Crossings: Lakes and Thresholds

After weeks of watching forecasts and making tentative plans, we finally set out for our second Lake Michigan crossing aboard Red Sky.

We left Burnham Harbor mid-morning on Monday, after spending the night in Naperville. The forecast had taken a slight turn the morning of—a small craft advisory had been issued. Normally that would’ve grounded us, but winds were holding steady around 12–15 knots with gusts to 20, and the sea state was calm. Red Sky is borderline not a small craft, and we’ve sailed in similar conditions before, so after some deliberation, we decided to go for it—with a reefed mainsail for caution.

Reefing Lessons

We hoisted the main with the intention of double reefing, only to realize (after 30 minutes of head scratching) that our new sails only have a single reef point! Okay, lesson learned! Once sorted, we set out and were quickly rewarded: sailing was smooth, consistent, and fast. We were making 6 to 7 knots consistently, which is quite a clip for us! The Chicago skyline remained visible until around 5 PM—a stunning backdrop for a long, steady run.

Wind, Seasickness, and Shifting Thresholds

I dealt with some seasickness throughout the day (note to self – use a dang scopolamine patch). And the wind kept building. Slowly and surely. We eventually saw gusts up to 22 knots — the most we’ve ever sailed in. I found myself staring at the gauge, waiting for something dramatic to happen at each new threshold. But our performance held steady. We were fast. Controlled. Competent.

Funny how my thresholds shift with experience. What once felt extreme slowly becomes normal. Sailing 22 knots last year I would’ve been terrified. This year, I was alert, but not afraid. This is growth.

With every outing, we seem to expand what feels manageable — not by pushing recklessly, but by practicing steadily. Experience doesn’t always show up as blazing confidence. Sometimes it’s just noticing you’re breathing easier in conditions that once made your heart race. Sometimes it’s a quiet, internal nod: “We can do this. We know what to do.”

The Arrival

We arrived in New Buffalo just after 7:30 PM and were met by Kent’s sister welcoming us from the beach, a very wonderful sight. Kent brought us into the slip beautifully. From the bow, I managed to loop a line around one of the tall stanchions and help guide us in.

That night, we ate a picnic dinner with family under a gazebo and slept on the boat in the marina. It was calm, cozy, and well-earned.

The Return

The next morning, with coffee steaming from the moka pot, we cast off by 7:30 AM. Conditions were lighter, winds in the 7–10 knot range. We cruised at 6 knots for a while, but about two hours in, we were completely becalmed. (It’s peculiar to be in the middle of a huge body of water, and find no movement there.) To keep pace, we motor-sailed until we were about 6 miles offshore from Chicago.

That’s when things changed again. The wind returned, as did the waves and low clouds. We tracked three visible squalls over the city but managed to miss them all. We took on a sprinkle, but no more. With the wind on our nose, we would have had to tack to make it to our home port, so we dropped the sails and pointed directly for the marina. Kent brought us in nice and clean.

An hour later, we debriefed, packed up our stuff, and headed out for a celebratory dinner. Tired but proud.

Here’s a kicker: A few days later, I crossed Lake Michigan again! This time by ferry, from Muskegon to Milwaukee, after a road trip and concert with my sister and brother and his family. I couldn’t help but grin. Three crossings in one week!  😁

Thanks for reading! If you’re enjoying these stories from Red Sky, consider subscribing — you’ll get new posts delivered straight to your inbox. And if you’ve ever crossed your own threshold at sea or on land, I’d love to hear about it in the comments.