#16 The Chambly Canal

What a difference a day makes. The heat wave of the past two weeks has come to an end, bridged by a day of overcast skies for the cruise from Montreal to Sorel. In a little over twelve hours it changed from this...

                        ... to this. 

We've started south. The first leg is 70 miles on the Richelieu River, which runs north from Lake Champlain in Vermont to the St. Lawrence River in Sorel, Quebec. (Yes, we're going against the flow, but who cares in this bucolic setting. What flow?) 

Like other waterways we've navigated, the Richelieu's potential value to commerce was realized in the early 19th century.

 Today, it looks like Sorel is a waterway "rest area" for ships navigating the St. Lawrence ...

... and NOT the Richelieu, which is affected by this summer's low water levels. The lack of rain appears to have modified summer recreation in these parts.

The industrial flavor of Sorel dissipated quickly. This region above Vermont is relatively flat in our minds, and it was surprising to see a small mountain range. Locals told us it extends down into Vermont, so perhaps this is the official beginning of the Green Mountains. 

  

The real gem of the Richelieu is the Chambly Canal, a charming twelve-mile channel fitted with nine locks. It was built to bypass rapids on the Richelieu. We thought that by now we'd seen every size of lock imaginable, but were dead wrong! This was by far the smallest; just big enough for two boats. The first three locks are a flight. Wind and current made entry the most difficult we'd encountered.

 Once inside, the first mate assumed her usual position at the stern ...

 ... while the captain finished easing Sally W up to the wall, cut the engine, and grabbed the line from the lock tender. The rise was only a few feet.

 At the top of the flight we decided to tie up along the wall in the village of Chambly. What luck! Preparations were underway for an open air concert right across the water.

 Here we were listening to a singer we didn't know, serenading in a language we didn't understand. That made it all the more delightful. Her repertoire and style were decidedly French; a nice reminder of the many local flavors we'd experienced.

 Once again, Parks Canada has done a great job in creating a nice recreational experience.

The extremely narrow channel keeps captains on their toes.

The towpath, once used by horses, has become an excellent bike trail.

 Sally W provided the entertainment during a rest stop for this friendly group. Or, did they stop to watch the action?

"What a beautiful boat!"

"Where are you from?"

"Where are you going?"

 Too bad it didn't take longer to lock up. We were making lots of new friends. They gave us a great send off.

 Parks Canada also operates the bridges along the canal. Passing through requires a protocol of calling the bridge tender, stating your vessel name, and direction of travel. They reply to wait for the green light. It's all very pleasant. The people are well-trained and seem to like their jobs.

 But "like" isn't a strong enough word for Vickie, who has been at her job for seventeen years, tending this bridge and other bridges and locks nearby. We tied up below her bridge for lunch. Over the radio she politely asked us to inform her when we would continue south because she needed to check that the canal was clear of northbound traffic. Fair enough. After lunch we ventured over to meet her and spent the next hour chatting. 


That lead to an invitation to come aboard. We're not sure how many opportunities are offered to her, but think she hasn't seen many classic boats pass through here. These days the plastic fantastic rule the waterways.

 We finally said our goodbyes, exchanging hugs and email addresses. 

As we pulled away from the dock, our radio cracked:

V: Sally W. Bridge Ten.

SW: Sally W. Go ahead.

V: I forgot to tell you one thing.

SW: Go ahead.

V: You made my day!"

And she certainly made ours. Another gem to drop into the bucket.