The Chambly Canal

St-Jean-sur-Richelieu to St-Ours - 37 nautical miles sailed, 9 locks, 4 kilometres walked

After waking up feeling blissfully fresh we returned to Super C and picked up two goon bags for a spectacular price. Magnus joined us this time and did his own shopping, picking up a stick of deodorant at the Dollarama. We stopped to see the lockmaster on the way back and were delighted to hear we had been scheduled to get into the canal for 11 am. We were so happy we offered to crack open a goon bag right there have celebatory drinks with her. Though tempted, her professionalism shone through, and she politely declined, and suggested we hold off on the bags until we'd made it through the canal. Wise advice.

At ten to eleven we got the call and a parade of boats made their way beneath the bridge and towards the lock. We were happy to see we'd be locking through with our friends from vessels Hibiscus and Voila.

The two smaller vessels were directed to enter first and we slid in behind them. The lock was incredibly small and the three of us were packed in like tin can mussels. We had less than a foot of clearance from the end of the mast to the lock wall, and maybe a couple feet at the front, ready to spear into the back of Hibiscus. The operation of the lock was fascinating - it was all done manually with the use of removable hand winches. They used a winch on a fitting to close the upstream lock doors once we were in, then another to close the internal valves. Next they walked to the downstream lock doors and winched opened the internal valves to release water, and the lock emptied rapidly. While they did this, we used boat hooks and ropes to keep SeaLight in position and away from the wall and other two boats. Once emptied, they winched open the downstream door and directed us to slowly leave the chamber and tie up at the nearby dock as we had to time our departure with the opening of a bridge that was about an hour and a half away. For 45 minutes we visited with our boater friends, and during that time the lockmaster came over and had me sign a waver saying I acknowledged the depths in the Chamblay Canal were guaranteed to be only 6' 6" and any damage I incurred becuase of a deeper draft would be my responsiblity. Knowing our draft was six feet, or maybe a couple inches more, I signed, but felt a bit of anxiety building, as it inevitably does when boating into a new, risky situation.

Soon we were off, traveling at the recommended 5.5 knots to time the bridges. In a word, the canal was beautiful. It was very narrow and in some parts we were able to reach out with boat hooks on either side and touch the edges. Many sections were forested and felt remote, and at times we could spot the Richelieu River through the trees running alongside us. A lovely, paved biking path ran along the canal for much of it and it was full of runners, walkers, bikers, scooters, and rollerbladers. There were a few homes that backed onto the canal and more than once we saw folks sitting in chairs on their patios watching the boats float by.

We passed through or beneath a number of bridges and eight more locks and after four hours exited at the town of Chambly, famous for the Unibroue brewery and their signature beer Blanche de Chambly. Though dangerously close to submitting to temptation and stopping to explore the town and brewery, we decided to continue on to reach the final lock, which was still several hours away and had an overnight tie-up.

After passing through the Chambly Basin, and gorgeous bay rounded by the town and hundreds of classy houses, we were back in the spacious Richelieu River and cruised at over 8 knots headed due north. Along the way were some magnificent waterfront chateaus, but also many modest small houses. It was easy to see why Quebec is called La Belle Province.

We reached the town of St-Ours and found one of two remaining spots at the lock dock. The delicious toasted turkey-pesto sandwiches Curtis had made for lunch had completely worn off so Magnus offered to make dinner for us and it was ready shortly after we arrived so we sat down for a hearty feed of pork pasta with splashes of wine. It turned out well and I was so happy to see Magnus had taken an interest in cooking during his time in Scotland. He did a fine job.

After dinner Magnus went on a scouting mission and reported back that he'd found a massive inventory of firewood and a series of firepits in the park adjacent to the lock. We rounded up Jonathan and Marcel from Hibiscus and Peterboroughian brothers James and Alex from Geez Louise, who were tied up in front of us and had helped us dock. We lured them in with the promise of a virgin goon bag. It worked.

The fire blazed, conversation flowed, red wine spilled, stories were told, laughter ensued. It was an amazing night and brought back fond memories of the many late night campfires we'd had on Bahamian beaches with new friends.

It was not an early night.