June 22: Penetanguishene to Lauley Island - And Our First Lock on the System

We are sitting at the Penetanguishene town dock. This will be the first day of the Trent-Severn adventure and everybody is nervous. Even the people walking down the pier look at us nervously. It must be what Shackleton felt like before he set off. Or before the others tried to eat him later. Something like that. 

Ernest Shackleton. See how nervous he looks? And tasty?

Thursday morning, while Cappie was entering our first day's route on the chart-plotter, I experimented with different options for locking through with the tinny.  We'll discover what the various lock-masters prefer as we go along, and it will be good to be prepared with some options. We may have to lock the big boat through first and then tie her up and then lock through the little boat, but other options are to quickly shift the tow harness and tow the tender on a short leash right into the lock, and/or to efficiently tie it to the hip at short notice. It all might depend on whether there are other boats waiting to lock through too.

I cast us off (and leapt on board) from the town dock and Cappie expertly spun the trawler 180 degrees in a basin made snug by two replica wooden heritage vessels, amongst other boats, and we crossed the bay. We bought fuel at Hindson Marina as they had the lowest diesel rate going ($1.85/L.), and also bought some stainless-steel clips for the new quick-change towing gear aforementioned. Then, after hovering out-of-range of the marina while I refitted the tinny with the new lines and clips, we headed out. It would be our last trip out of Penetang Bay. 

I enjoyed the simple task of putting together a voyaging lunch of kielbasa, cheese, crackers, fresh strawberries, and clementines, and we ate on the bridge as Cappie piloted the twelve or so nautical miles at a gentle 7-8 knots.  Then I set lines and had fenders at the ready for Lock 45. I called to say we were approaching. It can be a difficult lock to get up to as there can be a strong current coming from the dam but you can’t really get a sense of it until you are caught in it, as the marked channel is a series of tight turns before the lock and dam comes into view. 

Friends who locked through a few weeks ago reported a very strong push to port just before the blue line wall, which would make it a tricky tie-up to wait for the doors to open. (The wall with the thick blue-line is where a vessel is meant to wait if you want to lock through.) By calling ahead we were hoping to have a clear passage straight into the lock once we got through the tough current.  On the phone, one of the young, friendly lock-masters assured us that this was the case. The doors were open. He said he would watch for us as we came into view under the Hwy 400 bridge and then would open the swing bridge to let us move directly into the lock chamber. 

A typical lock with the blue line visible

A few minutes before we reached the 400 Hwy bridge, a solo "Personal Watercraft" whizzed past us, with a wave, and a wake. An older dude at 20 knots. Unfortunately for us, this older dude jetted around the corner out of our sight and straight into the open lock which had been awaiting us, and informed the lock-master that we were "a ways away". So they closed the doors and, with just the single Sea-Doo inside, the lock was raised. This meant that when the lock came into view, we would be surprised.

Old Dude on a Sea-Doo or perhaps, Sea-Dude, would be more apt

Hi, it's me, Cappie, now. Having successfully negotiated the narrow passage under Hwy 400, I brought us into the strong current which emanates from the dam at Lock 45. As noted, it did push us to port so I had to power up to fight the surge. Unfortunately, I didn't take into account the sling-shot effect of emerging from the current just before the blue line wall. So we came in hot, as they say. We hit the wall going about 2 knots, which doesn't sound like much but the boat weighs 12 tons, so... Anyhoo, I managed to come in at as gentle an angle as possible and the only damage, other than to our nerves, was to the fenders that saved us. One of them burst. He was a good fender and will be fondly remembered as a Bonny Bumper. We buried him at sea with full honours.

This is how it would have looked had we actually tossed the fender

We were finally admitted to our first lock and, with the tin boat at our port side, slipped nicely into the lock wall on our starboard. Our first lock, in eleven years. So far, mixed success. The lock ascended and after reaching the top the doors opened to let us out. I now made my second mistake. I tried to stay as far off the port-side wall as possible to allow for the tin boat on our hip, but the current and wind pushed us back against that wall and the tinny scraped against it with a loud screech. Many hands came to help push us off, but couldn't reach the side of the boat. Brooke was finally able to fend us off with the boat hook while loosening and swinging the tin boat behind us. We exited the lock. Phew. Again no damage except to my ego. Here's a jaunty little video of our lock voyage. Don't worry, it's not too long.

We decided to find a spot to anchor for the night and headed for Lauley Island which is a Public island on Little Lake. It doesn't seem to be Public, however, as there is a shipping container-structure on steel girders perched somewhat on, or against, the shore. It looks industrial but there are flower baskets and Muskoka chairs on a deck attached to it. The following morning we awake to read a CBC story about the banning of Floating Homes, and darned if this isn't the very structure pictured. What a coincidence! If the people there are the creators of the LOTB (Living On The Bay) business, they must be having a hell of a day, as the CBC reports that their structure is now deemed illegal and so not allowed on the water. Here is the CBC Floating Homes Story   

As mentioned, this island is classified as Public land, which is why we anchored here, as we expected there would be no cottages. 

The Floating Home in all its glory

As it would turn out, the owners of the quartet of grey shipping containers have spent some $450,000 and seem to be having fun, barbecuing and playing with their dog. So life goes on. As shall we, tomorrow. Or so we thought...

The Lauley Island anchorage