We are Gunkholers.

Gunkholing:  a type of cruising in shallow water, meandering from place to place, spending nights in coves.   Yes, we are gunkholers.  This is a lifestyle for those who aren’t afraid of not knowing where they are going to sleep tonight, can take some educated risks, perhaps a sleepless night or two, even an occasional light tap on the keel (for you non-sailors – this means hitting bottom), no wifi or data, all in search of the perfect anchorage: calm water, protection from winds, but most of all, solitude with a view. 

To gunkhole properly, you have to leave the marked channel (the safe route that Transport Canada marks with navigation buoys) and move into uncharted waters that may or may not have enough depth for your boat and may or may not  have submerged rocks, islands or tree stumps.  This is not for the feint-hearted, nor for anyone without good electronics or polarized sunglasses.  

After a couple days in the big city of Parry Sound (“Big City” is defined as more than one restaurant, a grocery store, Walmart and a Canadian Tire), in a marina with all of life’s conveniences (defined as hot showers, shore power, wifi and laundry facilities), we were ready for some gunkholing and set out in search of that perfect anchorage.  What made it really special for me was my son, Davis, was coming to spend a day with us; however, that added a challenge of finding a place where we could anchor and Davis could leave his car overnight and we’d be able to pick-up and drop-off. 

Point au Baril is a tiny hamlet between Parry Sound and Sudbury.  Once a busy metropolis (see definition of Big City above), it now consists of several small power boat marinas, a single hardware/grocery store and a chip truck.  However, for a mere $15, one can park a car at a marina and we can get in with our dinghy for easy pick-up and drop-off.   

Tucked far into Hopewell Bay off  Shawanaga Island, with 8 feet of water beneath our keel, well secured between a rock island and shore, we were a mere 1 hour dinghy-boat ride away from Pointe au Baril.  I had everything I needed: good protection from wind, calm water, postcard perfect landscape and the company of my 3 boys – Davis, Allen and Cat Stevens.  Add some good food, kayaking, music, a little wine and my heart was full.  Time went by in a flash, and before I knew it we were journeying back to Point au Baril to send my boy off to the REALLY big city (Toronto).

Next stop Nares Inlet.  I wish I knew exactly where it is, but that’s the thing with gunkholing – I really don’t know where we are most of the time.  We found a quiet cove off of a larger bay, with cottages and an occasional fishing boat.  This was a near perfect spot, secure and with beautiful scenery, but we were surrounded by private property and so leaving the boat to hike and explore is not really an option.  Most cottagers are friendly; however, it’s not really OK to hike on their property without permission.

Sandy Bay, about an hour past the Byng Inlet, was our next destination.  To get there, we navigated a minefield of rocks, some visible, but many submerged due to extremely high water levels in Georgian Bay.  Communicating with walkie-talkies and hand signals, Allen drives the boat and watches sonar, while I stand on the bow looking for underlying hazards.  Just one good hit on a rock could end our trip and do tens of thousands in damage to Meshuggana. 

We were told Sandy Bay is usually buzzing with boat and cottager traffic, but we found it completely secluded.  In fact, we did not see a single human for 3 straight days – not a fishing boat, not a kayak, not a cottage, not a hiker, and only sporadic data and cell service.  The only reminder that we were not the only humans on earth were the long-ago used fire pits on massive pink granite slopes on shore and the 100 wind turbines right across the bay.

The Henvey Inlet First Nation Reserve is comprised of 3 native reserves, Henvey, Sawanaga and Magnetawan reserves.  The wind farm is the first wind power project on First Nations land, the largest in Ontario and has the highest hub-height (distance from ground platform to blade rotor) in North America.  It’s strange, being in the middle of staggering natural beauty peppered with wind turbines. I’m not sure if I found them ugly or just interesting; however, they provide economic opportunities and jobs to First Nations people now and for generations to come.

We stayed in Sandy Bay for 3 nights, waiting out 25 knot winds and 4 foot waves in Georgian Bay.  While not really dangerous for a 42′ sailboat, travelling would have been incredibly uncomfortable, not only for us, but especially Cat Stevens.  And as gunkholers in a calm, safe anchorage and a vast amount of (public) land to hike and explore, there was no reason to leave. 

The stakes of gunkholing can be high, but so are the rewards of finding the perfect anchorage. Eventually we did leave our serene anchorage to journey back to the Byng Inlet and the village of Britt, to spend some time with family and finally some civilization…solitude is nice, but I can only take so much!