The perception of canalling is that it is simple and safe. It's all motoring at slow speeds. Navigation is mostly a matter of spotting and steering a course between red and green buoys and daymarks and following the signs erected at intersections. The water surface remains fairly flat even in strong winds. The current is slow. Canalling seems so much like taking a lazy drive down a country road that just about everyone feels they can do it, even if they have never operated a boat in their life. And, in general, they are correct.

For these same reasons, many boaters consider canalling to be boring. Powerboaters don't like the slow speeds, sailors dislike the motoring, both tend to prefer the variety and challenge of open water. They see a canal as nothing more than a highway to a destination to be traveled as quickly as possible rather than as a destination in and of itself. Yet, canals can offer many of the things they are seeking elsewhere -- the pleasure of being on the water, beautiful scenery, wildlife sightings, both solitude and crowds, charming towns, a mix of different types of people, and an interesting history.

Competent boaters who go canalling will experience nothing they can't handle. Even those who have never gone through a lock before will quickly acquire the skill and, after four or five locks, will be taking it in stride. My only word of caution is: BEWARE THE CLUELESS CANALLER.

The most obvious warning sign that you have encountered a clueless canaller is the sight of a houseboat bearing a sign or some other indication that it is a rental boat. These houseboats are generally underpowered, their hulls provide little directional stability, their huge superstructures become sails in windy conditions, and the people on board are usually inexperienced. With this combination of factors, just about anything can happen.

But some houseboat renters know what they are doing and some boat owners don't. A positive identification of a clueless canaller requires picking up on more subtle signs. By way of example, I observed the following as I played the Erie Canal version of the tortoise and the hare with a 30 foot twin-screw powerboat (hereafter identified as "Clueless," a fictional name to protect the innocent).

There is a large sign located at the intersection of the Erie and Cayuga-Seneca canals with labeled arrows pointing canallers in the appropriate direction. Clueless, which had been following in my wake for a while, took the turn-off to the C-S canal. About 15 minutes later, as I approached Lock 25, I saw Clueless coming up fast behind me on plane. I subsequently learned its destination was Tonawanda, the western terminus of the Erie Canal. It had made a wrong turn.

Clueless passed me almost immediately after exiting Lock 25 and was soon out of sight. As I approached Lock 26, I found Clueless drifting patiently, waiting for the lock to open. The lockmaster had not seen it and Clueless had not used its horn or VHF to notify the lock of its presence. (The locks monitor Channel 13.) I radioed the lock and the gates opened immediately.

Clueless entered the lock first. There was no wind and the boat had twin screws, yet its stern was swinging back and forth like the tail of a happy dog. After several attempts, the couple on board Clueless finally managed to grab the drop lines at the very back of the chamber. I had to pass Clueless in the chamber and take a position up front. (The normal practice is for the boat entering first to go far enough forward to leave room behind for following boats.) From this point on, the couple on board Clueless smiled and waved every time they passed me.

Clueless passed me one morning just as I was casting off from the wall tie-up at Newark. I quickly threw my lines back around the cleats on the wall and fended off as my boat was hit by Clueless' wake. (Marinas and tie-ups are usually no wake zones. When concrete walls line both banks of the canal, as in Newark, wakes reflect back and forth and violently rock boats tied to the walls.)

Clueless and I had to wait at Lock 30 for an eastbound boat to downlock. Clueless nosed right up to the gates of the lock. It was windy and the eastbound boat had to do some tricky maneuvering to exit around Clueless.

Clueless decided to stop at Fairport for lunch. It approached the wall tie-up and managed to get a bow line attached. But its stern drifted out until the boat was perpendicular to the wall. Lines were thrown to bystanders on the wall and the stern was pulled in. (Remember, Clueless had twin-screws.)

Now don't get me wrong. All the clueless canallers I met were nice people, trying to have a good time, and doing the best they could. They were not intentionally being inconsiderate and any threat they posed was primarily to themselves. The exception was docking and locking which, expecially in windy conditions, requires a certain level of seamanship. When a boat operator lacks the necessary skills, the results are funny at best and dangerous at worst. But with a little help from the lockmasters and other boaters (who, if for no other reason, are motivated by self-preservation), even the most clueless canallers almost always manage to get by without damaging anyone or anything except their egos. If you encounter one, however, keep in mind that they are unpredictable. Prudence dictates that you keep your distance and are prepared to take evasive and protective action quickly.