It was a long day, but relatively easy day of sailing. We had a very nice, quiet night on the hook. The hook came up clean when we pulled it up at about 7:20 and set our course up the St. Lawrence River.

The first major attraction was Canada’s first capital city, Kingston. The traffic picked up a bit and we had a kite surfer ride along around for a while. The ride itself was mostly smooth. As we moved along the waterway between the mainland of Canada and the various islands, it was fine. With a wind picking up to 15 mph or so out of the south, it got a bit wavy when we passed between islands and caught the full fetch of Lake Ontario. That was just a couple of times, however, and we push up the throttle a little to get through it.

As we entered the Bay of Quinte, those times were over. We passed by several little towns and a couple of ferries. After we passed Belleville and the Norris-Whitney Bridge, we would see Trenton coming up. There is a large Air Force base near Trenton and we could see the planes coming and going. We also passed a group of 4 or 5 small inflatable boats where it looked like they were training.

We followed the channel into the river and radioed the marina on vhf 68. They were super helpful and two friendly young ladies came out to help us tie in. It was a peaceful enough day that we probably could have done it ourselves, but we always appreciate the help.

Now that we had officially landed in Canada, it was time to check in with the border patrol. We had already done the online part through the ArriveCAN app. I thought that we had to check in at the marina with the border folks. I grabbed our passports and other relevant papers and went up to the marina office.

I checked in at the desk and the young lady gave me our marina key cards. I thanked her and asked where I go for immigration. She looked at me weirdly and said, “you just call them.” Oops. For the record, I may recall that Wendy told me that we had to call, but I’m sure I’m misremembering that. [Wendy here: I told him EXACTLY that!]

Being an illegal immigrant now, I hustled back to the boat and called the border patrol. After 10 minutes on hold, a woman asked me a bunch of questions. I must have gotten them right because they game me a confirmation number and said that was it.

By then it had started to rain. We went to the nearby Metro grocery store to confirm that they do, indeed, call Canadian bacon just “bacon” in Canada (they do), and took a short walk through the main street before heading back to the boat for the night.