Boreas is a sailboat again, almost

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  We both fretted about stepping the mast. We thought we might have the option of hiring someone, but no such luck. So we searched the internet for suggestions. The marina had a crane, but we had to figure out how to hook the mast, lift it without harm to us or the boat and then detach the crane,  

 named giraffe.

 
I found this great knot and article. 

Then I researched a rolling hitch on Grog’s knots and came up with Ashley’s variation, knot 1734. 

  
This kept the mast knot from slipping up the mast as it was raised. 

All went well until we couldn’t undo the knot ( because we strayed from internet suggestions and tied it above our radar and spreaders and couldn’t slide it down).

We attracted spectators including one who provided helpful suggestions. We tried tilting the boat to the bulkhead but ultimately fixed a knife to the end of the boat hook and cut the loop.  Not elegant but only two feet of line was sacrificed.  Next time we’ll attach our improvised sling below the radar and spreaders. Then the crowd dispersed until we mistakenly hung our Canadian Maple Leaf, courtesy flag, upside down. We’ve been known to do this before. 

Tomorrow, when the wind lies (lays?) down, we’ll put the sails up and Tim will be on his way while I walk to the bus, take the bus to Longuiele, take the Metro to Montreal, a bus to Plattsburgh, walk two miles to the marina and drive an hour home.  I have to remember it took me 4 days to get here by boat. 

Here’s our evening sunset over the St. Lawrence Seaway before we had pizza delivered to the boat!

  

Friendly neighbors to the north

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Oh Canada.We spent a day and a half traveling under bridges and through ten locks to descend about 70 feet to the level of the St. Lawrence Seaway where we are docked tonight. 

We are stunned by the friendly and helpful people we have met. While we waited for a lock passage, we wandered ashore to get our hands on a phone Tom could use in Canada. Both of our phones are too old, without SIM cards, to use internationally. A car pulled over and asked us if we were lost. Tim asked the driver if he knew of  a phone store and Stephan said there were none near by, but hop in- into a fairly new BMW.

 After the briefest hesitation, we did. He drove us to two different stores, explained what we needed in French, then waited while our new phone was activated!!

Later that night, we had a small mishap and an electrical fire. Only a ground wire burned and we needed a replacement for our 12 volt charger. We asked a lockmate but he didn’t have any aboard his 50 foot  cruiser. But a father, who was cycling along the canal with two toddlers in a trailer, overheard and said, “Wait here. I live only 30 seconds away and will bring some back”. And he did and now our outlet is working again. 

Tomorrow’s tasks include trying to get the depth finder to work, although our lead line comes in handy; step the mast using a crane at the marina (I’ve been watching youtube videos); shopping; laundry; and repairing a leak or two. 

Here are some shots of our canal passage. 

   
  
 These cute buildings were at each of the locks. At several, the keepers traveled by car or foot and met us at the next lock.

The doors were opened and closed by hand cranks and the majority of lock keepers were women.

   
They packed us in very well.


   
 
In contrast to yesterday’s glorious weather, it rained all day today so I have nothing to show for today’s journey other than wet foul weather gear. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.
 

Customs

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I drove an hour to meet Tim after 7 hours of sailing. Lovely day – not.  20+ knot winds and 3-4 foot seas and drizzle. After the wind subsided he took a nap and left me to motor the upper portion of Lake Champlain, around Isle la Mott to Rouses Point and the border. 

   
 After an hour in Customs, we learned our boat’s Blue Book value is pretty low and for $380 Canadian, we imported it to Canada. There’s a slim, probably none, chance we’ll get this back when we return the boat to the States.

Few small problems at the moment. We can’t find our Topclimber, which Tim uses to go up the mast.  Not much of a problem now since the mast is lying on the deck. More importantly, our depth finder is not working. So last night we poked around with a lead line, found a decent spot and dropped anchor. Then Tim let out plenty more line because wind picked up overnight, as predicted, and we rocked and rolled for at least 4 hours. 

We must still be in the United States though because I still have internet.  But I can see the Canadian Customs house from my cockpit.

  
 

Loose ends

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Tying up and fixing things before another adventure. Tim left yesterday to begin the first leg of a multiyear journey – a big loop, north out of Lake Champlain, via the Richelieu River and canals; east on the St. Lawrence seaway, hopefully to the Sanguenay River/fiord this year. Then further east along the St Lawrence out to The Atlantic, Nova Scotia, Maine, Long Island Sound, the Hudson River and back to Lake Champlain. 

  
He will travel for a month this year and I’ll be along for parts of the ride – to help with the canal locks and will travel to and fro via Canadian public transportation and the bu-uh-uh-uh-uhuhuhuh- us. 

We’ve (Tim more than me) have been running around like chickens without our heads getting everything in order. Provisioning, customs, mast down, radar installed, dodger measurements, lost items, IT support. 

I had to repair some knitting before I was ready and plan my crochet project for the next several days. 

   
 

Smoke and mirrors

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It’s suddenly summer. We went from cool days with fog in the hollers

   
 To this

  
Lucky for me that the weather turned nice because I spent a few days in Pennsylvania camping, while I attended weaving classes with Sara Bixley and Tom Knisely at Red Stone Glen Fiber Arts Center. It was awesome. I learned so much in an Inkle Weaving and Chain Warping Class and really felt part of a weaving family. 

Here are the two inkle bands I sampled. I designed the purple one from scratch.  The pink one includes a twig from my campsite.

   

 After full days of weaving, I returned to my campsite, where I swam and walked in 90 degree temperature. I could get used to car camping. I thought I packed to excess until my neighbors arrived with tablecloths, tarps and various coolers. Where would you rather be?

Campsite 120

  
Or campsite 119?  I had espresso, popcorn and thought I was living large. 

   
 
I shipped this while I was there for a very special girl’s birthday. 

  
Now all my free time will be spent sailing and sewing a canvas “dodger” for our boat. 

Click your heels three times

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and say I want to go home. I got to say this line when I played the part Glenda, the good witch, during an elementary school play. I was revelling in my stardom just a little while ago. 

And now we’re home. A little more complicated than clicking our heels. Our return flight included some security issue in Paris and all the passengers had to deplane with their belongings so the could search the plane. The last time this happened to me was 9/4/2001. Boy how times have changed since then. 

My idea of souveniers has changed too. I have little piles of rocks, shells and feathers from around the world. Here are my newest additions.

  
The snail shells were from the scariest part of the hike at Navacelles, the smooth round rock was from near the abbey in Sommiers and the gray rock was from St. Guilhelm le desert.  Soon they will just be part of the pile. 

Then there are my jars. We had homemade quince jam in this adorable little mason jar and spicy mustard in the elegant shaped jar. I knew they were coming home with me when I saw them. They will be a great reminder. 

  
The cats liked their market baske, which will remind me of our daily shopping adventures for baguettes, pastries, irridescent strawberries and wine. 

  
I know that souvenier means to remember because our Canadian neighbors’ licence plates say, “Je me souviens”, I remember.

And today I went to work next to a much newer, albiet pretty, church on a lake. 

  
I will remember and cherish our trip to Languedoc but it’s good to be home. 

Slip (ups)?

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The rain abated and we headed out for another walk on a mountain that overlooks a manmade lake. Our first mistake was not bringing lunch and the town, Liausson, had no restaurant or market. Off we went to Octon to a creperie for a bowl of cider (lap it up) and crepes. Then back we came and headed into the hills. 

   
   
All was well for so much of the hike.  When we teached the top, we could see another lilliputian town on the other side of the mountain, the Pyrenees and the Mediterranean. Why, we could even see Spain from our backyard. 

   
 
Look at that smile. So happy. 

  
Until…we reached a shaded, canted, steep, slippery section on our descent. Let’s just say I didn’t like it one bit. In fact I had a “little” panic attack and Tim had to talk me off the cliff, so to speak, with me gripping his arm as I slipslided away. 

But descend we did with only a little butt sliding on my part. 

I shouldn’t have complained about toilets lacking seats since we encountered this one. 

  
In full disclosure we also found one with a padded seat. Not too bad when there’s no central heat. 

Then we were invited to a friend of our proprietors’ to settle up our bill, after 7. So we ate a hearty soup I made with fresh veggies from the market and headed out. Only to find  appetizers, local wine and a seafood stew bubbling in the pressure cooker. Oops. Who knew?

The weather turned

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Lots of clouds, drizzle or rain. Yesterday we headed to Montpelier and swam in their beautiful, somewhat crowded, 50 m pool. 

They have these nifty little hanger baskets for shoes, which must come off before entering the locker room, and outerwear.

  
Then we walked around the city. As did lots of others with colorful umbrellas. Our drive home on freeways was a little unnerving because we (I the navigator) headed off in the wrong direction more than once.

  
The cathedral is gianormous. 

 

  
Today was still drizzly and we took another city excursion to Sommiers, with a bridge from Roman times still in use. And black swans just like Tasmania. 

   
   
We found a nice walk up into the hills which allowed us to work off our crepes. 

We heard of a poppy field just outside Aniane and Tim found it on our way home. 

   
 
It reminded me of the beautiful tulips we saw in Amsterdam during our six hour layover and visit with old friends. I was too jetlagged to remember my camera though. 

Oh yes!  Why don’t french public toilets have seats?! 

  

The Walls of Aniane

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Tim has been focusing on the flowers that seem to grow on air from the old walls, bromiliads?

   
   
I’m impressed with the variety of graffiti. 

   
    
 

Then I hit a communication wall. I needed a haircut. I went to the salon with Tim and his friend, Patrick, who is fluent in french. I had to wait until Friday so they made it clear it needed to be long enough for a ponytail. 

 I even had this phrase on my phone, “J’aimerais bien garder les longueurs afin de pouvoir les mettre dans le queue de cheval si vous plait.”  You can translate it but it politely asks to keep it long enough for a pony tail. Day of the haircut I felt like an animal at the vet. Until an english song came on the radio, “I’m too drunk to f••k”. Good thing she and her customers didn’t speak english! Here’s the song.

   
 

Where are we?

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We cannot read the hiking maps. An easy walk turned into a 5.5 hour moderately difficult hike. Thank goodness we met a couple from the Isle of Skye, equally confused, who shed some light on where we might be.I became extremely quiet and stated an absolute turnaround time but we confirmed our location before we needed to turn around. 

The trail numbers are variable, Tim thinks he’s got it now, I remain dubious. But the sights, which cannot be captured by camera, were spectaculor. 

We could see our little village of Aniane way off in the distance.  

 We were even higher than the other day. I was surprised when some mountain bikers rode up the trail. 

  Some parts of the road were built more than a thousand years ago and were better than any Adirondack trail.   

We enjoyed some fresh spring water and a cold beer at the end of the hike and all was well with the world.