Midland to King Bay, ON July 22 - 27, 2016

July 22 - 27, 2016

Once settled into our slip at Bay Port positioned in ‘outer-Mongolia,’ we realized that we’re not in the town proper of Midland, ON, but rather in a suburb of sorts called Sunnyside (sounds like a run in Park City). I was confident that we’d make good use of our folding bicycles which have not had their wheels touch land in riding mode during 2016. Note: We had them overhauled in Waterford, NY, when we observed at least one deflated tire so they should be good and ready! We off-loaded the bikes and went for a test ride—straight to the <40’ pool where I wanted to test my shoulder repair from early December, 2015. It hasn’t been an easy rehab by a long shot, so I was curious as to just what the joint could handle. I’ve proven it can handle locks!

Six lengths (wow) in chilly water coupled with a roundtrip bike ride has us back to the slip in time to rev up some balsamic chicken leftovers (thank goodness for our rather spacious freezer) for dinner after which we spent the remainder of the evening posting lift-lock and chute-railway-lock videos on Facebook so all of you could further enjoy our journey. Almost like being here with us!

Saturday morning we followed the prescribed short route to downtown on our morning walk which was almost 80 minutes in duration roundtrip. The Simcoe County Trail signage confirmed the fact we’re still in said county, and we were very thankful for the finished asphalt surface covering this neck of the woods; our biking skills on these folding bikes need all the help they can get for safe travel! Clay and I both find balancing our ‘funky’ bikes more challenging than our regular bikes. I worked on some desk work requiring uninterrupted concentration while Clay hailed a taxi (he quickly found the shortcut via various docks to the office where the hailing took place) and went to tour the Keewatin, a turn-of-the-century lake steamer owned by the Canadian Railway which has been preserved and opened to tourists. The Keewatin was built at the same time and by the same shipyard as the Titanic. Clay’s interest was furthered by the fact that the Keewatin was owned by the Peterson family, the same family who built the Mary A (River Queen houseboat).

I enjoyed a delightful ‘me’ day, first biking to downtown where I found the downtown grocery store for a bit of provisioning, then returned to stow purchases and head to the pool for an attempt at eight lengths (wow). Clay joined me at the pool where, among other things, we discussed dinner options. We had earlier tried and failed to obtain reservations at the Trip-Advisor-highly-rated Boathouse Eatery, so had to come up with plan b. No worries, we knew we wouldn’t starve as I found our go-to emergency pizza freezer-stashed along with miscellaneous pieces of restaurant-purchased leftover slices.

Following a Sunday morning ‘big’ breakfast of eggs, toast and fruit (sound like all we do is eat), we mounted our bikes and found our way to Little Lake Park where day two of Watercross Races were the draw. I didn’t know what ‘watercross’ was, but quickly discovered snow mobiles modified for water travel racing in laps around a defined course on Little Lake. We had arrived for the big race event, and I coincidentally struck up conversation with a knowledgeable gal whose brother was racing. As he ended the race, rather than running up onto the sand (preferred method of stopping), he came to a dead stop about 30’ offshore, sinking himself and his mobile. When my friend asked her brother what happened, he replied, “I took my hand off the throttle. Quickest way to sink the ‘boat.’” How much we were learning! We continued to watch the racers start, stop, purge water from sunken mobiles, etc. A fun way to spend Sunday afternoon, we mingled among the masses gathered in the park, enjoying the races and lunching on snack bar food.

Biking back by way of Valu-Mart (downtown grocery store), we purchased that which we could carry and arrived back to Bay Port just in time for an abruptly-called Georgian Bay meeting for the Loopers in port. Two-plus hours later we emerged bleary-eyed and stunned from TMI, but well-prepared for our upcoming travel. Thank you, Scott, for sharing your expertise and highlighting our nav charts for us!

‘The thirty thousand islands of Georgian Bay stretch over a hundred miles offering the boater hundreds of anchorages and tantalizing fragments of the past. The appeal of these islands (and there are probably twice as many as the name implies) comes from their geological character, from the purity of the water and air, and from the fact that generations of men and women have worked and played among them.’ Travelers’ accounts often associate sudden, violent storms with Georgian Bay. The bare rocky islands are threatening when strong westerlies drive spray over them. But the maze-like appearance of the islands, which makes navigation challenging, has passages that provide shelter from the storm and hollows filled with blueberries. We had much to look forward to!

Another bike ride took us to the Boathouse Eatery for dinner; when unable to get Saturday night reservations, I had booked Sunday night at this ‘popular dining spot with a spectacular view of Georgian Bay located at the Town Docks of Midland.’

Monday morning Bay Port’s Tomo arrived to transact the routine maintenance on our port and starboard engines while, later morning, Rene arrived to trouble-shoot the generator problem. Leaving the menfolk to handle the boat issues, I decided I needed the one-stop shopping fix offered by Wal-Mart, a hearty 5.4 km from Bay Port Marina. I was good to go, donning a backpack, waistpack, and carrying a trio of bungee cords, a shopping list and a bike lock. Memories of the Baltimore bike theft were far too fresh to risk leaving the bike unlocked.

My Wal-Mart expedition was an exercise in estimation as to exactly how much I could transport back to the boat. I’m sure I maxed out my load, strapping a package onto the back fender rack and another on my back. I can’t resist fresh produce when given the opportunity, so I started my shopping there, but added a select few items before checking out. I was unable to find the 8.5 x 11” boat card sleeves which necessitated an additional roundtrip from the marina to Staples, 3.8 km away in the opposite direction. My but I’m getting a good orientation to Midland! And, I logged a cool 18.4 km or 8.4 miles on my bike this day.

Between trip A and trip B, I got an update from Clay as to Rene’s findings which were incomplete but not looking good. As it turned out, we had lost a leg of the generator (I’m learning far more about these topics than I’d ever planned) which was not repairable without a major overhaul requiring a considerable investment of time. Rene rigged the generator to enable us to continue our journey (gen will charge SaSea’s batteries), but disables the hot water heater, AC, oven and stove while at anchor. And, of course, Georgian Bay offers a multitude of beautiful anchorages and a minimum of marinas. Life is an adventure!

We took Tuesday in port to plan for this change of plans, deviating on our morning walk to the downtown home improvement store (much like a large Ace Hardware) to look for a hot plate. Don’t know if credit goes to the captain or first mate for this idea, but ‘necessity is the mother of invention.’ We were shopping for quality on the cheap, so the latest and greatest in induction hot plates at a cool $189.99 held little interest! Nor did a quartet of hot plates packaged in a box of considerable size which would probably add a taxi ride to the cost which wasn’t cheap. With both Wal-Mart and Canadian Tire accessible by bike, we researched possibilities at both; I opted for the latter at +$2 but a lesser distance on bike with an uphill climb to CA Tire (23 min) and all downhill coming back (15 min).

Additional tasks on Tuesday were launching the dinghy to make sure its performance was up to par (we anticipated using the dinghy a lot); dropping and retrieving the anchor for same purpose (ditto on use); purchasing a few menu items doable in the microwave (baked potatoes for example); restocking Clay’s beer supply (Joe, you and he made a dent); gassing the dinghy; defrosting the freezer; and finally a swim in the pool. Almost all of these tasks hold a story, but suffice to say we had a delightful day with lunch by dinghy at fabulous downtown Dino’s Deli (Clay’s comment, “If I were younger, I’d franchise one of these.”); purchase of two 24-packs of Bud Light rolled out of backroom storage on a conveyor belt, each of which came in a backpack, all for a cool $81+ Canadian (we were told the backpacks were ‘free,’ a current Budweiser promo); and twelve lengths (wow) in the marina pool.

Fueled and pumped out Wednesday late morning, we mastered our first full day on Georgian Bay to anchor at King Bay. We set anchor short of our destination of Wani Bay because of storm clouds which threatened our courage at going farther; when we compared Wani Bay to King Bay for anchoring specs, we found King Bay to have the edge. So down went the anchor and up propped our feet, happy to relax after about four hours of navigating. Clay had his usual and customary chart plotter loaded with the Canadian charts of Georgian Bay. But I was shuffling between two sets of charts, trying to get a grip! Ah, the deep breath of sweet success having met the challenge of avoiding rocks. We were hoping for more days like these.

So, as we end our first ‘full’ day of travel on the Georgian Bay, I close my email to you and open my eyes and ears to the teachings of Clay with subject of generator limitations operating on one leg. (At least it’s the generator operating on one leg and not one of us!)

Orillia to Midland, ON July 19 - 22, 2016

July 19 - 22, 2016

Shortly after bidding Joe Weston adieu in Orillia, ON, I bundled a week’s worth of accumulated dirty laundry and linens into my roller tote, exchanged a $5 bill for a handful of quarters and trotted off to the nearest laundromat. My task came to an abrupt halt when the washers (priced according to three load sizes: $3.75, $6.50 and $9) required loonies additional to quarters. Unable to make the change machine accept my $20 bill, I sought help from the attendant who cursed the plastic bill (Canadian paper money is actually made of plastic) as she repeatedly tried to make the exchange happen. We both sighed in relief when the machine regurgitated sixteen loonies and sixteen quarters; I’ve been in Canada long enough to quickly recognize the coins now. Once deciding the appropriate machinery (why can’t this be simple?), I started and finished the process with relative ease in a relatively short timeframe.

I trotted back to the marina, stowed the laundry, made the beds and regrouped for another walk in search of a hairdresser; I was in desperate need of a cut with ten-plus weeks growth on my short ‘do. Friend Susan (Eagle Heart) reported earlier success at First Choice (a chain much like Supercuts or Great Clips), so I located the shop, showed hairdresser Shannon my style picture and hoped for the best. I opted for a bit longer style because courage escaped me for my usual and customary short style. My Melbourne, FL experience has yet to fade from my memory. Post haircut, I still had time for a brief stop at Liquidation Nation, another suggestion from Susan, to check out exercise skorts at a very appealing BOGO price. A huge thank you to Susan for both suggestions! Early eve we welcomed John and Susan aboard for docktails and conversation on the SaSea Sally fly bridge.

It was almost noon Wednesday before we departed Port of Orillia after having completed a day’s worth of housekeeping tasks during three short morning hours. We enjoyed a pretty cruising day covering 24.5 miles with only one lock (Couchiching #42) and arrived at Swift Rapids Lock #43, opting to spend the overnight tied to the gray line adjacent to Blue Moon. We quickly befriended Penny and Jerry, exchanged a bit of knowledge and apprehension about upcoming Big Chute Marine Railway Lock #44, then dined fashionably late on good-ole staple menu items of grilled burgers and zucchini. If Clay didn’t like zucchini prior to our starting the Great Loop in August, 2013 (he didn’t), he’s learned to like it now.

Apparently, the aroma produced by our Magma grill carried to the nearby woods and, in particular, to one baby raccoon who mounted our boat (ladder entry?) around 1:00 a.m. Once a mother, always a mother, I sensed something amiss probably almost immediately (don’t know if I felt the slightest weight shift when the critter boarded or heard a scratching noise out the screened stern door). Nonetheless, I crawled to the end of the bed, peered out the doorway into the night—right into the face of the baby raccoon. “Clay, Clay!” I reversed course and shook hubby awake with, “There’s a raccoon on our starboard stern corner gunnel.” (Now, I vigorously doubt that the words ‘starboard stern corner gunnel’ flowed out in rapid sequence at 1:00 a.m.! I probably said, “There’s a raccoon on our boat!” But the emphasis was the same!!!!) At that time, I was unaware as to what damage can be done to a boat by a wild animal. I still have fond memories of childhood friend Christy’s pet raccoon Cheevie (short for mischevious) who we chased through the Cooper home, over sofas and around chairs with such delight. Christy, your mom must have been a saint. Note: Coopers also had a pet alligator they kept in the bathtub at one point in our childhood!

Clay grabbed the 4’ PVC pipe which he uses to prop open the bed storage compartment and out the door he went. Realize that I’m now every bit as concerned about the safety of my husband as I am with the fact that this wild animal has boarded our boat. Clay banged repeatedly on various boat surfaces yelling, “Git” or “Scat” or something of that nature while I’m dashing from screened doorway to screened doorway at Clay’s insistence trying to see where the little critter was. Suddenly, I realized the door out of which Clay had exited was standing wide open. Oh no! Long story short, somehow we managed to scare the poor thing off the boat without damage to either boat or human. Note: We’ve heard boater stories since our episode of massive numbers of raccoon bites requiring rabies shots, extensive suturing following battle between boater and critter, and multiple screen replacements from raccoon’s attempted entry into the boat’s cabin. Enuf said. We were L-U-C-K-Y!

And, of course we had a tale to tell our Blue Moon friends Thursday morning as both boats traveled the Swift Rapids Lock #43 and on to the piers of the Big Chute basin where we tied and hiked a short distance to study the working of this railway lift. ‘What could be a chaotic situation is handled with professional cool by Parcs Canada’s experienced staff, making the railway a simple—albeit exiting—experience for first-time riders. Lock #44 forces the opportunity to pilot your boat over land to the body of water below the pool at Big Chute. The process involves driving your boat onto the railway car, following instructions to allow the Parcs Canada staff to set stout slings to cradle your boat for the ride across land to the awaiting pool on the other side, snapping photo upon photo to preserve this awesome experience as you and your boat ride the rails to the pool below where your boat is released into the waters where your Trent-Severn journey continues.’

Surviving the railway unscathed, SaSea Sally entered the waters of Port Severn shortly after noon. ‘Port Severn has always been a transportation hub and the activities here reflect the history of much of the northern Trent-Severn Waterway and Georgian Bay.’ Like most boaters, we breathed a sigh of relief at the thought of only one more lock to go as we rafted to fellow Looper boat Trawler Life at the Parc docks. Rafting was necessary as a large contingency of boats was already gathered here, and we readily accepted Cathy and Mike’s offer to tie alongside while Captain Clay made decision as to his next move. 1 p.m. became 2 became 3 became 4, and the antics of the crowd progressed with the afternoon. Swimming and floating, chatting, boat and town visiting were many of the relieved-to-be-here activities until all gathered for docktails at 5:00. SaSea Sally remained rafted to Trawler Life until a weather alert had the good captain making arrangements for a solid shore tie on the blue line, consent compliments of the Parcs Canada staff. Hooray, we were tied to terra firma for the eventuality of a storm that never happened (other than a spritz or two of rain).

Being on the blue line Friday morning gave us first shot at the 45^th and final lock on the Trent-Severn which we handled with ease shortly after 9 a.m. Because we were now entering the unfamiliar and rock-infested waters of the Georgian Bay, we tied to the gray line upon exit to study our charts for a safe journey across the bay to Midland, ON, where routine maintenance work was to be done as well as now a new issue—generator—which reared its ugly head in the late evening prior. Like a dog’s bark is often worse than its bite, the trip went flawlessly thanks to our charts and a good-eye by Captain Clay at the Potato Island Cut!

As we arrive at Bay Port Marina, I will again close in anticipation of a few days shore leave (well, not really shore leave, but we will be marina-based for a few days—with a pool, bicycles, and a friendly and competent staff to handle any and all of our issues)!

Peterborough to Orillia, ON July 13 - 19, 2016

July 13 - 19, 2016

After a morning walk through the Peterborough cemetery (isn’t the cemetery always a great place for a cardio workout?), SaSea Sally departed Peterborough Marina early afternoon with Captain Clay at the helm, Sally and Joe Weston as crew. Joe, boating with us for the third time, was anxious to experience the Canadian waters, locks and cooler temps; he’d soon get the Canadian waters and the myriad of locks, but cooler temps were not to be. Hey Joe, two out of three ain’t bad.

Joe was eager to assist in the locking process, so after a bit of coaching from me, he assumed the stern position as we entered Ashburnham Lock #20. He quickly mastered the mechanics involved which was a good thing because we had five more locks to maneuver today alone, covering a total of only 7.2 miles of horizontal travel. At this point, we were traveling upriver, so our passing through each lock was from a down position traveling vertically up (like filling the bathtub); this can be a bit more turbulent than traveling from up vertically down.

Shortly beyond Lock #20 (as in 0.6 miles beyond), we reached our second lock for the day which was a magnificent feat in engineering—a lift lock, one of two on the Trent-Severn. I think Joe wanted to join us on this leg of our trip particularly because of this very lock. Due to the uniqueness of the lift lock, Clay chose to stop at the adjacent Visitor’s Center for a quick study and an easing of the mind. Boaters often choose to observe the process before embarking on the challenge because of this uniqueness. Note: ‘The Peterborough Lift Lock was completed in 1904. Each of the two pans weighs 1300 tons when filled. With one pan up and the other down, the two balance each other. It does not matter how many boats are in either pan. A boat displaces its own weight in water. When it is time to lower one pan and raise the other, one extra foot of water (130 tons) is allowed to enter the upper pan. This extra weight allows the upper pan to push down and raise the lower pan to the top level. The two pans are locked in place, and the extra water is let out of the lower pan. Boats enter and exit the upper and lower pans, and the process is repeated.’

Clay and I have had fun posting pictures on Facebook over the months of traveling the Loop, sharing our experiences with friends and family. I opted to video the Peterborough Lift Lock in action to share as well. A picture, especially a video, says a thousand words!

Two down, four (locks) to go today. We entered Nassau Mills Lock #23 in close quarters with other boats, most notably a rental houseboat to our bow (the playground slide almost playing footsie with our pulpit’s anchor). Knowing it to be a rental (which screams ‘caution’ to all experienced boaters in Canada), I was extremely uncomfortable as to exactly HOW tightly we were packed into this lock (reminded me of sardines in a peel-back tin from days long ago; do they still come canned that way?). Not only this lock would we do in this configuration, but as well the next few unless one or a few of the other boats (or ours) decided to hang back at the gray line for a swim or a siesta. The Parcs Canada female lock staffer assured me we were fine, to which the female houseboat passenger added, “No worries, ours is a rental.”  Really? Note: We were fine, but I kept a keen eye on the situation until we crested and exited.

Did I mention that it was beastly hot today? Beastly. Brutally. Take your pick of descriptors, I can’t emphasize how dramatically hot it was! Yet, once arriving and locking through Sawer Creek Lock #25 (our home for the overnight), Clay decided grilled burgers and romaine were the menu items of choice. Have at it, dear Captain! I was thrilled because I prepare the dinner, but Clay, after 37 years of marriage, actually does the grilling on the Magma grill aboard. Sure hope this carries over to home life at 417! Cold beer helped ease the pain of cooking, no doubt!

At 1:20 a.m. (yes, I did get a ‘fix’ on the digital clock time), I bolted out of bed to the sound of ? piercing the air. I had forgotten how penetrating the sound of the weather alert alarm can be, especially when awakened from a sound sleep. Quick to close the screened doors, windows and portholes with notice of pending thunderstorms, Clay and I were amazed that Joe slept through it all. My, how I wish I had that talent, Joe! But, you missed all of the excitement—which turned out to be nothing but some warmish cabin temperatures with lack of air flow!

Thursday dawned overcast with a bit of spritzing and cooler temperatures. Our morning walk took us down a Rotary trail adjacent to the roadway where we found a host of fallen green apples with which to exercise our pitching arms and soccer-kicking legs. Ah, the memories of growing up years when we created our own outdoor fun. Joe once again brought along his trusty camera, ever ready for a photo op; we have a celebrity onboard, one photo from a previous trip actually made publication in the Columbia Daily Tribune.

Today looked to be a day of 23.4 miles and five locks (with names of Lakefield, Young’s Point, Burleigh Falls, Lovesick and Buckhorn) so best we be on the waterway by a decent 9:45 a.m.; that’s early—or maybe just shy of average—for us! We had a destination of Buckhorn Marina and an appointment there to install the new aft head sump pump, so we actually knew the parameters of our travel today (often we just travel until we quit or something forces us to quit for the day).

Our only stop along the way other than blue-line wait time was at Lockside Trading Company at Young’s Point Lock #27. Young’s Point is a tourist community filled with cottages and several small gift shops, with Lockside Trading Company being an award-winning general store shopping opportunity carrying Kawartha ice cream (Joe and Clay had ice cream cones for lunch—or lunch appetizer I should say) and a unique assortment of gifts, souvenirs and treasures galore. Joe was in search mode for souvenirs and for a birthday present for wife Terry whose birthday fell soon after his return home; so he was on a mission—and the Kawartha ice cream helped fuel his quest!

We locked through the Buckhorn Lock #31, and Clay nailed a windy docking on the face dock of Buckhorn Marina at a respectable 4:00 p.m. He had little wiggle room to dock the boat between a perpendicular wall and the bow of a resident boat—plus the challenges of wind and an unmarked submerged rock just off the shoreline (I question the legitimacy of this latter obstacle because, during our stay here, we saw no evidence of local boaters avoiding this area; I’m wondering if the dock hands were merely trying to get a ‘rise’ out of us which would be in very poor taste!)

Dinner Thursday evening was a tasty George Foreman-grilled salmon, cilantro lime rice and steamed veggies. Winds forced the use of the George Foreman as, with windy conditions, we have trouble keeping the propane fire lit on the outside-mounted Magma grill, our preference for grilling. We endured storms off and on through midnight during which time we watched the television coverage of the bus killings in Nice, France. What a cruel world we live in!

I had opportunity to explore the town of Buckhorn solo Friday morning while Clay oversaw the sump pump installation and screen Velcro repair; don’t remember what Joe was ‘up to,’ but as I recall he ventured out on a picture-taking mission of the area neighboring the marina. Once again stiff winds in excess of 22 knots (multiply by 1.2 to get mph) accompanied our departure and travel across Chemung Lake, through Bobcaygeon Lock #32, and on to Fenelon Falls which is a busy tourist town and a popular overnight stop for boaters. We arrived at the base of Fenelon Falls Lock #34 (Lock #33 was not to be for us as it was traversed by those boaters traveling from Sturgeon Point to Port Perry) and tied to the gray line for the overnight with fellow Loopers John and Susan (Eagle Heart). Our original intent was to tie only long enough to check for dock space at the top of the lock, but we found little motivation to hurry through this lock to join the throngs of boats gathered topside. Our position gave us prime viewing of the folks fishing along the banks of the falls’ base, and a short walk away gave us an exquisite view of the falls for which the town gets its name. Fenelon Falls is said to have been named for Abbe Fenelon, who fell over the falls in the late 1600s. Fenelon Falls was one of the first communities in Ontario to use water power to generate electricity. We took opportunity to dine locally tonight and opted for a ribs joint, described in our guide book as ‘a small, casual pub-style place’ with a funky, creative logo named The Cow & Sow. (Portions were ample to ensure a second meal of leftovers! Hooray!) Two thumbs up to Fenelon Falls for its really well-signed streets. Every corner has a sign—not just with the street name, but also pointing you towards shops, churches, and attractions such as the museum, beach and park.

Saturday morning’s walking route took us along the lock’s top dock wall where Clay spent more time chatting than walking. I chose to jump start my metabolism by walking a portion of the Victoria Rail Trail which borders Cameron Lake, passing by Garnet Graham Beach Park where already families were gathering to play. I happened on this trail quite by accident and was enthralled by its beauty, peace and tranquility.

With breakfast underway, we were interrupted by an ‘all hands on deck’ call by Captain Clay, alerting us to the need to lock through with Eagle Heart. Yes, sir! All hands on deck, Joe and I were quick to respond, to set lines and fenders not only for the locking process but to dock at the top wall for a shopping opportunity.  Joe, still in search of the perfect birthday gift and souvenir had a wealth of shops from which to choose. “Fenelon Falls has enough gift stores and antique shops to keep even a diehard shopaholic happy—some of the shops have been in business up to 50 years.” Joe returned to the boat with a package or two in hand; well done, Joe, well done!

Today’s travel took us 15.8 miles and three locks (Fenelon Falls, Rosedale, and the Kirkfield Lift Lock). This particular route contained a passageway with signage requesting we make a securite call which was a first for us. We handled it with ease! We also handled Kirkfield Lift Lock with ease, being quite similar to the Peterborough Lift Lock with the exception of the lift structure being an ‘open’ pan which contained our boat. So, the thrill was increased as you felt as though you were just ‘hanging out there.’ In addition, northbound boats proceed into the pan suspended nearly five stories in the air. Just 11.3 miles shy of the Kirkfield Lift Lock, as we traveled Balsam Lake, we ‘changed direction.’ At this point, we were more than 840 feet above sea level and at the highest point in the Trent-Severn Waterway. Whether north- or southbound, boaters at this point lock down for the remainder of the trip. So, Joe had a new process to absorb (well, not really new except for the fact that the ‘bathtub’ would empty instead of fill).

Once we completed the Kirkfield Lift Lock #36, we determined this to be a good spot for the overnight so we secured to the dock wall and proceeded to meet and greet those joining us here. I became well acquainted with a grandma Jane who was awaiting the arrival of her husband Jack and four grandsons who had never made a day trip to include a lock(s). On a weight loss kick, she and I logged quite a number of Fitbit steps while we walked and talked; I welcomed female companionship, and she was truly a delight! While she and I walked, Joe and Clay helped catch the lines of Great Escape and proceeded to make small talk and ‘idle chit chat’ (undoubtedly about boating). Leftovers for dinner completed this fifth day of Joe’s Trent-Severn journey.

I had blocked off days to accommodate boating travel/movement each of Joe’s days aboard. But a weather review Saturday evening coupled with word-of-mouth indicated Monday’s crossing of Lake Simcoe would be a toss-and-tumble kind of day. Lake Simcoe is the largest body of water on the Trent-Severn measuring 19 miles long and 16 miles wide, with a shoreline of 144 miles. Leaving the protected waters of the canal, even those of us traveling the shortest route from the Trent Canal to The Narrows had 15 miles of open water to traverse. ‘Weather becomes a bigger factor, and when the wind is up, Lake Simcoe can be ugly.’

So, we modified our travel plans to reach our destination of Orillia Sunday evening instead of Monday evening. Wise move! Sunday’s travel would now encompass 30.6 miles and five locks. Lake Simcoe’s waters treated us kindly with smooth sailing once we handled Locks #37-41 in sequence of course with two smaller boats in somewhat cramped quarters.

Note: Prior to the entrance to Lake Simcoe, we encountered bridges with signage, “Bridge opens on request.” Problem: Bridge tenders don’t monitor the radio. Solution: Clay to the rescue, he indicated I should reconfigure quickly (because the first bridge was rapidly approaching, or rather we were rapidly approaching the first bridge and Clay so hates to slow down to a dead idle) the fly bridge intercom to broadcast our request. We use this intercom only to communicate internally fly bridge to salon and vice versa, so how to broadcast was an unknown to me. Wasn’t rocket science, but did elicit temporary stress of a level higher than I care to experience. That Clay! P.S. I’m now armed and dangerous with so many new talents I’m learning aboard! (You may credit or blame Sir Captain!)

We arrived at Port of Orillia straight up 4 p.m., rejoining Bright Angel a mere two slips to our port and India Jayne a mere two slips to our starboard. Hail to our friends Byron and Cynthia, Kit and Pam! Soon joined by John and Susan (Eagle Heart), we had a mini-rendezvous in the making. Joe called docktails on SaSea Sally’s fly bridge where there was no lack of interest in exchanging more boat stories; Joe even had a few of his own to tell by now. To say the least, dinner was a late one this evening so joyous was the Looper reunion!

I shooed the fellas off the boat Monday morning, indicating they needed some bonding (as if spending a week aboard a 43’ boat isn’t opportunity enough), and I needed some me time. On my early morning walk I had discovered a Gordon Lightfoot monument which Joe, ever a fan of such songs as “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” (perish the thought), quickly decided was his destination. Clay willingly accompanied Joe undoubtedly intending to steer Joe afterwards to Orillia’s Booches for a fish-and-chips lunch avec beer. I am highly doubtful that they walked the entire route, but neither fella would divulge the truth about any potential taxi ride. They do have taxis in Canada!

We ended the day at Brewery Bay Food Co., a ‘chill hangout with exposed-brick walls and lots of TVs offering burgers, poutine, pizza and bar fare’ where Joe challenged me to a drink coasters game which I’d like to say I handily won, but think it surely must have been a tie (Joe admitted to lots of practice!). Fun!

Tuesday morning, as Joe boarded the shuttle bound for the Toronto airport, we bid him a fond farewell, reminding him that Mi Casa Es Tu Casa…or rather Mi Barco Es Tu Barco! As we bid him farewell, I will also bid you farewell.