The beautiful weather we were waiting to enjoy greeted us the next morning. We began the long process of passing through the forty-seven locks that carry a boater from Ottawa to Kingston, Ontario, where Lake Ontario flows into the St. Lawrence River. The Rideau Canal system is a popular cruising destination through a stretch of Canadian wilderness that features incredible scenery and astonishing ingenuity. After the War of 1812, the British were looking for a way to connect Upper and Lower Canada without risking encountering American forces on the St. Lawrence River. The Duke of Wellington, who gained lasting fame by defeating Napoleon at Waterloo, advocated the construction of what would become the Rideau Canal waterway. Between 1826 and 1832, a construction force led by Colonel John By constructed a series of forty-seven locks and fifty-two dams in addition to digging canals to connect rivers and lakes. The end product was a 125-mile water artery that connects Kingston, Lower Canada, to Ottawa, Upper Canada. The Rideau Canal waterway passes through a series of picturesque lakes, canals and locks along its route. The canal system is a marvel of engineering and ingenuity. Much of the work was accomplished using a pickaxe, shovel and wheelbarrow. The stones for the locks often had to be quarried miles away and then transported during the winter by farmers using sleds and oxen. The lock gates were built on the lock sites by blacksmiths and carpenters. Simple mechanical tools such as lifting cranes assisted by horses or oxen were used to move stones and gates. A single gate can weigh up to five tons. Even today, most locks are operated by hand. A boat enters the enclosure which is 134 feet long and 33 feet...... middle of paper ...... were sailboats. Kingston was to become the venue for the sailing portion of the 1976 Olympics. I guided our return through the quiet passages between shoals and islands past several waterfront restaurants, four or five marinas and numerous cottages which constitute Ivy Lea. After dodging the lightning on the road to Isle Raymond and the “dead heads” on the Ottawa River, I yawned as the Consuelo drove serenely through an area that the uninitiated consider dangerous. As we approached the Comfort Island dock, I noticed several members of Mom's afternoon "focus group" who had seen us arrive and were waiting to celebrate our return. Our landing was as if we were following a script. The clock struck five, and while Topper went to check for new scents, we all stayed on board to recount the adventure over a refreshing libation...