Slow Boat

Reminder: For bonus pix, remember to like and follow the SlowBoat Facebook page, which has some updates on our final days in Canada: chasing a mountain and traveling back in time at a French-Canadian fort.

On July 19, we reluctantly said goodbye to the quaint French-Canadian towns along the Richelieu and crossed the imaginary line back into the United States.

Just like that, we had entered a new stage of our trip: Lake Champlain.

Anything to Declare?

Back in June, our entrance into Canada had been casual: I made a phone call from the dock, and voila! we had cleared customs.

 Our cruising guides said the same would be true as we returned to the States. So we set a course for the first marina past the border.

You can't run from the law in a SlowBoat. Now if only that bridge were lower . . .

That's when we heard a blaring horn and then a voice, on a loudspeaker. A pilot boat came speeding toward us, blazoned with the word "Sheriff" and with--yes--blue lights flashing.

Those cruising guides were out of date. We did indeed need to stop at the tiny U.S. Customs trailer on the hill.

We admitted to bringing in a couple cans of beer. The customs agent didn't even ASK about pepper spray!

We could be an excellent stealth Homeland Security vessel. Bad guys wouldn't suspect a thing!