The Murray Canal ends at Presqu’ile Bay. I paddled south through the bay to the tip of the Presqu’ile Peninsula, on the other side of which is Lake Ontario. It had been another long day into the wind, and I was glad to find a spot on the lake side of the peninsula to beach the boat and set up camp. I had gotten an early start, and stopped early since the wind was even stronger on the big lake. So I had to time to fix a more complex dinner: instant rice mixed with instant curry. I was just finishing my dinner when a handsome guy carrying a sail bag came sauntering down the beach. He said hi, asked me what I was up to, and then wanted to know all about my trip. “Hey,” he said, “you want to go sailing with me? My boat’s beached on the other side of the peninsula, and I’m just going out for a bit.” I said sure. I put my cooking stuff away while he rigged his boat, and we were on the water 15 minutes later. “Want a beer?” he asked. Same answer I gave him concerning sailing. His name was Andy, and we hit it off immediately. He’s a building designer and carpenter from Toronto, here at the family cottage on Presqu’ile with his mother and two sons for the weekend. In his 40s, he’s traveled throughout North America and Asia, He’s divorced, but he and the kids’ mom share custody, and he has a partner, Sue, that he’s crazy about, The 15-foot Albacore was slowly filling with water — “Must be a bit of a leak somewhere” — the tiller was splinted with tape and a scrap of wood, and the bottom corner of the jib was attached with bit of nylon twine, but it was clear he knew what he was doing, and we had a fine time. We returned to the beach, and he told me he had to cook dinner for his mum and the kids, but did I want to come down in an hour for a drink? I gave him the usual answer. About an hour later, he called my cell and said his boys, James and Jasper, and their friend, William, were on the way to get me. Ten minutes later, a couple of Japanese-Canadian boys and a curly blond boy were leading me to the cottage. When I entered, I was greeted by his appropriately-named mother, Grace, and a table filled with food; they had waited for me to have dinner with them. Salad, wine, and the first chicken I’ve had in 20 years. They all were so interested in my trip! After dinner, Andy took me down the street to a party of his friends. They had all Googled me and knew more about me than I did. It was well past midnight before they led me back to Seaweed. On the way back, Andy’s friend, Pete, stopped at his cottage. He came back out and presented me with a small canoe paddle he’d carved, etched with a pair of loons.