Guest Blogger: The Journey Home - Dude'n It.

Hi,

I'm the (step) son-in-law, Ben. This is the story of the journey home - The Guy's Trip:

When “The Dudes" and I met Uncorked in Toronto she was happy to learn that all of her female passengers had departed. This was the last leg of her voyage and she knew that only the bravest of brave would steer her home across the wilds of the North American Great Lakes. At her helm was Captain Vertin (as usual) with the tiller in one hand and a bottle of Grand Marnier in the other. On her bow was Tommy, a mildly overweight yet capable first mate (note: by birthright). On her stern was Dickey, prematurely balding, but no less knowledgeable by second mate standards. In the galley was the cook/ (step) son-in-law; a bit short in stature but mildly good looking and a whiz with freezer-burned shrimp and granulated garlic.

Day/Night 1: As I noted, the adventure began in Toronto. Labatt 50 was the beer of taste that evening as the crew eagerly devoured their steaks seasoned with only the finest green-colored salts mined from wild Canadian volcanoes (seriously). Bored with taunting waitresses, crashing weddings (don’t ask), and unsuccessful duck hunting from Uncorked’s swim platform (with breadcrumbs and a fish gaff), they decided to hit the rack early. A big day was to follow: Two countries and 320 vertical feet of Wellington Canal Locks were ahead.

Day 2/Night 2: Day two started early, the crew was startled by the rumbling of Uncorked’s diesels at O-seven-hundred. They all knew Captain Vertin was awake……and hung-over. A brisk run across Lake Ontario brought them to the foot of the day’s endeavor. Curiously, myth and legend told that the Wellington Locks could be traversed in no less than 8 to 10 hours. After a warm up bloody mary, Uncorked made quick work of those ramparts in less than 6 hours without a scuff on her rub rail (ok, a little one - stern lines should not be manned by a cook). Erie, PA was the port of call. “Yard Bird” and euchre were on the menu.

Day 3/Night 3: Uncorked was spared overnight as tornadoes tossed the great lakes states, but she sustained 30 knot winds while heavy rains strained her lines. The crew slept somewhat soundly only to wake and realize that the daytime goal of reaching Mecca (Put-In-Bay, OH) was looking unlikely. After a hot breakfast served by twin waitresses and jell-coat scuff by a couple of drunk teens on a wind-strewn 84 Wellcraft, Captain Vertin elected to try his luck on the 6-10 foot seas. Uncorked is a large vessel, no doubt, but she was built for the warm water of the inland FL Keys, not the tempestuous chill of eastern Lake Erie after twelve hours of NW 30 knot winds. The freefalls sheered bolts, split refrigerator racks, and after only 40 minutes the Uncorked crew was disheveled by their predicament…………and then there was vomit…………lots of vomit.

Pulling the rip cord, Captain Vertin plotted a course. Ashtabula, OH was the savior……three hours and forty miles after leaving Erie, PA. Affectionately called “The Armpit of Lake Erie,” ancient, rusted and mostly vacant, Ashtabula proved to be nothing less.

Day 4: The crew awoke again to the rumbling of the Uncorked diesels. Captain Vertin was pumped for the journey home. A brisk 20 knot pace and 2-3 foot seas brought Uncorked to Put-In-Bay by 11:00am where rum runners and pizza entertained their weary souls. After a few cocktails, topless sunbathing, some fuel and a much needed pump-out, the voyagers were on their way. As they passed by Middle Sister Island and up the shoots of the southern Detroit river, the sulfur of the foundries caressed their nostrils (the holding tank was now clean, so by process of elimination……). The home waters of Lake Saint Clair were sweet and a welcomed reward after traversing Lake Ontario, The Wellington Canal and Lake Erie (lengthwise) without a functioning GPS.

The Old Club, Harsens Island, MI – Home Port: The boat well was shallow and the crew half-drunk (mostly drunk), but Uncorked managed to find her way home. As the journey came to and end the captain adopted the second mate into his family as “his new son”, the first mate drove home as he was the closest to sober, and the cook, overjoyed, relished in the fact that for a fleeting five minutes he was allowed to drive (chaperoned) the 50 ft private yacht…Uncorked.