Newport to Oswego – 141 nautical miles.
After a blissfully calm night the winds started picking up around 5 am and by 8 they were blowing again from the north-east at 15 knots, creating large waves. Thankfully it was short lived and the winds backed down to under 7 knots making for a decent ride into Oswego, our first stop of the trip.
We hadn’t seen Mike since 8 last night so at 8 am I banged on his cabin door.
“Mike? Mike? Hey man, you okay in there?” I asked as I knocked gingerly, then less gingerly. At first, nothing. Then some grunting man noises. Finally he appeared, dazed and confused and a little grey.
“Thank God you’re not dead," I said looking him up and down. "That would have really complicated our trip. How are you?”
“Still not feeling great. That was a rough ride yesterday.”
“So when you turn up at the US border with a dead body, is it better or worse if the corpse is an American citizen. Just wondering.”
“Never tried it. Hey, why are you looking at me funny?”
“No reason.”
“Alright, well then I’m going to lay back down for a while.”
Mike took another Dramamine and crashed out, hopefully not for good. I went back up to the cockpit and fell asleep while Ana kept watch, but we were all alone on the lake.
At 1pm we arrived in Oswego after getting cleared through US immigration through their amazing and efficient CPB Roam app (listen up Canadian border services – your processes SUCK ASS, just ask the US to use their damn app and rebrand it with maple leafs or beavers or whatever).
We got docked, checked in, then Mike and I started constructing two wooden stands to support our mast which we’d need to carry on top of the boat after it was taken down. Fortunately we found a nice stack of “previously experienced” stands built, used, then discarded from other boaters. We just had to cut one down a bit and build the other up, but in the end we had two expertly built stands, and we even had some admirers. As we were measuring, cutting, screwing, and drilling, a gang of speed walkers came cruising by. Mike said they were the Real Housewives of Oswego, but I don’t know how he could possibly know that. Anyway, they all sized him up as he’s a fine looking silver haired fox and I’m still a mostly brown-haired pup so not up into that league yet, but he's not looking so he just threw them a Chicago stink eye. I don’t think those post-menopausal cougars were used to that sort of crushing disappointment, but they did their best to shrug it off then moseyed their way on down the street.
It was getting on in the afternoon so we rescued Ana from her Newport Yacht Club work and together removed the head sail and boom from the sailboat then went for a walk around town. We saw the most amazing fire truck. It came roaring down the street with the regular siren and lights, but on the front was a giant circus pinwheel spinning magically, throwing off joy and fun. I bet there were a bunch of giddy clowns inside laughing and sticking their fingers in each others’ eyes, but the damn truck was moving way too fast for us to see the occupants. After that excitement, Ana guided us to a thrift store she visited last time we were here (that’s when her, Stella, and our friend Angela were on Bird scooters running from the cops and Ana did an endo and flipped hers over then skidded across the pavement on her bare arms and legs and, fortunately, the hair bun on the back of her head, which saved her from a major concussion). Oswego’s aways lots of fun.
While Ana hunted for deals I went for a neighbourhood walk then joined Mike sitting on a park bench chilling. We gave her about 45 minutes of thrifting then dragged her out and to a local restaurant where we ate some delicious burgers – the first thing Mike had eaten for over 24 hours and it seemed to bring him back to life. After that, it was lights out as tomorrow was going to be another big day.
That was a nasty start for Mike. Hopefully the rest of the trip is smoother.
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