Rocks and plans and places to stay...

It was a planned six hours day run with four locks. But it turned into an nine hour fifteen  minute run with seven locks.

We started out heading to a wall that had really good reviews. So good that, when we got there, the place was packed. As in crazy busy packed. I try to avoid places that are crazy busy packed. Since we were enjoying a perfect boat traveling day we decided to keep traveling, figuring we would find a place to park somewhere along the way. By the time the day ended we had been on and/or across Clear Lake, Stoney Lake, Lovesick Lake, Deer Bay, Lower Buckhorn Lake, Pigeon Lake, and Sturgeon Lake. All of them connected by skinny bits of water that usually included a lock and dam. Each of the locks we passed could have had a place to park for the night. But at each one we found reasons to keep going. Though we were not sure how far we would have to go or exactly where we would end up, it was an amazing and breathtakingly beautiful trek that rivaled, maybe even surpassed, both the upper Hudson riven and the Thousand Island area of the St. Lawrence Seaway. We also passed about a half dozen planes mounted on floats tied up alongside private docks. How cool would that be to have one of those in your floating hangar? Though we saw a couple fly over I didn't get to see any taking off or landing. Still, it was fun just knowing I was in a place where float planes flourish.

Stoney lake deserves special mention. It is a fairy tale looking place whose name is more than appropriate. Studded with beautiful Islands, many with homes, it is also studded with rocks lurking just below the surface of the water, requiring special attention to one's path. One twisty passage is marked on the charts as “Hell's gate.” We stopped along the way to top off the fuel tanks. At the fuel dock was a sign, “Prop Repair and Replacement”. My guess is they do a pretty good business. The trick to avoiding needing their services? Go slow and stay in the channel. 

As the day went by we became a bit concerned about finding a place to moor up as we closed in on what looked to be the last viable bail out destination of the day. If all the wall and dock spaces were filled, there really were not any other good options for a place to spend the night. Sure enough, when we turned the final corner and got a good a look at the lock and the walls, all the overnight places were full. The only empty slots were the blue line for those locking through. We pulled up to and tied off on the blue line anyway.  Deb walked up to see if there were any empty places on the other side of the lock. There weren't. But she talked to the dockmaster who allowed that, as we are planning on locking through first thing in the morning and it was near closing time for the lock, we were welcome to spend the night on the blue line as long as we retied up at the far end. So we did and we are.

Tomorrow is forecast to be another near perfect travel day. After that things get a bit iffy for a couple of days. So, even though today was a long day of being at the helm and making decisions, we will likely be somewhere else come this time tomorrow. At least, that is the plan at the moment, the Plan From Which To Deviate.

Our friends' boat Unleashed

A Catholic church on an island. Can you imagine taking your skiff to mass???

The rocks hiding just below the surface

Everyone trying to rush through the very narrow channel

Etiquette, locks, and tracks...

For those that don't know (and until a few weeks ago that included your's truly) they paint a portion of the concrete wall outside of a lock blue in Canada. Since the lockmasters don't use VHF radio to communicate, that “blue line” is where one ties up if the intent is to go through the lock on the next opening. The first one to arrive goes to the head of the blue line and is the first into the lock. If there is no room on the blue line, you will likely not be going through during the next cycle. Take a spot on the wall and move to the blue line as soon as the earlier arriving boats go in the lock.

Since we had tied up yesterday not intending to take the lock until morning, we didn't tie up at the blue line. Neither had any of our traveling companions from the day. 

Come this morning, we were all standing around talking about who was going on and when, when a new boat turned in and headed for the blue line, pulling up at the end away from the lock. We walked over to help catch lines and the newcomer who asked if we were locking through. We said we where. Whereas he suggested, since we were the first arrival of those intending to go through first thing this morning, that we move from where we were to the head of the “blue line” and tie up in front of him. At first I thought that was kind of silly since we were all standing around together and could just decide who was going to go when. But he then mentioned that there were likely more boats headed to the lock. If they spotted an empty blue line they would assume none of us was leaving and fill it up. Worse, if they found out that we had intended to move, well, cutting in front is considered bad manners, even if it is by accident. (Which is why he didn't pull up to the front of the line.) Of course that isn't to say they wouldn't also take advantage of our lack of manners, leaving us waiting for a later cycle. 

So, having learned a bit about proper lock etiquette, we moved First Light to the head of the blue line in front of our new friend. Then we all stood around and discussed actually leaving, given that the wind was already blowing to the promised 20. While chatting about plans for the day, the dockmaster walked up to let us know there would be an hour's delay as there wasn't enough water on the other side of the lock for us to navigate. It would take a couple of cycles of the bathtub lock, which was next in line, to bring up the water level. Just the thought of how much water he had to be talking about was enough to make my head spin a little. While we waited, a third 50' boat pulled up to go through the lock.

Locks were the center of attention today. Lots and lots of locks. Including the “bathtub” lock”. That still struck me as a hair brained idea. It turned out to be a pretty intriguing experience. It was fast, a 90 second lift of 65 feet. It usually takes several minutes to move enough water to pick up (or lower) the boats less than half that far. Which helped explain how they could move enough water get us on our way in less than an hour's wait while they raised the water level between the two locks. (The locks are about a mile apart. That is a LOT of water.)

The bathtub lock is an impressive looking thing. We pulled in and tied to, which wasn't really necessary. They have handles you just hold on to. With no water rushing in, there are no currents pushing the boats around. And the wall we were “on” didn't move in relation to the boat. No grinding up a rough concrete surface. The lift was utterly calm, smooth, and completely painless.

We cleared all seven locks with the same two boats. After the first one in the morning, we had the dance down pat. The smaller speed boat helmed by our etiquette instructor had followed us into the first lock. But for the remainder of the day he went in first, pulling up as close as he could to the closed gate, and tied up to the starboard wall. First Light would coast up his port side and tie to the port wall a bit further back. Then the third boat in the party, a 50 footer, would pull in behind the first boat with about 15 feet of his port side bow riding next to First Light's starboard stern. That would get him in far enough for the gates to close. The water would flow in, the boats would go up, and gates would open. The small power boat would leave first and lead our little three-boat flotilla to the next lock. Since there were seven total today, it helped to have it all worked out before hand.

After the last lock, we moved barely 200 feet and took up one of the last spots on the lock wall in a little town called Young's Point. The 50 footer is tied up to the wall across from us. He took up the last spot. The little speed boat kept going, covering some more miles. He needs to be in Chicago in a couple of weeks so he is driving hard, doing close to 45 MPH wherever he can. There was no reason for him to go that fast today as all he would have been doing is speeding to the next lock and then waiting for us. Plus, there are a lot of places during this part of the trip where the speed limit is 10 KPH, about 5.3 knots. Once he gets to the Great Lakes he will be making tracks. 

Tomorrow we will be on our way once again, taking advantage of several days worth of forecasted near perfect weather. We will also be making tracks, just at a far more sedate pace.

Make the call...

We woke up this morning to the sound of engines. Our friends on Avalon, tied up just off our bow, were cranking up and pulling in lines. We looked at the weather and started to debate leaving or staying. The forecast and future RADAR suggested that, if we got going, we would beat the weather to our planned wall perch near Peterborough with a couple of hours to spare. It was a close call but we decided to get moving. A few other boats made the same choice so, all in all, it looked like about half a dozen or more headed out. First Light ended up center boat in a clutch of three puttering up the canal. Though there were a few narrow and shallow places along the way, it was a pretty low key route. It helps to be following another boat with the same draft. If she comes to a quick stop, stop.

There was only one lock today. When we got there, Avalon and two other boats were heading past the doors. I aimed First Light at the wall figuring we would be part of the next cycle when the dock master started to motion us in. That would make for four boats bow to stern and side to side. We had done something similar the the day before with three boats so, why not? The only difference was that First Light was the last boat in this time, filling the last “empty spot. Her captain (me) was responsible for not banging into the boats just a few feet off our starboard side and bow. Once in place, our anchor was just shy of hanging over the dink in front, and our sides were, maybe, three feet from the boat next to us and maybe a foot off the lock wall. But, apart from some very close quarters boat handling, there wasn't much to it.

It was a short run from the lock to the wall. But it was long enough for the winds to start picking up with dark clouds building to the west/southwest. There was some debate as to where on the wall mooring  was permitted. The safest bet looked like tying starboard side to on the east wall. So that's what we did. If it turned out I wasn't “allowed” to do that? Someone would have to write me a ticket as we weren't going anywhere by the looks of the sky. We tied to with lots of fenders and and five lines, checked in with the dockmaster (who had no problem with where we had parked) paid the tab, and it started to rain. Thunder rumbled in the near distance and it seemed like we had cut this one a bit too close.  But once again, the worst of the weather split north and south of where First Light lay. So it turned out to be a good call after all. But, as they say, hindsight is always 20/20.

It is supposed to be pretty windy tomorrow. Windy enough that we may wait a day before tangling with a thing called a “bathtub lock”. It seems they fill two giant tubs with water and boats. Then one tub goes up while the other goes down, each tub acting as a counter weight to the other. Which amazes me for two reason. One, that someone would actually come up with such a hair-brained scheme. And two, that someone else would decide that sounded like a really good idea, then go ahead and build such a thing. But it is the only way to get where we are going and it has done its task tens of thousands of times, at least. So goofball idea or not, we will be giving it a go. But giving it a go in 20 knot winds? We might give that challenge a pass.

NOTE: The wind doesn't mean anything to the boat once it is in the lock. It is getting in and out, particularly on the high side, that gets to be a challenge when the wind is blowing. Locks are narrow, there are things to bump into, and the boat isn't the best handling thing in a stiff wind. I am getting better at it, but I wouldn't be surprised if my pacer is sending a message to my heart Doctor every time I am handling the boat in tight quarters with a stiff breeze. 

This tour boat goes through the lock several times a day and takes its customers up through the

lift lock and back.

Most of the lock walls are in parks like this one with walking trails.

The Canadians really know how to take care of their natural resources.

Jammed up...

We are in a different place than we were. It might be two different places from where I am thinking we “were” was last. Sometimes it is as hard to keep track of the places as it is knowing the actual day of the week. The day's name doesn't really mean much when there are basically two kinds of days. Days we are moving. Days we are not moving. The only real difference is that on days we are not moving the day ends in the same place it started. Otherwise we climb out of the berth in one place and climb into the berth in another place. Sometimes that place is where we thought it was going to be when we got under way in the morning. Sometimes it isn't. But even with that, it can get a little fuzzy as to which of the days in even the recent past where which.

There is something fundamentally cool about that. What ever it was that happened in the last couple of days happened. Nothing can be done about what happened. If remembering it brings up a smile, a good lesson learned, a good dead done, or a new friend made? Then that is the best it can be. And if not? It's over. Move on.

It was actually a day with some small challenge. We have been hearing about “traffic jams” at the locks from the time we started out. But we were usually the only boat involved. Last night both of the “town walls” were full, making for nearly a dozen boats all moving north west. Some would stay, others would head out. Those who headed out would get cued up at the first lock just 15 minutes away. So we talked about getting going early, thinking 15 minutes before the dock opened would be early enough. When we got to the lock we were forth in line. The lock can hold three. It took a total of two hours to get out the other side. By the time we entered the lock other boats had cued up behind us. So each lock was as full of boats as the dock master was comfortable with. The last lock we cleared had one boat ahead of us and another rafted to our port side while we hugged the starboard wall. Throughout the day there was a lot of tight quarters boat jockeying going on, and a lot of waiting. But it was all okay as a boat “traffic jam” is an entirely different experience than a land based traffic jam. People get off of their boats to help tie up the next boat in line. We stand around and chat, trading stories and information. It is very much a “community” working together to get the boats through. Everyone was cool, no one was in a hurry.

A couple of the boats we traveled with today are moored to a wall in Hastings, which is still in Ontario, which is still in Canada. It is very much like a lot of the towns we have visited on this stage of the trip. Not very big, comes across as being pretty friendly, and we can find some of the stuff we are looking for. A good example is, at this stop, the rum store was literally “right here”. From the boat I can see it's back wall. Since there was only one glass of rum left on the boat that made for a smile.

We will have to wait for the morning to decide if it will be a day we move or a day we don't. Just ahead is a lake that is some 20 miles long and 3 wide. Not really “big water” but big enough that getting caught on it in a thunderstorm might not bring a smile. The morning's weather forecast and radar picture will decide.

This is the second tandem lock we went through, a lift of a total of 54 feet.

You can see our friends' boat Avalon up top. My son-in-law would not be impressed.