A Tale of Two Cities, a Lake, and The Van Doos.

June 25. Day 32. While we could theoretically make the 140/45 miles from Chambly to Quebec City for our target date of July 3 in only 3 or 4 days, it would take having the appropriate weather on all consecutive days (light winds, i.e. 10 knots or less, from the Southwest and with no thunderstorms), stopping further down the Richelieu near Sorel, and at Trois Rivieres and Portneuf.

But if we left today, we would likely be running into contrary weather by the time we were crossing Lac St-Pierre, and one doesn’t want to do that. It is extremely shallow outside of the channel, and is subject to rough waters appearing very suddenly if the wind shifts, and there are threats of thunderstorms about. Besides, there is a nice spa/resort/restaurant/marina not too far downriver at St.-Marc-sur-Richelieu, and Michel fancies a massage and pedicure. Perhaps two nights there?

So we do a slow shuffle down river so we can spend Canada Day weekend in the city of Trois Rivieres, third largest in Quebec. We leave Chambly on a very windy Monday, the breeze giving us extreme challenges in the three locks which step down to the river, but we survive that. Shortly thereafter, we are tying up at the Auberge Handfield, just beyond Beloiel, as the wind keeps on shifting around us.

Wednesday and we make the next short hop (14 miles) to St. Ours Lock where we will get protection from more strong winds and possible rain.

Not long after tying up, a Nordic Tug comes up behind us – and it is “Encore” with our friends Lee and Barbara – who we had first met at the dock at Champlain Marina in Malletts Bay a week or so before – on board. Drinks all round in the quiet of their salon while the wind rustled up.

The weather the next day is not as bad as forecast, so we get ready to cast off and go to our next stop, a marina where we can get fresh water and our first fuel fillup of the trip, just a few miles down river. Meanwhile, Lee and Barbara unfortunately have to do a 180 and head back to Lake Champlain to sort out a health issue, which puts a big dent in their plans as to where to winter the boat this year. Such is boating.

Soon we tie up at the very friendly and interesting Parc Bellerive marina, fill up with diesel, and prepare for an early start tomorrow for Lac St-Pierre.

Up at 05:45 with a thick mist on the river and the possibility of thunderstorms over the Lake in the afternoon, so off we go. The water is calm, and while the skies are grey, the mist burns off and we join the St. Lawrence again, turning east.

The weather stays with us – a mere 4 knots from the west, which is the right direction – and the thunderstorms on the radar drift across the horizon, missing our path. There are other hazards, though – twice we were surprised by tankers/cargo ships looming up behind us. Our fault.

So we are fortunate indeed, especially having read the words of poet William Henry Drummond (1854-1907) who, while of Irish birth, lived in the area and wrote in the local French-Canadian dialect, including, in 1897, The Wreck of the “Julie Plante”:
…..
De night was dark lak wan black cat,
De wave run high and fas’
W’en de captinne tak’ de Rosie girl
An’ tie her to de mas’
Den he also take’ de life preserve,
An’ jomp off on de lak,
An’ say, “Good-bye, ma Rosie dear,
I go drown for your sake’.”

Nex’ morning very early
‘Bout ha’f-pas’ two–t’ree–four–
De captinne–scow*–an’ de poor Rosie
Was corpses on de shore,
For de win’ she blow lak hurricane,
Bimeby she blow some more,
An’ de scow bus’ up on Lac St. Pierre,
Wan arpent** from de shore.

MORAL
Now all good wood scow sailor man
Tak’ warning by dat storm
An’ go an’ marry some nice French girl
An’ leev on wan been farm.
De win’ can blow lak hurricane
An’ s’pose she blow some more,
You can’t get drown on Lac St. Pierre
So long you stay on shore.

*scow – a large, flat-bottomed boat. **arpent – a French measure (approx. an acre and a quarter)

By 11 or so we are at Trois Rivieres, and pass under the Laviolette Bridge to find the marina. Tied up, we wait for the storm to catch up.

The deluge finally begins, and we zip up the canvas and double up the lines.

The next day the storm is replaced by an absolute scorcher, and we seek shade nearby in beautiful parkland, reading our books and dozing as the ships continue their majestic procession.

We go into Trois Rivieres for Canada Day and provision the boat for the trip ahead, we take the dinghy down and go up the St-Maurice River for a jog, we go to a restaurant, and we meet some very nice, helpful and welcoming boaters at the marina – all Quebeckers. We do a lot of planning as to the right time to leave Trois Rivieres to take advantage of the strong tidal currents that come into play from here on down the St Lawrence to beyond Tadoussac, and to avoid the flood tide.

While we were hoping for two or three nights in Trois Rivieres and a two-leg journey to Quebec City of about 4 hours each on the Monday and Tuesday, stopping at Portneuf, the weatherman has different ideas, and we end up staying for four nights while the easterly wind blows hard and thunderstorms keep popping up on the radar. So now it’s all down to one day, and that is Tuesday July 3rd.

Thankfully the weather forecast is right, and we have perfect weather for the trip. Sticking to the calculations, we leave dock at 10:50 with the intention of arriving at Quebec City at low tide – 18:15 – or a little after. The breeze is light, from the west and southwest, getting fresher as we near Quebec City.

All goes well and by 17:30 we are approaching Quebec’s twin bridges, with their very fast currents of 5 or 6 knots – just as a tanker is coming up behind us and a tanker is heading towards us. We wait to let the first pass us, then we tuck in behind him. As we go under the second bridge, the other tanker passes the other way and makes an enormous wake – truly, it was like handling the boat in a very rough sea – and it went on and on, our boat pitching up and down like a bronco. Welcome to Quebec.

We make our way past the waterfront of one of North America’s oldest cities, and head into the outer basin to navigate the lock into the marina basin, which is necessary to protect the inner basin from the tides – 13 or 14 feet or more.

It has to be the most splendid marina in the province – or any province – with its location overseen by the seminary and the Frontenac, and with just a short walk into the Vieux Ville. And it has a swimming pool. We made it here on time for Jane’s investiture, so can relax a little, and have booked a week in the marina.

The next day, Jane and her friends, arrived from Edmonton, come to the boat for drinks prior to the investiture itself, to be conducted by The Governor General at her Residence in The Citadelle, on the morrow.

Thursday, July 5th. The ceremony at The Citadelle is at 10:30 but we must have Michel there at 9:30 so off we stride, stopping for a croissant and coffee on the way.

Over the next couple of days, there are dinners and get togethers, restaurants and museums, and roaming the streets of Quebec City.

It’s Sunday, July 8. What next? Not sure. The voyage to Tadoussac – the most formidable of the cruise – demands exactly the right weather for it to be safe, let alone comfortable, so as the days pass and the forecast gets closer to our notional departure day – Wednesday – we continue to plot and plan, estimate and calculate, and look into the crystal ball.

And go find a local bistro for dinner.