the Walnut Diary

It’s been three years since I’ve traveled any distance on the Rideau, so I jumped at the chance when my pal Tony needed crew to take his boat from Chaffey’s to Merrickville for an engine replacement.

Running on one engine in a twin-engined cruiser is never easy. Tony and Anne’s Sea Ray, The Big Chill, is 13 feet across at the transom with the propellers spread wide, so controlling the monster in a lock with the only power in the right rear corner is definitely an acquired taste. Further, the control station is nine feet up a narrow ladder to the upper deck, so about all the captain can do is drive the boat and occasionally shout encouragement to others below.

On the other hand we had a good crew consisting of fifteen-year-old Sean, who had grown up on the boat, veteran skipper Tony, and your scribe, who has spent many a summer day on the waterway.

The old adage holds that the amount of paint the vessel’s hull loses in the first lock is in direct proportion to the number of captains aboard, so I worked hard to play the role of crewman only, and the lockages at Newboro and the Narrows went well, aided by very helpful lock crews aware of our plight.

At the Narrows a group of young teenagers packing up after an overnight stay used an innovative method to cram their equipment into the large carry-all sacks for the canoes. The two tallest girls stood on either side of each bag and another added kit. The smallest girl in the group balanced on top of the inflow of tents, sleeping bags and such, tamping everything down with vigorous jumps, while relying on the shoulders of her stanchions for support. I may be telling this badly, but it was one of the funniest things I have seen in some time.

The owner of the large yacht beside us confided that one year he and his wife ran the entire triangle – Montreal to Kingston, Kingston to Ottawa, Ottawa to Montreal – on a single engine rather than retreat home after an early failure.

The Big Rideau offered 2 ½ hours of leisurely sight-seeing. We cruised close to the north shore to enjoy the architecture and landscape.

I called ahead to Poonamalee and the crew assured me that the way was clear, so we glided down the narrow channel into one of the prettiest, most welcoming locks on the system. Then it was down the river to the Detached Lock in Smiths Falls, where they let us through the gates and lowered the water, but told us there’d be a delay until the electrican fixed the swing bridge. We had no sooner started lunch than the lock guys let us know that the gates and the bridge were open: would we care to move ahead?

I’ve always claimed the most fun in boating is to wave to the line of motorists waiting at swing bridges on a holiday weekend, and this was no exception. It’s a cruel pleasure, but still fun.

At the Combined Lock I shook hands with my former student Tony Gunn. The seasonal staff gaped at me when I told them this. I guess we both looked older than Methuselah to them.

Old Sly’s is often the trickiest lockage on the system. This year things went very well until we were leaving the bottom lock. Confused by a large patch of weeds, this crewman didn’t fend off the wall firmly enough, and that left Tony no alternative but to brush the lock gate on the way out. Then we encountered a boat broadside in the channel, forcing Tony to stop. With no water flowing over the rudder, the stop left him with little control of the vessel, so much confusion ensued until we got past the three oncoming boats in the confined area and Tony was able to regain steerageway.

Then the engine overheated. It had picked up something from that floating mass in the lock, so we had to idle most of the way to Edmund’s while they held the lock for us.

We docked outside a lock for the first time on the trip at Kilmarnok while an upward-bound vessel came through, then we were on the home stretch, all eyes on the temperature gauge, for the long run to Merrickville.

The engine held, and a call ahead again had the lock gates open and waiting, though in this case Tony had to squeeze us in behind The Rideau King, a tour boat operating out of Ayling’s. It was a tight fit.

The upper lock was warm, but with a nice breeze. The lower locks were an inferno of dead air and oppressive heat. The three staff down there seemed in the later stages of heat prostration after a hard day. Two weren’t wearing hats. I felt for them, but with a sudden crosswind and the crowded lock, they still had to be very much on the ball. Things went well, increasingly because of the alert crewing of Sean at the stern, and we pulled into Ayling’s to greet old friends and deliver the boat for a replacement engine.

The Rideau’s an exquisitely beautiful waterway. Each lock is a unique community and the Parks Canada crew couldn’t have been more helpful to us on this difficult voyage.