It has been a while since my last entry. We anchored out two weekends back, in our usual spot in le Grande Anse. There were no anchoring mishaps this time as Chris and I were more conscious of proper anchoring technique. I realize now that with our previous, smaller boats, the Tanzer 22s, we may have gotten away with poor anchoring technique. I find that I devote a lot of free thought to anchors and anchoring, lately. I am constantly perusing on-line chandlery catalogues, pricing anchors and rodes. I also read on-line articles comparing anchor types and techniques, as well a review articles on anchoring in back issues of my many sailing magazines. The more I learn about anchors and the hazards and pitfalls anchoring, the more I worry about the safety of my crew (the dear wife) and vessel. Crykie, ignorance in this area definitely was bliss!

In any case before we depart on the big cruise at the end of the month I will be adding a 7-10 lbs Bruce anchor to Rêverie’s ground tackle. Among the many financial “death by a thousand cuts” outlays I must make over the next few weeks to prepare her, the boat, for our cruise up to the Thousand Islands. Ironically, the Thousand Islands area is just 1-1/2 to 2 hours drive from our home. We hope to be gone for about a week and half. As fast as it might feel closed-hauled with the rails in the water and force of the wind on the helm, sailing is not about getting there on any kind of schedule. I have a t-shirt from the folks at Good Old Boat magazine, my favourite, a gift from Chris and Lynda. The image on the shirt is a wandering sailboat with the inscription “Are we there yet? Who Cares?” This is a great expression of a simple philosophy connected with sailing and other traditional skills – it is the journey, not the destination that matters most.

I digress. We got Rêverie and Drifter safely anchored, and went for a swim in the still cool lake. The cold spring has delayed the warming of the water by a week or two. As we swam around our rafted-up boats, we encountered both warm and cold patches of water. It is still early in the summer, so the weed fronds have not yet reached up to the surface of our shallow lake. I was wishing that I had my mask and snorkel aboard as I wanted to dive beneath the boat and check the anchor line and keel, because at the time I think it is something that cruisers do while at anchor.

Dinner was wonderful; oysters with our cocktails, hotdogs and chicken (I can’t eat hotdogs) on the barbeque, accompanied by green and potato salads. All washed down with a nice seasonal Rosé.

As we were de-rafting and rechecking our anchor lines (an ever present concern), Vi snapped a few shots of Chris and I busy with lines. However, she captured more than boats and tars, the images below are just two of the many “anchored in the stars” images she shot.

The next morning was wonderfully still and clear. The lake was flat and resplendent in summer colours while we munched on our toast with jam and Scottish marmalade and sipped our morning tea; talking quietly, respectful of the dawn.

We try to take pictures of each other’s boats. This is Drifter at rest:

While we were getting set up for breakfast we heard some fishermen heading out across the bay. Vi captures the timeless activity and camaraderie of fishermen setting out in the wee hours of the morning.

After breakfast, we weighed anchor and tried our asymmetrical spinnaker for the first time. The wind was East-Southeast, so we were unable to do much beyond tack back and forth across the bay, but it was nice to know that Vi and I could fly this beautiful downwind sail without too much trouble. I played with and organized the many lines required, and Vi was at the helm. After a bit, we socked and bagged the kite, rolled out the genoa and headed out of the bay to round Dowker Island. It was a pleasant sail home, with light winds and the occasional puff to move us along. I like these morning sails with my sweetie, as we are learning to work Rêverie in tandem, Vi at the helm and me tending the sails.