Log Book (Launch-July)

We left the launch party and motored a whopping 2 miles away.  We didn't want to sail right after the party.  We end up spending two more days just organizing things.  Without the the help of Brian and Julie, Carrie and Dan we probably would not have survived this two day period.  We were still condensing a whole house of things into a space the size of our Bathroom. 
June 16-17

Our trip has started. We have added a trackable beacon to our boat. You can follow this beacon by clicking here. This will allow you to find out were we are in real time. If you do not see updates, please do not be alarmed. The system sometimes goes down, our tracker batteries may be dead, or just about anything else. We have several ways of summoning help, and you watching our tracking system are not one of them. 

This first part of the trip is like reading a book we have already have read before, except speed reading. We are taking a route we have already have taken before, except we are doing it as fast as we can so that we can get Rachael, our sister, to her job in the Bronx as soon as possible. This means mostly motoring, a vice we do not like to be part of.

;" class="text-indent">Monday we spent the entire day motoring and bashing directly into the wind and rain.  This makes for a wet and cold trip. We anchored Ludington, right next to the Dow Chemical plant. Rachael and I sailed our dingy from our anchoring spot to a park on the shore with her gas can and started walking. I asked the first person we came to where the nearest gas station was and he just motioned and said, "Over there." Obviously a new stategy was needed. Next person I had Rachael walk ahead of me and ask where the nearest gas station was. We not only got directions, but a ride to the gas station and back to the dingy. Amazing what boobs will do for you. We also found out that Ludington had a sewer main break and that the entire towns poop was dumping into the bay. Between the sewer break and Dow Chemical the water was just great for a swim.

">We got out of there early this morning and actually got to shut the motor off for two hours today and sail.  This made us glow, and not just from our anchoring spot the night before. Tonight we are slipped at the Frankfort municipal marina. Showers and laundry and hardware stores were had. Tommorrow (June 18) we hope to have an early start and make it to Charlevoix.



June 18-19
We are enjoying our new home (Precipice) with some of her newest comforts, an extra long double berth and a diesel heater to keep us warm and dry things out if they get wet.  The top of the heater has already come to serve as my new microwave, a perfect spot to reheat left overs.

Wednesday night we arrived in Charlevoix to be greeted by Dan & Carrie Elzinga's parents, Dave and Donna, who live 12 minutes from the marina we docked at. Dan & Carrie are our house church leaders. Dave and Donna generously treated us to supper at The Villager and ice cream afterward. What a very pleasant surprise.  :)  Thank you very much Dave & Donna.

Today, Thursday, June 19 we had a very relaxing day in Charlevoix. We all bought a new book for ourselves at a book store and read a good part of the day. First at a nearby playground then at the beautiful and HUGE Charlevoix Public Library. The girls and I headed for the beach while Rolland purchased and installed a new solar panel to charge our battery system. The girls thoroughly enjoyed the sandy beach, playing with other children, and finding several small Petoskey stones. We do not have shy children. They enjoy meeting new people which pleases me a great deal. We ended the day with a movie at the theater.
The temperatures are cooler here, 60-70 degrees, but very pleasant.
Our three days traveling on the lake have been good. We are still settling into Precipice. We still need to get rid of things we simply can do without. Moving from a house to a 30 foot boat is a big change. It is nice though, to live with less.

We are all already adjusting quickly to our new life. I'm already bumping into things less as I get used to my smaller quarters. Soon docking, anchoring, sailing with the wind and weather changes will come second naturedly. We look forward to our adventures together as a family!

I simply remember last summer when we spent 6 weeks on Precipice as we explored the amazing North Channel in Lake Huron. I was not ready to go back to work when it was time to turn back. Now our summer of exploring and being in awe of God's amazing creation will be extended. We all learn so much and feel incredibly blessed to be able to pursue this dream.

In His Care,
Deb



June 20-23
We crossed under the Mighty Mac again, once again proving the bridge tall enough for our mast, except this year Bianca had no worries about making it. We stopped for fuel in Mackinaw City, and then stopped for the night in Harrisville - and we were the only ones in the entire Marina. We left early (Rick!) in the morning for a long jump to Port Sanilac. It was a nice calm day and we were able to go down to one layer of clothing. Today we got to go through the St. Clair river. We normally cruise at about 6 miles an hour, but we had up to 3 miles an hour following current. So we were going 9 MILES PER HOUR. This is the fastest Precipice has gone, like, ever. Our eyes were watering. We hung on tighter. Later we took this picture simulating how it felt:

June 24
Over the past two days we have gone under the two bridges that bring people from Michigan to Canada (Port Huron & Detroit). We have gone over them often to visit my sister and her family who live in Vermont. We could see the traffic slow as they waited to go though customs. I felt a certain freedom. We were on our own highway...with freighters. We felt very small. I stand in awe at the time and energy that has gone into making waterways safe for boats. All the bouys, lighthouses, lights, and etc. I appreciate them very much! We've had sunny skies and pleasant encounters with people along our way.

June 29
The last couple day have hopefully been the last of the go go go days. Rachael, Deb's sister, is on her way down the Erie Canal. We are now out of rush/motoring mode, and are turning Precipice into a sailing machine again. Instead of buddy boating, Rachael and I made a single 240 mile jump across lake Erie each taking a watch while the other slept.  Rachael is on her way down the Erie Canal as I type, having made a respectable 67 miles on her first day singlhanding the locks. I took a Greyhound bus ride overnight last night back to Precipice at Put-In-Bay getting a one hour nap on the noisy bus. I can usually sleep anywhere, but this bus was packed and restless. I have read other cruiser's accounts of taking public transportation in other countries and being so surprised at how gross out it is, but I think that if they used public transportation in this country they would find we aren't so hot either. The Cleveland Greyhound station had five toilets and all five toilets had so much shit all over them that I would not use them. They were white, but all five where generally brown. I should have taken a picture for you. The toilet on the bus was inoperative also.I could tell you about some really disgusting hotel shower stories from my traveling technical trainer days that would take on any India stories I have heard to date also.
I think for many people in this country their wealth insulates them from what is really going on right in front of their noses in the country they live in, no need to become a third world traveler.
Now that we are free of the schedule thing, our thinking is to find a place to anchor for a week, catch up on bills and letters and each other and then start to dream about where to take this vessel. We really haven't had the time yet.



 
June 30 - July 1

We made a nonstop SAILING journey from Put In Bay to Erie Pennsylvania.  It took us 36 hours of downwind sailing and it was glorious.  I got off the bus from New York after getting Rachael to the start of the Erie canal and went to the Oliver Perry museum and found out that a rebuilt Niagra (the ship that won the battle) was docked in Erie PA.  Logically, the only place to go would be there.  We left early the next morning and had a great sail, arriving late the next night.  We anchored in the bay and slept well.
 
July 2

We woke up to a slightly choppy bay, but Precipice rides very calmly at anchor.  20,000 lbs of boat does that for you, as Dave Westveer would say,"There is no replacement for displacement."  Soon a sailboat came bouncing by, incredulous that we were anchored in the big bay and gave us directions to Marina Bay, where we have been anchored for the last week.  We launched the Dingy (that hasn't been named yet) and rode our bikes ten miles to the post office to find the address to get our mail sent in, and then we got to the Erie Maritime museum just before closing to find out how to get on the Niagra.  They weren't sure that it was going to be available for tours, but I got a number with an extension to call in the morning.  I purchased a "Don't Give Up The Ship" flag which we have been flying since. We stopped at a grocery store on the way home and got a half gallon of Milk and a pound of hamburger, which was grilled to perfection, the envy of the bay. 
 
July 3

We woke up to pouring rain.  We are sailors, we love pouring rain.  We even love riding our bikes in the pouring rain.  Did I mention that the Museum is ten miles of pedaling from our boat?  My Dad would start using phrases like "building character" in conditions like this.  I didn't, but I was thinking it.  We stopped at a 1950's style diner for hot dogs while the rain petered out.  The Niagra was great, although I think that you had to be about 5'5" to be a sailor back in the day.  If I bent way over I could just move around down below.  We spent the day at the museum, the girls got to learn how to fire a cannon, and I got my fill of tall ship info.  On the way home we stop at a bike shop to get my rear rim trued since I broke a spoke.  They fix the spoke and true the rim but three tire revolutions and I know something is still wrong.  I point out to the kid who put the tire back on that it still really wobbles.  He says "I know, but we don't have a tire that fits it"  I find one that fits it for him,right off of his own rack and his boss tells him to put it on.  Waala, smooth ride. We then split up and I tried to beat the clock and make it to a gun shop and sell my handgun before we make the jump to the nanny state of Canada.  When we were sailing into Erie, we noticed that much of the town was built on a hill.  The gun shop was at the top of a twelve mile long hill.  I missed closing by five minutes, I will have to try again it today.   We all slept well.  We had logged over 50 miles of biking in two days. 

July 4 

Our quiet little anchorage becomes party central.  Power boaters show up, get drunk and start yelling "do it again" to each other all afternoon.  I contemplate snorkeling over and drilling holes in their hulls.  We decide that it is a stay on the boat day as people start anchoring waaay to close and if the wind shifts, Precipice is going to start making a mess of fiberglass.  We spend the day working hard in the hammock and swinging on the halyards.  A plot is hatched.  It is discovered that Jannelle's triple insulated foil lined lunch bag is the exact dimensions of a half gallon box of ice cream.  Bianca and I leave on a mission.  We stop at Autozone first and pick up an inverter that will power my laptop and on the way home stop and pick up a half gallon of Perry's blackberry ice cream.  45 minutes later four spoons attack.  The half gallon is gone in 15 minutes.  We recover from the sugar coma in time to watch the fireworks.  We discover the inverter is defective.

July 5

We get up early and bike back to the gun shop.  The whole family gets to experience the 12 mile long hill.  Some complaining is heard, but I still hold my tongue and avoid talking about "building character".  I bring my whole family in to Bob's Gun shop (home of lethal weapons training and indoor shooting range).  The fun begins.  I tell them my tale of sailing from Michigan to Pennsylvania, next stop Canada and we all know what that means, no guns.  They sympathize with me and ask what I want for it.  $400 hundred (I bought this handgun seven years and 30,000 rounds ago for $250) I say.  The guy behind the counter winces.  I point out that I have installed new night sights, hand grip, and quick release, and I have had the trigger machined and a new spring for a smoother even pull.  TGBTC (the guy behind the counter) says he has to talk to the boss.  They talk in a low mumble.  The boss says that he would rather pass, and they both point out that when you pull the slide all the way it sticks and ask me about the recoil spring.  I know all about the recoil spring.  I replaced it 30,000 rounds ago, and I am not buying another one just to sell the gun.  I tell them the gun has never jammed.  This is the truth, it never has.  TB (the boss) tells TGBTC that he would rather pass.  I talk directly to TB.  I tell him my story of woe and hardship of having to be separated from my gun to go to Canada (cue the violins) he says with a tear in his eye that he will give me 300 for it which I accept while TGBTC rolls his eyes and goes to the safe.  We walk out triumphant.  Moral of the story, if Deb wasn't with me - no deal.  We bike to the nearest Subway and indulge in the rare rare eating out frenzy - to celebrate the sale of the gun.  Then we watch "Speed Racer" at the cheap theatre for $5 for the four of us, during the movie I am extremely glad that I only paid $5 dollars - but the girls love the monkey.  The Wachowski brothers are genius.  We stop at Autozone to replace the defective inverter, and spend the rest of the day at Beach 6.  When we get back to the boat, the poweboaters have returned and are yelling "do it again" to each other in drunken voices, but the day is waning down and they have to go back to wherever powerboaters come from before night fall when the Coasties come out and get you.  Not a bad day.

July 6
We get up early and bike to a teeny tiny Baptist church.  We walked in on the adult Sunday school and one of the people in the study got up and welcomed us.  They were having the study in the front of the sanctuary.  This church was about as big a typical living room.  There were about 15 people in the adult sunday school.  I declined to join as Deb was in the bathroom.  I stood in the foyer (literally about 25 feet away) and listened in.  They had just gotten done talking about Job and the question was "Why do bad things happen to good people?"  What was so amazing about this group is that none of them agreed with each other, none of them were afraid to say what they thought, and they all treated each other with grace.  One lady (the pianist, always watch out for the pianist) thought that people who built their homes in hurricane zones, flood zones and areas plagued by fire got what they deserved.  She believed that all bad things that happened because of sin, and if you lived your life according to scripture then you would avoid those things, unless someone else's sin affected you.  Another lady agreed.  Another lady piped in, and stated that she used to live in a hurricane prone area and that hurricanes were just a fact of life and that she was born and raised there and that was home.  She said that you always had days of warning before a hurricane came and you could prepare.  She also noted that her family cannot figure out why anybody would live where snow and ice could fall unpredictably and create such unbelievable hazards.  She stated that living in a hurricane zone wasn't arrogance that needed to be punished, and that living life as a sinful person didn't mean that God was out there waiting to punish us.  A much older lady than the first two had more of a mixed view.  She could see that people's sins and personal arrogance had caused them much trouble, but through her life she had gotten much less trouble than she deserved.  Then the time was up.  I was amazed.  Nobody tried to have the last word, and their was no apparent tension from the differing views.  The sermon was well delivered with humility.  The pastor read II Samuel 9 where Michal helps David escape from Saul, then the pastor began to work through Psalm 59 verse by verse where David is running from Saul.  I was waiting for the trite Baptist Disney version of this Psalm, but the Pastor did not turn away from David's complaint and led us through the tension and resolution David went through in dealing with someone hunting him down.  I was refreshed. >All in all I would have to say I am dumbstruck about the service.  They weren't trying to create this "feeling" or have this happy happy joy joy time.  They actually seemed like a group of people who were trying to use scripture as a pattern for their lives and were giving each other a lot of space to figure out what that meant. We left feeling fed, but were starved  - so we spent some more of the gun money at Dominoes pizza.  Bread sticks (they call them something else), a large pizza, and a two liter of root beer were decimated (I used this word for you Lieutenant Dan) in minutes.  Then we spent the afternoon burning it all off at Beach 6, with the rest of the people in Erie, PA.  We got home a little late, but the powerboaters were already leaving.
Today is Job day.  We get up as late as possible so that we end up eating lunch on the boat.  We tote our laundry to the laundromat, and Jannelle and I go to the post office and get the mail.  Magazines!  Bills! No letters though.  I can see we are being missed.  We go to the beach ASAP and read magazines and cool off in the water.  It is really hot today, and we have biked 20 miles carrying heavy loads.  This is survival people. 

July 8.
We get up early and ride to the library.  The girls do school stuff.  I catch up on email, change my phone plan to less minutes, and put my Netflix subscription on hold, argue with my bank, talk to Rachel on the phone, read Rolling Stone magazine, get a snack, and then I start working on the book I have supposed to have been writing.  I get two more pages written and it is time to go home.  It storms like crazy while we are in the library, but we ride home in light sprinkles and don't get wet.  Another 20 mile day.  Jannelle has calculated that we have ridden 124 miles since we have gotten here, but my calculations say more like 145 miles.  Y'all know my math, either way we have been putting on the miles.  Deb whips up a meal out of nothing and we eat like starving wolves.  I think Bianca tells us she is hungry every 23 minutes.  I have a feeling we are burning more calories than usual.  Either that or Bianca is going to be six feet tall by next week.  Our anchorage is completely empty now, the powerboaters spent the day hung over at work. July 9 - 12

 We will probably spend the next couple of days here getting work done at the library, and getting Precipice ready to sail.  Our next jump will be to the Welland Canal, and then a 36 hour sail to the Thousand Islands.  Ca Na Da.  We will probably spend a week in the islands, and then start moving toward the ocean again. Or maybe not.  

July 12

We leave Erie Pennsylvania behind. This is what is looks like in our wake, just like any other industrial town along my least favorite great lake, Erie. We stumbled upon this town by chance, just because it was the berth of a replica of a tall ship Niagara. We spent a great week and a half here and would have gladly spent more, if the maritime provences weren't calling.  The people of the town were easy going and friendly and the town itself lent itself well to bicycling, which we did over 200 miles of while we were here.  My only bad conversation was with a government employee.  The conversation was over a two day period and went like this.

Government Employee who manages the marina near our anchorages with four other government employees, none of whom have any visible purpose as every time I see them they are leaning back in their chairs talking.  He will be called No Visible Purpose or NVP.

Day 1
NVP:  How can I help you? (Ok so his purpose is to say "How can I help you?"

Me: Yes, the powerboat "Tightest Ten", ">second boat in on D dock," is overfilled on Gasoline and is pumping a large amount out every morning when it heats up.  It smells bad, and it is leaving an oil sheen about 20 square feet around the boat.  
NVP: Ok, I will look into it right away.

Day 2
NVP: How can I help you?

Me: Yes, the powerboat "Tightest Ten", second boat in on D dock, is overfilled on Gasoline and is still pumping a large amount out every morning when it heats up.  It is leaving an oil sheen about 20 square feet around the boat.

NVP: Ok, I will look into it right away.

Me: How about you come outside and look into it with me right now

NVP: Uh, ok

Me (at boat): Can you smell it, see the sheen?

NVP: I don't see anything.

Me: Right here (pointing at oil sheen) and it smells awful.

NVP: I guess I will give the owner a call and let him know.

Me: Don't you have an oil absorbent?

NVP: I have an oil boom I think.

Me: Look at the side of his boat, right here where his tank vent is - it is obvious that it has been leaking for quite a while, or that he overfills it every time he uses it, his paint is peeling.

NVP: (Looks at me with a "Who the hell are you?" look but says nothing)

Me: (I wait for him to say something, but he doesn't because his purpose is to say "How can I help you?")

Me: Look, I just really don't like having gasoline on the water we are all supposed to swim in, I could just call the Coast Guard Oil spill response number, but rather than have this become a news release for the Coasties, I am trying to deal with this right here, and it looks like to me you are the one who is supposed to be handling things here, or someone is.  How about I call them tomorrow morning?

NVP: I will handle it right away.

Me: Good, I will check in tomorrow.

NVP: Are you the sailboat right next to "Tightest Ten"? (He says this in a kind of menacing tone, like he is going to tell the owner of the offending boat who is giving him trouble)

Me: No, I am the boat anchored in the harbor right there and I have to row through your oil sheen to get my family to shore.  Would you like my number?  Would you like me to talk to the owner?

NVP: No, I just wanted to know who you are.

Me: Well, good. Talk to you tomorrow.

This, my friends, is environmentalism. Not buying a Prius (a hollow gesture really) or talking to your friemds about plastic bags, but direct personal contact and follow up.  It is the only thing that changes things, and it is the only thing that ever has.  The next morning the oil sheen was gone.  Incedentally, the diesel engine on my boat has an oil pan under it and not one drop of oil makes it into the water.  My tank vent is on deck, and if I was brainless enough to overfill it, it would leak all over my deck and make a mess.

The rest of July 12 was spent crossing Lake Erie to the entrance of the Welland canal.  We arrived about midnight and anchored in the bay until morning so that we would not have to pay overtime charges for customs, just in case they want to inspect us.

The coolest day ever on our boat.

We go to the nearest gas dock, put in 30 litres of fuel, and call customs on the phone.  Customs for boats asks you the same thing they ask you when you cross by car, plus some nifty boat questions like your number and how big you are.  The difference is that you are talking to them by phone and they can't see you.  Somehow, they decide we are ok and give us a number which we have to display in our window.  Now we can go ashore.

 At about noon go down the canal and find a yellow phone.  The gas dock people told me about the yello phone.  


You insert your credit card in the box next to the phone (payez ici) and Canada takes 200 dolllars.  Jannelle: "Why do we have to pay 200 dollars when our boat floats all by itself and they don't have to do anything?"  You then pick up the yellow phone and say to the guy in the bridge (TGITB):

Me: Hi, this is Precipice and I have just paid 200 dollars to go through the Canal and well, uh, I would like to go through.
TGITB: Are you the little sailboat tied on the outside of the dock?
Me: Yes. (a little insecurely because my boat just got called little)
TGITB: I see you, ahh, call me back in about an hour and a half.
Me:(an hour and 25 minutes later)Hi, its Precipice again and uh, can I go through?
TGITB: I have good news and bad news.  The good news it that I have a vessel coming that you can lock up with, the bad news it that he won't be here for another hour.  Do you have a radio?
Me: Yes
TGITB: Good, turn it on 14 and when he comes, I will give you a call.  

My lock buddy didn't show up until 4.  

Anyway, we get behind our lock buddy, go under the bridge with him and into the controlling lock that only drops about 4 feet because of changes in levels of  Erie and when he gets out he takes off and starts going about 15 mph.  Our top speed at full throttle is about 7.5 mph.  Needless to say, we were left in the dust.  

And this was a good thing because from then on we had the locks all to ourselves.


First you tie up next to the wall and they put down a barricade that drops a two inch thick cable in case you go crazy and decide to ram the doors.

Then someone pulls the plug, and the water flows out, just like your bathtub.



Except this bathtub drops you 45 feet.  Kind of convenient, because my mast is 45 feet tall so we know when they are done.







Then a head pops over the edge and starts pulling up the rope that you were using to stay in place.



Then they open the door and let you out.  Lather, rinse, repeat seven more times and you have dropped 350 feet and cheated the Niagara falls.  We learn on the way down that the guy in the bridge is actually 7 miles away in the center of the canal system.  He watches you by video and controls the bridges by remote control.  Kind of like the Wizard of Oz, except friendly - unless he catches you with your sails up between the locks, which is apparently a big no no.


  

Towards the end we got to do the locks in the dark, which turned out to be kind of pretty for a 45 foot deep slimy hole.  









At the other end we tied up with a little 80 foot 30 million dollar yacht.  We had several of the lock operators tell us about it as we came down.  The next morning we talked to a pilot (every foreign vessel is required to pay a canal employee to tell them where to go in the canal).  The Pilot was guiding a vessel downbound and this yacht was trying to go upbound.  He was supposed to be waiting in wharf 1, but was sitting in the middle of the canal.  This is how the conversation was retold to us:

Pilot: Perserverence this is Canadian Empress, I am the big freighter that just left lock seven and is headed your way do you see me.
BEYO (Big Ego Yacht Overkill): I am trying to find warf 1
Pilot: You are sitting next to the Pleasure Craft Dock.  You have three choices: 1. Turn around and leave the channel. 2, go immediately to your left into the Pleasure docking area. 3, get run down by me because I cannot stop, nor is there anywhere for me to turn.
BEYO: I am going to the Pleasure dock to my left now.

Apparently after this BEYO decided that he to needed a pilot.

I talked to BEYO later and he told me that to go through the canal system with a pilot was going to cost him just over 25,000 dollars.  I felt a liiitle better about paying 200.  I felt even better about my 200 after I told him what it cost me.  

Going through the Welland Canal was just way way cool.  We tied up at the end and fell asleep immediately.  We were whipped.  We made it through in 8 hours.

July 14-15

  We now get to spend the next 48 hours crossing Lake Ontario.  We immediately like this lake.  After spending a couple weeks in lake Erie (and I got to cross it twice - once in Dances With Wind and once with Precipice) we realize that Lake Erie is just an angry lake.  Our first night out the wind dies down to absolutely nothing.  The water is glass.  My entire 9pm to 1pm watch we make about a half a mile.  Just before my watch is up and Deb takes over, the wind picks up.  I love being becalmed as long as the waves are calm.  I hate being becalmed just after a thunderstorm makes a mess of things, which is common.  You float with all the grace of a block of Styrofoam.  I will start the motor in that case, but when things are calm it is a treat to watch the night and sit quietly.  

This is good for me.

 The rest of the passage is a great even downwind run.  On the evening of the 15th, the wind pick up to about 25kts, and we really start making time, which isn't what we want because we are heading to the 1000 islands which can be a little tricky navigation wise.  We take down our mainsail so that we will arrive when there is daylight and we can see little navigational hazards called islands.  They are missed sometimes, just check out the Francisco Moran here.



July 16-17

We arrive at our first island, Main Duck Island, just in time for a 7 AM thunderstorm.  We anchor up in time and then later re-anchor in a better holding spot.  After the thunderstorm we go exploring and find the dominant species of the island is poison ivy.  The bay we are anchored in has about 30 feet of visibility and great swimming.  We snorkel, swim, rest, eat and repeat until we have no idea what day it is or the time.  






The next day we avoid poison ivy by walking around the edges of the island.





If you keep making that face, it is going to stay that way.  



July 18

We sail from Main Duck Island to Amherst Island.  Another great sail.  We pull into Stella Bay and a "Kid Boat" is spied.  The girls plan their escape before the anchor is even down.  They swim over to the other boat and find a great Canadian family.  The children don't speak much English, but this does not throw down a game of marco polo, or tag.  Deb and I, being a little more shy, dingy over after about an hour and spend the evening talking in their cockpit.

July 19



We get the bikes out and explore Amherst island.  It turns out to be mostly farmland, but very beautiful farmland.  After about 20 miles of biking we find our beach.  After swimming, we rush to the general store and get a half gallon of ice cream just before closing.  We down it as soon as we get on the boat.  After 25 miles of biking dirt roads you can do this kind of thing.  The folding bikes are well worth the space and money they take up.  They let us explore where we are, get supplies, and let us stretch our legs.

July 20 Sunday

We  woke up to rain.  A nice even shower, not the messy thunderstorm rains that we often get in the great lakes.  Breakfast was French Toast, mmmm.  We walked to St. Paul's Presbyterian Church, a nice one hundred year old  stone sanctuary.  I had called the church the night before at 10:45PM to find out when the service was expecting an answering machine and the pastor answered.  The church itself does not have a phone.  The walk was about a mile and a half in the rain, so the four of us walked along in our ponchos.  Several  people, including the pastor, passed us as we walked to church.  When we got there, they were surprised that we were walking to church and a little embarrassed passing us by.  This church looked like it could almost seat about 100 and it was nearly full.  I met the pastor before the service and confessed that it was I who called so late, and he apologized for passing us by.  He then got the scoop on our trip, which he announced from the pulpit and implored the congregation to give us a ride back.  Having the introduction  made already made it easy to break the ice after the service and I feel like that between the four of us, we met everyone.  

The sermon was on "Why do bad things happen to good people?" which was a nice coincidence  because that was the topic of the adult Sunday School at the Baptist church we went to two weeks earlier.  The sermon was bold.  He didn't do any dancing around.  He stated plainly that God is not in control of the sweep of history, man is.  Man is the cause of all wars, and our free will and what we chose to do with it is the case of  why bad thing happen to good people.  He also stated that God has chosen to limit himself in the natural world and he is not to blame for the things that insurance companies call  "acts of God".  These things are not acts of God, they are the result of natural forces.  When one of his parishioners children died of Leukemia, he overheard her being told that this was the will of God.  Afterwards he told her that it was definitely not the will of God her girl was dead.  She asked him if it wasn't the will of God than why was her girl dead?  He didn't have a good answer for that.  I know I don't entirely agree with his position. I know that God is involved with the sweep of history, and natural disasters, and disease, and all of it. This is what makes the question of why bad things happen to good people so vexing. It is good to hear a preacher not try to avoid this topic and tackle it dead on and answer honestly.

What was interesting about this sermon is that it did not function from scripture.  He wasn't preaching on a text or from the Bible.  Scriptures were read, but they had nothing to do with the message.  Not to say that the message wasn't scriptural, just not directly from a text.  This is how it was in the Lutheran Church when I was little.  I wish I had some source texts that he was working from.  This is problem with preaching, even at Mars Hill - they don't feel like they have to reveal who they are reading and learning from when they preach.  Footnotes would be nice.  

We felt welcomed in this church, and it seems that the island culture is healthy here.  Islands can be weird places to be sometimes, little closed communities that repel outsiders. None of that here.  

We got a ride home and spent the rest of the afternoon doing school and reading.  Another great sabbath.  

July 21 PLUS
We will spend the early part of the week in the area, provision  at the Costco in Kingston and then  scoot up the St. Lawrence.  Or  not.

July 21
We find ourselves really enjoying our time in Stella bay.  Today one of the people living on the island row over and declare our boat the best looking boat that has anchored in the bay for at least five years.  He presents us with a bottle of Maple Syrup.  We are really starting to like Canada.  He asks us if we need anything.  We tell him that we are running low on water and they invite us onshore.  We meet the rest of the crew.  Two brothers, Hugh and Ron and a sister rent cottages on the island for the summer.  They are articulate, friendly, and generous.  They tell me of a inn down the road that has broadband WiFi.  I mean, who are these people.  We decide to spend the next couple of days here.




We finally pull up anchor.  The girls beg me not to go, but we haven't shopped for groceries since June 14, almost six weeks earlier.  More importantly we don't have any baking powder left and this is the missing ingredient for pancakes that use our maple syrup. Ron and Hugh get out their sailboat and give us a proper farewell.  We were very glad to have met them.  The wind today is from the northeast, the direction we want to go, so we tack back and forth up the channel.  We were originally going to anchor in Kingston, ON but we had a free voucher for a marina given to us in Stella Bay that we decided to use.  So we snuck into Collins bay.  We tied up and walked to the No Frills grocery store and buy baking powder and eggs.  Then we walked to the Laundromat and did the laundry ritual.

It starts to pour while we are in the Laundromat and we walk back (about 2 miles) in the rain.  At the halfway point on the way back someone stops and offers us a ride.  We turn down the ride offer, but we can tell the person who offers us the ride is disappointed.  We decide that we are going to have to accept these offers of help we are getting because it is a great way to meet people, and the people who are offering the help like helping.  We live in a culture that doesn't offer help much, so little that we have no clue how to handle them.  This becomes important for the next day.

July 24

Today is shopping day.  Last night, as we were shaking off the water from the rain, an older gentleman who noticed our wood masts stopped and talked to us.  He asked us if we needed a ride for shopping or anything.  Using our newly acquired skills, we said yes that we needed to get to the grocery store.  He said he might be able to help, and he was.  0930 the next morning he was in the parking lot waiting to take Deb shopping.  They were gone until noon.  




Deb returned five hundred dollars poorer with five weeks of groceries.  Thank you, Norm.  
We left immediately after we were able to stow all the food.  It all fit.  



On our way out of Collins bay, we hear a scared/exhilarated French voice on the radio announce a water spout forming near Amherst Island, where we just were two days before.  Jannelle spots the spout, and we get the sails down and fire up the motor and go at full speed the other way.  (Top speed being about 7 miles an hour).  A water spout is a tornado over the water.  They aren’t as destructive I am told, but I really do not want to find out.  



We pass Kingston and motor up to an Island we now call grumpy Island.  The little bay is full, but there is a spot next to one of the sailboats.  We motor up slowly and ask an old couple if we can raft up next to them.  The old man tells us in a grumpy voice that there is not enough depth for us and that he himself barely made it in.  Deb relays this to me, and I decide that if he made it in, then we could.  We pull right next to him, dropping an anchor from our stern while we pull in and tie the bow to shore, so that we are right next to him without being tied to him.  As we are tying up the old man tells us he is surprised that there was enough depth for us and asks if we would like to tie to him now.  Using our new accepting help skills we say yes.  Now we find out why he is so grumpy - the old lady he lives with.  We hand him our rope, but she doesn't want the extra line on her side, so we pull the rope back and hand them the loop.  The rest of the night we are just about driven nuts by this lady.  Pick pick pick after the old man.  She spends the rest of the night cleaning her cockpit, and making weird comments to us.  It is obvious to us that they aren’t sailors, but they are the type to use their boat as a floating RV.  Move it somewhere and park it for the summer.  

This brings me to a rant.  If you are thinking that you are going to work at your job for 30 years AND THEN go out and do the thing you have been dreaming to do your entire life it wont work.  Your 30 years of work will likely steal any creativity that you have and your body will not be up to the task.  We know old sailors approaching their 80's, but they have been learning how to do what they do for their entire life.  If you hop on your new big boat for the first time at 65, well lets just say you probably wont adapt like you could have in your 30's.  In other words, DO WHAT YOU ARE DREAMING ABOUT RIGHT NOW.  Ok, rant over.  Note: This rant doesn't apply to everyone.  

July 24



We now are in the heart of the Thousand Islands.  We sail the whole day, most of it downwind.  We are surprised that very very few of the sailboats we see are sailing.  The area is very much like the North Channel of Northern Lake Ontario that we spent six weeks in last summer.   The islands here are very busy though.  We later learn that this week is the second week of the invasion of the "French navy" .  It seems that a good chunk of Quebec takes the last two weeks of July off, and many of them find there way up here.  
We pull up to Endimyon Island, recommended by Hugh of Stella Bay. 

 We are happy to find another kid boat.  Another delightful francophone family.  Their boat has a slide - bonus.  We bring them a gift of cookies, which Canadians call biscuits.  So far, our kids have had plenty of other kids to play with on this trip.  Having kids makes it easy for the adults to meet.

July 26

We continue sailing through the Thousand Islands.  This is really nice sailing conditions.  The sun is up, the wind is behind us, and we have a following current.  We just glide along between thousands of islands soaking it all in.  It can be challenging navigation at times, but this just tends to draw us together as we figure out what island is what on the chart.  We left at 0900, a little later than usual so we could say goodbye to the kid boat moored next to us.   A couple of hours later, they motored by us on their way to drop off the rental. 

Toward the end of the day, we leave the islands and the scenery starts changing for the worse.   The banks go from rock to grass and are lower.  Everything starts to look the same.  We are now entering the ugly part of the St. Lawrence from the Thousand Islands to downbound of Cornwall.  This is the part of Canada that everyone from Michigan sees when they take the shortcut through Canada to go to Vermont or out east through Cornwall.  It is too bad that this is all many of my fellow Michiganders know of Canada because there is great beauty right in our backyard, no need for a trip to the Rockies or California – and the people are great too.   Soon we are up to the American locks.  The St. Lawrence Seaway is the largest multinational government project ever undertaken.  It is a symbol of what two nations can do if they work together.  All of the locks except two are run by the Canadians.  We approached the US locks and I pulled out my credit card and walked up the ramp to pay just like I had done 16 other times and discovered the American locks still run like they did when they were installed in 1959.  In fact this is exactly what the guy on the lock phone tells me.  He tells me to go upstream about 30 miles where there is an ATM machine if I don’t have cash.  I inform him that I am a 20,000 pound sailboat with an 18 horsepower motor that might just be able to buck the current if it wasn’t for the 18 knot wind blowing against us.  He didn’t seem to get it.  I let him know that it was impossible for my vessel to go back upstream and that they need to get a clue from the Canadians.  This didn’t help.  I asked him if he would take a check.  He told me to call back in ten minutes while he called his supervisor.  I go back down to the waiting dock and help a french speaking family tie their powerboat up to the dock.  I tell them my tale of woe.  They say no problem, you write us a check and we will give you the cash. Again, the stereotype that the Francophones are a pain just doesn’t hold up.  I walk back up to the phone and tell the American lock master that a french speaking family just took my check and I have the cash to go through.  He tells me it is going to be at least an hour, but while he is talking to me another powerboat sneaks in the lock before he can close the gates and turn it around for a supposed freighter that is coming.  I point out that a boat is already in the lock and ask if we can go through.  He says we can if we go quickly.  We quickly untie and get in the lock, but while we are getting in another sailboat comes in behind us.  This sailboat should be sunk and the couple immediately transferred to an RV in Arizona or a timeshare in Kentucky.  They try over and over again to tie up, eventually needing two lock employees to finally get tied up.  It was an embarrassment for all sailboat owners everywhere.  I apologized to the lock employees for the hassle.  Almost immediately out of the locks is Cornwall.  We go to Marina 200 and tie up, get the bikes out and check out the town to get ready for the arrival of family tomorrow. 

July 28

Today is family day.  Deb’s sister Marcia is on her way to Michigan to visit Mom and Dad and we time it so that we are in Cornwall on the way out.

Rachael, another sister, has taken a train from the Bronx to Vermont"> and hitches a ride with Marcia. Marcia's husband bill is going to show up later in the day after work on the Dairy farm is done with another car that Rachael can take back to the train in Vermont.  Read it again.  The end result is a lot of people show up for the day.  We all go for a walk, the kids swim, we eat hamburgers off the grill, and then everyone is gone that fast.  We welcome visitors.  If you are interested in coming, just let us know the date you are available and then when that date comes we will let you know where we are.  We have double bed that pulls out, so we can fit a couple.

July 29

We take the bikes out on a great bike path that follows the seaway.  It is impeccably maintained.  We plan a 40 mile bike ride but stumble upon a group of  pioneer type homes that have been moved from the “lost villages” that were flooded when the Seaway was built.  Over a dozen villages were flooded to make room for the seaway, and two towns were built to accommodate the 600 homes that were moved.  I love this kind of thing and we spent over four hours reading and learning.  Much to my absolute surprise Jannelle and Bianca loved it also.  When it was time to go, they wanted to stay.  We rode back and untied the boat.  We sailed just down river to an Indian reservation and anchor in a totally calm quiet spot in the lee of an island.  Deb dreams that night that an Indian is shooting teeny tiny arrows at her in church.  Several times during the night I hear an outboard powered boat going full blast in the pitch dark with no lights on.  I hope they see our anchor light. 

July 30

While going through the lock today we meet a great couple from Colorado, Dan and Myla.  They are easy to talk to, intelligent and fun loving.  Myla helms the boat.  We later find out Myla is a principle on leave and both agree that she would be great to work under.  Dan is an engineer so we speak the same language.  We end up anchored by them at the end of the day, so we bring them just made warm bread and spend the evening talking in their boat.  One of the bonuses of sailing is the people you meet. 

July 31

We sail down to Montreal hoping to stay in the old port, which requires going against the current for about two miles.  Dan and Myla, on Kiaros who have three times the horsepower we do with about the same weight suddenly slow down and turn around.  We turn around to see what is up and they say their overheat alarm went off.  We both go to Longueuil Marina and take a slip.  Dan the engineer and Rolland the diagnostic tech go way overboard, taking the impeller out and disassembling the heat exchanger only to find that the intake is packed with seaweed.  Dan admits he should have listened to Myla who suspected that this was what was wrong.  At least they know their impeller is in good shape.  Dan and Myla buy us all dinner for the help I gave them unnecessarily taking their engine apart.  It was yummy.