Clayton, Wilburt, Picnic Point and Loons

So there I was...heading into French Bay in the town of Clayton, NY after a peaceful two hour trip.  Another boat-friendly harbor that goes above and beyond in making things convenient for travelers like myself.  Having the largest freshwater antique boat museum in the world piqued my interest and it did not disappoint as I spent hours drooling over the craftsmanship of the old wooden vessels of all kinds and of course the amazing collection of antique outboard motors.  My buddy John and I have always concluded that you can never have too many outboard engines.  Walking along the waterfront was magical where a bluegrass band played as boats from the islands and Canada came and went at the town docks.  Also near the town docks was Thousand Islands Inn which lays claim to being home of the original Thousand Islands dressing.  A nearby store front for Coyote Moon Vineyards had wine tastings.  A cheerful young lady said that I could try 3 of their wines for free or 16 of their wines for 3 dollars.  Lunch, for 3 dollars.  As I enjoyed the vineyards best efforts my host filled me in on the town and the Thousand Islands area.  The next day I go in search of Wilburt.  I have heard of this man and his ability to find boat parts that no one else can.  I have a Johnson 3HP outboard engine that I love using on the dingy.  Problem is, the gas cap has been leaking on it's built-in tank and being the engine is 60 years old, built in 1953, there are none to be found.  When I explain my dilemma to Wilburt, who eclipses my engines age by at least 25 years, he shifts his captains hat to one side and gets a twinkle in his eye.  We jump in his old Volvo and make a short drive to this huge warehouse filled with every old boat engine part you could imagine.  We climb several staircases and go through a maze of turns and doors.  In the back corner of a back room he rummages through a box and pulls out two of the exact gas cap I need, never used in it's original box.  I am amazed.  As nice as Clayton is, I'm ready for a quiet place where people aren't part of the ambience so a few days later I pull anchor and head over to a location on Grindstone Island.  This is one of 1800 islands in what is called Thousand Islands.  I anchor in a peaceful cove along Picnic Point State Park.   Some twenty years ago I heard a recording of the eerie and mesmerizing  cry of the loon, a beautiful aquatic bird, and thought to myself that someday I have to hear this sound firsthand in the wild.  As I settled into my new anchorage,  toward evening that sound came drifting over the water in the most surreal manner.  As I spotted the loon it privileged me with several more cries that brought a tear to my eye.  It was so worth the wait.