Onward to Erie on Lake Erie

[Kyle]It took us several days of being anchored on the Niagara River before a small window of crosswinds appeared within days and days of light headwinds for the next leg to Erie, Pensylvania (PA).

Everything was going great at first. With nice, flat seas, we were chugging along smartly on a close reach. We had planned and prepared for an overnight sail, but our ETA was saying that if we could keep this up, we might actually make it there before dark. Even if the wind died down a bit, we should still be in just after midnight.

Usually, when Maryanne and I are doing anything other than a day sail, we automatically fall into our tried-and-true offshore watch routine. This time, since the sail would likely be barely more than a watch each, we decided to be less formal about it and just have a short nap along the way while the other one does the sailing. Since I was up first, I took the first nap. When Maryanne woke me to tell me that she was starting to get tired, it was basically time for her usual watch.

Instead of having only twenty miles left to go, Maryanne reported that just after I went to sleep, the wind had died and then turned into an unforecast direct headwind. She made a ninety-degree turn towards the U.S. shore, had just tacked and was now halfway to the next tack on the Canadian side. Instead of being three-quarters of the way between the Niagara River and Erie, we were now only about a third. We would be lucky to get there by the following sunset. It would now be too much of an adjustment to assume our normal watches, so we just swapped. It was interesting to see things from her perspective, but I think we both agreed afterward that we preferred the watches we have each been doing for years.

The bugs keep following us... Grrrrrrrr These ones are a chironomid, known locally as 'Mufflehead', but eventually we have Erie in sight and new bugs stop arriving

After getting a close look at both countries from several different places, we finally made it to Erie just before the marina was about to shut for the day. We were there mainly to get a required periodic rig inspection for our insurance company, but we also needed to do a big load of laundry and provision for the rest of the summer.

The job I was both dreading and dying to do in equal measure was cleaning the exterior of the boat. We had the stuck-on remains of our Niagara fly plague, plus a whole new swarm of a different type of fly that we had picked up just before we arrived. Since there wasn’t enough time to do the job in what was left of the first day, we decided to get off the boat and treat ourselves to a meal out so we don’t have to try to eat at home while looking out at the fly-speckled decks through the windows.

When we returned from the restaurant, I was pleased to see a whole family of THE BEST cute little birds helping themselves to the smorgasbord on our decks. When I emerged the next morning, Begonia looked as clean as a dinner plate licked by a dog. They were wrapping up by picking the little carcasses out of hard-to-get-to areas like the seams in the bimini and the folds of the sails. I LOVE these birds. It reminded me of our first landfall in the Marquesas when the local fish removed all of the gooseneck barnacles before I had a chance to don mask and fins and go overboard with a scraper.

To be honest, Erie, Pennsylvania is not actually that interesting of a town. For sailors, it is one of the nicest destinations on Lake Erie, but I think my real attachment to the place comes from umpteen overnight layovers as a commuter pilot. I gradually took a liking to the best parts of the place over the years to where now I feel a certain excitement at 'being back" on this latest visit.

Of course, so much has changed that it could be any smallish city to which I have never been. However, the Plymouth Tavern (popular with flight crew) is still there and still as great as ever, but everything else was pretty much new to both of us.

{Maryanne:Kyle forgot to mention the great library, and, of course, the renowned Maritime Museum, which we visited for a second time while there. We are all caught up now on our history of the war of 1812 and its ship battles between the USA and the Brits in Lake Erie. We made several attempts to get some basic medical checkups done (and failed), but we did get our vaccination top ups that we wanted (and which our "insurance" didn't cover)}

Our rig check went okay, as expected. The rest of the time we filled with the usual chores of laundry and provisioning for the rest of the summer in the boonies. In this, we were greatly assisted by Neil, the local Towboat U.S. Captain. While he was on call at the marina, he offered to rent us his Jeep for the day for well under what the rental car companies wanted. It was the usual long, frustrating day of doing a bunch of necessary tasks that neither of us likes, culminating in tearing the boat apart to make room for hundreds of pounds of new groceries. In the end, we were tired enough that we neither wanted to eat aboard or walk to a restaurant. The nearest Mexican restaurant was pretty good, though, so eventually we decided to refuel there.

We found time for fun and chores - AND the most amazing desert pizza EVER at the U-Pick-6 Tap House

Becoming a Sailboat Again

[Kyle]Well, the fun is over. The time had come for us to move Begonia to Wardell's Boatyard to put our mast back up. Before we had even stopped, Dennis Wardell came out and told us to turn the boat around (contrary to what he had told us earlier) and get rid of the fenders, they make the boat too far away for the crane. We had only been there a minute and already, my hackles were up.

After spinning the boat around, and taking a big chunk out of the gelcoat with a protruding bolt, I was really having to bite my tongue at all the advice flying our way.

We had the mast moved from its cradles on the boat to stands on the dock and began installing the new forestay

Our previously agreed plan was that we were going to move the mast from Begonia's deck and then put it on stands for the rest of the day while I build the new forestay, assemble the furler and we get everything ready to go. The next day, Dennis was going to hire a helper so we would be ready to step the mast first thing. Then Maryanne and I would take the boat somewhere to finish the job of tensioning the rig, attaching the boom and sails and connecting the wiring.

Dennis (Denny to his friends) now told us his guy was coming today, so we were going to step the mast now. When I told him we had no forestay or furler yet, he looked as annoyed as I felt and then told me I'd better get on with it. I wasn't about to rush such an important job, but it did get moved to next on my list.

Wardell's is one of those places that is held together with duct tape and bailing wire. Knowing this, I should have had my guard up as I was lining up all the parts I needed for the furler/forestay combination. On my third trip or so, I stepped on a piece of rotten wood and my right leg went right through the dock, folding me up on top of my left. That was a shock. Must remember to walk on the nail heads, where the planks are fastened to the beam below... Maryanne went right away to tell the owner of the problem and give him a chance to fix it, Dennis did indeed come and take a look, but just shrugged and complained that the winters don't treat the docks well around here.

{Maryanne:Wardell's is the only option we know of to step/restep the mast at this end of the canal. When we were there last, it was just as poorly maintained. There is rotting and wobbly planks all over the dock, along with sheets of metal barely covering some larger gaps between the land and the dock, it's definitely a place where you need to take care. Even the crane they use has heavily rusted areas (and holes) in what look like some critical joints so I can't imagine the place will be there for much longer. When it does finally close down I'm not sure how sailboaters will be able to step/restep their masts without motoring many extra miles to/from alternative yards on Lake Erie itself. Being the only choice, however, it is also able to charge more than the yards at the other end of the canal.}

By the time Dennis and his assistant, Craig, were back from lunch (we skipped it), we were finally ready to make the horizontal mast vertical and put it in the middle of the boat. That went about as well as could be expected. The only hitch came when Craig came around to help us move the furler out of the way of the crane hook. I told him a couple of times to mind the hole, as did Maryanne, when he got nearer. I think in all the commotion, he must have thought we were talking to someone else, because he stepped right on the remnant of the plank I had gone through earlier and then he went through, all the way to his waist. He was clearly more miffed (and hurt) than I was, but Dennis was his boss. Once we got Craig back on his feet and dusted off, Dennis fixed the problem by throwing a piece of old damp plywood over the whole mess.

Craig kindly recorded the whole process in a time-lapse video

Once the mast was up with the stays connected, we noticed there were a few problems up there with the way the lines were led, which in the rush to get the mast up, we had neglected to sort out. To be honest, I would've been surprised if nothing had been amiss. That would be too easy.

Once I had the rig at the proper tension, I went up and sorted it all out to the obvious amusement of the drivers going over the bridge next to us as I looked down at them. Then it was time to manhandle the boom into place, which requires an irritating amount of delicate fiddling, while bearing half its weight, to get the bolt and washers lined up.

Once the mast was secure, Kyle 'got' to ascend the mast to unthread the halyards that had been led through the diamond stays for transit

After we both finally looked at each other and conceded that we were each too tired to do much else, we called it a day. It was two blocks to the shower complex, during which we both groaned and limped our way. Our reward was ten seconds of hot water followed by standing in a mountain brook during winter.

Once we were clean, which was by far our biggest need at the time, we suddenly realized we were really hungry for what I guess was technically breakfast. Taking the time to cook and then clean up afterwards was out of the question, so we picked a restaurant for dinner based entirely on proximity.

We got to Mooney's just as they were starting Quiz Night, but too late to join in. That turned out to be okay, because the only question we knew the answer for was: What is the capital of Tasmania? That one would have doubled our whole score of zero!

Mooney's is also at least locally famous for their many varieties of macaroni and cheese. I figured I would have some. When the server asked me if I wanted the sampler or the entrée, I picked entrée. After all, this was my first real meal of the day. Once again, I was burned by the lack of a "serves four to six" footnote on the menu. The thing came served in a bigger container than we even have on Begonia. It was as if Maryanne had put the entire pressure cooker on the table in front of me and then followed it up with a full salad bowl. I was honestly surprised when I got to the halfway mark, even more so when the rest followed it down. I'm turning into a real cardiologist's nightmare.

Kyle was shocked at the portion size, but did manage to eat all of his Mac 'n Cheese

Dennis (his friends call him Denny) Wardell had hinted that someone else was coming to use the dock in the morning. We had seen enough of the place that we were more than happy to oblige and get out before he opened for the day.

Maryanne found us an anchorage just five miles away in the Niagara River, about halfway to Buffalo, New York, where we would be able to have some privacy finishing the job of putting Begonia back like she had been in the Hudson.

The mast and boom were in place, which was the bulk of the work for sure, but we still needed to connect all the wiring and bend the sails and sail cover on. These are normally just irritatingly time-consuming jobs, since the wiring is buried underneath our settee in a tiny space I have dubbed "the coffin" and the mainsail needs to be attached to the mast with actual tools. How I miss the simplicity of our first boat, where I could take the main down, off, and have it stowed in the cabin before the squall hit.

Today, though, my back was really playing up, which was making the outcome of each task seriously in doubt. I'm not sure if it was lifting the boom, climbing the mast or falling through Wardell's dock, probably all three, but I was not at 100%. The injury is irritating and weirdly specific. For example, I can lift anything, so long as I'm careful not to twist while doing so, but setting an empty can down on the floor is pretty much impossible. I did 100 push-ups with no problem, but it took me three minutes to get off the floor after trying a single sit-up.

Maryanne was worried about me, but I was pretty sure I could handle my time in the coffin without too much trouble. I was doing great until the part where I have to do a little sit-up to get out. I thought for a moment that I was going to have her pull me out, or just stay there the rest of the day, but once I got up on one elbow, I could finish the rest of the extraction. The mainsail didn't turn out to be as bad as I expected because I had a lot of options in finding positions that didn't hurt so much to deal with the bulk. By the end of the day, we were a proper sailboat again.

Installing the sails - almost there!

The next day, our weather window to Erie, Pennsylvania vanished into bad thunderstorms. Our spot in the Niagara River was about as protected from the weather as anywhere else in the area, so we decided to stay put, keep checking the weather and jump on the first opportunity to leave.

In the meantime, we were invaded by a plague of what the locals call sandflies. These are not the biting midges we know as sandflies in the rest of the world, but actually a caddisfly. They don't bite, fortunately (the adults don't even have mouthparts!), and seem to have no interest in us whatsoever. They do fill the air and cover every surface so much that it's not possible to be outside without inadvertently getting a mouthful of them. Luckily, it's still cool enough generally to not be sweltering in the cabin. Plus, the wrap-around windows allow us to still feel like we're able to see all of the goings-on outside.

The Tree Swallows were able to feast and not make a dent in the swarms of caddisflies. It was NOT fun to be working outside so Maryanne prepared a batch of gelcoat inside (not a good idea!)

We are hoping the same rain that closed the weather window to Erie will discourage them, but we may have to brave some of them as we sail on. Hopefully, they will thin out the further we get from land.

A side trip to Niagara Falls (USA Side)

[Kyle]Before we got down to Mast Stepping Day, which we were looking forward to with about 30% anticipation and 70% dread, Maryanne decided we should have a day of fun at Niagara Falls, just a 20 minute drive away from where we were docked in North Tonawanda.

Now I know Niagara Falls has a certain reputation for being tacky and relentlessly commercialized, like Atlantic City, New Jersey or Blackpool, only with a better backdrop, but the falls themselves really are an objectively splendid wonder of nature. Back when I had a job, I usually made it a point to do a couple of circuits around them each way before landing in Buffalo, New York, so that passengers on both sides of the plane could see them. Sometimes, it's good to be the Captain. That was always a crowd pleaser and I never heard any grumbling about the extra ten minutes added to the flight.

Maryanne and I had been once before at ground level (the rim), on the Canadian side. We didn't stay long, but found it was nice if we faced the gorge and kept the casinos and hotels behind us.

This time, we took a short car ride to the American side. I am surprised to say that the Americans have done a way better job of showcasing the natural beauty of the area than the Canadians, which was the opposite of what I would have guessed.

This wasn't always the case, of course. Early American industrialism pretty much ruined the falls with smoke-belching factories. This caused several prominent figures, including Mark Twain, John Muir and Frederick Law Olmsted (the creator of Central Park) to demand their removal and the restoration of the area to as close to its original state as possible. Now, the falls on the American side are all New York State Park land, whereas the Canadian side is all private property. That is why the American side as crisscrossed with walking trails while the Canadian side is full of skyscraping hotel complexes.

The Canadians are widely regarded as having the better views as most of the falls face that side. The cool thing about the American side is that most of the water heading for the falls runs through it. Maryanne and I had a lovely walk along the river watching huge volumes of water accelerate toward the falls.

Exploring the park lands on Goat Island, we didn't really need the signs suggesting we do not enter the water - it was already WILD

Our first touristy thing we did was the Cave of the Winds tour. The cave has since been eroded away, but the gist is an elevator ride down to the base of Bridal Veil, over which about ten percent of Niagara's water plunges. Despite being issued ponchos as part of the package, all uncovered areas, like our legs, were completely drenched within the first few seconds. Despite all that, it was great fun to be standing under part of the torrent.

Cave of the Winds attraction sends the tourists down an elevator to the foot of the Bridal Veil falls, where we could then opt to get as close and wet as we wished via the red wooden walkways (and a great chance to see the Ring-beak gulls with their chicks)

Next up was a trip on Maid of the Mist. Again, the Americans did a splendid job. Their new boats are all-electric and super-maneuverable with rotating thrust pods. The boats can be completely recharged in seven minutes during the boarding process. The boat took us so far into the deluge coming over the falls that we completely abandoned any hope of photography as the air was so filled with water. The wind buffeted us around so much that the ponchos everyone had been issued only kept random spots dry underneath. By the time we were done, we were soaked and a little cold, but wearing big smiles.

Maid of the Mist tours have been running since 1846 - now-a-days (since 2019) the boats are electric allowing us to exprience the full roar of the waterfalls and boiling waters

The various information centers were all closed, being renovated and upgraded, the cafe too. We wanted to do a bit of walking. A ranger recommended a bakery (DiCamillo's) a couple miles away along the ridge trail, so that seemed like a good aiming point. We were ready for some lunch.

Maryanne continues to enjoy the bird sightings (wherever we are)

A peaceful trail took us to some great views, an unexpected elevator ride at the Schoellkopf power station, and a great local bakery

It was well off the beaten path in a sleepy little town. We thought we would have the place to ourselves, but as we got closer, we noticed two mini busses parked outside. We opened the door and it was pandemonium as fifty people all tried to buy a takeout lunch in time to leave with their bus in five minutes.

When our turn came, the staff were friendly, but clearly harried. I could see the poor guy at the register wondering how he was going to fill our order in the next thirty seconds, since we were last. The busses were almost full. When they left and he realized we were just a couple of regular old walk-in customers, the strain drained from his face. Since we weren't demanding everything at once, they would be happy to bring an item at a time to our table. Despite the initial tourist throngs, the place really was incredible. Generations of Italian immigrants with a passion for baking delicate, flaky things filled the store with all sorts of delectables. We wanted to try everything, but at the same time were really glad for our waistlines that we didn't live down the street.

We got a car home and decided it had been a long enough day to not be in the mood for cooking. We both think we have been overdue for a good Chinese meal, but there was a Korean/Thai place even closer, so we went for that. The food was pretty good. The owner was friendly and after a bit of chitchat, we learned that they'd only been open for a year, and that he and his wife were from Burma (when it was called that). When we asked how the Thai/Korean menu came about, he explained that his wife had been a chef back in Burma (now called Myanmar) and those cuisines were her specialty.

Before I went to pay, I researched how to say "Thank you very much" in Burmese. At the register, I tried it out on him, expecting surprise or something. I mean, how much Burmese do you get to hear in North Tonawanda? Instead, he just said, "Oh, you're very welcome".