The map showed that there was a launch ramp near the locks in Lockport. We drove around, boat in tow, sweat in our eyes, and finally found a very steep, extremely short ramp about a quarter-mile above the locks. If we had been driving a tow truck instead of an aging Nissan pickup, we could have launched there, but I wasn't about to try it, so we motored on to Middleport and launched there.

    A few minutes into the trip, we noticed that water was seeping into the cabin; I realized that it was because of some slipshod work on the cleats for the bunks. I didn't bed the screws or putty them in. That goes at the top of the list of things to do -- which is lengthy.

    I was surprised at the strength of the trolling motor (47-pound thrust) and at the need for constant small course corrections.

    There were a lot of people on the banks, and I was beginning to wonder if this boat would lag behind the Weekend Skiff in the category of spontaneous praise. After a while, we began to hear some good stuff. A couple who were canalside on their back lawn shouted that our boat was the best they had seen all summer, that it was a one-of-a-kind boats, and that they would be telling all their friends about it. I felt a lot better after that.

    On toward the lift bridge in Middleport proper, a lad of about 12 told his parents that he figured that our boat would fit in their swimming pool; the parents were more appreciative. The father said that the boat was very quiet, and I imagine he knows from long and bitter experience that few boats on the canal are.

    Going against the bit of a breeze and the little bit of current, on the first leg of the trip, I used Setting 3 on the trolling motor (five forward speeds and two reverse). On the return leg, I maintained the same pace with Settings 1 and 2. On the highest setting, No. 5, the bow of the boat lifts noticeably. When I hooked up the battery charger upon arriving home, it seemed that we had used only 20 percent of the capacity. We could have stayed out another two hours, for a total for four to five hours, if we had wanted. One comical moment occurred when a woman out for a power walk on the tow path caught up with us and slowly pulled on ahead. I figure, based on this experience, that our average speed was 2 miles per hour. The Reverend enjoyed the pace, and even read 60 pages of the novel she had brought along. A good time was had by all, for sure.

    The boat trails like a dream, and better even than the skiff, probably because of the extra weight. It slid off the trailer and winched back on with a minimum of problems, and I didn't back and fill more than a thousand times, either, in launching and hauling out.