Michael opens the forward cabin door at 7 a.m. and sticks his head out. Turning, he says, “Hot and steamy,” and goes into the galley to fix us a hot and steamy cup of coffee.

We start the morning ritual and are on our way to Fairport by 8:30 a.m. “The jewel of the Erie Canal” a little over six hours away. On our way west, after leaving the second lock, I decide to stay in the bow of the boat. A slight breeze ruffles the water; clouds cover the beaming sun.

Wow! This is the best place to be—why did it take me five-and-a-half days to figure it out?

Some of the trees are kissed with the promise of autumn—the edges of leaves are the softest sienna and palest gold. Others break from their branches and flutter gracefully down to the water below; flecks of gold float beside me. Geese are gathering on the banks, making ready for their flight south. It seems all of nature understands autumn is in the wind, all but the weather. Everyone says, “This is highly unusual. It’s not supposed to be like this.”  “This,” meaning warm to the point of hot.

Trading Places

I feel so guilty being a lady of leisure while Michael is in the back steering the boat, so I walk through the cabin and up into the cockpit and offer to switch places till we reach the next lock. He smiles unbelievingly, saying, “Really?” Grabbing his camera, he heads toward the bow.

The first day of our cruise, when Michal asked me to take the tiller so he could go below, fear gripped my stomach, and the only words that crossed my lips were, “HURRY UP!” A loud HURRY UP. Now I sit here feeling confident, knowing to keep between the red and green markers, and enjoying my high perch. A heavy, unwieldy tug turns out to be easier to steer than a heavy, unwieldy sailboat under power. And Island Rose had a steering wheel—maybe that was my problem.

Mechanical Issues

Going through lock 30, the last lock of the day, the final lock of the trip–disaster strikes. The bow thrusters go out. Instead of a reassuring roar, we get a pleading whine as Michael urges Harriet Wiles close to the dock wall. It wouldn’t be a disaster—even though we have no more locks in our immediate future—but we have one more port to dock in, and then we need to get Harriet back to her home berth—not impossible, but very difficult without the thrusters to control the heavy barge.

The lock gates open, and I use my boat hook to push us away from the wall. I call Mid-Lakes Marina and tell them our woes. “It’s probably just a sheared pin,” the woman on the other end of the line tells me, “I’ll call you right back.”

Dark clouds gather, and the wind kicks up as Michael steers Harriet into the marina channel. I toss a line to the waiting staffer, and the skies open up. Three guys are working on the problem—they fix it!

There is no green light—it isn’t fixed.

They fix it. But there is no green light. It isn’t fixed.

It is fixed. There is no green light—again. It isn’t fixed. I might scream.

Finally, for real—it is fixed. Michael backs the barge away from the dock, makes a turn, and we continue on our journey.

Arriving in Fairport

The waterway leading into Fairport looks much different than other landscapes we’ve seen; long sloping, freshly manicured lawns studded with giant shade trees and green, green grass greet us.

At first glance, after arriving at the town docks, there is no room at the inn. And we WANT there to be room, and we WANT a space that has electricity.

We find ONE—and it requires parallel parking. It looks big enough, but after a few tries, Michael thinks not. Then a dock angel appears and says, “Yes, it looks like you can fit,” and I throw her a line, and the dockmaster appears and helps with the other lines.

And we’re here, and the air conditioner works, and it is time for one more docking celebration, and I break out the rum.

I call for dinner reservations at The Porterhouse perched on a small hill above the canal—a stone’s throw from where we are docked—the sign says Steaks-Seafood-Scotch. I’m planning on a long leisurely, elegant night. I may even wash my hair.

 I’ll definitely wash my hair. And wear earrings.