After a rough ride in Erie, we took the Welland Canal through to Ontario. For those who do not know, the Welland Canal is a series of eight locks that allow ships to move 100m up and down the Niagara Escarpment and to bypass Niagara falls without having to navigate shallow, uncertain rivers from Ontario to Huron. The Welland Canal broke ground in 1824 and was initially completed in 1829. The current version of the Canal was started in 1913 and finished in 1939. It is allegedly due for a replacement/facelift in the year 2030, so there is that to look forward to, I suppose. The canal is quite something to pass through, but it sure it an antique. Crumbling rebar concrete is all around you, and the gates to each lock are somewhat shaky. Still, though, the feat of engineering cannot be discounted. I worked the sternline downbound for the entire 8 hours it took us to pass through, and I apparently did a decent enough job.
I then fell asleep, which is regrettable, because I missed the station that took us right outside Toronto at night and we were not to pass by it on the way back west, much to my chagrin, but I did enjoy my rest.
Lake Ontario surprised me with its depth. I had expected it to be much like Lake Erie, which has an average station depth of 30m, but instead, Ontario showed an average station depth of around 150m, much like Huron and Michigan. Lake Ontario also played tricks on my mind (I think). I swear that every so often, when I stepped outside, I smelled the ocean. Or some sort of brackish water mass. I swear it. Either my sense of smell is fine tuned for this particle or my mind is trying to get back to the biggest of lakes. I cannot decide which is actually the case.
In Ontario, we stopped in the Port of Rochester, NY for a day and a half for some R & R. I found it to be a cross between a retirement community (most street walkers looked like Florida winterers) and a tourist destination (beachgoers, bar patrons). Speaking of beachgoers, that was our crew of younger sailors. We went to the beach. The most regulated beach I had ever seen in my life. A lifeguard chair for every 20m of beach. A designated swimming zone (by the way, us 6 ft and up folks could WALK out to the edge of this zone, the beach gradient was so gradual and if we overshot the line by 2 feet, we'd be squawked at by a lifeguard). Want to bring a toy to the beach? Don't bother, they're not allowed. All this fuss over what? The beach was right beside a rivermouth. This means nutrient loading of the water and the result of that is algae. Lots of algae. Rancid clumps on the beach and 2-4 inches underneath your feet within the swimming area. When a lightning storm drew near (but not overhead) the lifeguards started buzzing like bees, forcing people off the sand and out of the water as if an alien invasion were imminent, coupled with repetitive, obnoxious announcements over the loudspeaker every 5 minutes, which inevitably drew mockery from us, much to the delight of obviously annoyed beach patrons. Overall, I was disappointed.
I saw a grown man ride a carousel. Oh wait, that was Russ. Never seen someone so old so hellbent on riding one. Lightning shut it down (why?) so he had to convince them to let him sit on it while not in motion (this is different that turning it on during a storm how?) so he could get a photo snapped.
After Rochester, we started our journey back west. I slept through the upbound transit through the Welland and was only on watch for one of the 3 stations designated for this graduate student. Her survey plan, which included the deployment of sediment traps in the Spring, was awfully faulty. The traps has no real marker to retrieve them by and predictably we went 0/3 on recovery. She wanted to do a net trawl, but the net for so poorly designed it shredded immediately. Wasting our time, is all we have done for her.
After a quick science team trade off in Detroit, we are headed for Ste. St. Marie and beyond into the last lake of summer survey: Superior.
I then fell asleep, which is regrettable, because I missed the station that took us right outside Toronto at night and we were not to pass by it on the way back west, much to my chagrin, but I did enjoy my rest.
Lake Ontario surprised me with its depth. I had expected it to be much like Lake Erie, which has an average station depth of 30m, but instead, Ontario showed an average station depth of around 150m, much like Huron and Michigan. Lake Ontario also played tricks on my mind (I think). I swear that every so often, when I stepped outside, I smelled the ocean. Or some sort of brackish water mass. I swear it. Either my sense of smell is fine tuned for this particle or my mind is trying to get back to the biggest of lakes. I cannot decide which is actually the case.
In Ontario, we stopped in the Port of Rochester, NY for a day and a half for some R & R. I found it to be a cross between a retirement community (most street walkers looked like Florida winterers) and a tourist destination (beachgoers, bar patrons). Speaking of beachgoers, that was our crew of younger sailors. We went to the beach. The most regulated beach I had ever seen in my life. A lifeguard chair for every 20m of beach. A designated swimming zone (by the way, us 6 ft and up folks could WALK out to the edge of this zone, the beach gradient was so gradual and if we overshot the line by 2 feet, we'd be squawked at by a lifeguard). Want to bring a toy to the beach? Don't bother, they're not allowed. All this fuss over what? The beach was right beside a rivermouth. This means nutrient loading of the water and the result of that is algae. Lots of algae. Rancid clumps on the beach and 2-4 inches underneath your feet within the swimming area. When a lightning storm drew near (but not overhead) the lifeguards started buzzing like bees, forcing people off the sand and out of the water as if an alien invasion were imminent, coupled with repetitive, obnoxious announcements over the loudspeaker every 5 minutes, which inevitably drew mockery from us, much to the delight of obviously annoyed beach patrons. Overall, I was disappointed.
I saw a grown man ride a carousel. Oh wait, that was Russ. Never seen someone so old so hellbent on riding one. Lightning shut it down (why?) so he had to convince them to let him sit on it while not in motion (this is different that turning it on during a storm how?) so he could get a photo snapped.
After Rochester, we started our journey back west. I slept through the upbound transit through the Welland and was only on watch for one of the 3 stations designated for this graduate student. Her survey plan, which included the deployment of sediment traps in the Spring, was awfully faulty. The traps has no real marker to retrieve them by and predictably we went 0/3 on recovery. She wanted to do a net trawl, but the net for so poorly designed it shredded immediately. Wasting our time, is all we have done for her.
After a quick science team trade off in Detroit, we are headed for Ste. St. Marie and beyond into the last lake of summer survey: Superior.
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