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.
God chose this evergreen to shine His spotlight on first today.
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.
The winds take their toll on tree growth
This was one of the tightest spots. Going so close to shore, your instincts say “No, no!”
Lots of wind generators in this area.
Three lighthouses help mark 3 channels for ship traffic
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.
Canoe channel. About as wide as the boat. Guess that’s why they didn’t name it Trawler Channel.
Exploring from the dinghy
The typical lighthouses throughout this region.
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.
Crip keeps her eye on our purchases while we shop inside. The cart came in handy for hauling Honey back to the dinghy. Sorry, no picture available.
Our start and finish points for the day.
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.
Official entrance to Georgia Bay (signage lacking)
The entrance to our anchorage at Echo Bay.
Stay right Stay right Stay right!
These places make you slow down take deep breaths. I almost messed up here.
These rocks are named the Valentines–dedicated to my other family
Sometimes, a man just has to go for it. Just a zig, then a zag. Nothing to it.
Boats settled in for the night.
I always wondered where Little Gibraltar was…
Our day’s journey
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.
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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.
My honey queen on her new throne
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.
First the freight train….
..then the passenger train
The bridge swings open and we are making waves.
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.
The green marker indicates “stay left”. As if I could go right.
The train is gone, but you can still catch the caboose!
The rocks like this help remind you how important staying in the channel is.
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.
The boats just entered
The last very deep lock, from the top
The 40 something foot gates closing
Directly over the giant doors.
Then it was our turn to go through and be lowered more than 40 feet.
We were the 1st boat in, so we got to be right against the gates–Whoa!
We’re done and the big lock is in our rear view.
The falls adjacent to the lock.
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.
Our friends “On Missions” riding the Big Chute
The Big Chute before we loaded
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.
The village, rebuilt in the 1950’s, after burning.
This caught my eye, considering my career. Glad I missed this job.
So I asked my wife, “What do you mean I am pigheaded?”
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.
Firing the cannons with even the whistle sound of the cannonball.
This USA boat came in quick, fired its cannons, and quickly sailed away.
One of the tall ships, after the battle.
Sunrise over the bay; taken from our slip at Bay Port Yachting Center.
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.
Apologies for the lack of posting recently. We’ve been in much more rural areas and our internet has been virtually nonexistent. I’ve written and saved a few thoughts. Here is a summary of the past few days’ highlights.
We turned the page to August waking up to a crispy morning at the Blue Hole anchorage. Today’s journey was 2 staged, with the first destination being Campbellford. We tied up just beyond Locks 11 & 12 and took a walk to the suspension bridge and the waterfall.
Homeowners take such pride in their properties along the Trent Severn.
Campbellford Ontario
How this double lock works.
From inside the lock, before filling.
Up close view of the wall of a lock. A true biology project.
The doors always leak some. Water is abour 14′ above us beyond the gate.
On top of the suspension bridge
The warning that seniors are in the area.
Photo of water under bridge. The blob on the left is my reflection like 50′ above.
Ranney Falls, upstream of the suspension bridge
The waterway below the bridge.
Soon, we were back on the boats and headed North (or West or south–the Trent-Severn winds like switchbacks up a mountainside). The staff of the Trent- Severn Waterway Park System is outstanding. They have great people skills. At each lock, they consistently take the time to engage boaters, offering local knowledge in assisting folks like us, who are enjoying the trip of a lifetime. We pushed on to Hastings, another little town along the way. We squeezed through the lock just as they were closing down for the day. But the cordiality of the staff and the job they do, never wavered, as their only interest, from our perspective, was getting us through to our next stop. The lockmaster brought out a handmade boat paddle, and asked us to sign and date it. It was a paddle signed by every Looper who had been through the lock system in 2019. He said he will be presenting it to Kim Russo, who is the executive director of the AGLCA (American Great Loop Cruisers Association). She has lead the organization so well, providing educational and promotional opportunities across the country for rookie boaters like us. What a thoughtful idea to express their appreciation to her.
In the deep dark corners of her mind, she pondered…..
…….chocolate or vanilla?
8-2
We left the city wall in Hastings about 8:30 am. After a few miles (with no locks), we reached Rice Lake. It was nice cruising the open waters with no wake and few boaters. We made our Northern turn into the canal once again and began our locking day immediately. We went through Locks 13-21 today, with 21 being the most spectacular. Located in Peterborough, Ontario, it’s unique to all the others thus far in that it is a side by side lift lock. See the photographs, including “how it’s built” picture. This lock construction started in 1896 and opened in 1904. It’s the tallest of its kind in the world, measuring over 60′ elevation change.
These kids, who run the locks, posed with the Collins and me.
Our approach, from the boat, to the lift lock.
Our view from the top of the lift lock.
We tied to the wall for the night. Just ahead of my boat (front) is a 60′ drop.
Amanda was “in control” of the lock.
Looking up at one of the pans that lifts boats.
How it works….
The cylinder, below each pan, is 7′ in diameter.
After locking through, we called it a day. The lockmaster allowed us to tie up at the wall above the lock for the night, and later told us we were welcome to stay as long as we wanted. We have decided these Canadians just like to listen to us talk, so they are extra cordial to us.
When morning gilds the skies, my heart awakening cries, “May Jesus Christ be praised.”
They don’t grow black squirrels in Georgia, or anywhere I’ve ever been.
8-3
Saturday morning, we, and our friends, the Collins, strolled into Peterborough, hit the farmers’ market, the bakeries, a restaurant, and the boat store. Amanda and I were on a first name basis with most every vendor before the morning was over. Me, because if I speak to anyone, the next word from whomever is always, “where are you from?”. Amanda, because she bought something from most every vendor. They loved her! To reinforce my observation that people up here are so friendly, I offer the following story: Walking from the boat, we had stopped at a corner looking at our map, trying to find the farmers’ market, when a voice from the front porch of a house yelled, “Are you lost?” As it was very obvious, we struck up a conversation about how to get to the market, talked about SEC football, our kids, and “Where are y’all from?” Inevitably, we tell our story of boating, which intrigues everyone, and they just want to know more and more. Before we left, the guy said, “When you’re finished at the market, call me and I’ll come pick you up and take you back to your boat.” We did, and he did. He not only picked us up, he also carried us to a bakery where Amanda had earlier put aside “a few more things” to pick up on our way back. After giving him a brief tour of the boat, we agreed to try to catch up again before we leave. Have I mentioned before how friendly people are?
Nicole won our hearts as the sweetest of all the lock staff.
Sunrise over our “home”
8-4
Sunday morning, we left our lockmaster friends at the lift dock and continued our journey North and Westward. We passed through a total of 10 locks, Numbers 22-31. The day was long. We traveled about 7 hours but the trip was almost 9, because 2 hours were spent getting in and out of locks. This is the time the first mate really earns her money. She has to prepare the fenders on the proper side, as each lock wants a different side from the previous, so it seems. Inevitably, boat traffic in the locks will require a last minute switch to the opposite side where you are rigged. There are always spectators at the locks, so when the switch is necessary, it means mama has to jump quickly and the captain has to rethink the landing against the wall inside. Sometimes, boats the size of ours are sardined side by side and, with fenders on, the boats are touching one another, almost rafted up, as we say. And if you are at the back of the lock, you have to squeeze the stern in, as well, to allow the door closings. None of the work is significantly demanding, but it is stressful. Amanda and I have wireless headsets, also known as, marriage savers. These permit communications on the approach and exit of the lock, because we cannot see each other. She grabs the cable or rope on the wall, to control the stern, then I jump from pilot house and loop the cable or rope to control the bow. This moment, my friends, has been the biggest test of our marriage since we embarked. You would have to be here to appreciate this test. Minor details such as forgetting to turn on the headset, or just not putting it on, often produces a new level of marriage encounter, that entertains those on the wall watching, and accidentally, listening.
Looking closely, you can see the cables spaced along the wall, designed for boaters to loop their lines through, securing the boat during the filling or emptying of the lock.
Adirondack chairs are “in” up here.
One of the prettier places along the Trent Severn
This pick up is mounted on pontoons. Didn’t see it in time to know if it is driveable.
A filling station on the canal.
The major change in the landscape has been wonderful. We are seeing all kinds of houses, from right out of Architectural Digest to manufactured housing bungalows. The feeling here is if you want to live on the water, regardless of income or taste, it can be done. Some take much pride in their property; others, well, not so much so.
The end of this day brought us to an anchorage called Gannon Narrows.
8-5
Seven more hours of fun and locks.
We made a stop in Bobcaygeon, a cute little town, with the cutest little shops. Our cute little girls were very good and kept the credit cards stowed. We did find a cute little hardware store, as well.
We went through 5 more locks and tied up on “the wall” downhill of Lock 36. We are nearest Kirkfield, Ontario. This lock is the same type as Lock 21, the lift lock, but it is only 42 feet high. Today was a civic holiday for Canadians, so we had a little more traffic on the water than normal, but we managed to miss all the boats. House boats seem to be the worst, as most of them are rentals and are not accustomed to the navigational rules of the road . Today’s milestone was reaching the halfway point on the Trent Severn waterway. That means more than just miles. Lock 36 is the first lock on this leg of the journey where we have begun our downward trek. The rest of locks, though fewer, will be lowering us until we reach the Georgian Bay. Based on my vast knowledge of the sciences, I think that will be MSL (Mean Sea Level). I know my school teacher readers will correct me if I am wrong.
This sign marks the entrance to what they call the ditch. Very narrow and very shallow, it is almost impossible for 2 boats the size of ours to pass. So, you have to announce your entrance on VHF and hope someone is listening and will respond. We did meet a couple boats along the 2 plus mile ride, but were able to squeeze by, since they were a good bit smaller.
Tight and shallow. All rock bottom and sides, make for a stressful ride.
By the way, this blog does provide a place for comment. If you have a thought or a question about
someplace we have been or are going, I would love to hear from you.
8-6
We left the Kirkfield lock later than normal this morning. Just a few miles down the ditch, 2 swing bridges had to be opened for our passage. The bridge operators get to work at 9 am.
The waterway here is almost all rock. Until now, “finding the bottom” has brought no consequences other than a little inconvenience. But finding the bottom of a rock bed can have a significant impact, pun intended. To add to the stress, grasses grow prolifically in the fresh waters. The grass confuses a depth finder, so even when the water depth is safe, alarms often sound announcing the imminent grounding…that doesn’t happen. It can be quite stressful and frustrating at the same time.
We finished the canal this morning around noon and tied temporarily to the wall to assess the weather forecast. We were about to enter Lake Simcoe, a huge body of water that gets pretty dicey in strong winds. With rain already on us, we checked the wind and sea forecast for the next 3 hours. Winds 10-15 and seas at 1 foot told us we were good to go in the 18 mile crossing. We arrived, without incident or excitement, at Orillia Port Marina about 3 pm.
This bridge is known as the hole in the wall, entering into Lake Mitchell.
With several days anchoring out or tying to the wall, it was good to get to safe harbor, power up the batteries, and refill our freshwater holding tank. Two loads of laundry, a quick boat wash, and eating leftovers brought this day to an early end for Amanda, and gave me a chance to get the blog caught up.
