Month: August 2019

Fifty-four degrees woke me this morning, instead of my “normal” alarm.  The coolest we’ve seen yet, as we approach the Northernmost point of our journey.  We traveled 32 miles by water, but only about 6-7 miles, as the crow flies, as our journey U-turned from one anchorage to the next.   We traveled from Thomas Bay to Baie (bay) Fine (pronounced fin), through Killarney, the gateway to the Northern Channel and anchored at the infamous Pool. Killarney was particularly colorful, with small homes, little shops, a lodge, a few marinas, and even a general store.

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The Pool, like many, is protected by high walls of granite.  The ride from Killarney to the Pool was as spectacular as the destination itself. A very popular spot of the locals during the summer, we expected many boats on this gorgeous Saturday.  Good fortune was with us and with just a handful of boats, we enjoyed plenty of room to spread out and swing on our anchor.

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After Dale and I anchored our boats, moved our boats, and re-anchored our boats, we were ready for an adventure.  Sandy with a headache and Amanda with a broken foot, GUY TIME finally happened.  This phenomenon is interesting.  I have learned that guy time always comes just in time for guys.  However, for the wives, it’s usually 2 days past due. Whatever, Dale and I were excited about the hike opportunity just a short dinghy-ride away.  I picked up Dale and off we went.  The adventure was to climb to the top of the mountain (maybe a hill, but I claim writer’s privilege) to Lake Topaz.  Our Canadian friends had told us this was a “must do” and, by all means, go swim in the lake.  “It will change your life!”, I was told. We climbed the rugged trail, virtually impassable by the average person and there, before our eyes, was a mediocre little lake with lots of weeds and lily pads. Not discouraged, and wanting my life changed, I dove in, swam a few minutes, and realized life really had not changed.  I threw my shirt and shoes back on and we headed back down the mountain, disappointed in the experience. 

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Along the way, we ran into 3 high school kids coming from a side trail.  One was on crutches with a cast on his foot.  I asked for his picture to show Amanda that a broken foot should never discourage a brisk hike. I told them we had swum in Topaz but they told me they had just come from there and had not seen me.  After brief directions from them, along with the concern that I may have been swimming in the local sewerage treatment plant, we took off to the real Lake Topaz.  No more disappointment!  This lake was gorgeous, crystal clear, and free of all lily pads. So, donning “most” clothing, I dove in again and my life was changed.  Well maybe not, but it was a thrilling experience.

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After getting back to the boat, Dale and Sandy brought dinner over, and we pigged out on ribs, green beans, red rice, and Dale’s famous homemade cornbread.  We threw a little Sweetwater Honey on the cornbread, and topped off the night with blueberry cobbler. With the perfect weather, the scenery, and the friends, I can honestly say we haven’t had this much fun since…oh, maybe yesterday?

As the day dawned, the fog slowly lifted from the water. A nice young couple from Cincinnati were on this sailboat. One doesn’t have to wait until he is old to chase his dream.

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The days are starting to sound the same, as I write.  Beautiful anchorage, nice folks, sunrises that take your breath away.  I write so I can retain the memory of each place, to relish the fresh air, and cool clear waters. We enjoy our friends, the Collins’, whose core values we share, who laugh with and at many of the same things we do, and who, between the 4 of us, make a pretty decent crew.

This day’s travel was from Strawberry Island to Thomas Bay (34 miles).  A protected anchorage that our friends Randy and Audrey said we should not miss.  We arrived early enough to get there before anyone else, so we had our choice of boat positions for anchoring.  Being the early bird puts the stress and responsibility on the late comers, who must be certain to anchor where their boat won’t swing into ours.  The route was a bit tricky for us because we had to veer off the marked channel for the first time. Slowly, noting the water depths to ensure we did not have a casual encounter with granite, we found our way. It was an uneventful arrival, my favorite kind. 

But the highlight of this day had to be the trek through Collins’ Inlet.  I hope you enjoy these half as much as I did (and do). I realize many of them look the same.

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Surrounded by high rock granite walls on both sides, left me with a dry mouth, as it was wide open for 4 miles.  I wish my photographic skills did justice to this beauty. Since we first started talking about the doing “The Loop”, seasoned travelers have said, “Wait till you get to the Georgian Bay.” We were not disappointed.

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Such interesting landscapes as we have traveled North, and now West, have pulled us into the scene.  Each area has its own flavor and attraction. 

Today was a 40-miler.  Longer than normal and not quite as much fun as the normal 25-30 mile days.  Today’s “stresser” was the tight waterways that are so rocky.  There are places where the view is so deceiving, it is difficult to tell if you are looking at rough water or a rock formation on your proposed route.  As everybody knows, when your boat fights with rocks, the boat always loses. 

My friend, Dale, was a basket case when we arrived at our anchorage.  I thought it was pretty fun, but I had no confrontations below the waterline.  The channels are well marked, but sometimes they can confuse the rookie navigator.  My SOP now, when confused, is to go to neutral, assess, and proceed with caution.  Since we’re usually running only 7 knots, there is usually time to evaluate most situations well in advance.  It is always good to have my navigator beside me at the helm, questioning situations that are precarious.  She follows on paper charts what I am reading on the chart plotter.  We usually argue no more than 3-4 times per day about the proper direction.

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Acknowledging that pictures start looking the same on the website, I continue to be amazed at the beauty, hoping to retain some of the memory of these many natural formations.

Relieved and fried from the rock-dodging day, we slipped into the anchorage on the South side of Strawberry Island, logging another 40 miles.  Dale and I both did bow and stern anchors as the forecast called for a little wind, but also a few other boats were near, so we took precautions.  I have learned why boaters go to bed so early. Days like today are fun, but do pull on your mental faculties. Lights out 9:00 pm.

We pulled out of Echo Bay and stretched our day to catch our friends, Dale and Sandy.  Obviously desperate for friendship, they had decided to just hang out on the hook until we knew for sure whether we would make it back after Amanda’s injury. 

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We caught them at Stairs Island.  After a brief reunion, we jumped in our dinghies and drove to the combo hardware and grocery store for a few supplies. 

After getting lost only once on the return trip, we put our heads together, plotted our route for tomorrow. Assuming I was done for the night, a little wind came up and pulled my stern loose from the shore because of my poor tying job.  So I had to get another anchor, and with my partner, Dale, in his dinghy, the Honey Queen was reset, ensuring a safe night in the harbor.  There is no substitute for a buddy boat (not to mention the buddy himself). The silver lining to this inconvenient experience was the sky. After all was settled, I went back outside to check lines, lights, position of boat, loose ends, etc. that may interrupt my sleep.  The sky was exploding with stars. In this secluded place, without a cloud above, I saw the Milky Way, for the first time in my life, from horizon to horizon. How does one look at this massive sky and not acknowledge the Creator’s Master Design?  I was reminded of a song I learned in church choir during high school, that I can still sing every verse ….

In the stars His handiwork I see. On the wind He speaks with majesty.          Still He came to set His people free; what is that to me? Till by faith I met Him face to face, and I felt the wonder of His grace. Then I knew that He was more than just a God Who didn’t care, that lived a way out there…

The privilege of this experience humbles me. The gift of the trip, nature, and the relationships gained.  All change perspective.

Pulling double duty now, with a peg-legged first mate, I got the boat ready, paid the marina, and we were on our way.  A plug for Bay Port Marina here:  we were gone for 7 days tending to Amanda’s foot.  They charged us for 4 days and treated us like family.  One of their staff, Robert, texted me a few days later, just checking on her, since he did not see us when we left. Their service, attitude, and first class treatment of the clientele at a first class marina will ensure their continued success into the next generation.  Go to Bay Port Marina when you happen to be in Midland, Ontario.

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We made it to a beautiful anchorage known as Echo Bay, 36-mile trip.  One of thousands of little coves in the Georgia Bay, known also as the 30,000 Islands. We met a nice couple who own a little red tugboat called the Heart Tug.  They travel and know these waterways.  Randy and his wife, Audrey, came aboard and showed us so many “don’t miss” places for our journey through the Bay and the Northern Channel.  They were kind, genteel, encouraging, and just a positive breath of fresh air. Randy also inspired me to dive into the cool waters for a swim.  Wow!  We had a nice rain storm tonight, washing off my filthy boat, still reeling from all the dirty locks we went through.

I suppose we can call this a boat day.  We rose early in Savannah GA., went to Amanda’s doctor appointment, and got an air cast, X ray, and CT scan to verify no surgery was necessary.  Our friend, Stephanie, picked us up at the doctor’s office and scurried us to the airport to catch our direct flight back to Toronto.  Hobbling along, Amanda was wheeled through the airports with the greatest of ease.  We learned that when you are disabled, you get to go through the lines first.  We cleared customs and got the royal treatment from the airport and airline employees.  We do agree that having 2 good legs beats all the royal treatment. 

We landed in Toronto, caught the 2 ½ hour shuttle back to the boat, and then I went grocery shopping at 9 pm and called it a long day.

We have the prognosis on Amanda’s foot. No surgery. Because of swelling, however, they would not apply the walking boot at her appointment Tuesday morning. Ice and elevation for a few days, return Monday morning for the walking boot, and if all goes as planned, we will be on a plane on Tuesday. More later.

We had decided to forego our free night and instead, move on Saturday morning to our anchorage. Dale and I communicated on our exit time. He needed to top off his fuel, we, a pump-out, and we would be on our way.

Amanda and I prepped the boat, which consists of checking oil and transmission levels, getting dishes back into the cabinets, grabbing a little breakfast, disconnecting from shore power, and setting the lines from secure positions to what we call “doubled back”. They are simply looped around the cleat back to the boat to hold it in place and permit a quick, easy release when I start moving the boat from the slip.

With shore power disconnected, I was rolling the 50′ long power cord (1″diameter) up while Amanda was to jump off the boat and grab our splitter. She swung her legs over the rail to step on the finger dock adjacent to the boat when I heard a splash. Only 6 feet from her, I turned and she was out of sight. I stepped to the side of the boat, looked down into the water just as Amanda’s head popped up above the surface. She had fallen into the water between the boat and the finger pier. With the assistance of the guy in the next slip, we managed to pull her out of the water. Thankfully, she didn’t hit her head before going under. Once we got her dry and warm, and the adrenaline subsided, her foot started hurting. We decided to get it checked out at the hospital just to make sure she was okay. Five hours and an X-ray later, she had a cast on her right foot. Two broken bones. The orthopedic doctor said surgery may be necessary.

We spent another night at the marina, obviously, as we got our wits about us, trying to determine our next step. We made the decision to go back to Savannah so we can deal with our doctors and utilize our medical insurance, which is not recognized in Canada. Sunday morning, we bid goodbye to our dear friends, the Collins. With wet eyes on all 4 of us, we waved as they drove away, while we sat in our slip. This unforeseen blessing of having a buddy boat has been a huge part of the trip. Dale and I have become like brothers (me talking–he may say something different). We bounce ideas off one another, help each other out on any task, watch out for one another as we travel, and on and on. The saddest part of this experience is we had to say goodbye this morning. Our hope is we will be able to catch them, if the Lord wills.

We will fly home Monday, August 12, see our doctors, determine if surgery is really necessary, and plan from there. Our options are: 1/surgery or no surgery, with the right kind of cast, we may be back in a matter of days, and continue the adventure, with a peg leg as a mate; 2/ call it a season, winterize the boat, and come back here in the Spring, and continue on. We hope to see a doctor Tuesday morning. That visit and prognosis will dictate the next leg of our venture.

As disappointed as we are, we are so grateful this accident was so minor. This simple slip could have been tragic. More later. Hey, this is the definition of an adventure, right?

Leaving late morning from Orillia, we wound the Trent Severn Waterways enjoying the everchanging landscape.

Our first obstacle of the day was a railroad swing bridge. Typically, you call the bridge keeper on Channel 14 and the bridge magically opens. Occasionally, you sound 1 long blast on the boat horn (my favorite because it sounds like a train), and then the bridge opens. But this morning, we called, then honked, and then waited. We were getting ready to pull over and tie to the concrete wall, when we heard the sound of a train, which was our clear signal that we are NOT the priority here. After the long train completed its crossing, the bridge-keeper came and told us a another train was coming, and we would have to wait for it to pass. And then he hoped he would be able to squeeze us through before the next train. If not, we would be able to tie to the wall and wait until 4:00 pm (currently 12:50). The passenger train passed by and he came out and told us we were in luck. By this time, there were 4 of us treading water in front of the bridge, hoping for the passage. We soon passed and continued the day.

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These pictures provide a panorama of scenes along the way. The rock foundations you hope to avoid with the boat, beauty of people’s residences along the way, the funny boats all make this experience a pleasant one. One we will treasure long after this adventure is over.

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With only 3 locks remaining ahead of us, we came to Lock 43, the tallest of the single stage lifts on the Trent Severn Waterway. We tied up to watch for awhile because there was so much traffic going through the lock. This is what is looked like from the top of the lock.

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Then it was our turn to go through and be lowered more than 40 feet.

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We made it to the wall at the Big Chute, Lock 44. The park system of Canada allows you to tie up for a nominal fee and be in line for the next morning haul, when it opens. This is the lock where the boat is actually picked up out of the water and carried over the railroad and dropped (gently) into waterway on the other side.

We jumped through the Big Chute and made our way toward Midland, Ontario.

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New friends who were tied up at the Big Chute wall, as well, had already contacted the marina where we had intended to stay, letting us know there was no room in the inn, but they had found the Bay Port Marina had plenty of room. We made the call, got reservations, and enjoyed a sense of well being, knowing we had a home waiting Thursday night.

Another fabulous experience in the public relations business, the staff at Bay Port Yacht Center treated us better than family and that whatever we needed, they would accommodate. From the courtesy car and driver, to the cleanest bathrooms and plenty of them, to golf carts scattered throughout the marina to save the long walks from slip to office; all small touches made this experience such a positive one. Their rates were reasonable and they offered the free night, if you paid for two. Our plan was to stay just 2 nights, but unforeseen circumstances would change that.

Friday, we toured a Catholic Compound (official name I forget), the site of the first North American martyrs. The “black robes” as they were called, had tried to convert the Indians to Christianity. Their unsuccessful efforts resulted in their deaths, several years later. The compound was interesting, seeing the construction of the buildings, the trades of carpentry and blacksmithing, the grinding mill, the garden, and even the pigpen.

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The weekend in Midland was their annual celebration of the Battle of Georgian Bay. Tall ships and reenactment of the battle, on the street and in the bay, contributed to an exciting Friday night, in town and on the waterfront. I beamed with pride (like I did at Ft. McHenry in Baltimore), as the USA flag-bearing ships came into the harbor, firing their cannons and as the US Army marched down Main Street, firing at the “redcoats”. It was all I could to not yell at the top of my lungs, “USA-USA-USA”. Remembering that I was surrounded by several thousand Canadians, I maintained my composure and savored every moment. Talking with the many Canadians, who are some of the friendliest folks on the earth, I told them that I hoped they were as proud to be Canadians as I was an American. They probably aren’t, but that’s okay. I’m grateful they let me spend money in their country. And at 13% sales tax, I think they’re glad I am doing so.

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A great couple days in Midland. We planned our route with our friends, the Collins, with intentions of anchoring out tomorrow night, as a place called The Frying Pan.