Showing posts with label tugs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tugs. Show all posts

Monday, 24 November 2014

Up The River, But Not Up The Creek, Part One






"...in the face of a hurricane west wind..."
                                  -Gordon Lightfoot




  This time last week, the temperature was below freezing, and the first snow of the season was flying.

   Today, the snow is gone and the temp is positively balmy, but we are getting slammed by a meteorological freight train that hasn't slowed down since it left Kansas.  Steady 40-50 knot winds hurt your face.

   Here's how the Lake looked this afternoon:



     Steady 40-50 knot winds hurt your face.


   So, I figured this a good time to revisit a more placid day in Port Dover.

   It's mid-September, and the weather is well and truly balmy,  not too hot, not too cold, not too humid, not too dry, a little underwindy, but oh, well... one of those late summer/early fall days that are too good and too rare to waste.

   SWMBO and I decided to put it to use by making a Quack run up the River, seeing what we could see.

  Th is is hardly the Canadian equivalent of a Joseph Conrad/ Coppolian saga- the Lynn River is the tributary that inconveniently divides Port Dover...

                                                                                         -image courtesy of portdoverwaterfront.com

..... it is also the source of some small controversy.  As you can see on the map above, the Lynn flows from Northwest to South, through the town of Simcoe, then into the town of Port Dover, where it meets Black Creek, flowing Northeast to South, and then discharges into Long Point Bay.

      The controversy arises below the Y- is the waterway south of the confluence the  Lynn River, or Black Creek?  Some refer to this stretch as "the creek", others as "the river", others, noting that aforementioned body of water has been dredged, widened, straightened and breakwalled, refer to it as "the channel."

       Personally, I figure a creek can flow into a river, yet a river cannot flow into a creek, just as a town can grow into a city, but a city cannot grow into a town...ergo, it is the Lynn River which empties into the Bay, not the Black Creek.

      (Not that anybody really gives a shit. -ed.)

      Er, anywater, we had been up the River and up the Creek dozens of times, always aboard the mothership, but had never turned left and taken the Lynn less travelled, as it were.  Concerns over the uncertainty of draft, airdraft and general  there-are-never-any-sailboats-there-so-sailboats-must-not-be-able-to-go-there logic led us to mark the upper Lower Lynn with "here there be dragons" on our mental chart.

     But, not wishing to leave any local waters unexplored,  we decided to take an hour or so and make a Quack attack.

    We tied up NextBoat opposite the old Misener fish plant, clambered into Quack, our 7 foot long inflatable, cranked up our trusty Suzuki O/B, bid our floating condo adieu...



...and headed upstream.

   We putted past the Port Dover Harbour Museum...


  ... past the new dinghy dock, snapping pics of the intriguing boat tied up...



lifeboat/tender/pilot boat from a freighter?


 ( Please comment if you have any info.)




     ...then under the lift bridge and past the Scruton fleet...







... then past the Bridge Yachts yard, and then past Dave Matthews yard,  into the heart of tug town...


   I admit, I am a sucker for tugs...
















    and who doesn't like a beautiful woody?



  ...  get your minds out of the gutter.












   We pass the Nadro Marine yard...




... bear to port and head up the Lynn, into the elephant's graveyard of the Harry Gamble shipyard.


















  Meanwhile, to starboard...




The juxtaposition between banks is almost jarring.




   and back to our port side...

   



 and then things start to get ...interesting.


     The Gamble yard is acres of old tugs, barges, lifeboats, pleasure craft, engines, winches and rust, covered with an increasingly impenetrable cover of foliage.


      It's intriguing as hell.

We spotted this inlet....



...before we noticed the cottage beside it


 

Of course we had to steer in, to see what we could see...






      As our outboard began to bounce along the bottom, I realized how silted up this basin had become.  That tug  is never leaving again.


      We retreated back to the Lynn and continued upstream.




  More to come later this week.


  Meanwhile,

"Talk the Dock!"







 



 




Monday, 1 August 2011

Tributary Tutorial #3: Tug Town.

      "Nothin' I'd do for you that's too tough for me..."
                                   -The Fabulous Thunderbirds



  When I last bored you to tears waxed rhapsodic about the waters that feed the bay, I left you on the banks of the upper Lynn River. It's time again  to pick up the thread and continue to patch together this crazy quilt of local geography.

     After leaving behind the post-agrarian-industrial ruins along her banks in Simcoe, the mighty Lynn meanders through the Lynn Valley (spot a trend?) to Port Dover.  Here the river briefly widens into a reservoir known as Silver Lake before falling over a controversial dam, past the ruins of Misener's mill, and merging  with Black Creek before exiting into the Bay.   Riddle me this- does the Lynn River become Black Creek downstream of the fork, or does the Creek become the River?  My money is on river, but it is unclear on the charts.   I'm pretty sure a creek can empty into a river but a river cannot empty into a creek.   Anystream, this is where the last  of Port Dover's heavy-metal workboats reside.  

     This is Tug Town.




    This is the off-hours home to dredges, barge haulers, tugs and  tour boats.  It's also home to a number of converted pleasure tugs.  I'll let the pictures tell the story.














   This is also where the elephants come to die- Gamble's shipyard.

















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