Sunday, September 12, 2004
Sailing for Port Stanley, Ontario
Ah, Canada. I love it!
What’s the big deal, eh? After all, it’s just Canada . . . eh. If that is your point of view, you’d be right, as walking down the street or shopping in a store, a cursory glance doesn’t reveal any thing different than the good ol’ U.S. of A. It is the subtle differences, which, as you spend time here, grow on you.
For instance, this is the first time we’ve officially entered another country on our boat. I was admittedly nervous, as I know how retentively beurocratic things are in our own country, and I didn’t want to screw up or offend the Canadian officials. So, I called ahead to inquire regarding proper entrance procedure.
“Hello, Bonjour. Thank you for calling CanPass,” spoke a woman’s soft voice on the phone.
“Ah, Well . . . Hello . . . Ah, I mean good afternoon,” I muttered. Stupid American. What the hell was the matter with me.
“Well, how ya doin’? What can I do fer ya?”
“Good. Ah . . . okay, well, here’s what I’m trying to do . . .” I said as I ran off the seeming complex plan of entering Canada and saving miles across the north side of Lake Erie . . . blah, blah, blah. – Idiot American, I think to myself, She doesn’t care.
“Well, great. That sounds like a lot of fun. Okay, it’s no problem. Where are you now?” she asked.
“I’m floating in the Detroit River, just north of Amherstburg,” I replied, feeling a little more at ease.
“Amherstburg, eh? Okay here’s whatcha wanna do. Do you know where Duffy’s Tavern is on the River?” Actually, I did, as I had passed by there earlier on my short trip in Lake Erie. They have a very empty marina.
“Duffy’s? Yeah, that’s just down stream from here?”
“Okay, well, go there and call me back when you get there.”
Duffy’s Tavern?
“Ahhh . . . okay. Thanks,” I said, hanging up the phone, feeling slightly confused about going to a tavern to make official entry into Canada. But maybe I’m missing something.
To Duffy’s we go. We pull up at the gas dock, read the sign that says “If you are entering Canada, please call . . .” I called. The lady on the phone politely asked questions about the boat, how long we were staying, registration numbers, etc, etc, etc.
“Okay, your wife’s birth date . . . do you know it?” She roared on the phone, laughing hysterical.
“Well, as a matter of fact, I do know it,” I replied, very proud of myself.
“Well, ya better, cause she’s probably standing right next to ya. So, don’t screw it up,” she laughed even harder.
After all the pleasant formalities, she told me to have a great trip and thanked me for visiting Canada.
“That’s it?” I asked. “Do I have to wait for someone to come down and look at the boat or anything?”
“Nope, you’re good. Have a nice day.” I was stunned. What, no forms to fill out? No border agents to hassle me? No customs officials to exercise their authority over me just because they can? No, that truly was the end of it. We put up our Canadian courtesy flag, advertising to the whole country we have properly entered Canada and were happy to be here. We are now truly world cruisers. We’re very proud.
So we sat there, as international travelers, tied up at Duffy’s gas dock, wondering what to do next. We didn’t want to pay to spend the night here, but we needed to go ashore, find a grocery store, and get some supplies. We went into Duffy’s and inquired if we could just stay their while we ran ashore.
“What, ya just doin’ some shoppin’? Just a few hours?,” asked the morning bartender? I nodded agreeably. “No problem. Could you pull off the Gas Bar, though, and move the the south dock so you’re out of the way of people who need gas?” Gas Bar? Is everything a bar or tavern around here? This country seems to have an obsession with alcohol. It was just after 11:00 am and there were already guys in there drinking their lunch. Is this place great, or what? I mean, what other countries have an official port of entry at a bar?
Amherstburg welcomed us and gave us a very positive impression. We went shopping at the neighborhood grocery store and stocked up. Again, just like home, but with subtle differences. First of all, their milk comes in bags, which we are still trying to get used to. Second, they don’t sell alcohol in their grocery stores. As a matter of fact, other than their bars, I have yet to see alcohol for sale anywhere here. But, their meat section of their grocery stores are fantastic and cheap! We have been feasting on larger Canadian versions of New York strip steaks. At around $4.50US, there are a real bargain and the meat is beautiful! It’s gourmet aboard Nereus while in Canada!
One of Our Purchases – Cinderella Sun Glasses! – Nice!
We finished shopping, stowed our provisions aboard, and decided it would be nice to stay tied to something that doesn’t move for the night, so we could get a decent night’s sleep. We inquired again in Duffy’s. “The guy who handles that has already gone home for the day and nobody is gonna care, anyway,” replied the bartender, “so don’t worry about it.” All ready gone home for the day? I was only 14:30 in the afternoon. Jeez. How relaxed is this country?
Around 22:30, we would find out. Sitting here, working on the website, I hear this drunken, slurred, Canadian, singing coming down the docks. It’s probably the guys who were in there at lunch finally deciding to go home. You could tell by their voices they were completely plowed! Next, I hear a boat engine start. The boat motors slowly, almost drunkenly, out of the marina before throttling wide open and taking off across the river. “Boy, I’m sure glad those drunk guys made it out of here in . . . ” I began as I was interrupted by loud reports echoing down the river?
Superstar and Mom Underway
“Were those gun shots?” Vanessa asked.
“Naw, it could of just been their engine backfiring. . .” I started, hopeful. Bang. Bang. Bang, Bang, Bang. Nope, it was definitely gun fire.
“Those crazy, drunken Canadians are shooting in the river,” laughed Vanessa. We looked at each other and, together, nervously chuckled at those silly, drunk Canadians. You could hear their hoots and hollers in between the gun shots as their engine roared up stream. I thought I could hear a “thunking” sound as bullets splashed into the water. They obviously were having a good time and obviously had way too much to drink in Duffy’s. Welcome to Canada.
Afternoon Cat Nap
After two nights bouncing around at anchor during Hurricane Francis left-overs, it was nice being tied to something secure. Well rested, we awoke Friday morning, started down the river and entered a completely different Lake Erie. It was erie; there were no winds, calm seas, and the waters were swarming with small fishing boats; exactly the opposite of what we saw just two days earlier. We spent the day motoring, and then finally motor sailing toward Leamington, our first port of call on Lake Erie.
We pulled in and a very nice Canadian couple and fellow cruisers, Chris and Linda, helped us temporarily tie up before we went to the office to take care of “business.”
“Welcome to the most expensive Marina on the Lake,” said Chris.
“Why’s it so expensive?” I inquired. I mean the exchange rate works in my favor, so how expensive could it be?
“Rich American boaters coming over from Ohio for ‘the Canadian Experience,'” He responded. Canadian experience? Hadn’t we just had that last night at Duffy’s, I wondered to myself, confused.
Rounding Point Pelee, the Southern Most Point in all of Canada
I went into the office and inquired about moorage. $1.95 per foot! Holy-moly! The total is $66.77 Canadian, including all the GST and other Canadian taxes they add on. It’s probably around $45US! This is the second most expensive marina we’ve stayed in during our whole trip, so far. I tried to talk them into letting us stay tied right where we were, over near Chris and Linda, however, the marina manager gave me some crap about it being too far a walk and wouldn’t we like to tie someplace much closer and better. What ever. After we moved, I figured out the real reason we were offered such “convenience.” All the Canadian season slip holders were over at our original landing. We were put over with the rest of the American’s who were already a few six-packs into the Canadian Experience. It quickly changed my perspective. I realize the official port of entry at Duffy’s Tavern was for the benefit of us American’s coming in to spend our money and make drunken fools of ourselves, while Canada banks bucks on our vises.
Rondeau Bay Fishing Fleet
Erieau Fish Packing Plant
Leamington was not the place for us. It was too expensive for what you got. Also, were weren’t here for the American version of the “Canadian Experience.” We are “When in Rome . . .” minded travelers and prefer to see things as the locals see them, not the way drunken Americans pay a premium to see them. So, early the next morning, we set out for our next stop, Rondeau Bay, about 45 nautical miles around Point Pelee and eastward up the Erie coast. It was a tough day on the water. The winds could not decide what they were doing, and the seas, while not bad, were rather confused. I was frustrated and fired up Big Red, full-throttle, while screaming at the gods of Erie for being too demanding of expensive champagne. The gods and their livers must also spend too much time “experiencing” Canada, and require much more appeasing than my wallet can afford. I actually had enough. Vanessa quickly took the helm. Perhaps a woman’s touch was appeasing, as she was able to calm the gods and actually motor-sailed us right into Rondeau Bay, while I sulked below and lost myself in a book. She’s becoming quiet the sailor and pilots us very well, and with more patience than me.
Spectacular Sunset on Rondeau Bay
Rondeau was more our style. The bay is actually a shallow, inland lake with a small channel connecting it to Lake Erie. The anchorage is very protected. It has a small fishing village, with a packing plant and a small fleet of fishing boats on the west side of the channel leading into the bay. On the right is a Provincial wild life preserve, occupied by more sea gulls and commorants, and more bird poop, than you could ever want to see. We dropped the hook, thawed out some fabulous steaks, opened a bottle of wine, and dined on deck as the sun set over southern Ontario. Magical! This is what it is all “aboot,” as they say in Canada.
Bing Loves those Sunglasses
And what a nights sleep. Rondeau was a perfect anchorage. We gently swung on anchor and slept like babies. It sure beat the hell out of Leamington, which was very nice, but a huge disappointment in our minds. Tonight, we will spend another night on the hook in a place called Port Stanley, which we know nothing of, other than what the chart tells us. Kind of exciting, not knowing what were going to get.
Tomorrow, we are expecting to head due east for Long Point, as long as the weather holds. Then, we’ll cross Lake Erie, head for Buffalo, and reenter the USA. There we’ll make preparations for our Erie Canal trip and take a couple of days off for rest and relaxation. If the next two days go well, we will have made up a whole month of our six week delay in Northport. How’s that for sailing!
– Steve
Steve’s List of Subtle Differences of Canada From Home
1) Beauocracy – where is it?
2) Canada’s money is prettier.
3) No gutters in the streets – leaving no place for drunken Americans to be face down in.
4) Cobblestone sidewalks, paved streets.
5 ) Drink legally at nineteen, but be more mature about it.
6 ) Milk comes in Bags.
7 ) Meat is better, and cheaper, making it more better.
8 ) Canadian’s are more crazy about fishing – if that is possible.
9 ) Canadian’s are more polite and laid back, except when it comes to fishing.
10) Everything is written in English and French, as apposed to the English and Spanish we are used to back in Las Vegas.