January, 2025

 

Success!!

Some years ago, Janice started staying overnight at the Sarah's Guest House in Syracuse, NY, when she was receiving chemo and radiation treatments when we were at the island. Sarah's Guest House is a kind of Ronald McDonalds house for grown ups. Folks who have critically injured or sick family members in the local hospital have an affordable place to stay close by - some for weeks- where Catholic volunteers bring food in every day so they need not leave the facility other that caring for their family in the local hospital. At some point we found out that they had a yearly fundraiser to raise money to support the operation. They did the customary golf tournaments and yearly dinners, auctioning the typical gift baskets, spas or overnights at the local hotels. Over the past several years, we have offered to auction off a week at our villa. To say it was a resounding success and a money raiser would be an understatement.  

This year, I was at our church here in California, when a lady spoke about her group (Captive Hearts) who house and counsel battered and sexually abused women. I approached her and asked if auctioning off the villa for a week at their fundraiser could be of any help. Her eyes got as big as saucers, and we were in. The winning bid was for $9,500. Now we don't kid ourselves for a moment. We don't think people bid that amount because they think our place is worth it, they bid that to support the charity, and oh! by the way, they get to stay at the villa too.

When I heard that the bids were that high, (we did not attend as we were at the island at the time) I could only see dollar signs and was not about to let the second bid of $500 less be lost. So, I got hold of organizers and told them to refund the top bidders $500 to match the second bid of $9,000 and tell them they too had won. Everyone was thrilled and two groups were on their way to France. The foundation changed the dates of their next fundraiser several months later and got a bid of $12,000. A friend who was an organizer, followed my philosophy of "better to ask for forgiveness than permission" immediately offered and got a second week for the second bid of $12,000 without asking.

Not a fortune for sure, but a full third of their yearly fundraising take. Meanwhile, one of the attendee's ran their own foundation (Knowing You Matter), that deals with suicide prevention and contacted us about, yes, offering the villa for their annual dinner and fundraiser. We hesitated but found out they were on the up and up so we agreed. The villa raised $18,500 for them for a total of $65,000 for all 3 groups. In each case, the week in France was the single most valuable item being auctioned.

Like a snowball, yet another group contacted us to do the same, but we said no. Each one of these seven weeklong stays have a significant cost to us, as there are utilities and house cleaning staff to pay for out of pocket. Besides, if we have too many weeks donated, folks have less choice as to when they want to come. 

All 3 foundations can hardly wait for next year's fundraiser.

Christmas 2024

After a quick flight to Portland Oregon, picked up by daughter Cassie, I spent the week with the grandkids. Lots of tall tales and age-appropriate kid activities filled the week.

The rug rats

A salvage ship we visited. This one was 

sent out to the Exon Valdez recovery.

One of 4 anchors

At the Maritime Museum. Boats and naval stuff is real big in Astoria. Guess what river?

 Daughter Cassie, terrific son in law Art 

and two of their 5 fur children.

Here we go again…

 

No, not another deployment but something closer to home. Years ago, when we were building our home, I spent 10 weeks – alone – roofing the house with wood shingles. 35 years later it never had a leak, but the woodpeckers were getting to it. So, we had the roof re-done. 3 years later, it was discovered that there were issues with the job that had been done so the insurance company authorized it to be reroofed. Now, 5 years later, we have had a minor issue and once again the factory inspector has determined that there are many other minor issues with how the work was done. So, for the 3^rd time in 8 years, our roof is being redone. 35 years with a homeowner job, 3 times in 8 years with professionals.

A dome may be my idea of a cool architectural look but is no picnic to build  and certainly not to roof. This re roof is costing the insurance company over $60,000. ($86,000 in Canadian funds) The original roof had a valentine message on it, rediscovered by the dismayed roofers each time they stripped it. Janice saw it from a mile away when she was coming home from work that day.

The product we are using is a pricey 3-layer architectural shingle. It has a warrantee of 50 years and with that thickness, it creates a little shade at some times of the day, mimicking a wood shake look. Since it has a 50-year lifespan, it will need to be redone in 2075, and that will take me to the year 3025. After that, the kid's inheritance will have to pay for it.

 So why do I write the Epistle?

   As a perspicacious and perspicacious writer, in my pursuit of establishing intellectual credibility and showcasing my sesquipedalian prowess, particularly within the worlds of politics and societal evolution, I frequently resort to the utilization, implementation and deployment of a grandiloquent lexicon.

   Had enough? No? Ok then...

   This predilection, however, culminates in the production of protracted, pedantic, unctuous and laborious prose, thereby jeopardizing not only comprehension but also ultimately readership itself. The aptitude for lucidity and concision in written communication constitutes a pivotal differentiator for those aspiring to enhance their efficacy in conveying ideas, augmenting ones productivity, and fostering harmonious interpersonal dynamics.

   (If you made it this far, your masochism is matched only by my sadism)

 Oftentimes, the employment of succinct and unpretentious vocabulary, coupled with similar streamlined sentence structures, yields profundity and elevates the likelihood of obtaining the paramount....blah, blah. blah 

B     [Better stories next month]

Only a woman who’s delivered a baby without an epidural can truly understand the pain a man goes through when he has the flu.

😞

December, 2024

Team Rubicon

Operation Paradise Dawn

Ft. Meyers Florida

Relax. This is not another long yarn about another deployment. I was in Florida this past month for my 3rd deployment in 4 weeks, but I am done for a while. I am back home blasting away on my honey do list and entertaining like crazy. Not to say the week in Florida was a cake walk, as none of them are. They are hard work. Look at this poor fellow. Like all of us who flew across the country to help folks we have never met, he is now wearing a Tyvek waterproof suit, crawling through an 18- inch (45 CM) space under a mobile home like we have all done after a flood, to pull out wet insulation wrapped around heating and air conditioning ducktwork for a homeowner. For free.

 

   

   Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we are knee deep in all the maintenance the old homestead needs after an 8-month absence. Like you, an endless list of relatively minor items that need repair, tweaking, adjusting, painting, replacing, improving or whatever. You know what I mean. The important thing is catching up with friends and entertaining and enjoying the things and lifestyle we can only experience here. The variety between the 3 locations is what we so enjoy.

Hanging out with friends Miguel and Gunilla

h

Sunset cocktails at the beach

    We had the good fortune of having cousins Michael and Em visit us from Long Beach, where we had the chance to eat, drink and be merry in a rehearsal for the upcoming holidays and planning their trip to France to visit us in March.

 

My wife said she wanted me to get her a diamond bracelet for Christmas. 

I am a little confused as to why she spelled crockpot that way.

November, 2024

 

I don't know why, but some people say my friends are weird.

Operation Phone Home

Roswell New Mexico

Don't ask me, I have no idea how they come up with these goofy operation names. I assume that this name was an ET tie in with the little green men who came in on a flying saucer to Roswell.

I barely got home from Georgia last month, long enough to do my laundry when I was back on the plane to go to Roswell New Mexico, because 400 homes were under 4 feet (1.5M) of water from recent flooding. Some folks are a little more disaster junkies and try to go on every operation they can. I love helping but I have other things going on in my life that need attending to. Janice is a super trooper, but I don't want to push my luck and get back to find that she has moved out, or that "Raoul" has moved in.

People often ask just how many greyshirts there are. Greyshirts are the grey T shirts with the Team Rubicon logo people earn after they get it dirty on an operation when they deploy. At last count, there are 161,000 Team Rubicon members nationally. That is, they have gone online and clicked the button that says "I want to join". Of those, approximately 10% are deployable. That is, they have been vetted, passed the background check and completed the most basic training to be of service on a deployment. So now we are down to about 16,000 people. Of those, roughly 10% (1,600) actually deploy. Those are the people who answer the call and show up. Of those, a small percentage are trained sawyers who are often the first called as nobody (police, fire, ambulances or the power company) is going anywhere or able to do anything until roads are cleared and access to driveways or to a home is possible.

This tree fell down. The trunk went the length of the homeowner's yard, and the canopy covered his neighbors entire yard as seen here.

There are basically 4 types of greyshirt operations. Muck outs are when a home has been flooded and a strike team guts it. They remove all furniture and appliances, then tear out all the drywall and insulation to the studs so the house can be re-built.

Tarping is when a roof is covered with a temporary tarp to prevent the rain from introducing more water into the house.

Sawyers always work in teams of two and cut trees that prevent access. While one cuts, the other is a spotter who keeps an eye out to keep everyone out of what we call the 'blood bubble'; the distance a chain saw can reach. There are usually an endless number of them. Trees, that is.

Finally, we have what in my opinion are the real heroes; the swampers. Swampers always accompany the sawyers. They are the folks who drag heavy branches and large trunk pieces in sleds to the homeowner's curb for the city to  pick up. Without them, everything I cut I trip over as I attempt to continue with my work. Consider for a moment that many of them take a week's vacation from their job to fly across the country to come help by dragging heavy wood endlessly back and forth over someones driveway and yard to the street. Those are the real heroes in my book.  

A swamper at work

Other than this little dent, the house is fine.

So this time I got deployed to Roswell New Mexico. Local floods made a mess of things, so muck outs were primarily the order of the day. 1400 structures and 400 homes were under 4 feet of water. You see, its not just Florida that has a problem.

Surprisingly, much of the city looked unaffected. But the homes by the banks of the river flooded. The force of the water was incredible. As seen in the following pics, they went over the banks and the bridge and folded steel posts.

Now look at the car below. It is missing its front bumper. It is in the tree in the background.

I found a lot of trauma in the people affected. I spoke to an older lady who told me that she spent 13 hours- from 7 PM until 8 AM- in the dark on her dining room table, until she was rescued, while she feared the rising water in her home would drown her. Reportedly, 145 people  spent the night on the roof of the town civic center to escape the flood until they were rescued in the morning.

I know I have written about this, but it is still kind of hard to wrap your head around the damage a flood causes. Draw a line on the wall at your head height. Everything above it you can keep. Your ceiling lights maybe. We take everything below to the curb. Your beds, furniture, appliances, clothes, TV, kitchen and bathroom cabinets, computer, family pictures, your car, contents of your garage, absolutely everything. Then, we proceed to tear out your carpets, flooring, walls and insulation where mold is beginning to grow.

This is how a muck out starts. Everything 

soaking wet, piled chest high.

Possessions cleaned out, now we remove a few inches of mud and carpet. Walls are next.

This is how it ends.

Click to see the video

You might not believe in flying saucers, but I saw a McDonalds with one.

Bear in mind that we were out in the middle of nowhere.

Finally, I flew home. But ten minutes after I arrived, I got a message not to unpack, as I was being re-deployed to Florida, where I am currently at...

Operation

Paradise Dawn

Ft. Meyers Florida

             

Other news of little use

I counted 46 Tesla recharging stations in a remote parking area of our local shopping center. Now if we can only find a single Tesla...

Secret stuff?

This is the entrance to a reportedly multi story underground 'bunker' where transpacific communication cables originate and terminate between China and other Asian countries and the US. It is located near our home here. Ironically, the original transatlantic cables between the US and Europe went to a terminal building not far from where our home was in Brittany, France also. 

A remnant of the original transatlantic cable 

(long since abandoned) as it met the shore.

October, 2024

                       

OPERATION TROJAN MOON

AUGUSTA GEORGIA

Just another day at the office

I know, I know, it's all old news to you. We have all moved on to more current events. All summer long, the forecast kept predicting that this would be a terrible hurricane season. While I was not hoping for it, I was always ready with a packed GO bag. I committed to being available to respond to disasters, as I was trained by TR (Team Rubicon) and they have not been shy in asking for help. It seems that Hurricane Helene had had its way with the locals and there were trees to cut and a huge mess to clean up. TR had started setting up operations in 7 different areas when the first call out was right at the time we were flying back from the island to our home in California. We barely got home when I got the call to fly back to the east coast. I was being deployed, just as I was getting comfy in my retirement rocking chair. So, I headed to the airport to meet my strike team. The poop had hit the fan in 5 states, and I was sent to Augusta Georgia, where I currently am. It was time to get to work.

I could post tons of pictures, but you have seen enough on TV

Right then, Milton reared its ugly head. TR is in the business or providing disaster response volunteers, not adding to disaster response victims. Many operations were called off temporarily, and some were shut down. While I am convinced that I am Seal Team 6 material, I have yet been able to convince anyone of  it. 😊 As the response to Hurricane Helene and Milton unfolded on our TV screens, we saw volunteer groups showing up to provide food, water, generators and Starlink satellite systems to help. That was great, but we cut trees, tarp roofs and gut flooded homes so they can rebuild.

                        

It seems unbelievable that hurricane Helene hit right between Perry (my deployment number 7 last year) and Mexico Beach (my deployment number 4). This was in the Florida panhandle (Northwest corner of the state), in what is often referred to in the catcher's mitt. Personally, I think that Florida needs to move west, closer to California for better weather. After this deployment, I suspect that I will be sent back to  Florida in a few weeks to help with the damage Milton left behind. If this keeps up, I will spend more time in Florida than I do in California.

This being my 8th deployment, I wish I could say I have seen worse. I mean how bad does total destruction have to be for it to be worse? Helene was a category 4 hurricane with a storm surge of 9 feet (3M) and 30" of rain (76CM) in some areas and winds up to 140 MPH (225KPH). Think about it; that is twice the speed you drive on the highway. Trees become missiles that can embed themselves through a wall, and trash cans become bowling balls that break windshields. You can hide from the wind, but you have to run from the water. 

A 9-foot storm surge puts the whole ground floor of your house under water. Your living room, bedrooms and kitchen are now an aquarium. Your car is a submarine and your job is gone. Really gone. Within a few hours, you have lost power, water (think toilet), phone, internet, refrigeration, TV and lights. There are downed trees blocking your driveway and the roads and bridges are washed out. The grocery store, pharmacy, gas station, police station... all gone. Go ahead and call for help. Oh wait, I forgot! You don't have a phone. Besides, they have all lost their homes too. At this point, not wanting to be over dramatic, you realize that there is little that separates you from the life of a caveman. Few of us can really relate to that. 

Over 230 deaths in 5 states were reportedly attributed to Helene with flood waters, we are told, higher than they have been in 200 years. I am not quite sure how they could know that. They expect to find additional bodies until Xmas. Team Rubicon and other disaster response organizations do not get called out unless local authorities are overwhelmed, and this was clearly the case here. I was merely a little wheel in the giant cog of disaster responders, but a big deal to the people we are helping. My accommodations are a broken Red Cross cot in a brightly lit hallway (24-7) with 30 other people overlooking the basketball court in the community center.

Milton was a different story. Before I even flew to Agusta, it had grown from a category 1 hurricane to a 5 in a mere 18 hours. As it approached the Florida coast the sustained winds were 180 MPH (290KPH) with gusts over 200 MPH (320 KPH), prompting the weather bureau to suggest that a new category 6 designation might be called for. As incredible as the storm surge was from Helene, Milton’s storm surge was predicted to be up to 15 feet (5M). Have a look at the graphic above again. 15 feet is above the roof line.

I wanted to bring my partner (grandson) to get him out in the field, but his mom said "NO!". He had a play date.

Photo credit: Doug Rawlson photo studios

Our end of day moonlight cruise

Operation Dragoon

On August 15, 1944, the allies led by the Americans, landed on the beaches of the French Riviera in what was code named Operation Dragoon. It  was intended to happen simultaneously with Operation Overlord (The main "D" day Normandy beach landing in June) but there was a lack of equipment, so they put it off till August. One of those beaches was in our little town of Les Issambres. The invasion and landing resulted in the liberation of southern France in just 4 weeks. "So what?", you think. Without knowing this, the rest of this story would be pointless.

There are a number of monuments in the general area dedicated to the landing, including one in a park in our little town. Last May, before our return to America, I noticed that the monument had two flag poles. One flew the French flag, the other was empty. Hmmm…. shouldn’t it have an American flag, I wondered? I began to ask around, but each time they just blew me off. So, I decided to make it a project.

I started writing to a dozen people with different titles and positions to redress this shortcoming, each time being polite and mostly diplomatic but was turned down. It was hard, but I avoided pointing out that had it not been for the Americans, they would all be speaking German today. I even contacted the mayor’s office but I got no response. To say that I was persistent and relentless would be an understatement, as every two weeks I would shoot off yet another email, asking why it could not be done. I was like a dog with a bone. Even the Patriotic Association weighed in, insisting the American flag could only be flown one day a year on the date of the commemoration.

Not good enough.

For 5 months, I escalated my request, demanding to know why young American men who came halfway around the world and died to liberate people they had never met and owed nothing to, were not worthy of having their country’s flag flown next to a monument dedicated to them? In truth, I was just getting warmed up.

I think they sensed that I was getting ready to approach the local newspapers, TV stations and who knows, perhaps the American embassy. I didn't expect that any of them would make it happen but with enough pressure, bad publicity and general brou-ha-ha, they just might relent. In the end, they saved me the trouble, caved and gave in. When we say our fallen will not be forgotten, we MEAN that they will not be forgotten. I think some big dog administrator decided it would just be easier to fly the bloody flag, then to have the relentless, annoying, damn American drive them crazy any longer.

After dozens of emails and phone calls, the following (translated) was what pushed it over the top.

" Dear Mr. Mayor,   

I received your response regarding my request that an American flag be raised year-round at our town monument dedicated to the American landing of Operation Dragoon which liberated Provence.

Your answer states that a flag can only be flown on the day of remembrance, once a year, on August 15th. However, on an adjoining flagpole, a few meters away, the French flag flies year-round which is entirely appropriate. It must be recognized that it was not the French who liberated Les Issambres and Provence, but the Allies led by the Americans.

The last 80 years of freedom have been marked by young American men who traveled halfway around the world and died to save people they had never met and to whom they owed nothing. I can't imagine that in return, Les Issambres would dedicate a monument in their memory and refuse to fly their country's flag next to it.

One way or another, Le Dramont (a local town) manages to keep the French, British and American flags flying all year round. The same goes for the restaurant "Le 44", as well as other establishments. Why would our town persist in not showing those young men the respect they deserve for the sacrifice they made ?

I would like to ask the Patriotic associations to review their unfavorable decision. Failing a reversal, could someone explain to me why the sacrifice of so many does not deserve a little recognition throughout the year?"

Respectfully,

Michael Laprade

Now, that's what I'm talking about!

Home sweet home

So, we have been back at the home base for a week. It is really nice to be at our local hideout for 5 PM cocktails at a local park with a firepit watching the sunset at the beach. We could sit at our firepit at home (and we do), but you know what they say, variety is the spice of life.

We are settling in with the usual maintenance needed after an 8 month absence. Janice is up to her eyeballs in landscaping and my first big project is to re-roof my workshop. A mere 42 years and already it needs to be re-done! A real indication of how great of a job I did the first time. It's time to catch up with friends and start prepping more projects like replacing a railroad tie retaining wall with a block wall, among others. Time marches on even if we are not here full time.

Two guys are sitting at the bar

One says to the other

"Look at the old fogies over there”

The other says

“That’s a mirror, stupid”

September, 2024

Life at  

Lat/ Long 44 20' 48"N - 75 58' 40"W

(Our home in the Thousand Islands) 

For some time, I have written tid bits about the area where we have spent our summers for over 24 years. It has occurred to me that I have failed to give much of an overall view or description of the area though.

You may or may not have heard of it before, but the Thousand Islands is a serious tourist attraction in the country. Let's start with where it is. If you are geographically challenged, picture the great lakes on the east coast. Together, they are larger than the state of Texas and they are pretty much split between the US and Canada. 

The top right lake is lake Ontario. The city of Kingston would pretty much be the start of the islands on the map.

Obviously, Lake Michigan is not in Canada. At the Eastern end of Lake Ontario is the St Lawrence river that leads to the Atlantic ocean. Where the river starts at the mouth of Lake Ontario, are the 1864 islands of the Thousand Islands. Over the years many rich folks (clearly not us) have built mansions in the area. Wildlife is abundant, with ducks, geese, osprey, blue heron, loons, beaver and bald eagles to name but a few. 

The Canadian span of the bridge

The area was named by the French in 1615, but after the war of 1812 many islands were named by the British. Today we have the Admiralty group named after some admirals, the Lake fleet after some ships and gunboats, the Navy group after famous captains, and the 30 Brock islands near the town of Brockville. Nearby is the town of Iroquois with one of my favorite airfields, requiring flying low over lakers (big ships) in the river and come in on final mere feet over terrified golfers before landing on a runway barely as wide as a sidewalk. But I digress.

Some of the islands and bays have historical names and unique stories like Dumfounder, Deathdealer (not to be confused with Deadman's bay), Bloodletter, Psych, Scorpion, Molly's Gut, Smugglers Cove, Fidler's Elbow and Horse Thief Bay. A number of unnamed islands only have numbers. At one time ours was 101G. Real sexy, huh? I spent two years having it officially and legally changed to Honey Bee Island. You can Google it, it's on all new maps and charts.

The border meanders between the islands with half on each side. Ironically the largest island (Wolf) does not have a bridge to it. Only two do, one Canadian (Hill) and one US (Wellesley), linking the US and Canadian mainland's. Honey Bee is in the international rift between both. We are in Canada, but when we dive off our dock, we come up in US waters 20 feet away. This a grennie's, environmentalist and tree hugger paradise, with noise, light, disturbance and trash restrictions of all manner. There are approximately 20 US and a similar number of Canadian provincial parks on islands accessible only by boat.

Serious rafters

Many locations in nearby bays encourage 'rafting' with other boats to share the space or to form little communities for the day. There is no dock, so everyone anchors and ties off to each other and walk from boat to boat to visit. It's a big river with depths ranging from 2 to 280 feet, so unless you know the area, you have to be on the lookout for shoals. Your depth finder might indicate 20 feet on the stern (the back of the boat) while the bow (the pointy end at the front of the boat) might be on the rocks. Then, that pinging sound you hear, is the sound of $100. bills being torn up to replace your propeller and outboard lower end.

Most islands are lived on seasonally. Some are big with hundreds of homes, some are the size of your living room with everything in between.

I could write all day about this magical place but you can judge it for yourself by sampling a spectacular short video by clicking HERE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YziwZF8ViUU  

The tale of two chairs

Have you ever wondered if all of the stories I write about are true? Well if you do, this one will surely make you wonder. We have all heard stories about cats or dogs that "disappear" only to show up on the owner's doorstep years later. Well, we don't have either so already you can see that this story might have legs.

Some 15 years ago we were having cocktails with our neigbor's a mere 300 feet (100M) from our dock when a storm quickly blew in. Thinking it would be safer to ride it out, we opted to stay and not boat home immediately.  A mini squall of sorts blew in the area and was gone in a matter of minutes. We returned home only to find two of our 4 heavy Teak dock chairs were gone. We had often wondered why people in the area chained their dock chairs down, thinking that perhaps there had been theft in the area. We soon realized that anything not nailed down on the dock is as good as gone with the occasional winds.

We immediately jumped in the boat knowing that they would float and would be nearby for sure, where we could retrieve them. We boated an ever-larger area for over an hour but never found them. Finally, we gave up and chalked it up to experience.

Fast forward 15 years and we meet a couple at a little neighborhood get together (we call them mandatory AA meetings) and invited them over for, ...well you know. They also live on the river about a mile from our island.  As they were leaving, they remarked that they had two Teak chairs exactly like ours.

Really? Hmmm... And where did they get those chairs, inquiring minds asked? Well, they found them floating in the river 15 years ago and retrieved them. I couldn't decide if I should charge them for 15 years rent or if I owed them for 15 years of maintenance. In the end, we decided it was a wash.  In any case, they are now safely repatriated back to where they belong.

August, 2024

UPDATE

Last month I included a picture of the Fair Jeanne below. I was asked for another shot, so here it is by Singer Castle nearby.  (Yes, of Singer sewing machine fame). I was also asked how high the crow's nest I climbed was. Being a pilot, you would think that height would not scare me, but with the ship swaying to and fro, the pucker factor sure set in. Let's just say it is a lot higher than it looks.

I was also asked about our beaches. Below are two of our favorites. This beach is called Potters Beach and is in US waters.

This beach below is on Thwartway island in the Lake fleet group of islands in Canadian waters. Although within spitting distance of each other, you are required to check in with customs if you are crossing the border. Even on the water.

Officially...

Photos courtesy Ian Coristine

The whole Fam Damly

From the left: Em and my cousin Michael, my uncle Pierre and favorite aunts Monique and Kimberly, and herself. They, on a visit from Arizona and Los Angeles.

RIP CF19473

For the second time in two years, we had a Jet Ski that died. I mean deader than a door stop. A never can be revived dead soldier. So, like I did the last time, I will sell it for parts. To be fair, they were both 20+ years old, so they had served their time.

 

This left us without a PWC (personal watercraft) so off we went and drove 600 miles round trip to bring back our new (to us) See Doo Spark. It is lighter, smaller, cheaper and without many of the bells and whistles of $20,000+ machines. Still with a top speed of 50 MPH (80KPH), it is faster on the water than I am willing to fall off, so it will do just fine.

Worlds tallest Cathedral Ceiling

For the past 127 years, Half Moon Bay has been a place of worship that has the highest cathedral roof in the world. Glaciers carved a tranquil bay where boats are church pews, and the cathedral walls from enduring granite. As a bay on Bostwick Island in the Thousand Islands, there is of course no roof at all, open to the heavens, as it were.

Boaters beginning to arrive

The story goes that one long ago summer day, a boating party was caught out on the river in one of those fierce and sudden squalls that can sweep through the islands. Apparently thankful and inspired by the fortunate refuge in the bay, the idea for an open-air church was born. On Sunday afternoons during the summer, people who come to the bay, remain in their boats to sing hymns, listen to guest speakers and participate in a non-denominational Christian service.

The bay's name comes from its crescent shape, a small glacier-carved fiord rounded and polished by those abrasive rivers of ice over millions of years. The steep slopes of the north shore are forested with shady, overhanging trees. It is always tranquil in the bay, regardless of the tempests that rage outside, be they those of Nature or world events.

Before the appointed afternoon hour arrives, boaters idle and paddle into the bay gathering in front of the rough granite block pulpit, gently interlocking, puzzle like. A pianist, and sometimes a choir, share the space on the granite block. In days past, the preachers voice rang out across the rafted congregation, but today microphones are used. Hymnbooks and a donation basket are passed from boat to boat. It's a casual affair, the various denominations taking turns throughout the July and August services.

Full disclosure: I did not write this story but I did edit it. Does that count?