The Wonderland Of The Bruce Peninsula

I was in awe. The views around us were breathtaking. It was mid- afternoon in early July, sunny and a comfortable 68 F, and we’d just anchored La Tasse, our Island Packet 380, in 15 feet of Georgian Bay water. Mostly alone in the quiet anchorage on the northern end of the Bruce Peninsula, at Cabot Head, we’d been eyeing these towering tree-topped rock formations since setting off a few hours earlier. But in this up-close setting, these formations – several miles long, wide at the top, and rising several hundred feet – were somehow even more spectacular.

La Tasse was hooked in the shadow of the Niagara Escarpment, a geological wonder made of dolomitic limestone stretching 650 miles from southern Wisconsin across Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, all the way around Lake Huron to southern Ontario. Also known as the “Giant’s Rib,” this ancient wonder is a protected national treasure. We’d been exploring the five Great Lakes and adjacent waters by boat for more than a decade, logging more than 5,000 nautical miles in the process, and had never seen anything quite like this. Even Lake Superior’s famed Pictured Rocks seemed overshadowed by comparison.

Georgian on our mind

This trip began from our home port of Manitowoc, Wisconsin, with a destination of Georgian Bay, the last (for us, at least) unexplored large body of water on the Great Lakes since we started cruising in 2008. We’re the type of cruisers who stop every day and often favor staying at marinas because we want to be part of the harbor towns along the way. To us, it’s about the journey, not the end destination. We crossed Lake Michigan on a cool 55-degree day and worked our way up and around Michigan’s lower peninsula. After spending a night at Presque Isle Harbor Marina in Presque Isle, Michigan, we set off for Tobermory, Ontario. We made the 80-nautical-mile trip across Lake Huron in 111/2 hours, benefiting most of the way from a helpful northerly breeze and, at times, our trusty Yanmar diesel.

We’d heard little about Georgian Bay from other sailors. Those who shared stories were usually passing through from the better known and more frequently visited North Channel, a narrow 160-mile stretch of scenic cruising along the north shore of Lake Huron. We certainly hadn’t heard about the magic of Bruce Peninsula, however.

An unexpected surprise

“The Bruce,” part of the Niagara Escarpment, extends 70 miles north and west from Owen Sound, Ontario. The peninsula ranges from 5 to 10 miles wide and “creates” Georgian Bay by separating Lake Huron’s waters along a mostly north-south plane. The only water access from Lake Huron to Georgian Bay is at Tobermory, at the northern tip.

The peninsula’s larger towns – Tobermory, Lion’s Head, and Wiarton – are on the bay side. All have comfortable harbors, excellent dockage, and well-staffed marinas. The anchorages at Cabot Head (Wingfield Basin), Melville Sound, and Colpoy’s Bay are protected, have good holding, and are picturesque. The daily distances to be traveled between ports and anchorages exceed 25 nautical miles only by choice.

Georgian Bay is sometimes referred to as the “sixth Great Lake” because only the narrow peninsula separates it from Lake Huron, and with a surface of 5,800 square miles, it’s nearly as large as Lake Ontario (7,300 square miles). And it’s deep, particularly to the west and near the Bruce Peninsula. The deepest water, around 600 feet, is found off the peninsula’s northern coast and near shore. Our depth sounder regularly showed 250 feet along the entire coast, and often the depths were unreadable!

From resource to treasure

Georgian Bay was the gateway to the Great Lakes region for the early French explorers. In 1610, from what is now Quebec City, Samuel de Champlain sent a team up the Ottawa River with Algonquian traders to explore the area and learn about the Indigenous peoples.

Champlain’s “discovery” did not turn out well for the Indigenous peoples. Contact with Europeans led to disease and alcoholism. Following the Beaver Wars, a series of conflicts among various tribes backed by European trading partners, the Ottawa River route became the “highway” for the emerging fur trade. Pressure for lumber and fish from incoming settlers became so great that within 20 years the already fragile peninsula had become a wasteland and largely abandoned. Reports from the time chronicle clear-cut forestry, with the brush left behind fueling widespread fires. Overfishing left stocks depleted and another local industry extinguished.

It wasn’t until the 1980s before the peninsula attracted new settlers – cottage owners – who rediscovered the natural wonder. The Canadian and provincial governments established parks, including both the Georgian Bay Islands National Park and Fathom Five, which consists of the islands and bay waters to the north and east of Tobermory. Taken together, they encompass more than 100 square miles in Northern Bruce Peninsula. The parks not only encourage tourists and their spending but preserve a significant portion of this special place.

A developing playground

In the summer months, the peninsula is alive with tourists. The shops, restaurants, and bars, especially in Tobermory, are busy. For us, this was a mixed blessing. Our berth along one of two long docks for transient boaters was also a busy place, adjacent to the town’s boat launch ramp. For a time, we nervously kept watch as the rented kayaks with predominately inexperienced pilots slid past our hull. Most, but not all, missed us. That minor angst was easily offset, though, by the courteous and friendly boaters who shared the dock with us.

There’s lots to do in Tobermory. The well-publicized and easily seen shipwreck – the remains of the Canadian schooner Sweepstakes – in adjacent Big Tub Harbor is a short dingy ride from the town docks. Sightseeing cruises to the islands in Fathom Five National Marine Park, where you can view shipwrecks aboard glass bottom boats, are popular. The 364-foot ferry Chi-Cheemaun shuttles tens of thousands of passengers and vehicles between Tobermory and Manitoulin Island.

Ghostly company

We left Tobermory on a sunny morning and headed generally east about 18 nautical miles along the coastline of the Bruce Peninsula National Park. With its towering cliffs and deep water, it was a special and unexpected treat.

Entering Wingfield Basin at Cabot Head, where we began this story, was a bit of a challenge as the well-marked channel is just 20 feet wide with rocks on either side. We took it slow and kept the range finders on the south end of the harbor both in view and in line. Once inside, we found 15 feet of water and excellent holding in the northwest corner near the abandoned steam tug Garguntua. Local lore has it that in the early 1950s, its owners decided to scuttle it. They paid to have it burned and sunk but were not clear about where that was supposed to happen. Saving the expense of a tow into Georgian Bay, it was burned in the harbor where it settled into the mud. You can still see its bones and hull just a few feet from shore.

Another beautiful port

The next morning, after breakfast and an unsatisfying attempt at identifying several ducks – greater scaup, we think – we raised anchor and headed mostly south to Isthmus Bay and Lion’s Head. Making the turn at Cabot Head, we were treated to great views of the red and white Cabot Head Light, perched 80 feet above the bay.

The peaceful port village of Lion’s Head is a keeper, earning its name from its limestone cliffs as viewed from the bay. The views of the promontory from the harbor are magnificent, and the town is charming, with shops and restaurants easily accessible from the marina. The sandy beach and park at the head of the harbor just add to natural beauty of the place. While there, we visited the Farmers Market, then picnicked on the lawn, entertained by live music in the park. The liquor store was a 30-minute trek, but we needed the exercise and enjoyed seeing the fields carpeted with yellow canola in full bloom!

Lion’s Head Marina was surprisingly large, with four main docks and room for more than 200 boats. The facilities were quite good and the staff was friendly and welcoming. The amiable harbormaster teased by asking that we not tell too many boaters about our experience in Lion’s Head for fear that more activity would spoil the place.

Stress reliever

There was little wind as we left Lion’s Head, and it was hazy. Very hazy. Heading 10 nautical miles east to Cape Croker put the sun in our eyes. Combined with the haze, seeing was difficult. Turning south after rounding the cape and into Colpoy’s Bay, things cleared up and, for the remaining 18 nautical miles, we were again able to marvel at the scenery.

Wiarton, at the head of Colpoy’s Bay, is more commercial than either Tobermory or Lion’s Head. Wiarton Marina has more of a boatyard feel, but with excellent facilities such as the large and comfortable boaters’ lounge with a wood-burning fireplace. The marina has a hoist (not so in Tobermory or Lion’s Head) and a friendly, competent service department. We had La Tasse “pulled” for a repair (a cracked seacock, more for convenience than necessity), and though it was stressful for us, the staff eased our concerns by demonstrating they knew what they were doing, cared about our boat, and wanted to get us back in the water as quickly as possible. One can’t ask for more when you’re 450 nautical miles from home.

Colpoy’s Bay is a boaters’ destination of its own. Three beautiful islands (White Cloud, Hay, and Griffith) are positioned at the northeast end of the bay. Each has a lovely anchorage regardless of the wind. A short distance to the north and west of Colpoy’s Bay is Melville Sound and Cape Croker. We anchored in MacGregor Harbour, a large, natural harbor at the east end of the sound, for just one night, but we could have spent a week there without anchoring twice in the same place.

The trip home

After a few days in Killarney, on the northern shore of Georgian Bay and the “boundary” between the North Channel and Georgian Bay, we took leave and headed for Little Current with stops in Gore Bay, Meldrum Bay, and the village of De Tour on Michigan’s Upper Peninsula (where we checked in with U.S. Customs). We made good time with the help of the iron jenny once again. The southerly breeze that day helped but did not propel. Our monthlong meander back to Manitowoc was uneventful but for the typical blustery days in Mackinaw City and the midsummer thunderstorms in Leland, Michigan. Fond memories of the Bruce Peninsula and the beautiful blue waters of the Georgian Bay traveled with us … and always will.