LOOP LETTERS: Reflections on Looping aboard the Affection

  • 2026 Great Lakes Loop: July 16-22: Preparation

    Dear Honorary Loopers,

    Week 1 of our Great Lakes Loop (July 16-22) was all about preparation, as we oversaw mechanics, cleaned, tidied, and unpacked, and provisioned the boat.  The Affection moved only a few hundred feet, from one side of the St Lawrence to the other, and then a few miles upstream, to Clayton, staying close to Alexandria Bay and the continuing repairs. 

    Week 2 of the Great Lakes Loop (July 23-29) felt like the first real week of the voyage, as we shifted modes from preparation to progress, the boat began to cover distance, and we began to live aboard again.

    As I look back over the logbook for those first two “re-entry” weeks, I note recurring themes rather than new daily itineraries and adventures.   In these first two “catch-up” posts (Week 1 this time, Week 2 next time), I’ll focus on the themes rather than recounting the daily events. 

    Week 1: Preparation

    What’s New – Firsts

    During the preparatory week, the mechanics made some final improvements, fixed several existing issues, and helped fix some new ones.

    The two new aluminum fuel tanks are secured by stainless steel straps to the superstructure of the boat.  On inspection, Jeff realized that there was no insulation separating the two metals, as there had been on the old tanks. 

    Science lesson: in the presence of moisture or salt, galvanic corrosion (electrolysis) results when stainless steel touches aluminum, resulting in the aluminum, acting as a sacrificial anode, deteriorating. Applied science: the mechanics loosened every strap and inserted a layer of insulation.  There was no additional financial cost to us, but the job took several long days of labor, so we had to stay close to A-Bay.

    Two additional cleats were installed in the aft cockpit, so we could hang fenders for docking separately from the dock lines, something the deckhand (me) had wanted for a long time.😊

    On the trip to Clayton, I smelled a strong odor of diesel up on the bridge. After long seconds of sniffing various parts of the boat (my first thought, of course, was the place where the old fuel tanks had leaked- thank goodness that problem was solved by the new tanks!), I enlisted Jeff’s help.  He quicky identified the cause – the mechanics had re-installed a valve wrong that pushed fuel from one fuel tank to the other, and it was pushing fuel out of the boat!   A quick fix, and a valuable lesson about assuming other people will always do things right – don’t!   

    Approaching Clayton, as Jeff tried to maneuver out of the channel and into the marina, he discovered that the starboard engine wouldn’t respond to him pulling back on the throttle to slow our speed.  While he tried to slow us down, I radioed to the marina staff and alerted them that we were in distress.  They quicky reassigned us to a slip where no other boat was docked, and we came in bow first instead of turning and backing into the slip as we usually do.  Several dockhands and other boaters came out to help, and we made it safely in, avoiding the brand-new power pedestal on that section of the dock.  It turned out that the marina staff was as relieved as we were – another boat had recently taken out that same section of dock!  

    The mechanics tried to diagnose the problem, but it was our Detroit diesel guru Carlo, back in Ft Lauderdale, who solved the mystery.  In climbing over the engine in the course of doing other work, someone had pushed a lever to a new position, and it interfered with the throttle mechanism.  Simple fix, lesson learned. Thanks (as always), Carlo!

    There were other firsts, including:

    –Watching a horse and buggy commute to and from work along the highway in front of our motor lodge in Alexandria Bay.  I assume the Amish driver was commuting, because I saw the same buggy go one direction early in the morning and the other direction in the evening.  It was pure happenstance that I caught sight of the rapidly moving conveyance.  Every morning I spent a few minutes in the rocking chair thoughtfully provided for the front porch of every unit.  That rocking chair time was a delightful lagniappe, a little something extra that gave me joy. 

    Seeing wildlife around the TI Club: Canada geese, gulls, a doe, a turkey, and a loon. One morning I watched a heron fly low across the harbor going downstream. That evening I saw a heron – the same? fly low upstream – a commuter like the Amish farmer?  Another lagniappe: one evening, listening to the familiar call of the geese as they flew by, I realized that the call and response was a major third interval!  Who knew that geese were musical? 

    What’s Familiar / Continuity

    As we prepared for the voyage, we revisited a Watertown eatery, the Bad Apple Garage, where insults are served along with delicious tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.  We hired the same taxi driver from October, Bubba, to take us back to Alexandria Bay from Watertown once we returned the rental car.  These repeat experiences felt like coming home, in the way that a cab ride home from the airport feels comforting once the driver turns onto our street.

    Who We Met

    In A-Bay we ate at a new restaurant, the Old Homestead. The waiter looked familiar, and we looked familiar to him. It turned out that Skyler had waited on us at a different restaurant in October 2025, when we put the boat in storage.  What are the odds? 

    In Clayton, we had a lovely reunion dinner with the crew of L’Attitude Adjustment, Loopers we had met on the Mississippi River and traveled with for several days.  Walt and Sarah had been fellow witnesses to one of the saddest events we experienced on the Loop, the death of a beloved dog belonging to the Loopers on Queen Mary.  That shared experience, and our experiences rafting up together, had created a bond that lasted two years without any contact. They also remembered Jeff’s advice from two years ago:  when asked whether he would fix our sewage disposal system himself: he had evidently said, “Just pay the man” (hire someone else to handle that unpleasant task) – they never forgot it!

    Where We Went and What We Did There

    In Wellesley Island (Thousand Islands Club), I thoroughly enjoyed using all the amenities.  They had a hammock strung between two poles near the docks. I made a point of lying in that hammock every day for at least a few minutes, practicing slowing down, watching the clouds drift by, and sinking into utter relaxation. I also sat for a while one evening in one of the Adirondack chairs placed around the firepit, watching myriad insects flirt with death above the flames. 

    While at the TI Club, we took the dinghy out, testing the engine (and figuring out why it intermittently wouldn’t start – we couldn’t blame that issue on the mechanics!) and visiting the Boldt Castle Boathouse nearby.  The original construction had three bays for George Boldt’s various sailboats, with a soaring ceiling to accommodate the sailboat masts, and a suspended ventilation tube to allow the steamship engine to be run inside. 

    Later Boldt added a fourth bay to house his 104-foot-long houseboat (really a floating barge – it had no engine), La Duchesse.  We had missed the chance on Loop 1 to tour La Duchesse (which now resides at the Clayton Wooden Boat Museum), but I had bought a monogrammed sweater with the logo, and nursed a desire to go onboard the historic vessel this time around. It was great to see its erstwhile berth. And when we got to Clayton, we fulfilled my long-held dream, finally touring the beautifully restored, elegant vessel.

    What We Learned

    The fuel valve, throttle lever, and strap insulation were some of the many “cleanup” issues we were faced with after the mechanics finished their work.   Most were small: sealant and glue on carpets, ladder rungs and ceilings; stray screws left lying around on counters and shelves; wood doors they reinstalled upside down; and the 50-amp electrical cable that we used to plug the boat in during the winter, which was missing when we got the boat back (well, that wasn’t so small)… 

    The cleanup highlighted something we believe: a job isn’t done until all messes are cleaned up, all tools are put away, and all stray screws are accounted for.  Not everyone understands or pays attention to this precept. Jeff tries to give constructive feedback to people we hire, so they can benefit from his observations.  We never know how these suggestions will be received, but it feels important to contribute to improvements in practices – and we never know who will benefit.  Maybe the next Looper who gets work done by these mechanics…

    Science lesson: in the presence of moisture or salt, galvanic corrosion (electrolysis) results when stainless steel touches aluminum, resulting in the aluminum, acting as a sacrificial anode, deteriorating. Applied science: the mechanics loosened every strap and inserted a layer of insulation.  There was no additional financial cost to us, but the job took several long days of labor, so we had to stay close to A-Bay.

    Meticulously😊,

    Judy

  • 2026-8-3 Back Onboard: Acclimating, Adjusting and Practicing

    Dear Honorary Loopers,

    As promised, this Loop Letter describes our transition back to life onboard Affection and the start of this year’s section of the Loop.  But first, some context: what exactly is it we’re doing, back on Affection? 

    Last year, we cruised north from Florida up the East Coast and the Hudson River, then through the Champlain Canal to the St. Lawrence River, the Ottawa River and the Rideau Canal. We visited Montreal, Quebec City, Ottawa and Kingston, exploring the eastern end of Lake Ontario and the Thousand Islands.

    This year we envisioned exploring all five Great Lakes, but that’s too ambitious, especially in the short boating season remaining.  So we’ve scaled back to just two: Lake Ontario and Lake Erie.    

    Here’s our best guess at an itinerary:  

    • July 16-August 8: Thousand Islands, then follow the north shore of Lake Ontario around to the west to Toronto, Ontario (we just completed this part).
    • August 8-19: Florida, for the MusicFor Americas Summer Strings festival  throughout South Florida. 
    • August 19-September 3: Back to Canada, from Toronto southwest to the Welland Canal and through the Canal into Lake Erie.
    • September 4-8: New York, for our friend Randy’s son’s wedding.
    • September 8-October ??: back to Lake Erie’s southern shore, until we run out of good weather and have to put the boat into winter storage again.

    This itinerary is aspirational, as we are very familiar with everything that can go wrong with plans. The less we plan (a boat in this marina is named “Listless” – a worthy goal!), the more open we can be to the serendipitous joys found along the way. These joys, spontaneous and surprising, are a reliable antidote to the pain, sadness and stress that is too much with us too much of the time.  

    Back to our reunion with Affection… During the first few days back onboard, I realized several things:

    I needed to acclimate

    During our ski trips this winter, I observed how my body responded to the high altitude (compared with coastal Florida), needing more naps and feeling dehydrated and a little headachy.  When I got back onboard Affection, I noticed similar changes in my body after almost ten months of landlife.  I was getting more tired after a day’s climbing up and down the boat stairs, and needed more naps.  I also noticed less secure balance; I needed to pay more attention to walking on narrow finger piers.  

    My mind took longer to adjust than my body did

    Flying somewhere brings us there incredibly fast (regardless of delays and cancellations), but only my body really arrives when the plane lands.  My mind takes days longer to settle into being in the new location. 

    During the flight up to Syracuse I entered a state of suspended mental animation: I paused all thought about the upcoming reality, and just vacated mentally. 

    That meant the two-hour car trip from Syracuse to Alexandria Bay was crucially important.  That’s when I actually started to travel to the boat mentally, in a gradually unfolding process. 

    First, I noticed things around the car, like the strangely orange sun and the “Poor Air Quality: Limit Outside Activities” sign by the highway, caused by the Canadian wildfires.

    Then, as the farms and forests unfurled along the road, my mind detached from what I saw and I started to think about what was coming next. 

    I imagined the boat – would it still be on land when we arrived, or would it be in the water?  Would there still be mechanics climbing on and off as we started unpacking our bags and boxes? 

    And finally, as we got closer to Alexandria Bay, I began to anticipate the pleasure of being reunited with the “friendlies” onboard, the various souvenirs that have woven their way into daily life onboard, the nautical clothing that sat in the hanging lockers and drawers while we lived on shore.

    I needed practice in just about everything

    I used to play the piano.  Now I stumble through once-familiar patterns, having lost my muscle-memory.   Similarly, since July 16, almost daily I was surprised by realizations: “I used to know how to drive a boat/lasso cleats on a dock/empty the heads/prepare the cabin for rough water.”  Luckily, the thought progression continues: “I used to know what to do… didn’t I write it down? Surely I did, so it must be in a file somewhere… Where would that file be?” Then comes a flash of self-congratulatory brilliance: “Oh, wait, I remember – I created a binder of checklists and SOP’s, and I know just where it is!”  Saved!

    Of course, the SOP’s only take me so far – I still need to practice the skills.  These first few weeks have been our shake-down cruise, when every day brings another “first.”    Both Jeff and I have forgotten things, made mistakes, and been saved by coincidence, timing and grace.  Happily, the boat is still afloat and we’re both still in one piece.  Jeff’s shoulder is, to all intents and purposes, completely healed.  So the shake-down cruise has been a success.

    It must be admitted that not everything was perfect when we got to the boat, and for the first week, the mechanics continued to come to the boat every day to finish, redo, and even (finally) start some of the many tasks on Jeff’s list from last October. 

    Just like in construction projects, there was a punch list, some small (and some rather large) things left undone.   On the first day’s cruise from A-Bay to Clayton, NY, further upstream on the St Lawrence, some new things went wrong, providing more opportunities for full employment for the mechanics.  Even after we bade them a final farewell, new opportunities for fixing things have arisen – it’s still a boat, after all.  But nothing has been life-threatening, and so far everything’s been fixable (and got fixed) – an excellent beginning.

    After two weeks of acclimating to life onboard our beloved floating home, now I can start to focus more on the delightful details of this voyage.    Stay tuned!

    Love Judy

  • 2026-7-25: Resuming the Conversation: 2026 Great Lakes Cruise I

    Dear Honorary Loopers, original and new,

    I’m so happy to welcome you all to another season of Looping on the Affection!  Yes, we are back onboard – still unpacking, settling in, and fixing things, but ready to share what life is like on our precious floating home.

    As most of you know, Affection was pulled out of the water at Keewaydin State Park in Alexandria Bay, NY on October 1, 2025, and trailered to heated storage in Thousand Islands YachtSpa.

    There she rested until she was “splashed” on July 15, 2026, while Jeff and I were in the air between Fort Lauderdale and Syracuse, NY, the closest airport to Alex Bay. 

    During the fall and winter, Affection sat quiet and empty.  In early spring, the YachtSpa mechanics began the huge task of replacing both fuel tanks with new ones, as well as a myriad of other projects on Jeff’s long list. That’s a story in itself…

    During those nine and a half months without our boat, Jeff and I resumed our life in South Florida. We made the most of the months on land by trying to recognize and appreciate both small and large joys. 

    Some of our joys revolved around life at home. We gloried in unlimited running water, a huge capacity washing machine, and the spaciousness of our house. 

    We enjoyed daily walks through our neighborhood, noting house renovations and greeting dog-walking neighbors.  We were even home for mango season this year, which yielded almost daily joys in the form of fallen mangoes from the various trees overhanging the road. Mmmm…

    Some joys emerged from connecting with friends: we shared more than twenty meals and hosted Thanksgiving (I loved using my Deruta Italian serving dishes – there are no ceramics on the boat! ). We also made time to attend concerts, ballets, Renaissance festivals, Halloween in Wilton Manors, and contradance sessions.

    We expected to be land-based til about May 3 (right after our traditional May Day celebration at the UU Fellowship – I couldn’t miss that!), since the boating season up north doesn’t get going until early to mid-May.  That didn’t mean we stayed at home the whole time; after all, the dock behind our house was empty – what was the point in staying home when every glance outside reminded us of what was missing? 

    So we also traveled:

    -by land, including taking a road trip to tour the Frank Lloyd Wright buildings at Florida Southern College in Lakeland, Florida.  

    -by sea, including a weekend onboard Alebrije, the sailing catamaran belonging to our friends Hector and Lucy, a Celebrity cruise to the Bahamas with our friends from Jeff’s dealer group, and a Baltic Sea cruise on NCL.

    -by air, including Christmas in New York, a girls’ trip for me in Portugal, and three ski trips. 

    With an early May planned departure, why did it take til mid-July to get back on the boat?  Glad you asked…

    Our three ski trips took us to Quebec, Colorado, and the Italian Dolomites, yielding precious family time with our son William, Jeff’s brother and sister-in-law, and Jeff’s sister, his niece and her children.  Two friends joined us for the Italian trip, adding another dimension of fun.  Happily, there were no significant ski injuries – but Jeff did tear his right bicep while wrestling with a heavy suitcase.  The resulting “Popeye deformity” didn’t impede his skiing, merely making him look like he was perpetually making a muscle – but it did change our departure plan.  

    By the time he had surgery to reattach the bicep (and while the surgeon was at it, he reattached one of Jeff’s rotator cuffs), patiently waited for the incisions to heal, and did the required weeks of physical therapy, 14 weeks had elapsed. The good news?  Jeff’s shoulder is healed and strengthened, and except for a few temporary restrictions on arm movements, he’s better than ever.   Last Monday, July 13, we got the “all clear” from Jeff’s surgeon in the morning. We shipped 3 boxes to NY in the afternoon, and Wednesday we flew up to Syracuse, rented a car, and drove to Alexandria Bay.  

    In my next email, I’ll describe the process of starting this year’s boating season, and our transition back to life onboard.  I just wanted to reach out to let you all know that after long months apart, we’re finally reunited with Affection… and I’m finally reunited with all of you. 

    It’s worth noting that both reunions are significant. It’s easy to understand the significance of being back on the boat.  For me, there’s also meaning attached to resuming the ongoing conversation I got used to having every week or ten days with all of my Honorary Loopers.  I missed you while the conversation was on hold!  So many times, I thought about reaching out… but it seemed inappropriate.  We were not onboard the boat; we were not in control of the various repairs, replacements and upgrades being done; even the departure date was unknown.  What was there to tell?

    During this first week, I’ve been rediscovering the joy of recording not only what we do but how it feels and what we learn doing it.  Thank you all for showing up again and giving me a reason to follow Mary Oliver’s wise advice: “pay attention, be astonished, and tell about it.”  

    Affection-ately,

    Judy

    PS For those who don’t have Nebo bookmarked on their computers (and I’m impressed at how many of you do!), here’s the link to the tracking software so you can tell see where we are any time you are curious: is it a go or no go day? 😊

    https://trackme.nebo.global/?link=B37UC0EUWKQDCEUL491VVML0L

    PPS I’m only attaching a few photos to this email; my next email will have more visual enrichment.  With any luck, it’ll also inaugurate a new format of short emails with links to my online blog posts. That will keep your hard drives clear and allow me to post photos inline so you can tell what I’m talking about. Bear with me as I navigate this new-to-me technology while simultaneously navigating the St Lawrence River and Lake Ontario.