French Quebec

So there I was...pulling Eventide out of the harbor in Montreal after dropping Kim off at the train station and stopping by our favorite breakfast place for a cafe au lait and croissant.  The current outside the breakwall was moving the St. Lawrence Seaway along at almost 6 knots, fortunately in the direction I was going, toward Quebec City.  I was playing hopscotch with freighters all afternoon that were over 700 feet long as they passed me going the same direction or squeezed me to the side of the channel coming toward me.  My boat never felt so small.  Half way to Quebec City I anchored for the night behind a beautiful island and early the next morning turned south, for the first time in over a year, as I left the St. Lawrence River to enter the Richelieu River.  There would be over 75 miles of this river to navigate and 10 locks to go through before I drop my anchor in American mud again at the northern end of Lake Champlain.  As I write this, I am anchored in Chambly Basin in the town of, you guessed it, Chambly, Quebec.  When you get away from the bigger cities in these regions nobody speaks English.  So I've been walking around more confused than usual.  My French is for introduction only and on occasion to order pasteries.  The people here are kind and patient with me so we finally succeed in exchanging information.  In the U.S. I can be perplexed in a grocery store but the one I went to here left me dazed and confused.  Everything is written in French.  It makes for a great adventure when you're a bit lost and through it all I'm having a blast.  Till next time, au revoir.