes and bikinis and booze.



       Pottahawk is to Turkey Point what Friday the 13th is to Port Dover.  Turkey Point is all about having fun, with a number of bars, restaurants, PWC rentals,  a cottage industry of cottage rentals, which all grew thanks to a long beautiful beach.  More Pottahawk info:   http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=60027933849


     Alright, if you've read all the posts to this point, now you're up to speed on the who, what, how and where.  I'm not sure I can even begin to explain why.


   As always, thanks for checking us out.  Please feel free to "Talk the Dock."  Link us, follow us, tell your friends!

Sunday, 27 March 2011

Small boats, Great Lake, Zooming In..

     "Ooh, a storm is threatening my very life today..."
                                                    -The Rolling Stones




      At the end of our last thrilling episode, we were looking for shelter.    When a storm kicks up on Lake Erie, the wind usually howls from the West,  pushing the lake East in the form of big nasty waves.  Therefore, when looking for an anchorage to wait out the weather, the smart at-risk skipper wants a bay that will provide some protection from those waves coming from the West, ideally with a navigable river or two for added wind and wave-buffering comfort.   Long Point Bay is the answer to an imperiled mariners' prayers.

   Long Point is the er, long, uh, point you see in the picture above, aimed vaguely east.  The longest freshwater sand spit in the world, Long Point's benevolent shelter fostered the growth of thriving fishing, lumbering and agricultural enterprises over the past several centuries.  The bay enclosed by the point is almost 500 square kilometers

      As groundbreaking and cutting edge as we are here on Dock Six, we aren't the first to seek shelter on Lake Erie.  Humans have been using Lake Erie as an aquatic highway for millenia, from the Neutral Indians onward, and unfortunately there is no record of the first unscheduled landing.  There is however, a record of the first landing by hapless in-over-their-heads white guys.
  

  In the winter of 1669, a band of French explorers and two missionaries, Frs. Dollier and Galinee, wintered over on the north shore of the bay at the spot where Port Dover would later grow.  French New World exploration was the 17th century equivalent of the Apollo space program... if NASA was run by the Vatican.  The French monarchy, encouraged by reports from explorers returning from fruitless shortcut-to-China searches, dispatched more intrepid adventurers to explore, map and claim all the land  and riches they found.  Oh yeah, and since the Roman Catholic church was bankrolling a substantial part of these forays, priests were in command of many of these wilderness treks, bringing the capital-G God to any and all heathens encountered, which is the long way of explaining how Dollier and Galinee ended up here.

     Apparently so relieved at surviving the Lake and the winter, and eager to do their part for their king and their God, the priests erected a cross with the King's "arms" at the site.


With that, the north shore of Long Point Bay became French.

      It didn't mean much.

      In the spring of 1670 the missionaries and their paddlers set off farther west, and never returned to the Bay.

     By the end of the next century others had discovered the bounties of the bay, and mills, forges, farms and ports were born, grew and declined.  The only port that continually grew and thrived was Port Dover.




     In future posts, we'll explore Port Dover and gunkhole around the bay.  I hope you'll join us!




Thanks for joining us here on the Dock!  If you like what you see, bookmark us, link us, follow us or just plain pass us on to your friends!