This was supposed to be a quiet day, in that Viking Octantis was docking in Detroit, our hometown area, and we have previously experienced each of the available excursions (The Henry Ford, Rouge Plant Tour, Motown Museum, etc.), so we opted to spend the day on the ship.
I was on deck at 6:15 am for the start of the final leg of our journey up the Detroit River, from the rouge plant where we stopped last night, to the Boblo Island dock near the foot of the Ambassador bridge. Along this stretch, it was encouraging to see the progress made on the Gordie Howe Bridge towers and approaches, from the river perspective.
Despite no planned excursions, we had to make a nearly 2-hour visit to U.S. immigration at the Detroit-Windsor tunnel station, which involved a bus ride and waiting for agents to clear us through a process that really only took 30 seconds. Not sure why the 14 immigration agents who met the Octantis at the Boblo Island dock couldn’t have cleared us there, without the separate bus ride downtown for the few of us that were not taking excursions in metro Detroit.
Anyway, we were back to Octantis by 11 am, went to the gym and had lunch. After lunch, our activities director announced that we were ready to depart again, sailing under the Ambassador Bridge before travelling up the Detroit and St. Clair rivers towards Lake Huron. This was the first time during this cruise that we saw all of our fellow passengers at once.
The trip up the Detroit River, past the RenCen, Belle Isle and the Grosse Pointes, did not disappoint. Next was Lake St. Clair, Harsens Island and the St. Clair River, leading to the Bluewater Bridge in Port Huron/Sarnia.
Overall, this turned out to be perhaps the best part of the cruise so far, even surpassing the marvel of the locks and bridges in the Welland Canal. Every stretch of the Detroit and St. Clair rivers provided great sightseeing and the people waving from shore seemed to enjoy our unique vessel’s passage as much as we did. We reached Port Huron in time for dinner.
We’re now in the middle of Lake Huron, about as far north as Harbor Beach in Michigan’s thumb, on our way to Alpena, tomorrow’s destination.
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