Travellers

They say the worst thing on a boat is a schedule that forces you to be in a particular place at a set time. To meet the deadline, one is tempted to go out when one shouldn’t or cruise faster than is prudent. The same thing applies to boondocking; the art of “dry camping,” in an RV without water, sewer, or electrical connections. 

My brother Jim and his partner Jan are masters of boondocking having travelled Canada, the US, and to Panama and back. For the last several years they have been in Whitehorse, arriving just before COVID slammed the door on travel. While there, Jan worked as a project manager for Colliers and Jim used his considerable skills to renovate a series of house trailers. Together they bought and sold a number of properties -“moiling for gold”.

During the winter, we had several conversations about us re-starting our voyage on the Great Loop and when they were going to terminate their sojourn in the land of the midnight sun. Tentative plans were made to meet “somewhere” in the mid-west, possibly in the fall or late summer, along the banks of the Illinois, Mississippi, Ohio, or Tennessee river. Nothing specific but a mutual desire to get to together if possible.

Fast forward to July. We were heading down the eastern shore of Lake Michigan with a very loose schedule to put us in Chicago for the August long weekend. Jim and Jan were in Calgary for the Stampede before heading to Ontario. It looked like Lake Michigan’s north-south orientation was going to foil a rendezvous. 

But a little tweek here and there, saw us bolt down the last third of Lake Michigan’s eastern shore to find empty slips. Jim and Jan stopped in Winnipeg to visit one of his childhood friends and bingo! The stars aligned and we managed a two day visit in Hammond, Indian. Not the most desirable of destination – in fact, it is one of the dreariest places we have been on the boat. 

But that meant there was little to distract us from telling stories and catching up. So glad to have seen them and we are looking forward to future visits.

“Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;
So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.”

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Tales of a Wayside Inn