Our last blog ended on arrival at Blind River, proudly known by its inhabitants as the "metropolis of the North Channel". Well, it is on the North Channel. Arriving there presented us with the truly delightful view of an abandoned sawmill, eerily towering over the waterfront. The other prime industry seems to be a gas station on the Transcanada Highway - and a nuclear power station!. 

The employers and employees of these industries have a wide variety of entertainment establishments in the downtown core, namely the Iron Horse Saloon, which has two pool tables and the Riverfront Inn which has one. They seem to cater to exactly the same customers depending on the availability of a pool table.

The intrepid crew of "Prozac" were lucky enough to hitch a ride to the downtown strip (about one block in dimension) from a most kindhearted gentleman who advised us about the local nightlife in exquisite detail, although he was clearly not a regular customer of either establishment. We owe this man great thanks - who else would pick up four unshaven, slightly pissed over-aged boaters meandering down the road? Sadly this kind gentleman had lost his right arm, which would not merit mention had the next person we encountered been a lonely smoker outside the Iron Horse who was missing his left arm! 

We could go on about the characters in the two bars, but time and space do not allow, except for one of the regular pool players who apparently owned a restaurant catering to the breakfast and lunch crowd. Upon enquiring about time for breakfast he seemed to intimate that he usually opened at 7 or 8 o'clock, but for us, he'd be willing to make it 8:30!

We missed reveille so regrettably missed the 8:30 breakfast. Carl seemed to do all sorts of industrious things starting around 0600 hours (what, the writer doesn't know). The balance of the crew staggered out of their sleeping bags at about 0900 or so, and after the usual morning preparations, we had "Prozac" shifted and safely berthed at the fuel dock of the marina, where diesel was taken (except that it actually wasn't because it appeared that the dock supply was empty - OK though, 'cos we had enough), the head sucked (sic) and fresh water was replenished.

Off we set for the second half of our North Channel leg of the journey. The wind howled from directly ahead for just about the entire voyage so our 6-hour gentle rest-and-recuperate cruise became a 12 hour and 10 minute fight against the elements and narrow channels, including a particularly shallow and meandering passage fortunately reached in daylight otherwise there was concern that we might need to find a refuge anchorage. We finally arrived in Little Current well after sundown and safely docked at the Government Dock. For all you avid blog followers, this replaces Spider Bay in your follow-us-along kit.

Actually a perfect berth, being less than 100 yards from the front door of the Anchor Inn, where internet access was available, as was beer and... a pool table! 

Unfortunately almost the entire "sail" today wasn't - other than a 15-minute run at 6.5k with the jib up just before Little Current, and an abortive effort a few hours earlier (tacking so much that Blind River seemed to be our next destination, not our last) - as we were on engine power alone fighting the head winds and heavy swell at an average of about 3.5 knots. 

But... despite this gloomy tale, there was a real trip highlight. George Pudsey, a friend of Greg, was returning home to Huntsville, ON in his Cessna from picking up his daughter (a fighter-pilot trainee) in Michigan and gave us multiple flypasts and snapped some photos of us underway. Hopefully they will appear in today's "Latest Pictures" due to the miracle of modern technology. Thanks George, well-arranged Greg and special thanks to George's daughter who we understand to have actually been piloting while C-GPUD screamed around in 25-knot winds at about 100 feet! We snapped pictures of the plane. Peter said "Was that a fly-past or a sail-by?"

Thanks to all those that have clicked the e-mail tab on the blog - bar owners, sisters, friends, colleagues, ex-colleagues and biomedical engineers alike - keep those cards and letters coming.

It's now 0230 - I'm tired and it's pissing with rain (noise of water both above and below my palatial suite aboard "Prozac" - so I'm hitting the sack. Night night.

Thanks to those who have clicked the e-mail tab - Chuck, Selina, Denis et al - keep all those cards and letters coming!

Author: Helmsman Smith