Champing At The Boat

Howdy everybody. Well, it's April 2023 and we're going to be bringing the Mary Mary back down the Trent-Severn Waterway to take up residence somewhere further south. (Still in Canada,  though) We haven't actually got a place to stow her yet for the coming winter, but that's in the works. We're thinking somewhere in the Trenton/Belleville area. Any suggestions are welcome. We'll be launching her back into the water at Penetanguishene, probably around the end of May/beginning of June and hitting the Trent a week or so after that. No rush, certainly, so plenty of time for visiting and sight-seeing. 

We did the Trent system northbound in 2013, so we know what to expect, sort of. The lock at Kirkfield is still problematic but Parks Canada assures it will be up and running by the time we get there. (It's one of the first locks, southbound) Another dicey area, navigation-wise, is the channel underneath Hwy. 400. It's narrow and the water rush from the first lock at Port Severn can make it tricky. We've done it coming out, but not going in. In fact we did a little video of it the first time. Here it is.

 

I have included a link to a map of the waterway, so you can see where you might like to hook up with us as we motor along. 

Map of the Trent-Severn Waterway

Still a couple of months away but champing at the bit to get underway. 

Cappie out.

 In today's epic adventure, the Mary Mary encounters a squall while at anchor. Warning: Virtually Nothing Bad Happens.

Mister Cookie's View from the Bilge (continued, underway)

This morning I, Bos'n, awoke to find the milk carton sweating in the fridge, checked the fridge temp readout under the bench and found it displaying 17°C.  Checked to see that the breaker on the D.C. Panel hadn't switched off, then went down into the engine room to inspect the strainer basket that supplies water to the pump which cools the fridge motor that we installed in 2010.

 

 

The pump had been sounding noisy to me lately, but I never bothered to check into it. Lazy Bones. 

Flashlight showed the strainer cloudy and dark thru the glass. I closed the seacock and removed the cap on the strainer, found the basket clogged with grasses, so removed it and cleaned it out. 

 

Unscrewed the 7/16 bolt on the underside of the strainer unit, and flushed the glass with fresh water. Lots of gunk... 

 

Thought it best to pull the hose off the inflow port to the pump too, to flush it, in case. Gotta say, a peek inside the front of the pump showed some slime too, but the Bos'n might wait til we get back to the marina before taking the whole unit out to clean it. 🥴. 

 

Flushed and replaced everything, tightened caps, bolt, and nuts, opened the seacock, and the fridge motor is back and running, and maintaining its 5° setting. 

 

You mentioned a couple of weeks ago, Cappie, that the air conditioner had made a funny sound the last time you turned it on--but we haven't used it since--I checked it this morning, too, and found it also clogged. 

 

The generator strainer was clear of debris. 

 

Perhaps during the engines check tomorrow we should inspect the raw-water intakes for them as well.

 

Also, have a peek at the impellers. 

End of the Season Trip - Day 2

Day 2 - Sept. 16, 2019 - The Bustards to The French River

The best laid plans of mice. Well, despite the ridiculously benign conditions of yesterday, things always change, don’t they?

We got up today with the intention of taking a tin-boat ride around the waterways of the Bustards and then taking the oceanic highway over to Odjig Island (formerly the unfortunately named Squaw Island. I only mention it because the name has only recently been changed, and if you’re following us on a map, you might be confused. There we were going to anchor in Frog Bay, now called Frenchman’s Cove. Kidding, there is no Frog Bay.) 

The tin boat that we haul behind us (a fourteen-foot runabout with a 15 hp Johnson on the back. No relation to Brooke) was a good ride as we explored Wicks Channel. It is a long, straight passage leading to the windward side of the islands and we followed along as best as possible checking out the sights. On the way back we were crossed off the bow by a large black bear, swimming on its way to forage. How bears got out here in the first place is a mystery to me as the Bustards are a good four or five miles off the mainland. Could a mating pair have swum this far out?

Brooke at the helm of the tin boat

Then we wayed anchor and headed off from the islands with the intention of motoring across the 25 miles to Odjig, thinking that the low winds would offer easy passage. This was not the case as, once we had passed the head of the barrier islands, we were met with 3 to 4-foot swells that would have made the 2-hour trip very unpleasant. Where these swells could have originated with so little wind, who knows?

So instead, we headed to the French River and made our way to McDougal Bay where we have anchored for the night. Hopefully, the promise of an even calmer day tomorrow will enable us to resume our quest for the North Channel. 

Exploring The French River

It was extremely harrowing and upsetting, Mister Hattie had to get up twice for treats, but a dinner of dry-rub ribs and avocado and tomato salad had us back in high spirits. That and half the rum supply. We also went a bit further up the French in the tin-boat as far as the Dallas Rapids. 

Ship's cat, Mister Hattie, worn out from the traveling

As it turns out, Cappie didn’t fall off the boat.

Next episode: No turning back.

End of the Season Trip - Day 1

Today marks the end of our summer. Not literally, but as it marks the beginning of our season-ending final voyage, it is that. We try to get in one last, longer voyage to some place we haven’t been before. Last year it was north of Killarney and the La Cloche mountain fjords. This year we are trying for the North Channel. Of course, there are several factors affecting the eventual success of that notion, the major one being weather. But other things like work and such are factors. Fortunately, competition is fierce in my line of work. Hopefully, one of those other bastards will beat me out for jobs I have recently auditioned for. Priorities, you know. Anyway, I’m a going to attempt to log this trip and you can travel along with us, on the good ship Mary Mary, as we ply our way north and west. 

The Crew - Day of departure

 Day 1 – Sept. 15, 2019 Wright's Marina, Britt to The Bustard Islands

The first day is always full of work as we get the ship ready for long-term travel. We’re not the Endeavour to be sure, but we do have a cat on board and apart from that there’s just the two of us. Mister Hattie, head mouser, has had no work really as we have no mice. But we had to provision and do other tasks like filling the water tanks, pumping out the waste tanks, fuelling up and making sure we had enough alcohol on board. As you can imagine, the latter task was the most taxing. We had to hire some men for that. Healthy young stevedores that tend to gather on the piers and busk for work. One of them quit when he realized the intensity of the job.

Anyhow, along about 1330 hours we headed off up Byng Inlet, on route to The Bustard Islands. The weather is benign, with no wind to speak of and the often-tempestuous bay at rest and gently rolling us out to deep water. We don’t get out to the bigger bay very often as weather and waves can make it too problematic to attempt. We tend to stick to the Small Craft Channel, a buoyed waterway that uses the numerous islands as a shield from the environment. But today, encouraged by the soft breezes, we chanced it out on Georgian Bay. 

Out on Georgian Bay

 

It was, as I had hoped, a simple two-and-a-half-hour trip, skirting the ever-dangerous and perilous rocks and outcrops that have lured many a pleasure-boater to their doom. (Not really, but you do have to watch out.) Then we ducked into what I am calling the Northeast Channel cove in The Bustards and anchored in about 23 feet of water, tucked behind a small island.

The anchorage - The Bustards

We have been pretty much alone since then except for a brief incursion by an O.P.P. patrol boat that came in the narrow channel, heaving up a huge wake that made us rock and roll. Smiling, the officer asked us how long we were staying. We gave a vague answer and he was on his way. Brooke speculated that the reason the boat was there at all was because of the equally svelte female officer that was seated beside him. I guess they had to hove-to somewhere else.

The evening is grand with a fine sunset peering through a gap in the islands and we had cedar-planked salmon with asparagus for dinner, cooked on the portable BBQ. So far so good. Tomorrow promises more of the same and we may motor on further than usual as it is so hospitable. 

Planked Salmon on the barbie

Next episode: Cappie falls off the boat. Knock on wood.