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 45th 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)!
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