Brian_M
Member
Day 2.
Early rise, feed the dog check the gear and hit the road. I was through Ottawa ON and Hull QC by 9 am with only three wrong turns, there was no traffic so I was easily back on track. Heading north into Quebec I found that the French word "travaux" doesn’t mean work zone, but "huge bump that will make you think the trailer fell off". Additionally, work zones were marked with a single sign, and detour and lane shifts were woefully inadequately marked. The real bump signs were placed at or just past the bump, using a sign about 1/2 the size used in the US, so there was no time to slow down, just enough time to grip the wheel, clench the teeth and look in the rear view mirror to watch the boat trailer combo depart the tow vehicle.
Arrival at camp was a relief; my cabin was ready, and the best of the bunch. Of twelve cabins, three were occupied, ah…. the prospects of a quiet week. Unloading supplies and launching the boat were uneventful chores, although I found the left tail light on the trailer dangling by the wires and the license plate hanging on by a single loose bolt after a 50 kilometer drive down a gravel logging road. After launching it took several attempts to bring the mighty Mercruiser 165 to life, eventually requiring a delicate choke adjustment procedure consisting of taking the flame arrestor off and shoving a pair of vice grips down the throat of the carb: success and the engine ran fine for the sea trials. A quick tie up at my neighbors dock, the water at mine was a full one foot deep at the docks end, I was ready for an early night. Just before going to bed, I checked on the boat and found her sitting in an unusual manner, quick inspection showed that where the stern was tied up, a complete plank fell off, including the mooring ring where I had tied the boat up.
Sunday morning dawned and after a breakfast of spam and eggs, I headed out to tour the river. I couldn't get a fishing license until the evening so a boat ride was in order. My collie accompanied me as we worked our way up river. Being newbie's on the river, we took it slow, crawling through the narrow spots and searching for deep water taking full advantage of the Garmin 120 Fish finder and GPS 162 units, while making notes on the map. Luckily, I found where all of the detour and travel signs for Quebec are, someone has donated them to help the lost angler up and down the river. About 18 miles up river, I decided to head back. As power was applied, the mighty Mercruiser answered with a sputter, cough and choke. Unwilling to allow her to die and strand me up the proverbial river without a paddle, I coaxed the throttle and got onto a plane. WOT equaled about 1800 erpm and would fall and rise. Eventually, whatever caused the problem worked itself out and the boat ran fine all the way to the dock
Sunday evening arrived, armed with bait and a license; I was off fishing although my collie declined to accompany me, nor would she get near the boat or dock. Animal intuition I guess. As I backed out from the dock, I noticed the out drive shifted rather roughly, or I was dragging bottom: in either case it fixed it self and I headed out for a couple hours of fishing. After being skunked, I slunk into the dock which immediately shed another board, this one holding the only rubber tire fender. Undaunted, I stepped from the boat and went through a rotted board on the dock. Back to the cabin for a rum and coke or two….
The dock before self destruction
The cabin on the point
A Upper Ottawa River Dayboard
A Upper Ottawa River Bouy
Early rise, feed the dog check the gear and hit the road. I was through Ottawa ON and Hull QC by 9 am with only three wrong turns, there was no traffic so I was easily back on track. Heading north into Quebec I found that the French word "travaux" doesn’t mean work zone, but "huge bump that will make you think the trailer fell off". Additionally, work zones were marked with a single sign, and detour and lane shifts were woefully inadequately marked. The real bump signs were placed at or just past the bump, using a sign about 1/2 the size used in the US, so there was no time to slow down, just enough time to grip the wheel, clench the teeth and look in the rear view mirror to watch the boat trailer combo depart the tow vehicle.
Arrival at camp was a relief; my cabin was ready, and the best of the bunch. Of twelve cabins, three were occupied, ah…. the prospects of a quiet week. Unloading supplies and launching the boat were uneventful chores, although I found the left tail light on the trailer dangling by the wires and the license plate hanging on by a single loose bolt after a 50 kilometer drive down a gravel logging road. After launching it took several attempts to bring the mighty Mercruiser 165 to life, eventually requiring a delicate choke adjustment procedure consisting of taking the flame arrestor off and shoving a pair of vice grips down the throat of the carb: success and the engine ran fine for the sea trials. A quick tie up at my neighbors dock, the water at mine was a full one foot deep at the docks end, I was ready for an early night. Just before going to bed, I checked on the boat and found her sitting in an unusual manner, quick inspection showed that where the stern was tied up, a complete plank fell off, including the mooring ring where I had tied the boat up.
Sunday morning dawned and after a breakfast of spam and eggs, I headed out to tour the river. I couldn't get a fishing license until the evening so a boat ride was in order. My collie accompanied me as we worked our way up river. Being newbie's on the river, we took it slow, crawling through the narrow spots and searching for deep water taking full advantage of the Garmin 120 Fish finder and GPS 162 units, while making notes on the map. Luckily, I found where all of the detour and travel signs for Quebec are, someone has donated them to help the lost angler up and down the river. About 18 miles up river, I decided to head back. As power was applied, the mighty Mercruiser answered with a sputter, cough and choke. Unwilling to allow her to die and strand me up the proverbial river without a paddle, I coaxed the throttle and got onto a plane. WOT equaled about 1800 erpm and would fall and rise. Eventually, whatever caused the problem worked itself out and the boat ran fine all the way to the dock
Sunday evening arrived, armed with bait and a license; I was off fishing although my collie declined to accompany me, nor would she get near the boat or dock. Animal intuition I guess. As I backed out from the dock, I noticed the out drive shifted rather roughly, or I was dragging bottom: in either case it fixed it self and I headed out for a couple hours of fishing. After being skunked, I slunk into the dock which immediately shed another board, this one holding the only rubber tire fender. Undaunted, I stepped from the boat and went through a rotted board on the dock. Back to the cabin for a rum and coke or two….
The dock before self destruction
The cabin on the point
A Upper Ottawa River Dayboard
A Upper Ottawa River Bouy
