In ______, the year of the Expo, we made an ambitious round trip cruise, from Seneca Lake through the Erie Canal, across Lake Ontario, down the Saint Lawrence through the Seaway Locks, up the Ottawa River to Montreal, and back through the Rideau canal system.

The Expo had a newly built marina on the island housing the World Fair, where we lived in luxury on POLARIS.

On this cruise, POLARIS was filled with passengers. Besides me, there were Donald and his friend Jon Erickson, Margaret and her husband Ed Zak, DVM., brother Dave's wife Marie, and daughter Melissa. At the Expo, Dave and two more Zaks lived aboard! As the sleeping space had been designed for only six, we were cozy. Army cots filled the floor, and the door to the toilet was blocked, which led to some nocturnal discussions.

We had many close calls, but no disasters. I've already mentioned the Seneca Falls and Seaway locks. Downstream from the locks, we traversed many miles of wilderness belonging to the St. Regis Indian Reservation.

One evening, after traveling all day through the wilds, we started to look for a place to anchor or tie up to a tree. As we turned toward a cove, we passed a small rowboat with a man and a little girl fishing. The man waved violently at us and shouted something in French. We finally understood that he was warning that we were in dangerous shallow rocky water. He also kindly told us that a few miles farther on there was a private dock where sometimes the owner permitted boaters to stay overnight.

A storm was brewing, as we did come to a concrete wall where we tied up. An elderly French gentleman greeted us, invited us to stay and a most pleasant evening followed. He had a lovely home, with a large yard and a huge outdoor covered grill and was entertaining thirty or forty guests, to which he kindly added our motley crew. We had a fine time, but didn't sleep much when we returned to POLARIS because the wind and waves kept banging the boat against the wall. Don and Jon wisely took sleeping bags ashore and slept soundly. They had previously been sleeping on the deck, in spite of mosquitoes.

Then we turned into the deep treacherous black Ottawa River, heading upstream to Montreal. This river is notorious for its many logs, escaped from decades of lumbering, waterlogged and semifloating vertically with top ends just below the surface. They were perfect booby traps to tear out the bottom of the boat!

Once we had arrived at Montreal, we were greeted in style by patrol boats guiding us to the beautiful marina. We felt like honored guests, especially when we learned that we boat people were priveleged to enter the gates of the Expo each morning ahead of any of the other fairgoers. This was really an advantage because it saved us from standing for hours in the long lines. And you can imagine how our grimy crew felt when we saw the clean, modern bathrooms and laundry rooms!

I don't remember any remarkable events on our way home. The Canadian locks are smaller, with neatly kept flower gardens and picnic tables. They were built in the war of 1812, as escape routes for the British fleet.

Our crowded crew were amazingly compatible and uncomplaining (at least to me). Don was always a good right arm and good sport. He and Jon took their turns at being captain and navigator. Don told me later that Jon had expressed his surprise and gratitude that he'd been allowed to run such an expensive boat.

After all these years, both Don and I recently recalled the only time when he got vocally upset. Exploring a side stream, I had sailed into a cul de sac and was headed for a rock wall. I admit that I waited until the last second. Tension mounted, and finally Don said, "For God's sake, stop the boat!" Imitating an imperturbably English gentleman, while stopping, I replied, "Let's be polite about it, shall we?" Don apologized, but I'm the one who should have. Here is a belated apology, Don!