This morning started cool, a bit hazy, but soon turned into a fine, sunny day. At 8:30 when we left, the water was flat, with no wind, and no other boaters on the water.
The southern section of Lake Champlain is narrower and sparsely populated. The sailors seem to stay in the northern portion, and except for the occasional fisherman or runabout, the trip was serene and beautiful.
The hills surrounding Lake Champlain became larger, morphing
into the dark green shades of the Adirondacks.
Inside the sounds were the whirring of the engine and the sloshing of water alongside. I spent much of the time sitting on the bow, just taking it all in. Outside there was only the sloshing of water and the occasional bass boat zooming by
Clarke and Evelyn on Sea Moss caught up with us at around 11:30; they can travel faster than we can, so we fell in behind them as they slowed to trawler speed to better enjoy the scenery.
Our trip down Lake Champlain to us past many historic sites. One of the highlights was Fort Ticonderoga.
A floating Clorox bottle appeared from nowhere, and as we neared it, I noticed it was attached to what looked like a piece of a float. It looked like some kind trap or mooring, and I thought we would nudge by it on the starboard side. Thom never even saw it at all. Thunk! We hit something hard. The boat leaned over, straightened up, and Thom throttled down. We radioed Sea Moss that we’d hit something, described the Clorox bottle, and heard a new voice over the radio say “That marks a submerged log.” We immediately began checking our bilges and compartments to make sure we hadn’t punctured the hull. Thom checked the prop for vibration and rudder function. All seemed ok, and we resumed our travel rather shaken.
Once we arrived at Whitehall, Clark donned a mask and dove in to check for damage. He found one scrape, but nothing serious.