Collins Inlet

Magnus jumped into the water for the morning bath, then nearly ran across the top of the water back to the boat like a cartoon character as the subsurface temperature was under 19 degrees - 8 degrees less than our last swim. I nearly chickened out, but then psyched myself up by going down below in the v-berth at the front of the boat and sprinting through the cabin, scaling the steps, racing through the cockpit, then launching myself cowabunga-style into the icy waters. The heart-stopping pain only lasted for a few seconds, then I had my morning bath and felt most refreshed.

The anchorage was, of course, beautiful in the morning, so we had a leisurely breakfast and goofed around until 10 or so, then pulled anchor and sailed east through the Killarney channel and continued onto the west entrance of Collins Inlet - a 15 mile long river like passage that is only accessible during high water years, like this one. Stella was in command of the helm today and she navigated us safely with only a little help from Ana and I.

There were a surprising number of boats, both meeting us and passing up, as we crossed the channel. Some parts of it became very narrow and it felt just wrong being there with a sailboat, but the depths were good throughout. We stopped halfway through and anchored for lunch, then continued onto the end, and turned south into the larger bay which was clustered full of islands, rocks and shallow spots. The wind was blowing strong from the south-east, and we had a tough time finding a good anchorage, checking out at least four potential ones before finally deciding on the east side of Toad Island. I didn’t much like the anchorage, but it was the best option we could find and as we were lining up for anchoring I pulled the boat in too shallow and we felt a slight bump of the keel as it hit rock - Bella Blue’s first contact with the North Channel! I simply reversed out into deeper water and we stuck the anchor on the first try then HQ2 tied up alongside us.

As we progressed through happy hour drinks, the winds died and we were left with a reflective and glassy lake surface. We took a moment to recognize this would be our final evening in the North Channel, and Tony and I decided to light up Cuban Partagas cigars to acknowledge the milestone. One of the empty aluminum cigar tubes accidentally plopped into the water and began slowly floating away with the current. Stella looked at it, went down below in the cabin for a while, then came back up and could still spot in the distance. She told us she felt terrible that we polluted the lake so she jumped in the dinghy by herself and motored out to rescue the cigar tube. After retrieving it she was so happy with being able to solo the dinghy that she started it up again and went for a ride into the island, got off and then did some exploring. While she was gone, we hatched a plan. Magnus had given Tony and Angela a miniature rubber man named Brad, as a travel companion for HQ2. We decided it was time for Brad to set out on his own journey and make his own way in life, so we jammed him into the cigar tube and then Stella wrote a note explaining he had been thrown off his last ship on suspicions of mutiny, of which he was mostly innocent, but was COVID-free and looking for a new home. She also left our email address and asked that the new owner please contact us to let us know Brad was all right, although why we’d care after ejecting him from our boat and stuffing him in a cigar tube was a little hard to explain. Stella put the threaded top on the tube and Magnus lit a candle then dipped it in wax to waterproof it and then Brad and his waterproof vessel were ceremoniously hurled overboard. We wish you luck Brad. Bon voyage!

Kira Bay to Covered Portage

Today was a travel day so we pulled anchor at 5:45 am and set sail for Little Current, 47 miles to the east. The lake was nearly void of boats so I set the auto-pilot and cracked open the laptop to do some writing. It hasn’t been easy finding time to write during this trip - the days seem to start very early and are full of activity. You would think traveling by slow sailboat would provide many hours of quiet time for solitary pursuits, but there is always a lot to do. Planning out your course, setting up waypoints, trimming the sails, scanning the seascape for boats, monitoring your course, looking for floating water hazards, eating snacks, cleaning the boat, preparing meals, monitoring the VHF radio, fixing things that inevitably break, and the list goes on. But today, I made the time to write.

We arrived in Little Current, got pumped and dumped, then tied up at the free public dock to fill our water tanks, plug into shore power to charge phones, and allow us time for a quick grocery shop. While there, a couple walked by and asked Ana about the boat, and when she mentioned it was for sale they were interested so we told them all about Bella Blue and took them onboard for a tour. We don’t know if they are seriously interested, but it was nice to show the boat nonetheless. When a person makes an unannounced visit, leaving no time for the owners to “fluff” the boat, I think they get a much better indication of what the boat is really like to sail and live on, with all its flaws and imperfections, but also the many features. I will be sad to see her go if she sells, as this boat has taken us to so many incredible places, so many times, and provided several lifetimes worth of memories. Plus a lot of scars on my hands, feet and legs.

From here we pushed on an additional 20 miles to meet up with HQ2 in the Covered Portage anchorage, just west of Killarney, arriving around 7pm, making for a long sailing day. We were really happy to see them again and to be back with our trusty cruising partners. They were already anchored in a great spot so we tied up with them and cracked a beer for happy hour. This anchorage is stunning; you first reach the outer bay then enter through a narrow channel then it opens up into a small inner bay completely surrounded by tree-covered hills and steep rock cliffs, giving it a “covered” feel. It is probably the second most popular anchorage in the North Channel so there were at least 25 boats anchored in the inner and outer bays.

Ana, Stella and I went for a slow dinghy ride around the anchorage then as mosquito hour was really winding up, we retired into the boat for refuge, played a game of Kaiser, then collapsed into sweet sleep.

Kira Bay, All Day

The original plan was to leave this morning to rejoin HQ2, but after seeing the kids having such a spectacular time together, we just couldn’t break it up so were invited to stay for another day. Everybody was up by the time Ana and I dinghied into shore, and Kira was busy making bacon and wild blueberry pancakes for breakfast using those berries we picked a few days back in the Benjys.

Ana and I grabbed coffees and set up on the loungers by the water with books and spent a lovely hour relaxing and reading. The cabin library included a book on Canadian inventors and it was fascinating. Canadian inventors have been responsible for creating nearly every piece of communication technology that exists in the world today - from wireless voice transmission, to fiber optics, to radio, to pagers, to the internet, and even the personal computer. Other Canadian inventions include peanut butter, commercial jets, the snowmobile, sonar, lacrosse/hockey/basketball, the jockstrap to protect the aforementioned testicle-crushing sports, the electric wheelchair, Botox (you’re welcome, Hollywood), IMAX, Standard Time, insulin, the electron microscope, plexiglass, the electric oven and Easy-Off oven cleaner, the Robertson screw, and so many others. A man named Reginald Fessenden, whom I’ve never heard of, was the most prolific Canadian inventor and received hundreds of patents in radio and sonar technologies. But the common theme running through all these inventions was the lack of follow through. In the vast majority of cases, the commercialization of the inventions was bungled or the inventions themselves were stolen, ripped off, sold early for a ridiculously low figure, abandoned, or otherwise wasted. And most of the inventors had to move to the US to get the financial support they needed and bring their ideas to market because the Canadian government and investors would not support them. The ones that didn’t ended up penniless. It is a happy story, but also a very sad one.

The rest of the day was spent in an island way - walking, frog-spotting, powerboat rides, swimming, eating, drinking, and a volleyball rematch where the kids got their game together and whipped the adults properly. During a powerboat ride we visited their neighbours (several kilometres away as the lots are enormous) and saw the pile of beautiful cedar posts and 2x8x12s they had cut from their own cedar trees using a sawmill, which were being used to construct a new deck. I hadn’t even really noticed the towering cedar, pine and hardwood trees everywhere and the incredible value they represent on these lands.

We barely saw any of the kids the entire time we spent at the cottage. They were completely consumed with each other playing board games, volleyball, badminton, swimming, dinghying back and forth to the boat, snorkeling, playing with the dog, watching tv, and really having the time of their lives.

It was a glorious day and we finished it with a sundowner then slowly gathered our things, said goodbye to our hosts, and dinghied away for the last time. Upon boarding the boat I smashed my ankle into steering pedestal, cranked my head on the gangway, scraped my hip on the corner of the counter, then caught my finger in a hatch hinge. Being exposed to large, wide open, luxurious cottage spaces during a boat trip does have consequences.

Gore Bay to Kira Bay

We threw off the dock lines at 5:45am and were on our way westward to pay a visit to our friends Dave and Kira at their cottage, 23 miles away in a spot south of Barrie Island, near Helen Bay, but we’ve just been calling it “Kira Bay” to make things easy. Their kids Tula and Esme are the same ages as Magnus and Stella and they have gone to school together since kindergarten. The kids have been looking forward to this visit, which will give them a chance to spend some time off the boat and get away from us for some much needed space. Tensions have been running a bit higher than normal on the boat, a likely consequence of being jammed together in a very small space for 24 hours per day. And the very limited internet access doesn’t help.

The wind was blowing from the west at about 13 knots, right in our face, and the waves were sizeable so the ride was a bit rough and we had to motor into the waves. Once we turned the corner around Barrie Island we got on the happy side of the wind and put up the sails, which increased our speed and improved stability, albeit at a rather steep heel. The kids slept soundly right up until we were very close to our final destination, then I put Stella on the wheel so I could go down for a quick shower.

As we rounded Ned Island and finally got eyes on the likely cabin site, an unknown, wide-brim hatted figure appeared in a canoe paddling toward us. It was Dave! He pulled up beside Bella Blue in his birch strip canoe and we had a quick visit, then we anchored Bella Blue in front of their cabin and dinghied in and were met by Kira and the kids and had big COVID-free hugs. It was so great to see them all. When they first told us several years ago that they had a family cabin on Manitoulin Island, and showed us where it was, I told Ana that we were going to sail there and meet them one day. And here we were! They gave us a tour of the cabin and it was far, far more elaborate than I had pictured - fully solar powered, UV filtered water, amazing huge kitchen, and such a cool design with exposed beams, rugged steel fittings, steel roof and lots and lots of space, which is tough to come by living on a boat. On the lake they had a big sundowner dock with lounge chairs and umbrellas, a longer dock leading into the water, with a slide at the end, and a floating dock anchored just offshore.

We had a huge lunch then went for a walk to explore the other buildings on the property, and the small beach area that was no longer there due to the high water levels. Dave and I then drove several kilometres down a twisty gravel road to the main highway to pick up Tony and Angela, as they had decided to catch a ride from a local driver instead of coming the long distance by boat. With perfect timing, we arrived at the locked gate just as they were being dropped off and then we all hopped back in Dave’s vehicle and returned to the cabin. The Henriques already knew Dave and Kira through work and social events, plus we all played in a reggae band together for a while. Yes that’s right, and it was a band destined for great things, until we got screwed by our agent, then there was the substance abuse issues, the relentless touring schedule, the inflamed egos, the in-band fighting, et cetera, et cetera. I guess you could say we followed the standard rock/reggae band playbook and blew the whole thing up, then just went back to our solo careers; focused mainly in basements and around campfires.

Tony, Dave and I dinghied out to the bay to see a sunken ship while the ladies visited on shore. Actually, we left without Dave and he pointed us off in the completely wrong direction then paddled himself over to the right spot. Once we eventually caught on, we cruised over and helped him find the wreck then put on the snorkels and went for a look. It was an old steamer and we were able to see the boiler, many of the gears, lots of lumber and other bits and pieces that were hard to recognize. It was in less than 10 feet of water so very easy to see.

The rest of the afternoon spent together was lovely, except for when the kids challenged us to a volleyball game and the three of us men miraculously trounced them and felt real bad - especially since the stakes were dinner dish duty, so the unfortunate youngsters scrubbed pans while we drank beer. Kira put together a five star dinner with fried whitefish, fresh cut fries, seared ribeye steak, salads, and bottles of wine courtesy of the Henriques. If this is what living in the bush is like, I could get used to it. But it was no big surprise really as we already knew that Kira was a formidable cook.

Ana, Dave and I took Bella Blue out for a hard motor run to get the batteries charged up, while Kira drove Angel and Tony out to the road for their lift back to Gore Bay, then once back we settled in and played some music with the guitar and ukulele. Dave is an incredible musician and one of these guys who knows the chords and lyrics to hundreds of songs, which makes it easy for me to join in and just follow along. Trust me, if you are ever stuck around a campfire and run out of ideas for things to do, Dave is your man.

The kids decided they were all going to sleep on Bella Blue for the night, so packed in the dinghy and took off. A couple of hours later Ana got a call from Magnus saying there was a lightning storm in the distance freaking them out so they jumped back in the dinghy and got set up in the cabin instead. Ana and I switched places with them and spent a blissfully quiet and roomy evening on the boat, at anchor, with the beauty of Manitoulin Island all around us.

Spanish to Gore Bay

Spanish weather was a bit icky - chilly, windy, and the threat of rain hung in the air. Our original plan was to continue west towards Bear Drop Harbour and spent another night on the hook, but somebody on the crew (not going to say who) threatened mutiny if she didn’t get some clean underwear, because she likes to wear brand new clothes every day and god knows she didn’t learn that move from me. The laundry facility at the Spanish marina was closed, and the next closest one was 20 miles away in Gore Bay, so we adjusted the plan and set out southward.

The sailing was good and the winds were higher than expected, heeling the boat way over as we crossed the open waters on the way into Gore Bay. We were last here four years ago and just happened to arrive the evening before their annual Gore Bay Festival, which provided a crazy weekend of entertainment and events. There was going to be no such luck this year as all of the festivals had been cancelled (thanks COVID!) and the level of boater traffic was also way down so we arrived to a mostly empty marina and a whole lot of quiet.

Gore Bay is the base for a company called Canadian Yacht Charters and they charter out a large fleet of boats for cruising in the North Channel throughout the summer months. Ana and I walked over to check in at the marina and I noticed that the listing of charter boats posted on the wall included a 2016 Gemini Legacy catamaran, so after settling up we went next door to the charter company (which doubles as a well stocked marine store) to inquire on the boat. The lady I spoke with didn’t seem to have any clue about the boats, and despite selling paddle boards also didn’t seem to know whether or not they sold paddles. Her colleague wasn’t able to help either and the whole operation seemed confused and in disarray. We went for a walk on the docks to see if we could track down the boat and did find one catamaran, but it was an older PDQ type. As we were looking at it another staffer from the charter company ran out to talk to us and told us he didn’t know anything about a Gemini but the PDQ was for sale, and that we could go onboard, but had to stay out of the starboard cabin as he was currently residing there. As we were boarding, some other staffer started yelling at us from office, then yelled at the guy who let us on and the whole thing was rather unprofessional. We were eventually allowed to look at the boat, and it was dirty, poorly maintained, and had a bad layout. Many boats were in storage on land so we took a stroll through there and did find the Gemini and had a good look around the exterior of the boat. Knowing that pretty much every boat is for sale, we returned to the office and spoke with the yelling man, who first tried selling us the PDQ and seemed very reluctant to even discuss the Gemini, but finally relented and called the owner, but was told it was definitely not for sale.

HQ2 arrived and we helped them get docked, then Angela and Magnus and I walked over to the marina’s laundry/washroom facility where Ana was already doing laundry. As we approached the building Ana came out, waved us away, and then told us there was an angry man who was swearing and accusing her of cutting in line. When I looked over he started swearing at us again and I told him to take it easy then he jumped up and was ready for a round of fisticuffs over his laundry spot. I ran over and delivered a flying side-kick to his solar plexus then walloped him with a flurry of punches, elbows, knees, roundhouse kicks and clothesliners. Through all the blood I noticed he was wearing a stupid Toronto Maple Leafs jersey so I pulled it over his head then speed bagged him in the face for a minute or two then finished him off with a perfectly executed DDT, just like my hero Jake “the Snake” Roberts would do. My crew all cheered then presented me with the championship belt, which I put on proudly, but not before mercilessly beating my unconscious opponent with it for good measure.

In reality, Ana wisely defused the situation and we walked away leaving the profoundly disturbed and unhappy man to fume and swear as he waited for our gitch to finish in the spin cycle.

As we walked way Angela said, “Welcome to Gore Bay.”

Our explorations in downtown Gore Bay were equally unsatisfying as many places were closed (including their fantastic Legion) and Magnus got yelled at in a convenience store for no good reason. We picked up supplies and rolled our shopping carts right back to the docks, in fact right up to the stern of Bella Blue and unloaded everything, then returned the carts and got set up for happy hour. A mink appeared on a partially submerged piece of dock and we watched as he dove down into the water, came up with a crayfish in his mouth, then proceed to disembowel it and munch up all the good pieces while leaving the claws and head in a tidy pile on the dock. He did this two more times and looked to be living a very good life indeed.

After dinner we took a walk with Tony and Angela and the kids through the marina dry docks again to see the Gemini (and had another strange and off-putting chat with the charter company guy who liked to yell) then walked a bit beyond the marina and found a nice craft beer place (closed), restaurant (closed) and an art gallery (closed). But our boats are always open so we returned and spent the rest of the evening chatting, enjoying dock Scotch, and watching a muskrat slide back and forth through water over and over and over again.

The Benjamin Islands to Spanish

My first order of business for the day was to go for a paddle board ride, but I didn’t get far into it before the damn paddle snapped in half. Chinese junk! I really thought it would have survived longer than a year, but at least the board itself is still in good condition. I used the half paddle for the rest of the ride, then returned to the boat and cooked up a big sausage and egg breakfast for my gang. Once we were all ready, the next mission was to scale the massive rock hill to the west of the anchorage, so we jumped into the dinghies and motored the short distance over. Many of the boats that were anchored here had already left or were preparing to leave as the weather today was windy and overcast. Plus, it was Sunday so I imagine some poor suckers had to go back to work.

We climbed the hill and were rewarded with a magnificent view over the entire anchorage - the boats, the hard rock surfaces, the water lapping up against the shoreline, the thick forest. There may be some better freshwater anchorages in the world, but I certainly can’t think of any. Meandering through the forest with no particular destination was fun and we found dozens of patches of blueberry bushes full of berries, so Magnus offered up his bandana and we fashioned a satchel out of it large enough to collect a sufficient amount of blueberries for a future breakfast, maybe blueberry pancakes or blueberry oatmeal? Angela and Stella found some designer moss and fancy ferns so uprooted the whole lot in the hopes of setting up a botanical garden on HQ2.

After our walk we got both boats ready to go and left the anchorage through an impossibly narrow passageway to the west, then started making our way northward the 11 miles to the town of Spanish. Cruising around these parts is strangely scary as you have to navigate through channels that you normally wouldn’t sail anywhere close to with the expectation of hitting rocks, reefs or bottom. But here, many of the shorelines drop cliff-like into the water creating plenty of depth even though you may only be passing a couple of metres from the shoreline.

The passage takes us northwards, snaking around rocks and islands, passing shorelines thick with trees, deadfall, and wildlife, moving at a steady pace. At one point we spot something that seemed impossible - a small sailboat towing behind it a Sea Doo, then behind that was another Sea Doo, then behind that was a dinghy. Now this would be completely normal if it was a powerboat towing this flotilla of planet killing carbon spewing machines, but a sailboat? I can only imagine it must have been a sail boater with even more powerboat tendencies than us.

The channel approach to the Spanish marina (or perhaps I should say “marina in Spanish” to avoid confusion) was narrow, and my attempt to shortcut it nearly ended in disaster as I watched the depth sounder go from 15 feet to 10 feet to 5 feet, then I cranked the wheel just before we plowed the keel into muck and managed to pull it into deeper waters. There were no less than four dockhands that helped us get docked in the strong wind and current, and they knew exactly what they were doing.

Ana and I walked over to the marina office to get checked in and buy some ice. The super friendly staff gave us the rundown - showers, washrooms and laundry were closed due to COVID, the town centre of Spanish was a 25 minute walk but there might not be much open today, and they did indeed have ice, and sold me two bags then gave me a free tote bag to carry it in. We picked up Angela and Tony and walked into town to see if we could find a grocery store, The town of Spanish is built alongside the Trans-Canada highway and is not the prettiest village, but man are the people friendly here. The grocery store was closed, but we stopped into a surprisingly well stocked outdoors store for a few minutes right before closing time, then the only other places open were a convenience store and the Lucky Snack Bar, whose sign claimed it was “Known Worldwide”. Well, there were about 15 people standing around the place waiting for food and drinks so there must be some truth in that boast. We each got a single scoop cone, which turned out to be about four scoops impossibly balanced on the small cone, and enough for a meal. Ana wasn’t even able to finish hers but I just hate wasting food so consumed all 4000 calories worth of my walnut maple masterpiece.

Back to the marina we went, thinking not too much nor too little about the village of Spanish, and enjoying the long walk. The kids had barely noticed we’d left as they were drawn deeply into their devices, and there really wasn’t much to do there anyway. Tony and I settled into dock chairs and struck up a conversation with a fellow named Rick who owned a hulking, wooden hull 1968 Pacemaker, and he invited us aboard for a tour and a beer. The vessel was enormous inside, and had all the classy oak, brass, and finishings you would expect of that vintage boat. While we were doing that, Stella and Angela set up a little gardening operation on the dock and transplanted the moss and ferns they found the day before into lovely little planters, and displayed them proudly on the stern of HQ2.

Shepherd’s pie was on the menu and we all dined aboard Bella Blue. There were plans made for movie night, but everybody was too exhausted so it was off to bed.

McNeill Cove to the Benjamin Islands

Our bad ideas for today included dinghy drag racing and testing a twin outboard configuration on one of the dinghies. You might think it’s easy coming up with new risky and ill-advised ideas every day on these trips, but it is definitely not and takes some real deep thinking from otherwise shallow thinkers. Tony is an amazing source of bad ideas, and a real inspiration for me because sometimes my bad ideas get a little repetitive and it’s always good to inject some fresh stupidity into the mix.

Before anybody else was up, I sat in the cockpit and listened to the sounds of the morning emerging like a mayfly. The call of the loon. The clicking and chirping of the squirrels. The splash of a bass surfacing for a bug. The buzz of a thousand forest insects. And then, what’s this, a new sound? I listen carefully, trying to identify the source. It’s very hard to discern, but it seems close, very close. Strangely close. Wait a minute, I recognize it - the Portuguese man snore, coming from the window screen of HQ2, tied up securely beside us. So as not to awaken the sleeping beauty, I took the paddle board out for a long ride around the entire bay and out to the larger lake. It was such a beautiful morning, with glassy waters, the smell of forest, the warm water, and a clear sky. It’s easy to see how people fall in love with the North.

Magnus took the lead for team Bella Blue and Tony was leading the HQ2 crew. They lined up the dinghies at the start line, revving their powerful engines (2.5 HP for Magnus versus a beefy 3.5 HP for Tony), igniting the forest with the tortured screams of machine revving tension. The crowd was going into frenzy, with mad cheering and hollering and every single one of us, despite paying for our full seat, were only using the edge of it.

Stella sounded the air horn and the dinghies launched into flight. Tony took an early lead, masterfully maneuvering the dinghy into Magnus’ path and snuffing out his progress with a formidable wake. Tony flipped on his turbo afterburners and the chiseled vessel rocketed ahead, slicing through a family of ducks, and seared through the liquid finish line well ahead of Magnus, sending the poor lad into a prominent position in the annals of dinghy racing underachievers. Tony savoured the win by blowing kisses to the ladies, raising his hands in victory, and imprinting this legendary moment in his mind as a forever keepsake of this magical moment.

Magnus, furious with the insulting loss, challenged Tony to a rematch, drag racing three rings around the two anchored boats. Tony confidently accepted, and once again lined up against Magnus, but when the sound of the air horn erupted, Magnus got the jump on him, burning him out and nearly swamping him with a monstrous wake, while at the same time flipping him the middle finger, cementing the insult. Tony, forced to the outside, tried in vain to catch up, but was simply outmaneuvered by the wisened Magnus, and sucked his wake the entire match. Magnus cruised through the finish line with his hands in the air, embracing the victory, claiming the throne of ultimate dinghy champion.

After all that excitement it was time to pull anchor and head west 19 miles to the Benjamin Islands - the premier anchorage in all of the North Channel. Navigating through these areas is quite easy as they are well charted and there are marker buoys throughout. We passed by dozens of islands to our north - Eastern, High, Galt, Tupper, and Hog Islands, as well as Louisa Rocks and Belcher Rocks (excuse me). As we approached Croker Island we passed to the south, had a quick look at the anchorage there, then turned north-west and coasted into the north anchorage of South Benjamin, and were soon in the company of 25 other anchored boats, which is actually a slow Saturday in the Benjys. There was enough time for a swim to the island, some snorkeling, some paddle boarding, and bbq burgers for lunch before our HQ2 partners arrived and got tied up alongside us. The anchorage is really stunning, but to really appreciate it you can climb any of the surrounding rock mountains to get the bird’s eye view.

Once settled, we hopped in the dinghies and did a full circumnavigation of the island, stopping to take some pictures on a stunning rock formation, then for a short hike on the smooth rocky surface at the south of the island, and then to grab some firewood on the east side of the island, where we found a beautifully tranquil forest scene with thick moss, deadfall, and a series of small caves naturally cut out of the rock cliffs.

The day was not done yet, for after a spectacular HQ2 dinner of chicken and shrimp pasta, we gathered up our guitar, harmonicas, drinks and bug spray and dinghied into the rock shoreline and sparked up a campfire. We played the intros of a few songs, the choruses of a few others, and Magnus did some nice finger picking, but generally our campfire song skills are really not up to snuff, but hey man, it’s all good in the forested hood.