In Buffalo we begin the narrow and safe, river-canal stage of our journey. We motor into the Black Rock Lock. Just to catch a slight idea of the linguistic difficulties that face the lockmaster, try to repeat (three times and fast!): “Black Rock Lock” - the standard words that open his every conversation on VHF. We keep motoring towards Tonawanda, taking advantage of the Niagara River current. One has to be watchful, though, trying to find the entrance to the Erie Canal. Such an overlooking and one might have ended up falling off of the largest waterfall in North America. (OK, it's a joke. The waters around the Falls are too shallow to make it accessible by sailboat). Whereas Niagara Falls stays high on the agenda, Tonawanda becomes the first place to make a stop. It's going to be our base camp for the expedition to the Falls.

   Tonawanda marks the beginning of Erie Canal, which joins the Great Lakes with the Hudson River. It was originally constructed for transporting various goods by barges. Because of that, we have no other choice but transform our sailboat into a motorboat. We dismast her. The guaranteed space under the bridges is a mere 15 feet, whereas total height of our boat with mast is 35 feet. This operation is carried out in a place owned by Mr Wardell, who makes his simple living selling gas to boaters traversing the canal as well as dismasting and putting masts on their boats. For the unquestionable fun of operating the crane for one hour by Mr Wardell we pay $150. Less enjoyable stuff, like getting the boat ready for desmasting and fixing the mast along the deck is our job. Thank God, all the fees for crossing the locks have been suspended due to poor tourist traffic. Thus, traversing the canal is practically free. We go out for a stroll around Tonawanda. As soon as we leave Wardell's marina (if a dock built of some welded waste overgrown by rushes deserves that name), we bump into Alexander's brothel. Except for a few restaurants, pubs and one cinema, Tonawanda is not much of an attraction. We spend some time in front of an exceptionally morbid display of an antique toys store, taking horror photos of each other.

   Niagara – a word that moves the heart of every traveler. One of the world's wonders and a spectacular demonstration of nature's powers only 20 minutes away from Tonawanda. “Excuse me Sir, do you know how to get to the Falls?”, we ask some local. “Oh, yeah, well...” - he replies somewhat confused and embarrassed - “I was about to go there myself...”. Here's how one can spend a whole life a stone's throw away from Niagara Falls and never see it. To spare you the boring details, we will restrict ourselves to telling you this: the waterfall is, in fact, huge. However, Niagara Falls town embodies a painful example of a complete lack of any idea how to make the place attractive to visitors – it's dirty, off-putting and rumbling with disco music...

   While admiring the Falls, we encounter a typical example of shady business. Attracted by the advertisement of the trip to the famous Cave of the Winds, we buy the tickets. You see, the cave collapsed in the 1920's, so literally speaking, there is no cave anymore. The visit was worth it, though. It's the only way (maybe except for the boat tour) to get really close to the waterfall. Foresighted Americans fenced the Falls off with barriers. Thank God! Otherwise, thousands of people would surely throw themselves down into the white surge.

   Finally, we begin an unguided tour along the canal. Two things differ it from our homeland Mazurian Canals. Firstly, Erie Canal is much longer (338 miles). Secondly, one has to cross numerous drawbridges (there is 15 along the waterway) or locks. Locks are numbered from 2 to 35, however lock no.31 is nowhere to be found, whereas lock no. 28 has split into lock no.28a and 28b. Such inaccuracies have resulted from the turbulent times in the past, when the locks were destroyed and rebuilt in order to make space for larger and larger ships. Its closest European equivalent is presumably Gota Canal in Sweden.

   The canal unwinds through the idyllic countryside. At times its banks resemble those of a river, other times it's cut in solid rock. We pass by small towns that look exactly like copies of those from the American Dream era in the 50's. During one of these visits, a great misfortune befalls us, or rather Piotrek has the misfortune of falling down on our camera lens. This is, of course, the result of a night shooting escapade. Until we buy a new lens, what will turn out to be quite a challenge, our photojournalist's potential will be limited. The first place to try our luck becomes Rochester - headquarters of the KODAK Eastman Corporation, but we go back empty handed. But at least, not empty minded! We happen to see Ansel Adam's unique exhibition of astonishing landscape photography. Rochester itself developed thanks to Eastman's fortune, but now it needs some refreshment.

   In Spencerport we make a few days stop, that surprisingly turns out to be the most comfortable of all stops we have made on the canal. We will miss the place later. Wireless internet on the boat, electricity, luxurious bathroom with showers that meet high hotel standards, and...no charge! Moreover: gas station, huge low-priced second-hand bookstore, laundromats within a short walk and good bus connections within the area.

   Days go by while we keep motoring. Along the canal we see a path that once used to be worn by horses arduously towing barges. Today, there are only bicyclists easily overtaking our green boat. We get to Brewerton. Here we meet the first sailor of our generation. Darcy, a carpenter by profession, quit a well-paid job and he got aboard a tall ship. He left Florida and after many adventures along the American coast, he ventured up the Saint Lawrence River. Now he was on his way back to New York via the Erie Canal. It's surely worth adding, that Darcy's blue water experience was limited only to surfing. He is one of the few sailing Americans we met on our way. A great majority of yachts sail under the Canadian flag. We try to justify it with the fact that probably Americans choose California or Florida as their way out into the ocean, not the Great Lakes. Nonetheless, we cannot escape the impression that for citizens of the wealthiest country of the world, it's simply tough to break the ties of the capitalist treadmill and set sail towards the open seas. Sipping cold (hurray!) beer, we debate on charms of sailor's life when finally Darcy concludes: “Next time, I'm gonna be the captain on my own boat”. We keep our fingers crossed!

   Giving proof of the ultimate trust in our engine, we motor into open waters of Oneida Lake (we have no mast you remember...).

   Next stop is Rome with its main attraction, Fort Stanwix. In times before the Erie Canal was built, one could almost get from the Atlantic to Great Lakes by rivers. Almost, since some distance in the vicinity of Fort Stanwix had to be covered on foot. Thus, the place became an attractive strategic point for the successive colonial countries. The French were defeated and replaced by the British, who built the original Fort Stanwix only to abandon it after the war had ended – bad move soon to be regretted. During the Independence War, the fort was occupied by Americans and their successful defense against the British army soon became historic. Deserted fort turned into ruin until it was completely buried under the architecture of developing Rome. The tourist potential of the fort was not discovered until the 70's, when the local authorities opted for pulling down the whole district and uncovering whatever remained of the monument. Even today, because of this decision, many local people still bear a grudge towards the authorities. On the uncovered ruins, they build a fort and a museum, where one can become familiar with a fascinating history of the original inhabitants of this area – Confederation of Iroquois (this union inspired army representatives of the British colony in America to establishing of the United States). The historical facts concerning the Independence War are presented in an amazingly objective (for Americans) way, so one can get acquainted with the arguments of both the Loyalists and the Patriots.

   From now on we move down the stream since the canal turns into Mohawk River. On tenterhooks we look out for Indians shooting at us with poisoned arrows, but somehow we manage to get to Waterford unharmed. The town lies by the estuary where Mohawk River turns into Hudson River. We are instantly welcome by tons of pouring rain. To cap it all, Tugboats Festival has just ended! It turns out, though, that one more attraction awaits us. Next morning, local youth organizes a golf tournament...over our heads!

Bonus airplane from Piotrek:

    And Magda got comletely dread