Boy, after nineteen days, are we professional - or what? Alarm set for 04:45, we slipped the lines at 05:01 as the sun emerged over the horizon. As usual the weather forecast had been for showers with possible thunderstorms and, as usual, it was totally wrong. Indeed it proved warm enough for AB Jack to attempt another weed-clearing swim which was made more challenging by doing it in open water with the boat still moving... Fortunately Jack is a strong swimmer!

A quick call on the VHF returned a 'go' response from the Eisenhower lock: they were almost ready for us and, by slowing down, we timed our arrival to coincide with a green light. Our lines attached to the sliding float, the drop was quite fast and very soon we were on our way to the Snell Lock which also was ready to receive us. Progress, so far, was great! And we were being helped by the current which, going under the Seaway International Bridge, pushed our speed to the maximum of the whole trip at just under 10 knots.

Soon we were in Lac Saint-François, the last real expanse of open water left before Montreal. Chef Jones, still riding high from his successful breakfast of a summer berry compote continued in his goal to use up all the remaining food by preparing a full buffet lunch of cheeses, meats and salads, washed down with a fine bottle (or two) of red wine. This event also marked the end of the Mennonite Summer Sausage which had kept our jaws exercised for the previous ten days...

Our luck continued at the Valleyfield bridge as we were able to tuck in behind an upbound ship carrying a cargo of knocked-down windmills - and, again, at Beauharnois bridge which was open for a Greenfleet ship also carrying windmills. At the upper Beauharnois Lock, we circled for a few times awaiting an upbound Arctic resupply ship to clear through; and at the lower lock, for one of the world's most expensive private yachts, "Blue Moon", that was being repositioned to Chicago where its owner resides.

This amazing good fortune of encountering no delays at any of the locks or bridges actually put us ahead of schedule. We could have stayed in bed this morning for another couple of hours! Having announced our prospective ETA at Pointe Claire for 18:00, we decided to kill ninety minutes by sailing around Lac St Louis. Typically the weather started to change and the winds picked up to 25 knots. We raised the main but quickly dropped it when the lazyjack bag started to flap wildly. Clearly our guesswork on assembling this when re-stepping the mast was flawed! However with just the jib flying, we skidded along at over 7 knots.

The only other boat on the lake came whistling out of Beaconsfield Yacht Club and seemed to be heading straight for us. Greg had raced back from a business trip to Ottawa to ensure that we had a reception committee to greet us, arming his friend, John, with a camera and instructions to take some photos, quite a challenge for a non-sailor in those conditions.

Exhaustion started to set in and we decided to call it a day, docking at the fuel jetty at PCYC to unload the crew's gear. We were met by Chris, Theyre's wife, who had been watching our antics out on the lake. Chris also came armed with a surprise: a bottle of champagne for the skipper to celebrate his birthday.

Greg and John arrived, followed by Peter C, and we moved Prozac to its permanent berth, to be greeted by Jane, Meghan and Sophie bringing yet more champagne. A party began, a party celebrating a successful voyage but also a wake to mark the end of this fantastic experience, all captured on camera by Dennis.

The boat had stood up to the test so well but looked sadly neglected as we departed as she was in need of a thorough clean to bring her back to her pristine condition. It was clear what was ahead for Carl and Jane over the forthcoming weekend.... But it was unanimously agreed by the crew who had been aboard for all or part of the nineteen days that nothing beats a good spell on Prozac!