Day one of Phase Two...

Yesterday morning First Light was off the wall, through the lock, filled with fuel, and headed out the inlet by 0900. (To no one's surprise when it comes to an American marina, the pump-out station was broken. So the holding tank didn't get emptied. Good thing there is room for several more days.) Lake Ontario was in a good mood. The crossing was easier but I was surprised on how few boats we saw along the way. For a good bit of it there was a fellow Looper boat just ahead of us. But they were heading to Kingston while we were aiming for the St. Lawrence Seaway and, eventually, the Thousand Island area of America and Canada.

A little more than eight hours  after leaving the fuel dock the hook splashed on the third try of finding a place to spend the night. The first intended destination was Cape Vincent. Word from fellow Loopers who were ahead of us was that Cape Vincent had some kind of party going on with boats stuffed in every available boat parking place. After a quick check on the internet a contingency plan was made to take a spot at the Municipal Dock in Clayton, two hours further along the river if, in fact, there was no space in Cape Vincent. We swung by the town hoping a spot would open. None did and the place was truly packed.  So Clayton it was.

Ah, but a phone call to Clayton to secure a spot at their dock brought the news that, they too, were full up. Option three was to drop an anchor just off of the Clayton Marina. It isn't a bad spot but the weekend boaters rock the place pretty hard in their hurry to get back to their piers or out to their fishing spot. One hit set First Light to rocking and things to flying. I had a choice of grabbing my beer or Deb's water bottle. Her water bottle was closed. My beer was open. I saved the beer.

On the way to the final stop for today's travels it occurred to Deb and I that we have helmed our own boat from the waters of the Chesapeake to Biscayne Bays, from West End to Eleuthera in the Bahamas, around the Keys to Tampa in Florida and now along the canals to Lake Ontario to the St. Lawrence River. Mind you, it isn't much to boast about in a marine world that if full of true globe trotters. But it isn't bad for a couple whose “home ports” have been Pittsburgh PA, Wichita KS, Kingman AZ, and St. Louis MO. All places that are a fair distance from anything like big water.

While winding down from the day's travels, Daughter Youngest called to see how we were doing. She also let us know that someone took a shot at the assumed Republican candidate for President of the United States, wounding him in the process. That was news to us. We (I in particular) don't follow the news much anymore. And after our chat ended, I didn't look up any more details about the incident as the details are not important to me. Ours is a violent culture. The aforementioned candidate is deeply steeped in that culture, encouraging violence on a regular basis. He is far from the only political figure who does so, regardless of which side of the political divide they are on. We accept it as normal or “free speech.” But violence is now a regular part of both the rhetoric and the reality of American Politics as well as American Culture.

One of the reasons we live, at least part time, on the boat is to put a little distance between us and that culture. There are few places as peaceful as riding to anchor in a quiet place pretty far off the beaten path. Both big open water, and the venue of motoring down a river like the upper Hudson, are places where human violence isn't all that evident. We are not RV people. But I wouldn't be surprised if the same desire for quiet places deep in nature  and not filled with human kind bent on hurting each other isn't part of the draw for that lifestyle as well. Land or water, we are the nomads, people who really aren't that enamored of “American Normal.” And then there are those who simply move away from the crowds, settling in on chunk of land and minding their own business. A life that even some hardcore wanderers that I have known have taken up. And though I don't think it would work for me, I can certainly see the attraction.

For the time being, we will continue living somewhat apart from every day “American Normal”. We are very lucky to have that choice to the extent where we can wander around on a live-a-board boat. In a little while we will haul the anchor and wander around some more. It is something I never take for granted, that distance from the violence that I wish everyone could enjoy.