Monday, September 10, 2012

Upper Peninsula

The weather kept us in Mackinac City longer than we had planned, so we decided to do some touring from there. Since we were at the foot of the Mackinac Bridge that connects the Upper and Lower Peninsulas of Michigan it was the perfect kick-off point for visiting the Upper Peninsula. 

The most interesting tourist spot, for a boater at least, is the Sault St. Marie locks. This is the connector between Lake Superior and Lake Huron. There are actually four U.S. locks and a Canadian lock all co-located in the cities of Sault St. Marie (Michigan and Ontario). The cities are connected by the International Bridge. The day we went there was no problem traveling from the U.S. to Canada, but the traffic to go the other way (into the U.S.) was backed up half way across the bridge. We contented ourselves with visiting the U.S. side of the locks.

We got lucky and arrived as a freighter was going through. There were only six freighters scheduled to lock through all day (they post the schedule at the visitors center) and the one we caught was the last one for six hours. You can't really get a feel for how large these ore carriers and the locks are from the first picture. It was taken as the boat was ready to exit the lock. This boat is heading down from Superior to Huron, a drop of about 20 feet, so what you are seeing is the top of the ship. The second picture gives you a better sense of how big the ship was. These things ease into the locks with very little room to spare on either side.
Freighter in the lock
Freighter leaving the lock
From Sault St. Marie we drove west to the town of Paradise, Michigan. Jim and I both read a mystery series written by Steve Hamilton set in Paradise, so a quick visit seemed in order. The area around Paradise is the moose sightings capital of Michigan, but we didn't see any moose.

We did see some bears. I'd like to leave the impression that we were in the wild with the bears, but we were actually at a bear refuge near Newberry, Michigan where captured bears are sent when they can't continue to live in their natural habitat (too used to garbage dumpster diving, for example). They keep the males and females separated most of the time, but they do have young cubs at the refuge, so the males and females must get together at some point.
Male bear
Female bear near her den
One of the unexpected (by me) features of the Upper Peninsula was the number of lovely white sand beaches on the shores of both Lake Superior and Lake Michigan. It was hot the weekend we traveled through the Upper Peninsula and there were folks frolicking in the surf all along the shore. I actually looked a lot like Seal Beach in Southern California although the waves were smaller and you don't have the pungent odor of seawater because, of course, the lakes are fresh water.

Before we left Mackinac City I finally got around to cleaning off all the decals and stickers we had acquired for this trip. The big 2012 number we posted was our Canadian clearance number given to us when we checked in to Canada in June. The customs people warned us that we could be challenged by police to prove we had legally checked in to the country and the best defense was to just post the number, although we weren't technically required to do so. Sure enough, one morning we were asked by the local cops if we were in the country legally. All I had to do was point to the number and they went away. The purple stickers are the Erie Canal passes which have to be posted on both sides of the boat. The white and orange are the Parks Canada passes for the Trent Severn Waterway, one that gives us the right to transit the locks and the other that means we can overnight at the locks. The little blue and white one is a U.S. Customs sticker and the big blue one is our Florida registration. In addition to all of these, the dinghy had it's own set of stickers.
Stickers galore
More stickers
From Mackinac City we also drove down into the Lower Peninsula to the towns of Harbor Springs and Petoskey, both of which are in Little Traverse Bay. We weren't planning to take the boat to Little Traverse Bay, so this gave us a chance to see those places. Harbor Springs is a quaint little touristy town with lots of coffee bars and boutiques. Petoskey is a slightly larger tourist spot with great restaurants and its own local stone. The Petoskey Stone is a coral that lived 350 million years ago when the northern part of Michigan was covered with a sea of warm water. As Lake Michigan freezes and thaws it breaks up these stones and pushes them ashore. When they are smoothed and polished you can easily see the polyps in the coral.

Petoskey stone
To get from Mackinac City to Harbor Springs you drive through the Tunnel of Trees, a twelve mile road along the shoreline of Lake Michigan covered in forest with tasteful, expensive homes tucked away on the hillsides. There are a lot of wealthy people vacationing in upstate Michigan. It has been a vacation destination since the stockyards of Chicago and the steel mills of Cleveland were founded in the nineteenth century. I'd never been here before and I was surprised at how pretty it is. But then that is what this whole trip is about, learning about new places.

Monday, August 27, 2012

Mackinac Island

We finally got a good weather day and had a lovely trip from DeTour to Mackinac Island. Mackinac Island has a State of Michigan marina which is reputed to always be full. The cruising guides warn that you may have to anchor out in the bay to wait for a slip. That was not our experience. We made an online reservation before we left DeTour and had no trouble getting in. Friends of ours just stopped by in their boat to see if they could get a slip - no problem. The economy is taking its toll on the number of boaters out here.

Mackinac Island marina seen from the fort
We weren't the only ones who had been waiting to move. While we were in Mackinac Island a number of boats we have been traveling with over the summer came through, including Bama Belle, Hallelujah,  and Viking Star. We also ran into Harlen and Sharon on Two for the Road. They were part of the Lock 2 Yacht Club group of boats trapped in the Erie Canal by Hurricane Irene last year. They stored Two for the Road in the same yard where we stored Downtime last year, but they hadn't returned from Wyoming before we left. They took a completely different route to reach Mackinac than we did, traveling to the western end of the Erie Canal, through the Welland Canal to Lake Erie, through Detroit, and up Lake Huron. Like us, they are leaving their boat in Michigan this winter, although they are storing in Muskegon which is much further south than we are going.

Lock 2 Yacht Club reunion
As you probably know, Mackinac Island is a vacation destination where the automobile was banned in 1898 because it scared the horses. This lends a certain pungent odor to the town, although they work very hard to keep the streets clean in the busiest tourist sections of the island. There are 8-10 hotels, including the 319 room Grand Hotel, numerous B&Bs, and vacation rental homes on the island, but most of the tourists here are day trippers known as "Fudgies" who come over for the day on ferry boats from Mackinaw City on the lower peninsula of Michigan, or from St. Ignace on the Upper Peninsula. They are called Fudgies because Mackinac Island is known for its fudge. There must be 25 fudge stores in the one mile stretch that is the main tourist drag on the island.

The lack of automobiles and trucks makes stocking the stores and hotels interesting. Delivery trucks arrive early in the morning on ferries. They are unloaded while still on the ferry and their cargo is transferred to horse drawn wagons. Most of this goes on before the first ferries full of Fudgies arrive.

UPS truck on its ferry

SYSCO wagon delivering food to restaurants
Grocery store deliveries
Basic services depend on horses and wagons as well. This is a Mackinac Island taxi.


And this is the Island's version of the Waste Management truck.

Garbage collector
Although it is possible to rent horses to see the island, most tourists rent bicycles if they want to leave the immediate downtown area near the docks. The island is ringed with an 8 1/2 mile road, the only State of Michigan highway where motorized vehicles are banned.

Mackinac Island has been a vacation destination from the end of the Civil War. Many wealthy families built vacation homes here in the 19th century, some of which are still private residences. Many of these lovely Victorians have been turned into B&Bs or small hotels.

Victorians seen from the water
The grandest of the hotels is the Grand Hotel, built in 1872. This place thinks so much of itself, they charge $10 per person just to go in and look around. We went to the buffet luncheon so our entry fee was credited to our lunch bill.

Grand Hotel from the water

Closer view of the Grand Hotel porch
It truly is a beautiful place, but it is very expensive. We saw some advertised "deals" that were only $189 per person per night mid-week. That does include lunch and dinner, but still seems pricey to me. In the "small world" department, we were sitting on the porch enjoying the view after lunch when a former client from the County of Los Angeles Public Library walked up to say hello. Terri had been the Deputy County Librarian until she retired and moved to Hilo, Hawaii two years ago. I asked what someone who lives in Hawaii was doing vacationing in Michigan. She said she grew up in Wisconsin and remembered her father bringing her to see the Grand Hotel when she was only 12. She had always wanted to stay there and this was the year she finally did it.

After 2 1/2 days of enjoying the island, we left for Mackinaw City on the northern most tip of the lower peninsula of Michigan. We've been doing some touring around from here (more about that in the next post) but we are nearing the end of this year's journey. For several weeks now Ron has been claiming he sees the trees beginning to change and now Jim and I can see it also. Fall comes early when you are this far north.

Saturday, August 18, 2012

DeTour, Michigan

Waiting, once again, for weather. It seems to be the theme of the end of this year's trip.

We are in DeTour, Michigan, at the southeast corner of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. DeTour is a town of 325 hardy souls with one grocery store, three restaurants (one is actually the local bar), and a State of Michigan marina. Michigan has built "marinas of refuge" about 20 miles apart down all of its coastline, in recognition of just how nasty the marine weather can get in a very short period of time.

Down Time in DeTour

The first day we came in was lovely, but by the next day the winds had picked up and it had started to rain. After three days, the rain has stopped, but the winds are still high and coming from the direction we want to go. The forecast for tomorrow is good, so we're hopeful we can leave and go to Mackinac Island.

One compensation for spending time in DeTour is ship watching. DeTour is on the DeTour Passage, a body of water that connects Lake Huron with the St. Mary's River. The St. Mary's River is the connecting point between Lake Huron and Lake Superior, through the Sault St. Marie Locks. I think this is the busiest commercial waterway we have been on since Norfolk, Virginia.

There are two types of commercial boats streaming up and down the river, lakers and salties. Lakers are the inland ships that move materials between the lake ports, for example taking taconite (an iron-bearing sedimentary rock) from the mines in Duluth to the steel mills in Chicago and Gary, Indiana. Salties are the ships that move things from Great Lakes ports across oceans. I'm not sure which one this is, but it was big. We have a book on board titled Know Your Ships that gives information about the boats that travel up here. A length of 600 feet with a width of 60 feet and a carrying capacity of 20,000 tons is a fairly standard ship up here.

Saltie or laker?
We are only three good weather days away from where we will store the boat, although we have planned to stop along the way and see some of the sites. Think good weather thoughts for us. Otherwise this year's water cruise may end more abruptly than we had planned and we may find ourselves seeing this last of this year's sights from a rental car.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Back in the U.S.A.

Just a quick note to let everyone know that we have checked back into the States at Drummond Island, Michigan. Verizon phone and Internet service is still spotty, but it should get better as we head west to Mackinac Island, then south to Charlevoix.

We've had two lovely days of weather since we left Gore Bay. The forecast is for increasing winds from the west (the direction we need to go) over the next two days, so we may be sitting, waiting for weather again. I have noticed that we now seem to be surrounded by Michigan and Wisconsin boats heading for home. I guess the locals know the weather signs that indicate the end of the boating season. Ron swears that he has seen trees that are starting to change colors and it is only the 14th of August.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Gore Bay, North Channel

I am writing this from inside a marine store in Gore Bay, a bay on the south side of the North Channel about half way along. I am writing from land rather than the boat because the weather is so bad, and the boat is so rocky, that trying to use my computer on board makes me seasick. Mind you, the boat is tried to the dock and still rocking hard enough to make me seasick. Not a fun time.

We really can't complain. Until this week the weather has been wonderful. But this week has more than made up for it. We left Little Current and went to a nearby anchorage in Clapperton Island for the night. The weather forecast for the next day was winds 15-20 knots from the west-northwest, so we changed our plans and went to Hotham Island which had a protected anchorage for winds from that direction. We weren't the only ones with that plan. There were already 6-8 boats when we got there and another 5-6 came in during the afternoon. By the evening the winds had picked up considerably and it blew hard and steady the entire next day. We just hunkered down on the boat in sunny, not particularly cold weather. Unfortunately, the winds shifted 180 degrees between when we arrived and when the strongest winds blew. Those of us anchored at the end of the pack all ended up dragging anchor. Fortunately, we were the last boat to drift and by then, having watched three others deal with the problem, Ron and I were sitting on deck and he noticed immediately when the problem began. Like the well-oiled machine that we are, we started the engines and got re-anchored with a minimum of drama.

The following morning the winds were still brisk, but they had lightened up and were blowing from behind us, given where we wanted to go, so we moved on to Eagle Island. The crew (Jim and Ron) claim to have seen an otter in the water as we anchored, I can't confirm that, I was busy driving the boat. We had a wonderful, sunny day but next day dawned overcast and crisply cool. Our next planned anchorage required navigating through rocks to get in and it isn't easy to see rocks under water with overcast skies. We decided to sit at Eagle another day. That night the winds kicked up again to over 20 knots coming straight down the mouth of the bay at Eagle. Wary because of our recent dragging experience, neither Jim nor I could sleep. We decided to sit up, spelling each other in one hour watches, to keep an eye on the anchor. Of course, she held like a champ.

We moved on the the Benjamin Islands which are one of the most popular anchorages in the North Channel. But now it was the 8th of August and the vacationing Canadians are beginning to thin out. The Great Loopers who are doing this trip in a single year are also moving through because they need to be through Chicago by Labor Day to stay ahead of the weather. So we had only six other boats in an anchorage which apparently holds up to forty boats on a typical summer night.

North Benjamin Island
Ron and I got off to walk on the island and stretch our legs. Fortunately Ron recognizes poison ivy when he sees it, so we were able to steer clear of the abundant weed. We did find an Inukshuk, a rock representation of a man created by the First Nation people to identify places where men had passed before. These things exist all over the Georgian Bay and North Channel. They were meant to indicate places where food had been stored, or locations critical to the fall hunting excursions.

The Benjamin Islands also treated us to another of those beautiful Canadian sunsets.

Sailboat in the Benjamins at sunset
During our walkabout on North Benjamin Island, Ron did something only crazy Canadians do, he went in the water. You have to understand, the water is cold up here, seriously cold. The Canadians, hardy people that they are, jump in all the time, but we wimpy Americans limit our water experiences to dangling our feet from the swim platform, or trailing our hands in the water when riding in the dinghy. We don't, as a rule, put our whole bodies in the water. Ron will kill me for posting this picture, but he won't see it until he gets home and by then it will be too late.

Ron at the Benjamins
While we were at the Benjamins, the weather forecast got ugly, north and northeast winds at a steady  25 knots with higher gusts for two full days. This is the kind of weather where you want to be safely tied up at a dock, not swinging around on an anchor. We needed to re-provision anyway so we left early Thursday morning headed for Gore Bay.

Gore Bay is southwest of the Benjamins, so we had the winds behind us all the way. A good thing because the seas were already building to 3 feet. We got here at noon and by that afternoon the boat began to bounce. Even in a protected bay, the winds and seas were rough, Then it began to rain. All in all, an icky couple of days. So here we sit, on shore to avoid the lumpy seas and bouncy boat, waiting for the weather to change. It is Saturday, and the forecast doesn't look like we'll be leaving before Monday.

When we do leave, we'll be starting what will probably be our last week in Canada. By the end of the week we'll be in Drummond Island, where we will clear back into the U.S. The season is coming to an end up here. Soon it will be time to clean and store the boat. We have enjoyed both the North Channel and the Georgian Bay, but neither of us feels the need to stay up here another year. So we'll put the boat away for the winter and next year we're headed south.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Goodbye Georgian Bay, Hello North Channel

We have made it through the Georgian Bay and entered the North Channel. We are in the town of Little Current on Manitoulin Island right at the juncture of the Georgian Bay and the north Channel. This map will give you some idea of where that actually is. It also shows where the rest of this year's trip will take us because we will be leaving the boat in storage along the upper western shore of Michigan some time in September. [Thanks to our friends on Sojourner from whom I copied this map.]
Georgian Bay and North Channel
Our last blog was created in Parry Sound. Since then we have wandered through the small craft channel among some of the prettiest and most unforgiving cruising grounds we have ever been in. As you can see from the pictures, the route winds around low lying granite rocks. It takes two people to navigate this stuff, one to drive the boat and the other to search for the next marker and keep a close eye on the charts.

The upside of all these islands and rocks, for the Canadians, is an endless supply of places to build their "cottages." As we cruised through we took pictures of some of the more typical and/or interesting cottages we passed.

As you can tell, the styles range from actual cottages to "what was the architect thinking?" construction. I would like to have heard the construction manager's comments on that last house when he first saw the plans. Remember that all of these places are on islands. That means they probably bring the construction materials to the sites in the dead of winter, driving over the ice. Otherwise all of the materials would have to arrive by boat. The cottagers themselves arrive by boat, or in some cases airplane.

As we've gone further north the terrain has been changing. There are fewer low lying rocks; instead we have steeper hills and pine forests right down to the water line. Ron says it is like boating through the tops of the Rockies and I think he is right.

One night we found ourselves in Mill Lake, the most beautiful place we have anchored so far, and we had the anchorage entirely to ourselves. It was a rare and wonderful treat. It was also one of the places where we enjoyed one of many spectacular Canadian sunsets.

Down time in Mill Lake

On our trip from Mill Lake to Killarney we even saw a beaver lodge, no beaver just the lodge.

We have also been serenaded many nights by the calls of loons. Ron calls them "loonie tunes." I have tried unsuccessfully to snap a picture of these colorful birds, but to no avail. Every time one gets close enough to photograph, as soon as I get the camera out, they dive under the water. Jim says it is loons 37, Diane 0. He's right. So you'll have to settle for this image from the Internet. This is their summer plumage. They are not a colorful in the winter.

Tomorrow we are headed off to enjoy the islands of the North Channel. At the end of the North Channel is Drummond Island where we check back into the U.S. We probably won't have Internet access again until then (maybe two weeks from now). So look for the next posting then. This post is brought to you courtesy of the Town Docks in Little Current, Manitoulin Island, Ontario, the only marina we have been in in Canada that actually gets the Internet and understands how to run a WiFi network. I love these people!

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Georgian Bay

Everyone who has been here before told us that the Georgian Bay was the most beautiful freshwater cruising ground in North America. After a week of cruising around, I'm more than willing to agree with them. We left Midland in the morning, on a beautiful sunny day, passing this mural painted on the Archer Daniel Midlands grain elevators in the harbor on our way out. Midland has supported the creation of a number of murals in town, some just decorating the buildings, others displaying some of the local history. This particular one commemorates the arrival of the Jesuits to preach to the local native tribe (known as First Nation peoples to politically correct Canadians) in the early 1700s. Of course, since this particular tribe no longer exists, I'm not sure that the First Nation folks would necessarily be delighted to be reminded of this momentous event, especially with a 60 foot tall mural.

Midland mural
The section of the Georgian Bay we are in is called the 30,000 Islands. It is estimated that there are actually more than double that number of islands in the bay, but I suspect they got tired of counting. Of course, there is always the issue of what constitutes an island, so they decided to stop at 30,000. Many of the islands are big enough have several houses on them. Canadians refer to this area as "cottage country" and have been building summer homes on these islands for over 100 years. It seems like every Canadian we have spoken to has a family cottage somewhere on the water up here. Many of the cottages are accessible only by water. And some of them are "four season" cottages which means they are accessible by snowmobile in the winter when the water freezes. You can usually tell a four season cottage by the size of the wood pile near the back door.

Longuissa Bay
Our first anchorage was a short trip from Midland in Longuissa Bay. We passed many cottages tucked into islands on our way to Longuissa, but there were none on the shores of the anchorage. Apparently this is a good thing, because it seems that there can be tension between boaters and cottagers up here. Each group is here to have what the tourist guides refer to as "an authentic woodlands experience" and neither seems to believe that the other should be part of that experience. Boaters want pristine shorelines and cottagers want uninterrupted water views. Oh well.

Since it is prime vacation time right now, we have developed a pattern of leaving one anchorage in the morning after breakfast, traveling for 12-15 miles and pulling into a new anchorage early, usually before noon. This means we arrive before most, if not all, of our fellow boaters and we are happily anchored in the prime spot before it begins to get crowded. Actually, although we have had other boats with us in all the anchorages, none of them have been crowded. There are so many places to go, if a boat pulls in and finds other boats, there is always somewhere else to check close by.

Down Time in Echo Bay
Our favorite anchorage so far is Echo Bay. This bay is part of a provincial park so there were no cottages and lots of wildlife. We even put our toes in the water. The surface water is warm, but apparently it gets cold quickly. Ron actually dived in from the boat and he said as his hands hit the water, he was thinking "maybe this wasn't such a good idea." We had gone ashore earlier and picked up a park publication which described the phenomena of "cold shock," where you fall in the water, your body shuts down blood flow to your extremities to preserve your warmth, you begin involuntary hyperventilation to try to re-establish blood flow, and you end up drowning because you ingest too much water. Fortunately, none of the above happened to Ron, but he came out of the water right quickly.

The pictures don't do justice to how pretty it is up here with pine forests coming down to the water line. Nor can you capture the sounds of the loons calling at sunset and the flocks of geese organizing the themselves for the night. It is spectacularly beautiful.

Echo Bay
While we were in Echo Bay, we took the dingy for a two mile ride to Henry's Restaurant. Henry's is a local fish restaurant and seaplane airport. That's right, the restaurant is a licensed seaplane airport, served by five commercial airlines. Of course, the planes are only big enough to carry a couple of people plus the pilot but the food is worth the trip. In addition to seaplane parking, the restaurant also has docking room for about 40 boats. All this is because you can only get to this place by water or air. The employees live in dormitories there at the restaurant during the season because the nearest town of any size (and it is not much of a town) is more than 12 nautical miles away. The fish and chips were to die for, served family style, with a big bowl of french fries and a platter of battered pickerel (a local fish). We loved every mouthful.

I'm writing this from Parry Sound, the largest town on the Georgian Bay and the last good provisioning spot. As we head further north, the towns get smaller and further apart and the grocery stores get smaller. We've loaded on ten days worth of food and tomorrow we strike out for more anchoring. I'm not sure when the next WiFi will happen but you will hear from us then.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Transmission trouble? Again? Really?!?

We went to the town of Midland after we left the Trent Severn. There are very few towns of any size on the Georgian Bay and Midland is the first of the available reprovisioning stops. Since it is high boating season up here, we have reverted to our usual behavior of pulling in somewhere for the week end and leaving the water and anchorages for the locals who have to work during the week.

Jim changed the oil in the engines while we were in Midland and while he was running the engines after the oil change he noticed a "coffee grinder" sound coming from the starboard transmission in idle, like something was loose in there. Not good. So rather than leaving Monday morning, as had been our plan, we pulled across Midland Harbor to Bay Point Marina to have their mechanics take a listen to the transmission. Yup, they agreed with Jim, it sounded bad in idle. Interestingly enough, the sounds quit if he rev'd the engine higher.

Do we need to replace the transmission? We are already the only Endeavour Trawlercat to have ever needed to replace a transmission and now the second one is gone less than a month after the first? Really? Just to make it all more interesting, there is no replacement transmission available in Canada. Are we looking at another drive down to New Jersey to pick up another transmission? Can you take a Canadian rental car to the U.S.? Can you come back over the border with a $2,000 boat part in your trunk? Spirits were a wee bit low on the good ship Down Time.

Fortunately, Jim has cultivated a slew of support people over the years, folks he can call when he has a problem he can't figure out. This time he called a guy at Mastry, the company that sold the engines for this boat to Endeavour. He recognized the problem immediately, even describing the symptoms to Jim before Jim had a chance to describe them himself. A simple tweak of the idle RPMs and the problem disappeared. Hallelujah!

Tomorrow we're off to the Georgian Bay anchorages. Wish us luck!

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Big Chute

The trip from Orillia to the Georgian Bay includes the last four locks on the Trent Severn Waterway. One of these, Swift Rapids, was built in the 1960s and is the deepest, single standard lock on the waterway at 47 feet. We were going down and it takes eight minutes just to let the water out of the lock. But the highlight of the waterway is Big Chute, a railway lock that connects two bodies of water by carrying boats over a 57 foot hill on a railway car. That's right - a railway car.

Railway car

I was standing on the road as the car passed me heading down to pick up a boat when I took this picture. If you look very closely, you can see two people standing next to the ranger station in the middle of the picture at the bottom. That gives you some perspective on how big this thing is.

The reason they built this type of connector was to contain an invasive species of sea lampreys that had spawned in the Georgian Bay. They didn't want them to get into the lakes of the waterway. Since fish can and do lock through with boats in a conventional lock, they decided to drive over the hill rather than cut through it.

Hill that Big Chute traverses
The way this works is that the rail car drives into the water, then boats drive into the car. 
Headed down to pick up boats

Boats entering submerged rail car

Small, flat bottom boats and jet skis just sit on the bottom of the car and the riders hold on to the sides. Larger boats are held in place by straps that the lock staff adjust as the boats drive into the car.

Rear boat held by straps
Because Down Time is a catamaran, a boat with two hulls, they sat her on the bottom of the car resting on her hulls. We have metal struts protecting the propellers at the back of the boat that can't take the load of the boat, so they put us in the back of the car and actually left the last eight feet of the boat hanging off the back to protect the struts.

Once the car is loaded, they just drive it over the hill, into the water on the other side, and the boats re-float and drive away.

Up with a full load
At the top of the hill
Re-entering the water on the other side

Driving away from the submerged car
This is the way it looks from inside your boat while you are crossing.

As I said, we were at the back of the car, so we didn't get the really great views. But that was fine, I found it nerve-wracking enough from the back. The rail car rumbles along, bouncing and rocking a bit and I found every little twitch scary. I was convinced that we were going to fall off the back although, of course, they do this six times an hour, all day long, many times with boats bigger than ours and don't drop them.

The mechanism that pulls the car over the hill is a series of cables. The car is built with two sets of wheels that run on independent tracks. This keeps the car level as it climbs and descends the hill.

Cables inside the lock house

Cables running into the tracks

It was an interesting experience. I'm glad it was a one time adventure, although plenty of local boats go through it multiple times every summer. I guess experience makes it easier. Even the lock tenders admitted they see so few boats like ours they are not as familiar with how to load and carry them as they are with the Sea Rays and Rinkers and other boats that the Canadians typically own in this part of the world.