Richard is a fellow member at Cathedral Bluffs YC, and loves to fish. Earnie runs the restaurant at CBYC.
Richard left this story in the comments today:

So there we were in Belleville, myself, Tristan and even Earnie, on his day off from the CBYC restaurant, fishing, when I looked up and saw the familiar yellow hull of Zeelandia, in full sail heading west and looking magnificent in her calm, steady passage through the Bay of Quinte.

I was hoping that you would stop at the municipal marina, where we were staying, but sadly saw your sail pass by the gap and onward westward. It was at that point that I regretted not getting a picture of you with my cell phone. Damn, I said to Earnie and he’s not stopping.

With no fish to haul out, we headed back to the boat from the park where we had been and once at the boat, I looked out where the Moira river meets the Bay of Quinte and deposits its silt and sitting awkwardly in the middle of that muck, who should I spot? Yup, both Earnie and I got our photoshoot, though far less glamorous, of poor Zeelandia stuck in the mud and listing to port from the force of the strong wind.

We watched the successful rescue and waved her on as Zeelandia got back into the channel.

I tried calling you on 16, but no luck, so here’s just to let you know that we thought of you and talked much about you and wished you a safe rest of trip.

Richard, Tristan and Earnie.

Hey Richard and Earnie!
I wish I weren’t the dumbass stuck in the mud in this great story!
(In my defense, my navionics chartplotter shows 10ft depth in that exact spot)
See you soon.  Dave.

Zeelandia is now peacefully docked in the Old Port of Montreal, the Montreal Yacht Club at the foot of the city and right next to the old clock tower that was used for centuries to register the exact time of arrival when a ship passed it. Very posh here but I decided to treat myself for my 45th birthday yesterday.
So here I am, steps from the very same cobblestone that has been walked on by sailors from distant ports for over 350 years.

You’ll notice I’m the only sailboat here. well, the current out front runs 5 plus knots and that’s pretty fast for sailboats. There were times I was going zero as I slowly clawed my way into this harbour.

I have been biking all around and I’m loving all the sights that this historic city has to offer. Funny thing, I haven’t taken many pictures because it’s all so photogenically overwhelming. Literally every where I look is a postcard photograph. I’m watching the buskers, browsing the street markets, listening to the clacking of hooves on the cobblestone, lovers holding hands everywhere (rubbing it in).
I had a blast at a little pond where they rented remote control sailboats. I was blue#3 and I set up a ’round the bouys’ race with some kid(orange#7) and his little sister(green#2). he won, I was neck and neck with his sister when the rental guy had the nerve to call time over. He wouldn’t accept the toonie I offered to buy us a bit more time.

This photo from the top of the clock tower showing the “beach” that runs along the wharf.

The clock tower from my cockpit last night.

Okay, here’s a crazy story that I’m not even sure could have really happened. I’m still waiting to wake up as I type this. seriously.:
I biked up to the grocery store today, an IGA in the middle of the city. Grabbed some beer, about a million mr.noodles and some fruit (to prevent scurvy). My nephew, Jeff, arrives tomorrow morning and I’ll need to feed his hollow leg. When I came out of the IGA  my bike was… GONE! My beloved Specialized Stumpjumper with all the custom mods to fit me and only me. Gawd how I love that bike and anyone who knows me knows this to be putting it mildly. My heart sank and continued to sink as I cabbed it back to the boat and hung my head in despair. Then I decided to go fill out a report at the police station which was only about a block from where it was stolen. When I got out of there I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go walking around and see if I could spot it. Well no more than a half hour later I was standing on a street corner when I heard a familiar creaking noise that could only be coming from the gooseneck on MY bike. I turned around and leaped on the cyclist who was passing literally right by me. I held his throat in a blind rage and let him know in no uncertain terms that he was about to die. Fear and tears welled up in his eyes and he begged for mercy while pleading that he had just bought it for $60. So I demanded he take me to the guy who sold it to him. We started down the road when I saw a cop car parked a ways down the street and I called “police”, the guy started booking it the other way but I continued towards the cop car. No police in the car, and the guy had disappeared. So I rode back to the police station, told the same officer who took my report only 1 hour prior what had just happened. He shook his head, then shook my hand and said I must be the luckiest guy ever because this never, EVER, happens. Now I’m not going to get all ‘mystical’ on ya, but I’d swear that bicycle and I made our way back to each other out of pure love.
today’s french lesson: vol de vélo translates to bicycle stolen

some random pics..