Houseboatin'

Houseboatin'

Now I have written a couple of blog entries about piloting the houseboat for Regis and the girls, and I hope you have enjoyed them, but it really was an interesting vacation, and for anyone interested, I will tell you something about it, in case you might want to give it a try.

Lots of Room for Everyone

The houseboat itself is large, comfortable, and easy to maneuver. I have never really driven a bpat before and I really did not have any problem. You can pilot it from inside if the weather is less than perfect, but if it is sunny and warm, there is a second bridge up on the 'hottub' deck. Although the boat is like a big RV on the water, it is outfitted with a real household refrigerator, stove and microwave. The kitchen is large and easy to work in with lots of cupboards. The bathroom is a real bathroom with an RV style toilet, but a full size shower and sink complete with vanity. There is a couch and a large dining table that both convert to LARGE beds, and as you read, the girls really did have room to line dance in the living room. There were two bedrooms and a sleeping loft, so with the beds in the living area this boat slept 10 with no problem, and sitting nine at the table worked well. We saw another boat that slept 14 that had four bedrooms and two bathrooms (Only one shower however). There was a hottob on the top deck, as well as lots of room to sit around and talk or heaven forbid, square dance. There is a large flatscreen TV and excellent sound system in the living room, and a car type stereo up stairs so your collection of music on the Ipod or Phone is easy to play. There is a slide from the top deck into the water that would have been used if the water was warmer – it looked like fun. And there is a full size barbecue on the front deck.

Come on board . . .

The boat worked well. It has a 3.0 litre inboard engine that started easily with little fuss, and pushed us along at houseboat speed. This means that nothing shifted, you could put your coffee or glass of wine on the counter and even turns did not move it. It is a dual hull pontoon boat so is amazingly stable. Even one morning steaming up river at full speed with a strong wind and whitecaps, we lost water out of the hot tob but not out of the wine glasses inside. The slow speed and stability means that even those susceptible to motion sickness forget they are on the water. The boat uses a battery and generator system and is completely automatic. Regular electric appliances work just fine, and you do not have to worry about using lights or power. When needed the generator comes on and recharges the batteries. They pull water from the river and treat it internally for cooking and showers, and it is then put back into the river so you have no holding tank filling up even with a crowd, and the septic held enough so that even with nine people for almost a week we had no problem.

Underway up the River

The Saint John River, above the Mactaquac dam is your highway, and you can go as far up river as Woodstock. There are some activities to do along the river such as Kings Landing and Trees to Go, but the main activity is the houseboat itself. The scenery up and down the river is beautiful, especially in October with the leaves changing colour when I went, but I suspect any season would have it's own unique benefits. The relaxing speed of the boat and the comfortable setting with good friends make the voyage the best part of the experience.

It is not an inexpensive vacation if you were going on your own, but probably compatible to renting an RV, but put together a group of family or good friends to share the cost and you can have a really reasonable adventure.

Writing the Blog

As I write this, I am sitting on the back deck of the boat in October. I am sitting in a lawn chair typing on my Macbook with a cold beer beside me. I pulled into a little cove at about 4:00 pm , tied up to two sturdy trees and it is now almost 7:00 pm, the sun is going down and I'm watching the river flow gently past. Life is good.

Kindness Of Strangers (New Brunswick)

 

Did you read my entry on the kindness of strangers? Well it happens in New Brunswick too.

Friendly Houseboats in Nackawic

Regis had everything carefully arranged, and she found a pub that we could have supper in when we got to Nackiwick New Brunswick, which was as far as we were going up the river. We pulled into a nice spot right in the beautiful waterfront park in the town, and soon after we got settled, another houseboat pulled in as well right beside us. We exchanged pleasantries, and discovered that they were actually from just down the road. Now one advantage of making friends with the locals is that they quickly gave an opinion about our dining choices, and suggested that since they didn't eat at the pub, suggested we give it a pass as well, and when we found out that the pub food is not prepared on site but ordered from the Pizza joint next door, their advice sounded wise. This left us with a dilemma . . . . what to do for supper?

The kindly Padre Ginny met at the grocery store suggested a couple of places across the river, and said he was willing to drive us over even though it would take a couple of trips, but he couldn't bring us back because he had a meeting. Nackawic does not have a Taxi, and since one of the members was suffering from an injury (hiking, not alcohol induced) the 20 minute walk was out of the question.

Our New Friends

As we discussed our options up on the Lido deck, our Houseboat neighbours overheard, and once more came to the rescue. Although they had come here in the houseboat, they had a vehicle at their house and were only too happy to take us to one of the 'approved' restaurants. They said that we were in New Brunswick now, and people were just willing to help out here.

From Their Boat

Oh, we finally decided on Chinese take-out recommended by our Houseboat neighbours and they took Regis across the river to pick it up. We did spend a very enjoyable evening sharing our take-out dinner with them, but they brought a very handy bar size liquor dispenser and chocolate bars for desert. Another example of the “Kindness of Strangers”. Way to go New Brunswick!

The Captain Does not SQUARE DANCE!

Out On The River

When I volunteered for this trip, I promised to stay out of the way and not interfere with the “Girls” fun week on the houseboat. I went so that none of them had to worry about being 'responsible' for driving the boat. Besides, I really wanted to drive the houseboat.

What is rockin the boat?

I quickly discovered that just driving was not that easy. The 'bridge', such as it is, is right in the main cabin next to the dining room, so you don't get a nice quiet 'bridge' to pilot the boat. Now there are advantages to this. Your coffee comes quickly in the morning, and when the boat starts rocking badly in perfectly calm water, you do not have to go look for the problem, you can see that it is just the line dancing going on in the living room - when all eight of them sashay one way the boat does tend to participate in the dance.

Tying up the boat

I also discovered that the captain's duties do go beyond just steering the boat (Silly me . . . ). I discovered that my 'deck hands' were actually more of the 'deck fluff' variety and it was me that had to jump ashore when we chose a spot to stop for the night and tie the boat to a couple of sturdy trees. They were willing to throw the ropes to me but balked at jumping ashore to do the actual tying. When the table wouldn't come apart at bedtime to convert to a bed, I had to do it, and of course when the hot tub sploshed out in the wind, I was on deck to fill it again and get the temperature up to the suggested 110° required by Karen.

Square Dancing on the Lido

I did draw the line in the sand (We were actually pulled up on a lovely sandy beach in Nackawic) when I was asked to take part in Sharon's impromptu Square Dance lessons that started up on the 'Lido' deck because they couldn't convince the attractive EMO guys to come back and fill in for Elayne's bruised rib they were asked to attend to.

The captain DOES NOT SQUARE DANCE!

Boating With The Girls

Boating with the Girls

Ok, now retirement is all about finally having the time to try new things, challenge yourself, take chances and test your limits. Well, my latest adventure was probably my most adventurous. Regis, always looking for interesting things to do, found an advertisement in a 'tourist' magazine for a houseboat rental on the Saint John River. Now some of her ideas don't go very far, but this one proved popular and in no time she had nine girlfriends willing to go with her.

The Captain at work

I don't know what I was thinking, but I suggested that I would go along to drive the boat so they could all 'party' without having to worry about a “Designated Driver”. If it has an engine and a throttle I want to try to drive it, and since I liked the narrow boat in England I thought this would be fun. I should have realized when no one tried to talk me out of it that I might be in trouble. After all I had been in the house during their “serious” book clubs (I didn't know that much wine was involved with reviewing novels), and I had heard about some of their “get-a-ways” in Cape Breton. This wasn't one group, it was a combination of three groups, a book club, a Monday coffee group and some family & friends thrown in for good (or bad) measure.

Line Dancing on the Boat

Now I have never piloted a boat. In England I was designated “Engineer”, and Master Mariner Brother-in-law handled the difficult piloting duties, but he did let all interested parties a chance to man the tiller, and I only hit one other boat during my turns, and Regis was assured by the company that it wasn't difficult to pilot the boat, so I figured I could handle it. It was in the wide part of the river above the dam, and it was off season so I could learn to drive the boat without endangering other mariners too much. I even went so far as to take my 'Pleasure craft boating licence'. The interesting thing was that I worried about getting the licence and didn't really think about actually piloting the boat, but once I actually passed the test and had a piece of paper in my hand that said I could actually legally drive the boat, I started to think about all they things I didn't know. Which side is starboard again, where do you get fuel, how big was the holding tank going to have to be with nine girls wanting a shower every morning, where were we supposed to tie up every night . . . . . .

Sharing the fun

No problem, the “Boat Rental Folk” gave me a 10 minute course and when he asked if I knew about piloting a boat , and I said I had only helped with a narrow boat in England, but had driven RVs and trucks, he said “No Problem, you'll be fine!”

Walking the Plank

Actually it is pretty easy, and the boat is well suited to the river. It is an aluminium pontoon boat and I was told to just run it gently ashore, tie it to two trees and all would be good. It is no speed boat and you don't need worry about fuel, oil or even water. Back out, point it where you want to go and keep it steady until you get to the next night's mooring.

Filling the Hot Tub

And the “girls” genuinely appreciated my sacrifice and I was waited on and thanked by everyone for driving them. As I write this, we are safely tied up in a little cove along the river. The boat is nosed into the shore just like I was told to do it, and as I write this, the boat is rocking to line dancing. Now it is only the first day . . . . . . .

All Alone in St. Pierre

We went out for dinner on the first evening here on St. Pierre. The restaurant was right around the corner, one of many in the town within walking distance of our hotel. There was no one in the restaurant, except the server and us, but we were early so I didn't think anything of it, especially since the chef walked in dressing his street clothes a few minutes later. I could almost imagine the server slipping into the back room after seating us and calling his home . . . "Some crazy English tourists are here for dinner; come quick!". It did get a little better later, with a young couple dropping in for drinks and another English couple for dinner, but that was it. On the upside, we did chat with everyone there - you can't do that when the restaurant is full.

Leaving the restaurant at about 8:00 pm we exited to empty streets. Not a person anywhere; not a car on the streets; complete silence. It was like aliens had beamed up the entire population. We walked back to the hotel in complete and utter silence. We met no one, and heard nothing but the wind. It was odd, and a very little bit eerie, but we figured that there was a hurricane bearing down on this little French colony, so perhaps everyone was hunkering down indoors. We were told the next day that it was the day before school started, so everyone was home early getting ready for an early evening. WOW, in the cities I'm used to, the teenagers would be out for one final night of freedom before a year of school. Talk about culture shock! I should have been teaching here.

Overnight the hurricane came and went, leaving the island relatively unscathed, so when the sun came out at 10:00 we set out for a walk. Eventually we found a paved road leading out of town into the hills and decided to explore. We were gone for over three hours and saw one car and met no one on the road or the trails through the hills. That evening we tried another restaurant, this one with lots of people, but again when we left to walk back to the hotel we were presented with a dead empty town. Not one person on the streets and we walked through a silent town.

The next day we decided to explore the town and discovered that indeed there were people who lived here and the streets were busy and full of people. There were cars, buses, tractors, construction crews, and lots of people on the streets and boats moving in and out of the harbour. The town was actually alive! BUT . . . . . 12:00 noon arrived and everything stopped. Really;  everything completely stopped. The town went silent. No people on the streets, traffic stopped. the streets were dead! We walked back to the hotel past closed shops and empty streets. We were once again alone in St. Pierre. Looking at the signs in the shops we realized that everything shuts down from 12:00 to 2:00, and they really do shut down. It is very weird to suddenly have an entire town go so completely silent. It seems that the same thing happens in the evenings. No "Night Life" here, they roll up the sidewalks and go in for the evening.

I have learned to adapt, and I'm quietly writing this inside at the hotel at 1:57 pm, oh wait a minute I can hear the whole town waking up and coming back outside. Time to finish this blog entry.

Off the Grid

We spent a couple of days this summer completely off the “grid”. No power, no running water, no sewer, and no cell service. Our lives are so tied into and around having these “essential” services, that it takes a while to acclimatize to not having power at the flick of a switch or hot water at the turn of a tap.

My sister and her husband built a beautiful “cottage” on a lot overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, and invited us to use it. It isn’t really isolated, but when planning turned up protected wetlands, and situating sewage and water proved a problem, they decided to build anyway but go completely “off the grid”.

Water isn’t a real problem, since you can carry it in with you, but carrying out the resulting waste is not a pleasant option, so they quickly found the solution in a composting toilet - better that the traditional outhouse, but still requiring no power or water.

Once you settle into the cottage, life without all the ’essentials’ is actually pretty good. The toilet works great; no smell, and really easy to use and manage. Oil lamps chase away the shadows, and rechargeable lights and battery power work just fine - but there is always the option of just going to bed earlier as the sun goes down, and getting up when it gets light. Once you have no real option, this seems pretty logical. Water for drinking can be carried in, and two big rain barrels provide water for washing and cooking. Probably the biggest issue is with hot water; dishes come cleaner in hot water, and I really don’t enjoy washing in cold water.

There are some advantages too. It is really dark without electricity, and looking to the heavens shows a sky full of stars hidden from our urban neighborhoods, and having to wait to wash the supper dishes until the wash water is hot allows one to relax with another glass of wine while your meal digests. You just have to slow down a bit, and that really isn’t such a bad thing. I will certainly be willing to go back for another visit.

Beach Marbles

Lots of Beach Rocks

Why is it almost impossible to find a perfectly round rock? There are lots of ’rounded’ rocks, and you can find rocks that are perfectly round but flat, but try to find just one that is a perfect sphere; almost impossible.

I call it the search for the perfect beach marble. It is very hard to find a round rock, even harder to find ones  the size of a marble. Why is that?

Someone once told me that the odds of finding a rock on a beach that had actually been worn into a perfect sphere was virtually impossible. He claimed that it would have had to start out close to a perfect cube so that as it was washed and rolled about by the waves and water the corners would slowly get worn down until it was round.

Whenever I visit a rocky beach, I search for my perfect beach marble. I haven’t found one yet. I have a few almost round beach rocks, but not one actually round, and nothing marble sized.

My theory? There are actually lots of round rocks. The continual motion of the waves works to round all rocks to perfect spheres. It is just that as soon as a rock becomes an exact round shape, the ’roundness’ exerts itself, and one of the guiding principles of a sphere takes over and it begins to roll. As we know, anything that rolls, naturally rolls down hill.

Almost round . . .

So . . . once the perfect beach marble achieves roundness, the motion of the waves rolls it not back and forth, but just ’forth’; always down hill. Yup, somewhere in the deepest of ocean trenches, unexplored by mankind, lie thousands of perfectly round rocks. Scattered among them are my elusive ’beach marbles’.

But, the search continues. One day I will come across a rock just as it loses that bit that kept it from being truly round but before it begins it’s journey down.