Index

Lake Ontario, Canada
Lakes Erie and Huron
Georgian Bay
Back to the USA
Lake Michigan
Chicago
Crossing the Rockies
Washington

Lake Ontario, Canada

Crossing Lake Ontario from Oswego to Kingston was a memorable day. It began with a slight fog but the wind slowly woke up, clearing the sky and gaining strength until we were sailing comfortably at six knots. As we neared Duck Island, about half way across, we spotted a two-masted ship with a square-rigged fore mast. It was making surprisingly good progress closer on the wind than us until we were close enough to try to photograph it. Then we noticed the approaching thunderstorm. Maybe the other ship did too as it changed course away from the dark clouds. We triple reefed the mainsail and took away the genoa before being battered with 60 knot gusts and heavy rain for half an hour as the storm thundered and flashed overhead. It then disappeared leaving us sunshine and a light wind to complete our journey.

We approached the Olympic Harbour, Kingston around six o’clock on Friday 6th July. Our American phone would not work so we tried the VHF. We could hear other marinas being hailed but there was no response from the Olympic. Eventually we found the way in and tied alongside the nearest dock. The young man in the office showed us where we could contact Customs but otherwise took little interest. Two Customs officers visited us within the half hour to stamp our passports. We were now cleared into Canada.

The 7th was a lovely sunny morning with the marina full of people going boating, yet the office was closed for the weekend! We had no money and no information about the town or where to find things. We walked up the street and although we found an ATM in a very small store where we got some bread and milk, the place was virtually dead. There was no-one to pay at the marina, so we just left. A little further along the coast we checked into the city centre marina, right next to the visitors’ information office, shops, restaurants, etc.

This was Andrew’s birthday. We took a guided tram tour round the town, visited the supermarket and did the laundry. I could watch the television weather station whilst waiting for the dryer to finish. And we ate in a classy Italian restaurant that evening as his treat.

Kingston had been central to Britain’s defence of Canada in the early 19thC The next morning we walked a couple of miles to the citadel of Fort Henry on a hill overlooking the town. This has been completely restored as it would have been in the 1860’s, complete with dozens of ‘soldiers’ in red and black uniforms – students on thir summer vacation. They marched about the fort, performed a gun firing exercise at midday, led guided tours showing how life was for them, and performed drills and displays. They even dressed up some of the small children who were visiting, and tried to get them to march and charge with wooden rifles! The fort was well displayed and informative. We caught a bus back to town in the afternoon and found a lovely coffee shop with free wifi access.

After three days in lovely Kingston we set out to the Thousand Islands. This is a major holiday resort for boaters where Lake Ontario enters the St Lawrence river. Here the waters are peppered with rocky outcrops, salmon pink, grey and green (from the lichen), with fir trees on the top. Some of the rocks are tall and sheer, and some like a pile tipped out of a truck. If big enough for a house or cabin it would probably have one, though some islands were deliberately left to nature, under the watchful eye of a park warden. A fair proportion of the islands belong to Canada’s parks and can be visited by us boaters. Small docks are provided here and there, complete with picnic tables, and a few areas have mooring buoys. Unfortunately for us, most were put in too shallow and with difficulty we searched for suitable places to anchor. Under the water the land rises and falls very steeply, hence the pinnacles rising above the water forming the islands. It was lovely to be able to swim in the fresh water and walk a few short trails on the islands.

We went as far down the St Lawrence as the island of Adelaide and watched a really spectacular twisting cloud formation prior to a thunderstorm. Having seen it coming, we managed to anchor in good time before the rain. In the morning, another yacht was not so fortunate and tried anchoring in the fullness of the storm. He dragged to within a few feet of our yacht and then spent the rest of the storm motoring in circles. In another three days we were back in Kingston where we could catch up on the internet.

From Kingston we headed eastwards, For the first 80 miles, instead of going back into Lake Ontario we took a sheltered route inland through the Bay of Quinte and the Murray Canal. It was very pastoral. The canal was the nearest thing to those we have traveled in Holland, being narrow and with two swing bridges opening on demand. A five-dollar fee was collected in a bag on a stick as we went through the second bridge. We encountered very weedy water with only a few inches below our keel as we left the canal, where it entered a shallow bay on the edge of Lake Ontario. But it was well buoyed and we moored at Brighton, a mile from the canal. There were many white swans around.

After some torrential rain, we went back out into Lake Ontario from Brighton, rounding a headland covered with round shaped trees, like a collection of different shades of green, woolly pom-poms, squashed together and touching the edge of the water. We sailed in light winds and then motored to our next stop, Port Coburg.

Port Coburg marina had no vacant slips for a yacht our size but it was possible to anchor in the outer harbour. As we went out to dinner, the local dragon boats were practicing the racing skills using Sentinel as a turning mark. The last of the thunderstorms had gone through and the next day promised to be fine but breezy. The bonus was that the wind was out of the north and gave us a wonderful fast sail almost to Toronto. We spent the night as guests at the Bluff Park Yacht Club just eight miles from Toronto harbour. We had a pleasant time talking with the members there.

So Saturday 21st July we drifted into Toronto harbour, exploring around it before mooring in the Alexandra Yacht Club. John and Linda McFetrick had recommended their club to us, when we met them in Kingston and later in the Thousand Islands. This lovely couple kept in touch and gave us a great evening at their house when they returned to home. Ingrid met us as we arrived at the club, allocated us a space and encouraged us to cook on their bar-b-que. This was a great idea as we then met several of the members. The club is a reasonably small, self-help club with everything they need to cook and socialize both indoors and outside, and everyone helps when it is haul-out or re-launching time. We were made very welcome and met some nice people. After two days free of charge we were required to leave but, as suggested by Ingrid, we arranged a stay of 12 days just next door in the National Yacht Club. From here, the waterfront attractions, the CN Tower (the world's tallest building) and car rental were all within walking distance, but there was also a handy tram that linked with the subway.

Whilst in Toronto we managed to get our new laptop repaired under warranty, the anchor and chain re-galvanized, our propane bottles refilled, and received a 110volt immersion heater we ordered from England. But the three local jobs were not completed without a lot of pushing and arguing. We found that only one bank would allow us to get cash on our visa card. We could not use our credit card to add credit to our cell phone and in some shops we could only use the credit card if we had ID, in other words, our passports, with us. Driving around Toronto was a bit of a nightmare with unusual rules of the road such as not being able to turn at certain junctions at certain times of the day, and trams to avoid. I was loudly hooted at once and cautioned by the police once, but otherwise we survived with Andrew navigating and me driving.

Of the attractions in Toronto, we visited the recently re-opened Royal Ontario Museum. The facade of the new building is faceted like a crystal, and the building inside has odd angles everywhere, which will call for inspired planning when they rearrange the museum's treasures. Because it was so new, only half the museum was available to view, and apart from the pretty paperweights we found it rather disappointing. We also had an evening at the ‘Medieval Tymes’ castle. This was one of those events where the audience dined around a large arena and watched well schooled horses performing, a falcon flying, jousting and hand to hand combat, with a loose storyline involving knightly valour, treachery, and the princess's hand in marriage. Corny perhaps, but well done and we did enjoy it.

We spent the weekend with Andrew’s step-son Ben, his wife Caroline and Chloe, their four week old daughter. A heat wave began when we reached Toronto and the weekend temperatures were in the thirties. It was good to be able to cool off in their pool. We had a lovely time in and around their old farmhouse situated by a wooded valley half way between Toronto and Georgian Bay. We also visited the Greek Town area of Toronto with them for an evening meal, and had an interesting afternoon tour round the astrophysics department in York University where Ben works.

The beginning of August was a holiday weekend and we sailed to Hamilton at the Western extremity of Lake Ontario. Here we spent a few days at the Royal Hamilton Yacht Club, where

we met Marilyn and Darvin who we had first met in North Carolina. Darvin had agreed to help us through the Welland Canal. We had a wonderful day with them at Niagara Falls and Niagara-on-the-Lake. Right up close under the falls on The Maid of The Mist was an awesome experience. A thick green line could be seen at the top where the water fell over the edge, and then it frothed and sprayed and thundered on the rocks below. There was so much energy that the spray went up into the sky twice the height of the falls. On the boat there would be the occasional blast of cold wind and spray. Everyone wore their free blue plastic hooded capes but my sandals got sodden. This must be the best way to fully appreciate the magnificence of the falls.

Marsha Cutting came to visit us. We had met her when she visited England in 2001 wanting to gain some sea sailing experience, and we had taken her from Dover to Calais and Gravelines. She subsequently bought a 26 foot yacht in Boston, Massachusetts. But she has now moved to near Hamilton, so during her summer holidays she has been sailing the yacht in stages single handed around to Lake Ontario, via Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island and Quebec where it had been recently laid up. She said she would also like to help us through the Welland Canal, to gain experience of what the locks in the St Lawrence Seaway would be like.

Early on Wed 8th August we sailed into the entrance to the Welland Canal with Darvin and Marsha, and so left Lake Ontario. The story of our passage through this, one of the largest ship canals in the world, is told elsewhere. We arrived at Sugarloaf Marina in Lake Erie at the end of the canal about seven in the evening. It had been an exhausting day but a great experience. At nine, Marilyn arrived to take Darvin and Marsha away after hugs and taking of photos and we were on our own again.

Lakes Erie and Huron

It was not long before we were off down Lake Erie. The first night we anchored off Long Point and then sailed through the second night arriving in Leamington Marina during the morning. We had the best reception here for a long time where both the telephone call and VHF were answered immediately with helpful staff. There were flower baskets and gardens all around making it very beautiful. Here we met an English couple from Plymouth who had left there yacht on the hard at Kingston, Lake Ontario, for the winter. They were spending the summer months in England and the winters sailing in the sunshine. They were headed for the Caribbean.

Early in the morning we sailed to the end of Lake Erie and part way up the Detroit River to Windsor so that we could visit the Ford museum in Detroit over the river. Arriving in the evening we found a good anchorage just opposite the marina where we also found a good Internet connection. In the morning we went to the marina’s fuel dock and filled up and booked in for a night, but we could only tie up to the inside of the outer wall where we needed the ladder placed outside of our fenders to keep us off the pilings. It was a long walk to get anywhere, there was no internet connection and it was the most expensive marina we had encountered for a long while. I walked around and made some enquiries and found that although the small marina next door did not have enough water for us, the manager thought the Windsor Yacht Club did and gave me the telephone number and name of their dock master. Before long I had a refund from the marina and we were nicely tied up at the guest dock in the yacht club. We stayed for two nights at half price and ate in the large restaurant in the clubhouse. The club had requested a Royal Charter and was certainly looking the part.

We rented a car for a day and drove over the bridge into the US. Everyone was stopped at the Customs post to show their ID. We produced our passports and were pulled over to wait in a queue to be seen by the Customs/Immigration. Eventually we realised that if we had produced the white ‘I94’ cards that we had been given when we entered the USA at Key West, we would have been able to continue unhindered. These cards entitled us to be in the States for six months from the date of issue, 8th of March, so we could come and go any time (though confusingly it says on them they must be surrendered on leaving the US).

We arrived at the Ford Museum at ten and by five, when they closed, managed to get round most of the museum and the Greenfield Village. The museum houses an enormous collection of trains, horse drawn vehicles, bicycles, motor vehicles, aeroplanes, and included the first steam train in the US complete with carriages looking like they had just been removed from the horses and had the wheels changed. There was the first US built train, the DeWitt Clinton, and the largest steam locomotive ever built, the Allegheny #1601. There was a replica of the Wright brothers’ first aeroplane, the Spirit of St Louis, the car in which Kennedy was shot, fantasy cars, rock star cars, a ten-seater bicycle, and much more. Apart from the transport there were other sections of collections such as furniture, dolls houses, clocks, etc.

One that caught our eyes was a futuristic house from the 1920's dreamed up by Buckminster Fuller. The round house was hung from a central core, was portable like a tent, was self-cleaning and was energy efficient. Although a family lived in one for forty years, the idea obviously did not catch on as the example in the museum was built from the only two that had been produced. In an area showing the use of different types of power, was the world's oldest surviving engine,'Fairbottom Bobs', built by Newcomen in 1760, which had been brought from England and reconstructed with its stone walls.

Greenfield Village was built to reflect an era around 1880. Ford had collected buildings from the region and reconstructed them in the village. They include the homes of many eminent people, including the Wright brothers and Thomas Edison. There are early school houses, log cabins, quaint shops, churches, slave quarters, taverns, all brought alive by people in period costume. There was a barber-shop quartette on a street corner, someone riding a penny farthing, old Model-T Ford cars driving around the roads, a steam engine taking people for a ride, smoking and blowing its horn as it circled the village. How I love that smell and sound – I wonder why? We could have spent a whole day just in the village spending more time poking around the houses and listening to what the people had to say in each house.

On our return to Windsor we made good use of the car getting our propane bottle refilled as it had become empty that morning, getting in a few more groceries, cans of beer and cider, and refuelling the car ready for its return. It was a very good day.

After returning the rented car we set out across Lake St Clair under sail and then entered the St Clair River. The entrance has the curious feature that the USA is on the north shore of the river and Canada on the south - the only place where that happens. The border is along the length of thye river. As we progressed up the current grew stronger until we had to motor as we began to go backwards under sail alone. Keeping to the Canadian side, we spent the night in a marina in Sarnia. It was the most expensive marina we had encountered for months and didn't even have a free wifi connection, but the people around us were extremely friendly which made up for it. One guy gave us a lift to the supermarket and back, and another, who was preparing for his extended retirement cruise, gave us his charts of Lake Huron and Georgian Bay with some excellent pointers for our route. He said he was heading for the sun and would not be back that way.

At this point we realised that our I94 cards would run out about the time we expected to cross the border from Canada to the US and enter Lake Michigan. As far as we could tell, there were no Customs posts in that area that could issue a new card. lthough there may be telephones linked to Customs, there was nowhere in the area where we could get new cards. When we called US Customs about this, they suggested we cross the river from Sarnia to Port Huron where there was a customs post.

The Port Huron Yacht Club, just off the St Clair River, had an easy guest mooring on the edge of the river that ran through the town. It was a Saturday, a big race was on and the club was deserted. The Customs post in Port Huron apparently closed at weekends leaving an answer machine. It looked like we were going to be illegal immigrants until Monday, when a local guy asked if he could help. He managed to somehow contact Customs who suggested that he take us an international bridge that spans the St Clair River to the north of Port Huron. This he did and before too long we had our new I94 and a taxi back to town. Why is it so much harder to try to obey the law than ignore it? There were huge queues of people on the bridge waiting to get through the Customs post, all no doubt perfectly innocent, as if you were not innocent, you only had to hop across the river on a private boat.

Port Huron seemed to have closed down for the weekend, but at least we had a good wifi connection. The following morning was very wet so we stayed on. We met and talked to several of the yacht club members, and to Chuck and Bonni, the other visitors, in their yacht Star Gazer. They had recently started their retirement cruising, aiming for Oriental, North Carolina, having just married in June. We had a couple of very pleasant evenings with them before we eventually left on Tuesday morning to cross Lake Huron.

We arrived in Tobermory, on the Bruce peninsular where Lake Huron becomes Georgian Bay, on Wednesday 22nd August. The weather had been grey the entire time but we were able to sail quite comfortably. There was a threat of some nasty stormy weather for Thursday, so we expected to be staying put for at least a day.

We wanted to see Ben and Caroline again and to save them two long journeys in one day with little Chloe, we decided to rent a car and drive to them. It took us a while to realise that the nearest car rental company was an hour and a half drive away and that there was no public transport. Fortunately Discount Rentals eventually answered the phone, found a driver and came to pick us up. We came directly back to the rental company, in Owen Sound, from Ben’s and got a lift back to Tobermory. We had a very enjoyable and relaxed time and hoped that it would not be too long before we next met.

Georgian Bay

Our journey to Lake Michigan was to the west. So we did not venture any further east across Georgian Bay but instead went north to the port of Killarney, and thence west through the North Channel of Lake Huron. This was a fantastic area of rocks and trees. Most of the rocks were white quartz and stood out clearly between the trees. It was amazing how some of the trees managed to cling onto the bare rocks. Mostly the rocks rose sheer out of the water and many of our passages were so close we could almost touch the rocks. There were many shallows and rocks just poking out of the water and we had to watch the charts closely.

In Killarney Bay we met Everett, a Canadian who regularly spends his summers sailing this rocky area. He gave us some more ideas of places we could see and in the afternoon we set off in roughly the same direction but to different destinations. We came into a long narrow stretch of water rather like a fjord, called Baie Fine and visited the topaz lake by foot in the morning. The topaz lake was a twenty-minute hike up through the forest. It was a beautiful lake but not very blue that morning as it drizzled most of the time. Then we sailed past Strawberry Island and its pretty lighthouse, to Little Current. In the morning we sailed to the Benjamin Islands and made our way into a sheltered anchorage for lunch.

Here the rocks were mostly smooth rounded pink boulders, with the occasional white quartz here and there. I have never seen rocks like them before. The boulders at the Baths, Virgin Islands, were smooth and rounded, but grey. The bright pink colour was even more noticeable where the level of the lake had dropped exposing an extra foot or more of clean rock. It was very cloudy and damp and we eventually left in the rain and made our way to a beautiful sheltered spot through a narrow gap into a small lake, totally alone and with the sun coming out. We were quite surprised just how quiet it was with no sounds of wild life.

The next morning we made our way through an extremely narrow gap in the rocks, called Little Detroit, where, as advised, we announced on channel 16 that we were entering the gap in case there was someone wanting to come the other way. We anchored as near to the town of Spanish as we could get and took the inflatable with the outboard for more than a mile, past the municipal marina to another dock nearer to the town. It was a twenty-minute walk up to the highway, the railway line and the town. Here we enjoyed some fish and chips and managed to restock on meat, vegetables and some other fresh foods. Most of the islands are uninhabited. Coming back to the yacht was a pretty wet experience through a nasty little chop set up by wind over current. Our next anchorage for the night was eight miles to the west, into the wind. We had all the rest of the afternoon to achieve it and had a cracking good sail, tacking about eight times.

The wind was not favourable in the morning as we made our way motoring through a buoyed channel. We needed to go a little further west round another island before heading more south and sailing across fifteen miles of open water. But then I took more notice of a small yacht that had been closing on us from the north. I got out the binoculars and saw that it was Everett. We went together into an anchorage in the adjacent island and had lunch together, catching up on where we had been. We came out and raced each other for the first few miles before going our separate ways again. This time he must have let us get in the lead.

Looking at the charts in the morning, we decided to head for Drummond, on Drummond Island, which is in the USA. We had such a good following wind that we made excellent time and arrived at the marina in mid afternoon on 1st September. Customs came down to the dock as we arrived. Everything was going well until they said we could not enter without a customs decal and we replied we did not need it - in fact a British boat is not eligible for the decal programme which facilitates the movement of US and Canadian yachts. Fortunately we persuaded one of the officers to telephone a superior and confirm that we were correct. It is not the first time we have found customs officers ignorant of their own rules, but as they have absolute powers generally we just have to go with the flow.

Back to the USA

We stayed in Drummond for a day. Al and Jane, who had arrived in their yacht just ahead of us, were renting a car for the afternoon to see the island, and offered to take us along. The island was mainly wooded with roads petering out into tracks. There were camping grounds for the ‘get away from it all’ holidaymakers. There were also some private homes built amongst the trees with views and access over the water. What a restful, scenic place to have a holiday home! Somewhat unsure of exactly where he was going, Al found the home of an old friend and found her in residence, so we saw at first hand how attractive these places are with the land drifting from the trees to sandy scrub and rocks in the water’s shallows. I thought this island was the nearest thing to ‘outback’ I had seen, but Andrew said I hadn’t begun to see ‘outback’ until I had been a good deal further north in Canada.

Around this area where there are plenty of trees and rocks, the people have a special way to build a harbour wall or pontoon. First drive in two rows of wooden pilings and weave thin trunks or branches along them forming two wooden walls. Fill the space with rocks and place a boardwalk across the top.

The next day the wind was still against us so we decided on a modest target, Government Bay, about 25 miles to the west. After logging 50 miles of tacking and still 6 miles from our destination, we motored across the rest of the wind swept Lake Huron and at last into the peaceful anchorage. In the morning it was grey and wet and we motored 15 miles on to Mackinac Island, arriving in a thunderstorm with torrential rain. We agreed to stay an extra day to see the island’s charms in the sunshine.

The island has been a popular holiday resort for 150 years. In 1903 motor cars were banned, and so the main source of transport today is horse drawn carriages. It is even possible to rent a "Surrey with a Fringe on Top", for self-drive. In the little village of shiplap houses we felt transported back a hundred years. Dominating the bluff overlooking the harbour, was Fort Mackinac. It was built by the British in the US War of Independence, and recaptured again in the war of 1812, being returned to the US both times by treaty. After it was decomissioned in 1895 the island became a national park, the second in the USA. It was fascinating to wander around the old barracks, restored as they would have looked in the 1860's. The two ‘soldiers’ who were manning the fort worked hard firing cannon and rifles, blowing bugles and playing fife and drum.

Later that day we witnessed some of the problems with equine transport. Two horses were slowly pulling a carriage laden with tourists up a hill, when one slipped and its hind legs collapsed before it regained its feet. The driver acted quickly to ensure the carriage was not upset. Then, while sitting in a café, I saw two horses break free from a carriage at the same point on the hill. The horses, still joined together, galloped across the grassy park and then along the road towards us, before turning up a short drive and being caught. I saw the carriage turn a little on the hill but do not know if anyone was hurt.

Beyond Mackinac Island lies the famous suspension bridge over the Mackinac Straits, and Lake Michigan. The following day’s weather forecast looked good as long as we reached a sheltered harbour before nightfall, when the winds were forecast to increase to gale force. We motor sailed out, just holding the mainsail hard on the wind, until we were through the bridge. The wind blew harder and the choppy seas kept stopping Sentinel dead, so that we did not think we would make our destination before nightfall. We wimped out and retreated to St Ignace marina, situated off the northern end of the bridge, still in Lake Huron. At least it was a good cheap marina with the benefits of wifi and a laundry. Lake Michigan would have to wait another day.

Lake Michigan

It did not take long to explore the pleasant village of St Ignace. It was the site of the first French settlement in the upper Great Lakes, and I really enjoyed the little museum attached to a kind of antique shop, as it had a lot of Indian artifacts and much about the local Indian tribes and the early French mission.

The next morning, 8th September, was very calm and sunny and we again headed for Lake Michigan, motoring under the bridge, but this time at twice the speed as the water was calm. We motored all day and into the night, southwards down the east side of the lake. By midnight the wind picked up and we managed to sail at 3-4 knots. The weather forecast was now suggesting that the winds would become strong that afternoon with big waves. Also, strong southwesterly winds were likely to continue for several days. We decided it would be best if we crossed the lake at this point to the western side. We would have around fifty miles to reach harbour on the other side, and could make it by mid afternoon. So we went for it. By midday the wind was already strong and we were able to sail towards our destination making good speed, arriving at Kewaunee marina at four in the afternoon. Well, actually it was three, as the clocks were an hour different in Wisconsin.

There was not much to see or do, although we did see two other Bruce Roberts yachts on the hard at the marina. The forecast for the next day still made the winds favourable, at least for the morning, so we decided to go south to Sheboygan, where we could meet Chris Rocks, a guy Andrew had been corresponding with on the Internet. Apart from there being drizzly rain all day, it was an excellent, fast sail and we arrived at the marina at eight in the evening. It was good to meet up with Chris the next day and move from the expensive marina to the friendly yacht club where we were introduced to Jim Kennedy. Wednesday evening we piled onto Jim’s Laser 28 Yikes with three other guys for the last race of the season, and had a great time with a good result. One of Jim's crew was Joseph who was interested in looking over our yacht and spending some time with us. The following day he took Andrew off to a shop where he rented a pipe wrench and managed to get the old immersion heater out of the water tank for us. At last we could put in the new 110 volt immersion heater and have hot water!

After five days it was time to leave. The winds were still nearly at gale force, but blowing offshore so we thought we could cope with it. We were the only boat out. Our next stop was at Port Washington where we had to drop the anchor right in the harbour entrance as the engine overheated. The hosepipe from the engine to the hot water tank had leaked all the cooling water from the engine. We taped it up and tied alongside a dock so high we had to strap our ladder to its side to climb out of the yacht. The next day we sailed to Milwaukee telephoning a marina to locate where we might be able to purchase a new hose. We found the place centrally situated just through the bridge from the outer harbour. We were allowed to tie up here only long enough to purchase the hose and fit it. Before we left, a guy named John came to chat to us, seeing that we had come from England. He suggested that we go to the South Shore Yacht Club and get a dock space there.

By the time we got to the yacht club, John was there to greet us along with the dock master. While mooring up, some more people came along who said they had seen us down town and were interested in our travels. So we retreated to the club bar for a pleasant evening with them and meeting a few other members of the club. The weather forecast for the next day was still reasonable but there were to be strong southerly winds for the days following, which would prevent us making any further progress south. So next morning we set out again. By early evening we entered the Kenosha river leading up to Kenosha Yacht Club. Another yacht was just mooring alongside the wall but the club looked shut down. Craig and Mark helped us with our lines and then we all went out to dinner. They had only come into Kenosha for dinner and then were off to Winthrop Harbour where they kept the yacht, just six miles down the coast.

During the night the wind blew up and waves kept surging up the river causing us to slew back and forth, up and down against the wood clad wall harbour wall. The ropes kept on snatching. The corner of a dodger was caught by a mooring line breaking the cord holding it in place, and shards of wood were being torn off the wall. At three in the morning, unable to sleep and worried about damage, we anchored in the middle of the river. First thing next morning, as it was still blowing very strong from the south we thought it would be best to move to the nearby marina. We had to go back out into Lake Michigan and around the outer wall of the marina, where the entrance faced south. The seas were very rough in the narrow entrance with the breaking waves. As we approached, we realised how shallow the entrance was. Our situation was very dangerous. We were facing rocks dead ahead and had to make a sharp right-hand turn to enter the marina. There was little room to spare and as I turned a wave broke under us and we broached way out of control. I heard the prop rev as it came out of the water and Sentinel went right over on her side. I do not know if we hit the bottom. It all happened very quickly and then we were through the entrance into calm water and safe. I was the most scared I have been on this voyage.

Kenosha, our last stop in Wisconsin, was a town of contrasts. There were older streets here and there, but a vast area along the waterfront was being redeveloped with new condominiums and gardens. The public museum, right by the marina, had some lovely Chinese carved ivory.

Chicago

On Wednesday 19th September we rose early with good weather to sail the forty miles to Chicago. We could see the tops of the skyscrapers almost from the start, and gradually more of the downtown came into view. It was dusk when we reached the harbour, and then we wondered what to do. We had heard that the marinas were very expensive, and many didn't accept visitors. Before us was Monroe Harbour, with thousands and thousands of yachts on moorings, right in the heart of downtown Chicago, and so it was not long before we joined them, just as we had done in New York. There's more about our stay in Chicago .

Crossing the Rockies

By Chicago we had reached the end of line in the Great Lakes, as far as we could reach by sailing. It would have been possible to continue down the Mississippi from here, but instead we decided to have Sentinel transported 1,700 miles across the USA so that we could revisit the north-west coast. A sparkling sail 30 miles back north took us to Winthrop Harbour, where the yacht was lifted out on 1st October. The hull was covered with small barnacles which were not readily dislodged by the high pressure hose but we helped by scraping them off with a shovel. Oddly, there was a large patch where the paint had peeled right off back to bare metal.

The mast was removed and laid on three supports by the yacht, where we stripped off all the rigging. The fragile furling gear with the forestay inside was laid on the ground beside the mast. In the middle of the night, a gale blew up and the wind was so strong that the mast and supports were blown over with a mighty crash. Sentinel shook but fortunately stayed upright, though it might have been different had the mast still been up. In the pelting rain we inspected the damage and considered we were very lucky. The mast had blown right over the furling gear, missing it. Just one upper mast step was broken where it hit the ground and hopefully it can be welded back together.

The truck turned up two days late, just as were wondering if it would ever show, It took all afternoon on Friday 5th October to load Sentinel and strap her down for her trip over the Rockies to the little fishing port of Anacortes, mid way between Seattle and Vancouver. But what about us? We would have liked to travel with Sentinel, but that isn't permitted.

It seemed like an opportunity to see something of the country, so we were reluctant to fly. We were discussing our dilemma with a taxi-driver in Winthrop Harbour when he mentioned that there was a good train between Chicago and Seattle. So the next day saw us returning to Chicago, from where we caught the Empire Builder Express for the two day trip to Seattle. We had a tiny but very comfortable two-seater cabin to ourselves that converted to two bunks at night. The food was thrown in, and remarkably good. It was an empty, open landscape through the American West of North Dakota and Montana with the famous 'big skies' caused by the clarity of light in the high plains. We just reached the Rockies by the second night on board and marvelled at the snow covered mountain scenery.

A surprising number of the people we talked to were making a holiday of the trip and would be going back on the train in a few days time. That way they would see the things we had missed at night on the westward journey. The question to us seems inevitable. We are going to have lapel buttons made: "We may be English but we neither know nor care about the private lves of the Royal Family."

There had been a heatwave in Chicago, with a temperature on 32°C on the day we left, way above normal. As we left the train, Seattle was a mere 10°C and overcast. So finally, after nearly three years, we have returned to the cold.

Washington

We spent a day in Seattle, visited the futuristic science fiction museum, rode the monorail, and viewed the old town underground. On October 11th we caught the bus 50 miles north to Anacortes, where Sentinel was due to arrive next day. There was an alarm when zebra mussels were found on the hull, but in due course this was sorted, as is reported elsewhere.

We had planned a refit before relaunching. So it was a nasty surprise to discover the yard would not allow us to repaint or antifoul the yacht. They claimed some environmental regulation prohibited it, but I suspect they simply wanted the work themselves. When they quoted a price, repainting and antifouling came off the agenda, at least for the time being. The engine had been running unevenly so we had a number of bits and pieces sorted, and also some fixes to the rigging though they couldn't repair the mast step that had broken in the fall. But it still holds my weight so, with a little wiring for extra security, we shall leave it be. Then everything was put back together and we were back in the water on 1st November.

As soon as started the engine we found that forward gear was not engaging. It was soon obvious that the problem was in the transmission. Out went any thoughts of a late-season sail to Vancouver. We have found that USA boat repairers are very much slower than we are used to in Europe. It took a week simply to find what parts would need to be ordered.

So we rented a car instead and went to Williams Lake in central British Columbia, where Andrew’s cousin Penny now lives. Just a few inches on the map, but four hundred miles of winding narrow roads that took us eleven hours. It rained all day but we saw some exciting views of cloud streaked mountains, deep gorges, rivers and lakes. At one point we passed Whistler, where the next winter Olympic Games will be held. Just before dark we decided to take a short cut that seemed to cut 30 miles off the route. The first part was a muddy track which wound slowly up to the top of a mountain where the rain turned to snow and the fir trees looked very Christmassy covered in white. Then it was a precipitous switch-back decent, slithering down the snow, with nothing to stop us going over the edge. Bad enough for a 4-wheel drive, but we were in a little family car without even all-weather tyres. Were we relieved when we reached the bottom of the snowy track and then back onto a paved road! But the memory of the pretty sights stays longer than the fear.

While in Williams Lake, we drove out into the Cariboo Grasslands. This was quite different scenery from the fir clad mountains of the previous day. Where the River Frazer cut through the landscape, the hills looked like they were made of soft sandy soil, eroded by wind and rain to leave spiky towers ("hoodoos") above the shale. Sage scrub dotted the slopes. Once again we were on mud tracks, with many logging trucks careering along it. We passed two cowboys on horseback herding a dozen cows. Among the healthy firs were a large number of brown, dead trees that are victims of the pine beetle that is causing havoc in this area of Canada. We continued upwards until we were once again in inches of snow. This time we felt it would be prudent to turn around before it started to freeze. It had been a beautifully sunny day that day.

That evening we visited Penny's daughter Elizabeth and husband Dave in their log cabin overlooking the lake. It was a magnificent house with all the walls and the ceiling beams made from huge, whole tree trunks, and looked very cosy for a cold winter. Next day we drove Penny down to Vancouver, along the Frazer canyon. This was a faster route than the one we had followed outwards, and gave us different dramatic views. There is a railway following the river on both sides, as well as the major road, that in one short stretch passes through seven tunnels in the rock. In Vancouver we met Penny’s other daughter, Louise, and husband Larry.

The following day we had dinner with Jud and Leah, a couple with whom Andrew had corresponded on an internet sailing forum. It was Judd who put us onto the Minipaw dinghy that we built in England. They have a steel yacht Sputnik which they are doing up with a hope of making the great escape in 2009.

Back at Anacortes, the repaired transmission was finally returned to us after two weeks. After fitting it back in place and with a few adjustments on November 12th we were able to make our journey to Sidney on Vancouver Island, Canada. There was sufficient breeze to sail much of the way, and by making two short hops, we traveled during the warmest part of the day and enjoyed our trip. The San Juan Islands through which we passed were rich in wildlife, including sealions and Dill's dolphins. Sentinel was tied up in our pre-booked berth in Sidney marina and we settled into our new environment.

After a few days we had a warm sunny day and thought we would sail out to Sidney Spit for lunch. We slowly drove the yacht out of the berth and moved the gear lever forward but could not engage forward gear. As the call for forward motion grew more intense and the engine revved, the gear lever was thrust back and forward, we realized that once more the transmission had failed. We drifted about until we could throw a line ashore and get back in our berth. The repair guy was very apologetic and has promised to send a new transmission at no extra cost when we return from our winter break, even though they are in America and we are in Canada. We'll see.

Sidney is a pretty little tourist town, with the main airport and ferry port for Vancouver Island, which could supply our needs. The island capital, Victoria, is just an hour’s bus ride away. I think the Christmas decorations in Sidney are better than those in Victoria, and nearly all the shop fronts are decorated with window displays and snow scenes painted on the glass. One early evening we joined the crowds to watch a Christmas carnival procession of floats and decorated vehicles and candies thrown to the children. Then it was a saunter down to the water’s edge to watch around a dozen yachts and motor boats parade past decorated with various displays of Christmas lights, some moving mechanically and some by hand, as good as any on house fronts. It was a wonderful introduction to Christmas. Another day we went to the world-famous Butchart Gardens where the entire gardens were decorated in lights and displays depicting the Twelve Days of Christmas. As we wound our way along the paths, people were singing the song and working out what the next display would be. It enthralled both adults and children alike. Other attractions there were an ice rink with Santa on his blades, and entertainment by carol singers and a brass band. I was really glad we went, especially as we had no trouble with the buses there and back.

The cold weather means all the liveaboards stay indoors and so we don't socialise as easily as usual. Even so, we were invited on one boat one evening, and then someone organized a get-together in a lounge area in the marina building, where about a dozen couples brought food and drink and had a very pleasant evening. On December 10th it was time for us to fly back to England for Christmas and meet up with all our family and friends. So this is the end of my 2007 blog.