Tootling Around the TrentSystem Part Deux

I never in my life would have believed this, and I am still not sure that it has sunk in completely, but I've come to the conclusion that there is such a thing as too hot out for a cold beer. I tried earlier today, and it just didn't work. My body rejected that wonderful cold elixir of life. So I sit here at the picnic table and drink a bottle of water while I type this. To all my readers, please do not think less of me, I'll try again later after a refreshing swim.

Its getting to be a recurring issue with me, trying to get blog entries out. Like most of my other blogging friends, I am starting to lose the desire to keep it up. It is such a pain in the butt trying to get reliable wifi, and enough time to site down and use it. I was about to give it up completely when a gentleman in another Bayfield 29 motored by us the other day while we were at a dock. He yelled out, "I read your blog", and I knew that I couldn't give up writing it. Because, truth be told, I love doing it, and for all the people that I disappoint, or those that expect more than I can give, I really do this for myself. And, if along the way I entertain someone just a little bit, than so much the better for it. After this summer though, I have decided to change my format a little. I am going to start a Facebook page to follow Vita's travels. Even when wifi is so bad you can't upload a picture, you can usually get out a short status update. I am, however, not abandoning the blog, its just the updates may be fewer and farther apart. Ideally I would like to start a web page, and a you tube channel, and link them all together, but if I can't manage to keep up a blog, where the hell am I going to get the time to keep all that other stuff going. But I digress; on to your regular blogging.

BTW, you might want to grab a glass a wine, and bring the bottle with you. Its been a couple of weeks, and this entry might take awhile to read.

Lovesick lock. That's where I left off the last blog entry, because I wanted to upload some of the video we took while we were there. It was funny as hell. Problem is, as stated previously, wifi and time, both in short supply. Then today, I went looking for the videos, and I can't find them anywhere. I sure hope that I did not delete them. They have to be on one of the computers somewhere. I did a little cleanup of both machines about a week back, and sorted everything so I could find everything easily. Then I forgot where I put it. So forget the video for now. I hope to get some serious YouTube uploading done in the fall and winter, I have hours and hours of footage that needs to be edited down and made into something worth watching, and that is not going to happen out here.

Lovesick was great. It is the kind of place we like to be. Quiet, out in nature, and very few people. The first night we were there we were sitting down to dinner when Serena noticed a little face looking in the galley window. I stuck my head around the corner of the dodger, and there was this cute little raccoon with one paw on the boat, and his two siblings running off into the grass. His innocent little face hiding the true terrors that this little fellow could impart on a cruising boat. It was only 6:00 pm, right at supper, I thought, maybe coons like barbecue is all. They would visit us later, when Serena caught one trying to pry the window screen out of the galley; and throughout the night running around on deck, before Serena managed to scare them off. One of the neighbours didn't do so well, losing their dew worms, and a tube of polysporin left behind on deck.

There just so cute!

We enjoyed the location so much that we decided to stay for a second night. I think the old rules allowed only 1 night at this lock, but this year Parks Canada changed that. What to do on day two. Why go kayaking of course. Up to this point Serena had not even been in her new kayak. I had spent a couple of hours before we left padding around the river at home with Serena's Dad, But she as yet hadn't had the chance.

The ever bashful human in a kayak. Serena says that it was hard for me to hide in nature with a red kayak, but I think I was fairly well camouflaged.

Lovesick has a neat little canoe portage made with rollers. It was built by a local group to mimic the old portage that was built originally way back. It was kind of neat. Our dismounting and remounting skills weren't very impressive, but it was definitely easier than carrying them. Hopefully I find the videos, and we can upload them so that everyone else gets to laugh as hard as we did.

So this route took us from the top of the lock to the bottom. Or Lower Buckhorn Lake to Lovesick Lake, which I assume was the same lake until someone decided to build a lock and 4 dams to separate them.

The lift of the lock is only like 4 feet. So its not like it was a huge portage.

However, we like the modern way of going back up. Serena had asked the Lockmaster if the kayaks could go through the lock, and he said no problem, as he could clearly see the yearly passes on the kayaks. I couldn't find them, but he said they were there, and his word is the one that counts.

Leaving Lovesick was hard, especially since we were headed from the quiet of the wilderness into the misery of cottage country. It might be a wonderful place for twenty-year-olds on jet skies, but not so much for a cruising home.

We stopped in Buckhorn overnight, and then in Bobcaygen to provision and get some laundry done. It was perfect for that, everything close by. But other than than, nothing appealing. Oh, almost forgot, the home of Kawartha Dairy, where they make the ice cream. That was cool.

Then we got to Fenelon Falls. By then we had had enough of the cottage country rat race, and after a couple of hours walking around town we said screw it, and left for some peace. Why anyone would want to immerse themselves in that chaos is beyond me. But I guess if you spent all week couped up in an office or downtown Toronto condo, this would be a welcome break

We planned on anchoring out for the night. I picked a nice spot on the chart, but when we got there, someone on shore lit this nasty fire burning garbage and all kind of crud. Not so appealing. So we changed our plans yet again, and managed to find a spot on the wall at the next lock, just barely.

It would turn out to be a great decision. Rosedale was another one of those secluded locks. There were more boaters here than Lovesick, but they were the quiet kind. Looking for a little piece. We went swimming, and visited with the other boaters. It was just perfect.

At most lock stations you can find chairs like these put in place by Parks Canada. We shanghai'd this one at Rosedale for evening cocktails. Just picturesque, and did I mention peaceful.

I can't remember the name of the dog, but he was my new best friend. He wouldn't go home no matter how many times his owner Ralf called him. Until of course I finished the piece of cheese I was eating, and then poof, no more dog.

We left Rosedale the next day, and we probably should have stayed. But hind sight being as it is. We moved on. We had everything planned out for the next few days, and by the end of the day we were sitting at Hawkestone Yacht Club on the west side of Lake Simcoe, 4 days ahead of the schedule we had set in that morning. Always happens. Don't ask me how, I haven't figured it out. Nothing changes faster than our plans. 

Lift lock at Kirkfield.

Entering Lake Simcoe. Finally some open water. I have been suffering from tiny river fever all summer. We are sailors, we like big places. But something was missing, "the mast". I has been a problem for us all summer, and eventually it would send us over the edge, shortening our trip.

Open water is nap time. My Dad retired last year, at 65, and I keep telling him, the key to a good retirement, is naps, lots and lots of naps.

The members at Hawkestone treated us like family for the short few hours that we were there. We had hoped to catch up with some friends that we met on our travels south, but we weren't having any luck. We did eventually meet up in Midland for coffee, and we'll drop in on the way back. But for time being, we just kept moving.

Pitter patter of little feet in the night. We found these little footprints in the cockpit the night we stayed at Swift Rapids. Another beautiful, secluded spot.

Swift Rapids is the biggest conventional lock in the Trent System. 47 feet I think. But the water at the top was crystal clear, and it was really quiet. We'll spend a couple nights there on the way back.

Marine Railway. We have some video of this, "I think!", that we'll eventually get on YouTube, "I hope!" This was really neat. Serena sat in a lawn chair in the bow of the boat. We were right at the front, so it had the effect of her hanging 50 feet up in the air. The video is really cool, if somewhat understated, but I am glad she took the bow. Damn that was a long way down.

At the last lock in the system we helped this power boater thru the lock. Serena and her trying to save the world tour. This guy was on an old Chris Craft, wooden hull, big gas engines, 50 feet long, and he didn't now how to drive it, didn't have any crew, and was a little scary to watch. Serena figured if we helped him out, then we might save someone else the anxiety of going thru the lock with him. It was actually pretty smooth, and he let us off at the bottom of the lock. So technically we completed the Trent Severn Waterway before Vita did. Don't tell her though, we are keeping it a secret, she'll just get poutie.

By the time we got to lock 45 at Port Severn, I still had not opened the guide for Georgian Bay. Too busy doing the planning for our daily trips I guess. So we met friends for coffee in Midland, and headed out to anchor behind Beasoleil Island in Georgian Bay, so I could read the book and figure out where we were going.

We would spend 7 days there. Hiking all over the islands trails, fishing, swimming, sailing Lifeline, and just kicking back. It was a nice break, and a pretty little spot. I read the guide book, and knew where we were going, the problem was that we didn't know why we were going there. Its one of those strange epiphanies when you finally realize that you have no idea why you are doing what you are doing, your just doing it.

We tried to leave on day 5. We went into Honey Harbour, got some provisions, diesel, and a pumpout, and started heading out the small craft channel that tools its way up through Georgian Bay to the North Channel. But after getting the crap pounded out of us for 40 minutes by passing boats, we turned around and headed back to the anchorage in Chimney Bay. We just didn't have the desire to go any further north.

The truth is, that we just couldn't do it. We are sailors; Georgian Bay is probably the sailing mecca of Ontario. And where was our mast. Sitting in a rack in our yacht club in Trenton. It just felt wrong. Through the canals we had been an anomaly, but understandably, there are not a lot of sailboats in the canal system, even with their masts on deck. But out in the Bay, we were the only sailboat without a mast. We weren't an interesting anomaly, we were a misfit. I kept waking up in the morning expecting that Santa had moved us and poor Vita to the land of misfit toys.

As beautiful as the promises of Georgian Bay are, we just weren't comfortable, so we headed back into the canal system. We'll take our time going home, Stop to enjoy the things that we discovered we loved, and quickly skip through the things that we didn't. And never again will we make Vita be a pretend trawler. Are we glad we did the trip? Definitely. It had to me done, because it was there. We grew up on the Trent, we had to experience it, and it was a great experience. And next time we'll drive right through as fast as possible, and step the mast in Midland.

Fairy lake, on Beausoleil Island. One of the beautiful hiking trails looped around this lake.

Day 2 at Beausoleil, we went for a little hike, then drove Lifeline around the anchorage just taking it all in. We see these people waving from the shore, and when we waved back, they changed, motioning us to come over. So, curiosity got the better of us, and away we went. These too girls and their parents were visiting from Holland. The eldest was starting school in New York in the fall, so they were on a whirl-wind tour of North American before they left her to fly home. They had walked almost 4 hours from their campsite, and one of the girls was having a bad reaction to the deer fly bites. They asked if we could give them a ride back to their campsite. We of course obliged, and started the long 40 min, each way, trip to take them back. Lifeline had been set up for sailing, so the bottom plug was missing from the boat. With just the to of us on board, it wasn't a problem, but with the extra weight, the water was gushing up through the center board trunk flooding the dinghy. It was a constant battle to keep the water out of the boat. Of course they had to flag down the slowest dinghy in the anchorage. We did get them home, and other than an overheating engine problem on the way back, we managed the trip unscathed, and the girls appreciated the ride as it was better than taking the long walk back through the woods.

The trails were gorgeous, but the landscape was not all that different than what we have at home.

The views were a little better though.

Serena was excited about the hiking. She wanted to catch a glimpse of the Massasauga Rattle snake. She had never seen a rattle snake in the wild, and was keen to add that to her list of experiences. I told her not to get her hopes up. There were few and far between, plus they were very shy of humans. She kept looking for them anyway.

And then she spotted one. After walking about 20 kilometers of trail, her next foot would have landed just inches from this little guy. I managed to get some pictures and some video before we left the little fellow to himself.

 Of course Serena had to play with him a little first. Just can't keep her hands to herself. Serves her right really.

Just kidding. These little guys are endangered, and we would never mess with an animal that is already having a hard enough time with humans. This was a stone carving on a plaque, and Serena was just pretending to hold its head. Creepy though. The previous pictures are real, we just didn't touch it.

Vita in her anchorage. The misfit boat.

This is the largest Beech tree I have ever seen, so I got Vanna to stand beside it for reference. Now give me a vowel.

At some point we ran out of delicates. So I did a load of cockpit laundry. It seems we wear more clothes in Canada than in the Bahamas. Down there we could go 3 weeks easy.

This is what the small craft channel looked like. It was crazy.

So now we start the long drive back down through the Trent. We are at Lock 45, and are dragging our heels waiting for some friends that are coming out of Georgian Bay. They have their mast up! We are just going to relax, in fact I think I am going to go for a swim here very shortly. And it has cooled slightly, so the beer Serena just brought me is going down quite nicely. Until next time, remember, if you want to be a sailor, go to sailing places, and if you want to be power boater, go to the canals.

Vita back to one six.