The weather over the past few days has had one constant – it has been humid. We spent Saturday anchored in the little spot near Brockville. The day was hazy, with a few sprinkles. Alan has managed to get our recalcitrant outboard running so we headed in to Brockville to stretch our legs. It was a last minute decision and we can tell that the routines are not ingrained yet. We discovered that we had left our wallets, camera and identification behind. Too bad, no ice cream. While the Brockville Municipal marina is a great place to stop with boat, it does not provide a dinghy dock. We ended up asking at a less than full dockaminium place. Definitely high class digs for our little runabout.
We wandered down the main street, window shopped and admired the historic buildings. Certainly many of these towns along the St. Lawrence are struggling. We explored a small piece of railway history at the Brockville railway tunnel. We passed the Brockville rowing club and lamented the fact that the original Victorian building had been replaced with a utilitarian rental hall structure.
As we tootled back to the boat, admiring the houses, we discovered that our outboard had enough gas to get us to Brockville and half way back. Fortunately, the extra tank was not something we forgot.
Sunday dawned bright, sunny, no wind and hot. Certainly everyone was taking advantage of the holiday weekend. We carefully negotiated the narrow channels and remarkable current. It was fun watching all manner of boats but the process felt like a combination of the traffic and noise at Circuit Gilles Villeneuve and the motion of a roller coaster. Five hours later we breathed a sigh of relief when we dropped the anchor in a familiar spot, put up an awning and went in the water. I made sure I stayed closed to the boat to lessen the possibility of being run over by all of the buzzy little boats. Obviously we had chosen a good spot (not) because less than an hour later there were 6 or 7 more boats anchored within (too) close proximity. Fortunately, we know from experience that since all but one of them were motor boats, most would go home at dinner time. They did. The one sailboat that remained belonged to a man who gets 4 months off in the summer. His job is to prepare the ice for various Montreal curling clubs. Cool.
This morning was dull and windless as we pulled up the anchor. As the wind picked up we set the sails. and spent a couple of hours tacking up the channel to Kingston. Nice to know a few more things work the way they are supposed to. The weather service was broadcasting severe warnings about wind, rain, hail and tornados. We headed for Portsmouth Harbour marina. The first task was to have the tank pumped out and then to arrange for a slip. Given the forecast, we actually pleaded for a safe slip, their third choice. As it turned out, one storm cell went north of us and another south of us and right here it was a non-issue.For those interested, this is the location of the sailing events for the 1976 Olympics, and many subsequent CORK events. Portsmouth Harbour
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