Completed in 1832, the Rideau Canal was created to provide a safe route, well out of range of American guns, for supply ships traveling between Montreal and Kingston. After all, in those post-War of 1812 days, relations with out southern neighbor were tense. A safe route to Lake Ontario was deemed imperative, and Lt. Col. John By of the Royal Engineers was put in charge of the project.

The original design for the canal called for the construction of locks that could handle small barges. With considerable foresight, Col. By advocated a system of much larger locks spacious enough to accommodate the new steamboats that were beginning to appear on the Great Lakes. Col. By eventually persuaded his superiors to authorize the construction of locks 134 feet long and 33 feet wide — large enough to handle even the biggest steamers of their day.

Perhaps the best place to start a Rideau Canal tour is right in Kingston. After the defeat of Montcalm in Quebec and the American Revolution, Kingston became the keystone of Britain’s dominance in the western reaches of North America. Besides being a major military centre, it was also the heart of Britain’s naval might on the Great Lakes. HMS St. Lawrence was built here as a deterrent to American raiders from Sacket’s Harbour and other ports on the south shore of Lake Ontario.

HMS St. Lawrence was a 112-gun, first-rate ship and was actually larger than Nelson’s flagship, HMS Victory, at the Battle of Trafalgar. Her bones lie in the shallows near Kingston and the wreck is a popular dive site.

Kingston’s popular farmers’ market is held in the big parking lot behind City Hall, and is a great place for boaters planning a trip up the Rideau system to pick up fresh fruit and vegetables. On a recent trip my partner Laurie and I left Kingston’s Flora MacDonald Confederation Basin and headed up the Cataraqui River. Within minutes we were into the Kingston Mills locks — the first of a series of hand-operated locks that would carry us to a height of 124.2 metres (407.5 feet) above sea level.

Lake Ontario sits at 74 metres (242.8 feet) above sea level and behind it the beginnings of the Canadian Shield rise steeply away from the shore.

As we motored along, we noticed the trees change before our eyes. Although deciduous trees were still the most prevalent in the forested stretches, the number of pines began to increase. The bird life changed too. A ton of herring gulls still squawked away, but as we neared the Lower Brewers Lock, we saw our first kingfisher.

Passing Upper Brewers Lock took us into Cranberry Lake, the first of the Rideau Lakes. This is cottage country and the shores of the Rideau waterway are lined with summer homes. Actually, the term “summer home” may be a touch grand. This is a design particular to Ontario. Less than formal, they are the architectural equivalent of shinny hockey — a gable here, a miss-matched deck protruding there. Mostly they reflect what the original builder meant them to be — comfortable fun for the family.

During the day, our passage up the Rideau’s sheltered waters was smooth, disturbed only by the occasional wake of fellow cruisers. As darkness fell, we were able to record Whitefish, Sand and Opinicon Lakes in our diaries along with the Jones Falls and Davis Locks.

Stopping just short of Chaffey’s Lock in Opinicon Lake, Laurie maneuvered the 27-foot Element while I set the hook for the evening. We could have run the locks and made it all the way up to Newboro, but we weren’t in a hurry.

The waterway is long but we had budgeted five days for a one-way passage. This allowed us a side trip up the Tay Canal to Perth, plus time to explore things that weren’t on our loosely planned itinerary.

With the hook down and the BBQ fired up we settled back to enjoy a glass of wine and watch the evening fall. The occasional shooting star traced its way across the sky, but we retreated inside when the mosquitoes began their dusk strafing runs.

In the morning, we were the first through Chaffey’s Lock. The lock attendants from Parks Canada were right on the ball cycling us through in almost as little time as it takes to tell it. Parks Canada operates and maintains the Rideau system.

After fueling at Newboro, we headed across Big Rideau and Lower Rideau Lakes before heading north on the Tay River for our berth in Perth. Dinner that night was ashore on a delightful terrace at Mexicali Rosa’s overlooking an arm of the river.

On the third morning of our sojourn on the waterway, it took us half a day to retrace our path to Lower Rideau, then continue into Smith’s Falls. Because the Rideau Canal headquarters is located within a short walk, we moored in the shadow of the Hershey Chocolate Company water tower and strolled over to take in the canal museum, then on to lunch at the Rob Roy pub right beside it.

Once we passed through the Combined Locks at Smith’s Falls, we were out of the Rideau Lakes and into the river system heading downhill to Ottawa.

We spent a leisurely afternoon chugging along and enjoying ourselves thoroughly. I dragged a Mepps Black Fury behind the boat, but all I caught was a crop of weed — except at the different locks, where I proved to be the master of sunfish.

Night number three was slated for luxury in Merrickville, at the Sam Jake’s Inn. Mooring the boat above the locks, we packed an overnight case and our cameras and laptops.

There were two stops we wanted to make. After checking in, we hurried over to the Merrickville Book Shop. My oldest and best friend, Rob, recommended it as a place to find rare books. Ever the sucker for something truly wonderful, I unleashed all the power left in my credit card.

Back at the Inn, we settled into preparations for dinner that evening at the Baldachin Restaurant. We choose an icy Sauvignon Blanc to accompany the delicately poached salmon with dill sauce. It took us an enjoyable two hours to get through dinner in the historic dining room because we kept chatting with the waitress about the history of the building.

History is an easy enough topic on the Rideau and especially in Merrickville. In the morning, we visited one of the town’s most historic buildings, the Merrickville Blockhouse.

Compared to Fort Henry, this military outpost is almost diminutive. A square, stone building with a drawbridge and surrounded by ditches, the blockhouse was one of four built to defend the canal. Its lower stone walls are more than one metre thick, while the upper wooden structure is built from square-cut logs and reinforced with heavy wooden knees — each cut from single tree — in the same way wooden ships of the time were strengthened. The Blockhouse was designed to house 50 soldiers and their weapons. As the concern about war with the Americans waned, the building was re-purposed to accommodate the lock keeper and his family. However, as late as the 1860s, the military seconded the building in times of crisis.

On an earlier trip, I bumped into Pat Molson, who lives in Merrickville and is a member of the Friends of the Rideau, a volunteer group dedicated to the preservation of the system. Pat said Merrickville had once been a major industrial centre until the railroad bypassed it, effectively killing the townpeople’s aspirations. He pointed me toward some ruins on the opposite side of the lower lock.

This was one of those unexpected finds you get when the journey, rather than the destination, is the purpose of your travels. Laurie and I wandered through the ruins of former mills and giant machinery, the sophistication of which belied the notion that the times were crude and uncomfortable.

At Burritt’s Rapids, I wanted to look around so we tied up above the lock. There’s not much here except the swing bar lock gates and lock keeper’s house. If Burritt’s looks familiar, it could be because it was one of the locations used in the Nicholas Cage film about Canada’s stellar sculling star, Ned Hanlan.

Again the day passed with little to concern us. Navigation was easy (so much so that I kept forgetting to turn on my GPS) and the traffic was consistent, but light. We made it as far as Long Island Marina just north of Manotick. We would have liked to spend some time in Manotick because there is a lovely old mill there, but sadly there are no docking facilities.

As it was our last night before hitting Ottawa (we were so close the flight path for Ottawa International Airport was directly overhead), we decided to order a catered meal from Sucré Salé. Chef Remy Borderes is originally from Toulouse and he and his wife, Michelle Guillemot (the operation’s pastry chef), have set up their gourmet kitchen in Manotick to take advantage of Ottawa’s rapid growth. Remy personally delivered the food and stayed for a glass of wine.

Our final day saw us motoring in to Dow’s Lake in downtown Ottawa. Our friends met us at the boat with their car and we set out to visit the summer side of Ottawa. Most people associate the Ottawa stretch of the Rideau with the world’s longest skating rink and Beavertails, but it is also a great summer waterway. What better time to discover it than on its 175th birthday?