Solitude at Davis Lock . . . with a chuckle

8 June 2009, 1730 hours, Davis Lock

There’s not a cloud in the sky as we wake up to a bright, sunny day in Portland.

The Admiral makes a breakfast of the double-smoked bacon from Pan Chancho in Kingston and French toast made from the see-it-again Maritime Brown bread from Westport and drizzled with honey. After breakfast, a hike of 20 minutes takes us all around the village.

Portland has all the basics: a grocery store, an LCBO (Liquor Control Board of Ontario) outlet and a pizza parlor.

Then we’re off to Davis Lock, Lock 38 on the Rideau, generally considered the prettiest lock on the waterway. Which we can attest it is, tranquil, bucolic—and we have the place all to ourselves. (Ah, the beauty of shoulder-season cruising!)


Cruising doesn’t get better than this: freshly made crostini topped with garlic-parmesan butter and/or country-style pate, a wine called Frisky Zebra Seductive Shiraz, Zamfir on the iPod, finches singing in the tree-tops and a lovely view of Opinicon Lake and a small bay right beside At Last!

We are all alone. The lockmasters have all gone home and the locks have shut down. We are here for the night.

Just when we thought we had the place to ourselves, with peace and quiet prevailing, two of the lockstaff show up because the tour boat, Chuckles, photo below, was late in making it back to Chaffey’s, one lock above us. Chuckles locks through, and we have Davis Lock to ourselves at last.


The Captain promises to broil honey-garlic sausage that we purchased at the Farmer’s Market in Smiths Falls from Margo who is from nearby Elgin.

We feast, and as dusk turns to dark, and rain begins to pitter-patter on the pilothouse roof, we head for bed.


Davis Lock is deserted except for our little home afloat.