At Clayton, New York, where Lake Ontario flows into the St. Lawrence River at the location of the (almost) Thousand Islands, we stopped at the Antique Boat Museum. This has a huge collection of wooden boats, ranging from 1700's birchbark Indian canoes to sailboats to hundred-thousand-dollar power boats, every one in tip-top condition.

Power units ranged from the original one-lung naptha put-putts to 12-cylinder Packard-built Rolls-Royce Merlin engines; the same ones used in the famous P-51 Mustangs.

Some of the boats, even though in the Museum, are still privately owned and their owners take them out on pleasant summer days. Some will take passengers for joy-rides on the Lake.

One of the more interesting comments from our guide, who was an administrator of the Museum, was that each boat gets a new coat of varnish at least every two years, and no polyurethane allowed, only the best spar varnish available - and the boats reflected that care!

The St. Lawrence River at this point forms the boundary between Canada and the US. The islands in the river are partly in Ontario and partly in New York State. At one time there was considerable confusion about the border, so a working group was set up to survey the islands and determine the actual boundary lines.

After a few miles of trying to establish a straight line, they tired of the job and secured a boat. As they cruised down the St. Lawrence, if they went to the right of an island, they determined it belonged to Canada; if they passed to the left, it was obviously US territory. The result, of course, is that the border is just as crooked and incomprehensible as ever.

Perhaps that is preferable to splitting some islands in half, thus requiring one to get through Customs and Immigrations to go to the grocery!

In the 1860's George Boldt came to America from Prussia. He made a fortune in the hotel/restaurant industries in New York. He fell in love with the Thousand Island district and bought a "fishing shack" on an island in the river. Later he decided to build a bigger, better summer home on the island, so during the winter when the river was frozen he had the shack pulled across the ice and set up on the bank. (We've seen the "shack", which is equivalent to most of the luxury homes in the area.)

He set about constructing the new building as a tribute to his much-loved wife. It developed as a huge 120-room, six-story castle, modeled after the 16th century castles of Europe. He also built, on a small nearby island, his boathouse. It had a thirty-foot high main door, because his sailboat had a tall mast and it had to fit into the boathouse without alteration. To make matters convenient he had a tunnel dug to serve as an entry for supplies and groceries.

In the midst of all this building his wife died, and he sent a telegram from New York City ordering that all construction cease immediately. He never went back to the island.

From 1904 to 1977 the castle remained incomplete and unoccupied, deteriorating drastically. Then Mr. Boldt's heirs deeded the island to the New York Thousand Islands Bridge Authority, which is trying to renovate the buildings.

Now tourists can stroll through the empty, unfinished rooms and speculate about how it might have appeared if completed.

Farther down the river, where it divides Ontario and Quebec, lives a gentleman who has for years saluted passing ships - and there are many, since the St. Lawrence is a deep-water seaway. As each of the international fleet passes, he raises the flag of that ship's nation on a pole next to the Canadian flag; not only that, but he has a loud loudspeaker system playing their national anthem! Our captain told us that he has been doing this for many years, and he never misses!

The seafaring world will miss him when he is no longer able to continue this remarkable salute.

Farther down river is the city of Montreal. We had a day there to explore the historic and architectural sights. We took a bus tour of the city, seeing such places as the Plains of Abraham, where Generals Wolfe and Montcalm faced off. Montreal being primarily French and Roman Catholic, is very proud of its early missions, churches and cathedrals and there are lots of them.

The waterfront area of the city is undergoing a renovation of sorts. All along the riverfront huge warehouses and granaries are being converted to condominiums. One huge old building had three small structures on the roof. The conversions of these three will soon go on sale for three million each. A lot of money, maybe, but what a marvelous view!

Montreal, being in inland Canada is sub-Arctic and very frigid in winter. To combat the weather, much of trendy downtown Montreal has been developed underground. It is quite possible and comfortable to walk from store to store to restaurant to theater without surfacing. I don't know if Montrealeans come up on February 2nd to see whether their shadows are visible. I do know that in early October it was cold, windy, drizzly - and fascinating!

Quebec is even farther down river, and is perhaps a little less cosmopolitan than Montreal. The Quebecois, as evidenced by the citizens of Quebec City, seem to be intensely proud of their French heritage, even to the detriment of their relations with non-French-speaking visitors. Quebec is an interesting city regardless.

In the early days there was very little communication between Eastern Canada and the prairie provinces and British Columbia. It was obvious that Canada could not become a strong unified country without railroad connections between East and West so after years of financial and political maneuvering the Canadian National Railway was completed.

The next problem was that there was no place to stay on the trip (this was before sleepers or Pullman cars), so the CNR built a string of grand hotels in strategic places along the route.

One of these is the Chateau Frontenac, a huge luxurious castle-like hotel soaring above Quebec City. We took a tour of this building and were met by a young lady in a maid's uniform, who claimed she had been working there for 120 years. She took us to see some of the guest rooms, also dining and ballrooms.

It is possible to take a funicular railway (sort of an elevator on tracks) from the street up to the hotel level; and it is also possible to climb twenty-one flights of stairs to get there.

Well, at least I had sense enough to ride the funicular back down!

The next morning at 6:00 we were loaded onto buses, waved goodbye to the ship and crew and started back to Warren. The highway took us back up the St. Lawrence to Montreal before swinging south to Vermont. It was surprising to see how short that leg of the trip was when travelling at highway speeds instead of the Niagara Prince's stately 10 knots.

At noon we stopped for lunch at a ramshackle restaurant in St. Johnsbury, Vermont. Surprisingly, the restaurant was already occupied by a group of ACCL customers. They were on their way to Quebec to meet the Niagara Prince, and take the same trip in reverse. We attempted to speak with some of them, but they didn't seem to be in the mood.

So, back on the bus! We drove into New Hampshire in the White Mountains and through the Franconia Notch area. This has been for many years one of the most attractive tourist areas of New England. It also happens to be where First Rose and I spent our honeymoon. Down through Massachusetts then Rhode Island and to Warren.

Got off the bus and couldn't find our car! It was in the parking lot all right, but some one had moved it behind a huge motor home and completely out of sight. Finally located it. Back to Hope Valley and our friends' house. Spent the next day touring around half-remembered places, and on the following day we started on the trip home.

Rose had never seen Maine, so we started our trip west by going north. We stayed overnight in Freeport so we could see the L. L. Bean store. Sure enough, it was a store. A big one, but nothing special.

Next day we crossed the border back into Quebec and spent a portion of the day driving over the same route the bus had taken. By nightfall we had reached Montreal and got royally lost trying to get across the river. Sorted that out and spent the night at a ski resort north of Montreal.

From that point on it was just miles of highway. Quebec may be the largest of the provinces but Ontario is surely the widest! It took two full days to cross it.

In Thunder Bay we had the unwelcome experience of having a rock crash almost completely through our windshield and sprinkling Rose wirh glass. Luckily she was not hurt and it was not in the driver's line of vision.

After Ontario, miles of Manitoba, Saskatchewan, Alberta, British Columbia and finally Idaho and Washington.

The trip home was probably shorter than our meanderings east, but there was less to see and do, many of the tourist attractions were closed for the season, and by this time we were anxious to be home.

It was an interesting trip, and we might do the Canal part again some time if time and health permit.