Houseboat Memories

The houseboat trip left us with some indelible memories.

Navigating the boat, which was always a shared endeavor ... 

Exploring the St. Lawrence -- part river, part lake, part seaway, with countless cute houses along the way, many of them perched precariously on cliffs or tiny islands ...

Swimming in the river -- sometimes floating peacefully, sometimes doing "laps" for exercise, but mostly jumping off the roof (usually trying to catch the football) ...

Ending each day with another gorgeous sunset ...

But most of all, I will cherish the time we spent relaxing, playing cards, chatting over cocktails, goofing around -- simply enjoying each others' company and being a family.

Day 7: Sugar Island to Gananoque to Home

By Patrick

Day 7 was far from idyllic. The day started very early; in fact, it started even before Mom and Dad’s previous day ended. When Mom and Dad went to get ready for bed, a little after midnight, Dad noticed sailboat anchored off to the west that had been out of view.  A little detective work soon made it obvious. Because of the high winds that had moved in from the south, we were dragging our anchors and slowly moving out of our protected little cove between Sugar Island and Match & Patch Island.

At that point, Matty and I were asleep on the front deck.  Mom and Dad, now experienced at handling adventures, woke us up (I apparently needed a few pillow blows to the head to get up) and told us to bring our sleeping bags and cushions inside because we were going to need to raise the anchors.  We went to lay down in the back bunks while Mom and Dad thought it out. I guess I fell sound asleep, because a half-hour later I was getting whacked with pillows again to get me up. With Dad at the wheel, the four big kids pulled up the mud filled anchors and we slowly reversed out of the cove. With strong winds coming from the south, we moved over behind Match & Patch Island and dropped both anchors.  (I did forget to mention that the three boys were doing all of this in our underpants.)  The wind was still blowing hard, but we seemed to be a little more sheltered.  That night Mom and Dad didn’t get too much sleep because they were on alert in case the anchors dragged. I, on the other hand, slept like a rock.

The claw anchor, in more
peaceful times

But Mom and Dad didn’t need to worry, because one of the anchors was certainly stationery, as Bridget and I found out next morning. With the hope of making 11 o’clock mass in Rockport, we woke up around 7 a.m. and gathered to lift the anchors. The wind was still blowing pretty hard and the boat was rocking sideways in the waves.  While Conor and Matty managed the 40-pound anchor, Bridget and I struggled to raise the 30-pound claw anchor, which felt like it weighed 60 pounds. The big anchor was filled with mud and seaweed, and Mom was busy trying to knock the junk off with the pole, while Conor and Matty held the anchor rope.  Once the big anchor was taken care of, all the kids grabbed the rope for the small anchor and hauled it up bit by bit on a one-two-three count.  When the anchor finally came into view, we had two surprises. The first surprise was a basketball-sized rock that was lodged in the spoon-like tongs of the anchor. The next surprise was an electrical cable that was lodged under the rock.  The wind was still blowing and Dad was putting the boat in forward and reverse to hold us in place.  As the kids held the anchor rope, Mom leaned over the front of the boat and tried to dislodge the rock with the pole.  Once she knocked the rock free, we then had to get the cable off the anchor.  Mom hooked the cable with the pole, and we lowered the anchor a little deeper into the water.  Dad threw the boat in reverse so that the anchor dragged in front of us, and then Mom dropped the cable.  We were free and on our way (and I think most of Canada still had electricity).  As Dad steered us away from the cliff and the kids tied up the anchor, Mom exclaimed “And it’s not even 8 o’clock yet!”

Expert deck hands,
docking the boat for the final time

After about an hour of motoring through a pretty heavy cross wind, we pulled safely up to the dock at the Houseboat Holidays marina. Then, Dad and Mom called a rare event: a family meeting. They were actually giving the kids a say in the run of the family. It is like North Korea holding honest public elections. There was bad weather forecast for the rest of the day (rain and thunderstorms), and so we needed to decide whether to stay.  All in all, the vote said that we would go to mass in Rockport, go out to lunch, and then head for home, skipping our last night on the river. We unpacked the houseboat, got everything into the car, and were all set to go with just enough time to make it to mass.  Then we had our final adventure: the car wouldn’t start. We called AAA, but that was going to take over an hour.  Then, just as the skies were opening up, the Houseboat Holidays owner, Pete, showed up and helped us jumped start our car.  We were a little wet and too late to get to mass, but we were on our way. We drove through rain, lightning, a border crossing, two rest stops, and lots of traffic, but nine-and-a-half hours later, we were home.

It was a great trip, full of adventure and fun, but it was good to be home and to have no worries of dragging anchors or driving winds (not that I did anyway).

Day 6: Leek Island to Sugar Island

By Michael

Day six was idyllic.  After five days, we had grown accustomed to the easy rhythm of houseboat life.  When I woke up at 7am (early for boaters), everyone else was asleep.  I took the computer, picked my way through the three boys who were fast asleep on the front deck, and climbed to the roof.  The sun was up and the air felt warm already.  Our houseboat sat in perfectly still waters in a picturesque little lagoon.  The silence was broken only by the occasional flapping of a bird’s wings or the rare splash from a jumping fish.  Peaceful.

(I later learned that I was not the first to arise.  Although he was now sound asleep, Patrick had been up before dawn to go fishing off the roof.  His enthusiasm for casting is matched only by his inability to catch anything larger than four inches long.)



"Yes, Katie, I promise I'll
shave before I get home.

Soon, the rest of the family was moving about.  The boys were taking their morning bath, Bridget was reading, Karen was taking pictures, and Molly joined me on the roof.  We had learned not to rush.  After a leisurely breakfast and swim, we raised the anchors, and headed down river to the day’s destination: a return to the cliffs off Sugar Island.

The hour-long drive (I don’t think that’s the right word) was familiar and took us through the Canadian Middle Channel, very close to the international border.  Patrick and Bridget took turns navigating and steering, while Matthew chilled and Conor talked to Katie on the phone.  Once we arrived at our destination, we rounded the small unnamed island that the kids had christened “Match & Patch Island” a few days before and found the area in front of the cliff to be unoccupied.  I maneuvered the boat into position, we dropped both anchors, and promptly jumped into the water to cool off. 



A relaxing swim?

The rest of the afternoon was spent alternately lazing about (playing solitaire, reading, floating on a noodle), exploring the nearby islands (Matthew and Patrick, doing their best impression of Lewis and Clarke – or perhaps Samuel de Champlain), exercising (all of us, swimming around Match & Patch Island), and high-adventure playing (most of us jumping off the cliffs). 

Our anchor spot seemed perfect.To the southwest was Sugar Island, to the northeast was the unnamed island with the cliffs, to the southeast were the rocks that we got hung up on during Day 2, and to the northwest was the Gananoque Channel.The anchorage was well sheltered from the prevailing winds, which usually come from the southwest.

The cliffs almost seem to have been made for jumping.  An easy scramble leads to the top, about 25 feet above the water.  The ledge at the top juts out slightly and the river below is at least 20 feet deep.  The only tricky part is that the ledge slopes downward right at the edge, making the footing seem precarious.  And then there is the height.  Looking at the cliff from the houseboat, it doesn’t seem too high.  But looking down from the top is a different story.  It’s high enough that no how much you think you want to jump, the deep, instinctual part of your brain – that part responsible for your survival – repeatedly says “don’t do it, don’t do it.”  So leaping into that void requires far more will power than I expected.  I jumped four times, and each time I had to force myself to do it.  Still, it was fun and exhilarating.

Bridget, about to make
another catch

Not content with just jumping, the kids turned it into a game that involved catching the football.  Needless to say, it’s not easy to catch a football while dropping like a stone.  But they somehow managed to do it more than once.  They also misfired many times, and the last misfire was a little nerve wracking.  I was watching from the houseboat as Bridget got set to jump.  Conor was the thrower; Matty was standing behind Bridget on the ledge.  As Bridget started to jump, she realized that the throw was too high.  She hesitated, then started to lose her balance, teetering for a moment on top of the ledge.  Fortunately, as her momentum carried her over the edge, she gathered her legs under her just enough to turn the fall into a jump.  She hit the water feet first, and came up calmly saying “I’m fine.”  I don’t know who was more relieved, Conor (who threw the ball) or Matty (who saw her go over the edge).  Most fortunately, Karen wasn’t watching!

The rest of the day was more relaxing – cocktails on the front deck, another swim because it was so hot, dinner on the roof in the light of another beautiful sunset, an after-dinner card game (Uncle’s Folly), and then bedding down for the night.  A nice breeze had picked up from the south, enough to blow the bugs away and convince the boys to bring the sleeping bags out to the front deck.  As the kids drifted off to sleep, Karen and I got out flashlights to read our books.  As midnight approached, I realized that Day 6 had been our first day without any mishaps or unduly exciting adventures – no broken docks, dragged anchors, or rock snags.  It had been a thoroughly relaxing day.  Then Day 7 began ….

The calm before the storm.

Day 5: Downie Island to Leek Island

By Matthew

We started the day anchored off Downie Island.  I am not sure if anyone has mentioned this yet, but this Downie Island is also mosquito heaven.  Houseboat Holidays conveniently supplied us with an orange flyswatter, and I used that thing to strike fear into the hearts of any mosquitoes that dared enter our boat.  These mosquitoes are very large and loved to land and stay on the ceiling and walls.  They are also very slow.  And, therefore, most of them are also very easy to kill.  Actually, over two nights at Downie Island, I killed 34 mosquitoes inside the houseboat with that flyswatter.

Anyway, after we woke up at Downie Island, we all bathed and ate breakfast.  Another good thing about this boat was that we could basically bathe whenever the boat wasn’t moving.  And for us guys, we could go to the bathroom whenever we wanted to as well.  Even when the boat was moving.  

After breakfast, the three boys got right back to business trying to complete the three-way football catch off the roof.  Here's one of our many unsuccessful attempts: 

By this time, that had happened something like fifty times.  But we were not going to give up.  And then, that morning, we did it.  Success!  I threw the ball to Patrick as he was jumping off the roof, Patrick threw it to Conor in mid-air, Conor caught the ball with both hands and heaved it backwards over this head, and the ball nestled right in my arms as I dropped into the water.

After our well deserved celebration, we headed off for Leek Island, where we had stayed the first night.  This time, however, the wind was going to be coming out of the south and east, so we had to change where we were going to anchor.  We found a nice little cove to stay in for the night, and it was close enough to swim to shore.

Dad actually took the raft and paddled to shore with our lunch and the camera in it.  We ate lunch on a little point, and then the kids explored the land around our boat.  It was a lot of woods, and I actually saw a deer running around.  Later on, Patrick and I went back and walked around to other coves and points, and we found another houseboat with a pirate flag on it.  After a relaxing dinner and a beautiful sunset, we played cards, and Conor somehow won.  It still shocks me.  It was another extremely relaxing day on the St. Lawrence.

Houseboating in the Thousand Islands

By Karen

Life in the houseboat has been remarkably similar to life in the RV.  Both types of vacations have been wonderful sources of family memories.  Here in the Thousand Islands, we are having a fabulous time swimming and jumping in the river while learning so much about living on the water. 

The houseboat is basically an RV camper surrounded by a walk-around deck and plopped on top of three pontoons with a 70 hp engine.  The boat is 48 feet long and about 15 feet wide.  There is a front and back deck each about four feet long and a one foot walkway along the sides.  Greatly expanding our living space is the flat roof deck which is accessible by a skinny ladder from the front deck. 

There are sleeping quarters for ten people – two double bunks with a single bunk over them, a bench/bed, a table that converts to a double bed, and another bench that converts to a double bed.  We have tons of storage space in the cabin underneath all the benches and bunks.  Thankfully the weather has been so nice that we really haven’t needed all the clothes that I made the kids pack – we are living in our bathing suits and simply switching from a wet suit to a dry one all day long.

One big difference between the houseboat and the RV is that Michael is not the only driver.  The big kids have all learned to drive the boat.  They are fairly comfortable at the helm and can deftly handle the wakes of the triple decker tour boats passing by.  The kids have instantly become terrific deck hands and handle the anchors and tying up to a dock like they have been doing this for years.

The nautical world has been a new adventure for us.  Our vocabulary has expanded and now includes port and starboard.  We have learned to keep the red buoys on our port/left and green buoys on our starboard/right while traveling down river (and vice versa when heading up river).  Reading nautical charts has been something new for the kids and they take turns being the “navigator.” With so many islands and rocks in the river, the navigating is both challenging and important.  Since we are in Canada, the depth is measured in meters. 

Life in the houseboat is more fluid than life in the RV.  What I mean by that is, we can boat to anywhere we want to go.  There are no roads limiting our direction on the water but rather suggested channels or waterways marked by buoys.  The deck hand with the binoculars reads the buoy marking which the navigator matches up with the mark on the chart.  But once you’re off the “waterway,” you have to keep track of which islands you are passing between to know where you are.  There is no GPS or radar system in the houseboat.  About twenty of the 1,800 islands are labeled with Canadian national park signs and those signs help confirm our location.  We can also explore any of the national park islands since the boat comes with a Canadian national park pass.  Needless to say, we do not motor at night.

Dining on the houseboat has been very similar to RV dining.  The kitchens are very similar, except the RV’s microwave has been replaced by an oven, and an outdoor grill on the front of the houseboat railing takes the place of our portable grill on the RV.  Circles around the campfire have been replaced by dinner on either the roof deck or front deck.

Thankfully, no one has gotten seasick.  Michael faithfully wears his seabands around his wrist and regretfully minimizes his alcoholic beverages.  The kids have boundless energy and have invented more “games” that involve jumping off the boat than I could have ever imagined.  For instance, float all four noodles near the boat and then see how many you can snag in one jump off the roof deck!  I have grown accustomed to the houseboat rocking as they jump off the roof over and over again.  I even faithfully videotaped every attempt the boys made at jumping off the deck while tossing the football to each other in mid-air. 

A simple fishing rod has occupied Patrick and Matty – our home-grown pirates!  Fish have no need to fear us but boaters beware of the houseboat flying the dreaded pirate flag we brought with us from Long Island.  They are a hoot!   Meanwhile, Bridget is plowing through books while Conor is texting and Molly plays solitaire.

Hauling up the anchors in the morning

Because we simply find a nice spot to anchor for the night, our interaction with locals has been rather limited.  Whereas the folks running campgrounds on our RV trips were very friendly and helpful, the few times that we have docked at a marina for refueling or “supplies,” our interactions have been somewhat limited.  Suffice it to say that the Canadians on land have been rather reticent in their responses to our admittedly naïve questions.  Then again, we have to remind ourselves that traveling in a rental houseboat probably makes us the dregs of the boating world.  Canadian boaters however have been friendly and helpful even though we don’t speak French.

Life on the houseboat is full of beautiful moments and adrenalin rushes.  The sunsets are priceless and the full moon has been so bright that you could almost read in bed without a light on.  The river is surprisingly clear and not as cold as I expected.  I have also been surprised at how quiet it can be in the middle of a still night – so still that I could hear a fish surfacing near the houseboat.  A slight breeze at night means that some of the kids sleep on the front deck.  A still night means that the mosquitoes have chased them inside and Matty can be found with a fly swatter in hand.  The adventures – adrift with our motor stuck in some rocks and a national park boat dock that broke while we were tied up to it – have revealed that no one in the family freaks out under pressure.  So far, the houseboat has been a terrific combination of beauty and adventure.  Above all, the family time has been priceless.

Day 4: Downie Island to Grenadier Island to Rockport to Downey

By Conor

On our fourth day on the river, the three boys woke up with a mission.  We were determined to complete a football trick that we had begun on the day before.  Each attempt begins with the three of us lined up on the roof of the houseboat.  The thrower throws the ball to the first man – standing the whole boat length from the thrower – who catches it in the air and throws it to the man in the middle.  The middle man catches the ball in the air and throws it over his head to the thrower, who catches it in the air as all three enter the water. 

We started this game yesterday.  I would love to tell you that we completed it on the first try, but we didn’t.  Nor the second.  Or third.  Or thirtieth.  In the hour or two we spent this morning attempting our football catch, we came close many times, but never completed it once.  Although dejected with our failure, we were consoled by our parents with the help of their tasty breakfast of eggs and potatoes they cooked for us. 

After our breakfast, we set sail east in search of a place to anchor.  Matty started out at the helm and I took over after an hour.  We scouted out a few different possible spots, but they all turned out to be less than ideal.  Finally, we came to a cove between three islands where we attempted to dock at a Canadian National Park on Grenadier island.  If you have never driven a 12-ton houseboat, I have to caution you this is most likely way more difficult than you think.  As I approached the dock, the wind and the shallow waters played havoc with my original plan.  We ended up trying to dock between a pier and an expensive motor boat.  With the help of the whole family placed strategically around the boat, I got us docked safe and sound, with only one little mishap.  (I did briefly terrify the French-Canadian owners of the motorboat.  As we were approaching their boat, Dad yelled "Hard reverse!," and I quickly threw the boat into "hard forward."  Oops.  But everyone survived.) 
We explored the one small trail of the national park and most of us got a nice workout in running up and down the hills.  When it came time to leave, however, Molly came in the houseboat and casually told us, “You know, this dock is broken.”  Not believing her, Dad reluctantly got up, only to find that we had indeed actually broken the dock.  The pier to which we were tied was quite literally hanging off its hinges.  Again, with an entire-family effort (and uthis time with some Canadians too), we released ourselves from the wrecked dock, tied it off so it didn’t float away, and left that godforsaken national park.  I don’t think you could get Mom to go back there again if you paid her. 

The next stop was Rockport, a small Canadian village, to refill our gas tank.  Dad successfully brought the boat in without incident – fortunately, there was a giant empty pier for us to aim at.  After some delicious ice cream cones and milkshakes, we were back on our way in search of a good place to anchor for the night.  We ended up all the way back where we began the day, our original anchoring spot off Downey Island.  Naturally, as soon as we anchored, the boys set off on our football conquest again, with similar results as the morning.  The only difference was this time we alternated which side of the boat we jumped off, so that the anchors (yes, we put down two anchors this time) wouldn’t drag.  We had dinner, attempted to take Christmas card photos (which mostly involved kids laughing and dad getting annoyed), played cards, and ended our fourth, and certainly most adventurous, day on the river.

Day 3: Sugar Island to Gananoque to the Navy Islands

By Molly [and Dad]

Day 3 started with the boys bathing in the river.  Then we had breakfast.  I had a Pop Tart, yum.  Next we got underway back to Gananoque to drop off Granny and Grandpa.  It took more than an hour, and the kids took turns driving the boat (but not me).  It was really fun to have Granny and Grandpa on the boat with us and it was sad to see them leave.  I had fun playing cards with Granny, and I was happy that Grandpa was on the boat when the engine got stuck on the rocks!

We stayed at the Marina for a while so that we could go running and shopping.  We also had to fill up with gas.  The other kids went running, and Mom, Dad, and I went to the supermarket.  Canadian supermarkets are pretty much like American supermarkets, except they have cool shopping carts and they don’t sell beer. When we got back from shopping, Mom and Dad went for a run, and the kids made lunch.  [I was happy that when we arrived back at the marina, the large dock was empty and so I was able to bring the boat in easily.  Later, we had to return to the marina because we forgot the camera in the car.  By then I was an expert and we were even able to turn the boat around in the narrow channel.]

Our Bagpiper, with his American
flag on the pipes.

Then we headed back out into the river and found a nice anchor spot near Downey Island.  We were surrounded by beautiful little islands that blocked the wind.  [We were in a cluster of Islands called the Navy Islands.] While we were having cocktails on the front deck, we suddenly heard the sound of bag pipes.  A man was marching back and forth on a dock on the other side of the bay and playing American songs.  [He began by playing the usual Irish bagpipe songs, then he launched into a George M. Cohan medley (Yankee Doodle Dandy, You’re a Grand Old Flag), and finished with Amazing Grace.  He played for about fifteen minutes while he marched up and down his dock.  The sound echoed across the bay and was quite remarkable.  It was also a lovely accompaniment to our cocktails]  When the bagpiper finished, we clapped and honked the boat’s horn.

Then Mom prepared dinner and we ate it on the roof.  [The houseboat has an oven and Karen managed to make baked ziti.] After dinner, we watched a pretty sunset.  Then the boys invented a game that included all three of them jumping off the roof at the same time and trying to catch the football.  They did it so many times that it dragged the anchor and we got a lot closer to an expensive sailboat that was anchored behind us.  Then we went to bed and had a good sleep. 

[The kids might have had a good sleep, but Karen and I were up every hour to check that we weren’t getting any closer to the sailboat.  Fortunately, it was a beautiful night, the wind was light, and we didn’t move.]

Day 2: Leek Island to Sugar Island

By Bridget
Day 2 didn’t start out as early as Day 1, and we figured out that boating people on the St. Lawrence aren’t early risers. The wind had picked up during the night, but fortunately, we hadn’t moved anywhere. After breakfast and a little fishing, we headed toward Sugar Island, where Buzz had told us there were cliffs we could jump off. We got to Sugar Island with Dad, Grandpa, and Conor taking turns driving the boat, and we found the perfect anchor spot that Buzz had recommended.

The first thing we did was explore Sugar Island and another smaller island with the cliffs that Buzz had told us about. Immediately after Matty and Patrick stepped foot on the island, they declared it Match & Patch Island. Bridget, Molly, and Conor explored the island by raft and even found an old houseboat ladder. After checking out the cliffs on Match & Patch Island, we decided it was too dangerous to jump off because we didn’t know how deep the water was below the rocks. But that was before we saw some Americans from the American Canoe Association jump off the highest point of the cliff and not get hurt. And so after Mom, Dad, Bridget, and Conor swam a lap around Match & Patch Island, some of us decided to try jumping off the cliff. Now, the cliff doesn’t really look that high up when looking at it from the water, but once you get to the edge of the cliff and look down, it’s scary how high up you are. The cliff is actually really, really high, which means that it’s a really, really long way down to the water. In fact, it takes you so long to get to the water that there is time to ask yourself why you are doing this, then regret jumping off, and then brace yourself for impact.

Dad was the first one to jump off the cliff.  Then Conor, Patrick, and I jumped off twice.  Then we all had lunch and a few hours to do whatever we wanted. Some of us napped, some of us read, and some of us fished. Patrick even proved some of us wrong and finally caught a fish after two days of trying.  (Ok, it was only four inches long). A couple hours before sunset Mom and Dad ventured out on the raft with Dad manning the oars and took some pictures of the five kids and Granny and Grandpa on the houseboat. Then it was back to the cliff to jump off again, but this time we took the football. Our first strategy was that one person would jump off the rock and as they were falling to the water another person would throw the football to them. After that failed we tried a second strategy. This time the thrower would throw the football before the catcher jumped, and the catcher caught the football as they were falling. We made the first catch of the day using this strategy. I was the first person to catch the football jumping off the cliff, after a nice throw from Conor. Patrick was the only other person who caught the ball, which was thrown by Conor right after the first completion.

This is me about the catch the football.

The is the "six guns" pulling up the
achor in the morning.  We actually didn't
take any pictures during the adventure.

After a fun and exhausting day we all prepared to eat a yummy dinner cooked by Mom and to have a relaxing evening – or so we thought. While Grandpa, Matty, and Patrick were sitting down with their dinner on the front deck, they noticed that we were unusually close to the shore. They then realized that we were dragging the anchor and as they shouted this to the rest of the boat we all heard (and felt) the boat hit some rocks. The wind had picked up a lot and had dragged the anchor of the houseboat until the engine got hung up on rocks. While on the rocks, we realized that we were stuck because the anchor and the motor were keeping us on the rocks. Then Grandpa decided that the first thing to do was to deal with the anchor, so Patrick, Matty, and Grandpa (a group later called the “six guns”) pulled the anchor while Dad revved the motor.  The boat spun around, but we still couldn’t move because the motor was wedged on the rocks. We then tried to pull the motor up but couldn’t figure out how to because it had a lot of confusing buttons and such on it. After trying different efforts to get out of the rocks, Mom decided to call Houseboat Holidays for help. While Mom was on the phone, Grandpa suggested that we could get into the water and push the houseboat out. So the “six guns” (Patrick, Matty, and Grandpa) jumped out of the houseboat and used their muscles to push the off of the rocks. Fortunately for the “six guns,” they all managed to jump on the boat before Dad gunned the engine.

Once we were clear of the rocks we had to decide where to anchor, and Dad decided to go back to the anchor spot we were in before the whole adventure with the rocks. So we looped back to our original spot and dropped two anchors instead of one. Just then, the storm arrived and it started pouring.  Fortunately, the anchors held.  Then we finally enjoyed our delicious dinner and went to bed, hoping that we had already had our one adventure of the trip.

Day 1: Home to Gananoque to Leek Island

By Patrick

Our trip to the Thousand Islands region started off with an early wakeup call at 5:40 a.m.  We left Rugby Road around 6 o’clock with an ETA of 12:30 p.m.  Not wanting to waste any of the six-and-a-half-hour drive, the five kids started the first movie of The Lord of the Rings at around 6:30 a.m. We would end up watching a little more than half of the second movie until we came rolling through customs.  There, a serious Canadian guy with a bullet-proof vest questioned Mom.  Fortunately, he failed to notice that in the back, Conor had his sunglasses on upside-down and had a pillow on top of his head while sticking his tongue at the officer’s face.  When the border guy asked “Do you have any animals on board?,” it took some self control for Mom to say “no.”  We crossed the border smoothly and were soon on our way.

As we pulled into Houseboat Holidays in Gananoque, we were all eagerly searching for our boat, and found it, with Pop already sitting on the deck reading a newspaper and drinking a beer. After unpacking the car, packing the houseboat, blowing up the raft, getting fishing and boating licenses, and getting a run-down of the houseboat and the Thousand Islands region from our man Buzz (a Houseboat Holiday employee), we were ready to go with our bathing suits on and shirts off already. With Buzz piloting the boat, the boys pushed off the dock and we headed out into the river.  Soon Buzz was departing and we were out of the marina while cruising to our first destination.

Once we got into the St. Lawrence River we realized – there are a lot of islands.  So it took us a while to figure out the chart and the distances between islands (in other words, we were lost until Dad pulled out his iPhone and used the GPS to figure out where we were).  We eventually found our destination – Leek Island – and then found a suitable spot to drop anchor. Once we were anchored, it was time for Matty and me to break out the pirate flag, and time for Grandpa to break out the gimlets.

Although we weren’t completely sheltered from the wind, our spot was perfect.  We could swim to shore and we could see the sunset. So, we swam, we jumped off the roof to catch the football, we used the raft to go ashore, and we relaxed in the water before we ate a dinner of brats and macaroni salad. We then went for another swim and watched the beautiful sunset. As the sun went down, the moon rose and was very bright. With Conor and Grandpa settling down in their sleeping bags outside, the rest of us went to our own beds and turned in for the day. It was a great day full of fun and thankfully, no unwanted adventures, at least, for now.

Day 0: Packing

By Michael

It's been four years since the kids gathered around Molloy at the end of our cross-country 
RV trip ...

... and two years since we took the RV to the Southeast ...

... and we're hitting the road again.   

You'll notice that there's no RV in the background this time.  That's because our "RV" will be a houseboat on the St. Lawrence River.  We're heading to Canada tomorrow to pick up our "RV on pontoons" for a week of touring around the Thousand Islands.  It should be an adventure.