I had to fudge a little bit here and there, and the route to and from Pictou (at the bottom) is not complete, but you get the idea.
Next time I will be better prepared and hopefully I can do a better job!
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Since a picture is worth a thousand words I have stitched together our route using photos taken of our plotter while we were underway.
I had to fudge a little bit here and there, and the route to and from Pictou (at the bottom) is not complete, but you get the idea. Next time I will be better prepared and hopefully I can do a better job!
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While we did our Gulf of St. Lawrence loop, we saw tons of beautiful plants and a few interesting animals. I took loads of photos, although the animals were much harder to capture in pictures. Here are some of my favourites.
It's hard to believe it was only a week ago that we were in Havre St. Pierre, Quebec. After two indulgent nights at the marina we got up last Tuesday morning, had one last shower (Dave wanted until after he changed the oil on the engine to take his!) and then walked over to the Maison de la Culture Roland Jomphe. This museum, housed in what used to be a Labrador Store, and then a Hudson's Bay Company store, was remarkable in how much information and how many items it contained, and how much work it must have taken to put it together.
Admission was a mere $2.50 per person and although all of the exhibit placards were in French, Dave and I were each given a laminated 'book' with duplicates of them translated into English to carry around with us as we walked through the exhibits. Not only did we learn about the history of the people in the area, but also about the geology and the industry, and the churches and schools over the years. They had a great exhibit showing where the Acadians went when driven out of Nova Scotia in the Grande Derangement, and then where they went when they left the Magdalenes in the Petite Derangement, when land taxes made life unaffordable for them there. Havre St. Pierre was settled by one group that left the Magdalenes. It used to be called Pointe Esquimaux (I learned that Esquimaux was the native word meaning any 'foreigner') but it was re-named Havre St. Pierre, after the patron saint of fishermen. The people fished and grew what they could for food, but life was tough. When titanium was discovered inland, in the middle of the last centure, a mine was started, and many of the locals are employed at the mine now. The railway not far from the museum holds cars full of ore that dump into huge piles that bulldozers drive on to move the ore into a big conveyor that loads ships. We spent an intense hour at the museum, taking in as much as we could. Then we stopped at the fish plant on our way back to the marina and bought some more of the tiny shrimp we had at Port au Choix and some smoked salmon 'for the road'. And we were off... but not far. Our destination was Quarry Island, only 8 Nm away, within the Mingan Archipelago Park, where there were moorings available. When we went to the Parks Canada office to buy our park passes they told us that if we go on our own boat we didn't need a parks pass. The vast majority of visitors to the park pay to be taken out to the various islands on a tour boat, and their parks entrance fee is included. The locals get to go for free if they take their own boats, and so did we. When we arrived at Quarry Island (the name Quarry is related to hunting, not to mining) there were a couple of sailboats already on moorings, but still two mooring available, so we picked one up and had lunch before heading to shore to go for a walk. The big attractions here are the 'monoliths' carved out of the rock over years by the water, and the seabirds. We headed over to the south shore, where the monoliths were and hiked along the coast, marveling at these creations of nature. It was really interesting to see how different they looked from different angles, and I was amazed at how big they were. I had taken the binoculars with me (on the recommendation of the map given to us by Parks Canada) and I was able to get a good close look at hundreds of little wading seabirds in the pools along the shore. What a neat place! Based on the weather forecast, we had planned to stay another day at Quarry Island and we were hoping to dinghy over to the neighbouring island, Niapiskau, and do some hiking there. However, it started to rain overnight and it rained all day Wednesday. It was just too miserably wet to even get off the boat, let alone go for a long dinghy ride and hike, so we hunkered down and did some things on the boat until about 5 p.m. when we were pretty shack whacky. Dave donned full rain gear and rowed over to the other two boats moored to see if anyone wanted to go to the shore for happy hour in the camping shelter there. Only the skipper of one of the boats joined us, but when we got to the shelter, we found a couple of families who were camping had a roaring fire going in the woodstove there to cook their supper (wild salmon from the Natashquan River). The shelter was toasty warm and dry, and we spent a couple of hours chatting in French, English or whatever we could figure out. It turned out that one of the women was a sister in law of someone I had spoken to on the dock in the marina - it is a small world indeed! Thursday morning we set off just before sunrise, as soon as there was enough light to see, to cross the St. Lawrence River. Our route would take us around the west end of Anticosti Island and then over to Riviere au Renard on the north shore of the Gaspe Peninsula. We left in a light misty drizzle/fog and motor sailed with the jib. As we got closer and closer to Anticosti, and we were only half a mile offshore, I was beginning to think we were going to go right past it without seeing it at all, except on radar. Then suddenly the fog lifted, and there was the shore and the lighthouse on the west point. The rest of the day we saw some fog on and off, but mostly it was sunny with a bit of cloud. We arrived at Riviere au Renard as the sun was setting - after 94 Nm and just over 15 hours under way we got the most we could out of the daylight. Riviere au Renard looks like a nice community, from the water. We have put it on the 'we should come back here sometime' list. Because of the forecast, we had decided to push on the next day, so we just dropped the hook in the outer harbour, spending a mere 9 hours there, most of it sleeping, and not setting foot on land at all. Friday morning we left at first light again, headed for Pointe Newport, which was about 42 Nm as the crow flies (or should I say as the gannet flies, as they are the predominant bird in this area?), however it was 66 Nm for us, as we had to go around the end of the Gaspe Peninsula. For the first three hours we headed along the north coast of the Gaspe Peninsula. It was a glorious morning and we had a fantastic sail out to Cap Gaspe with a single reefed main and the jib. The wind was off the land and it was warm and the seas were flat. Then we turned the corner towards the gap between Perce Rock and Bonaventure Island. Our course would take us straight into the wind, so we furled the jib, but left the main up and motor sailed, tacking back and forth to keep the main full enough to give us some power. Luckily, the view of Perce Rock was amazing, so it kept us from dwelling too much on how slowly we were going. The sun was shining, gannets swooped by us (there is a huge colony living on Bonaventure Island, as we know from the last time we were here in 1994 on our old boat, Restless, when we stopped and went for a walk on the island - it was a calm day!), and we marvelled at the view of Perce Rock and the community in the background up to the hills. Then we got around Cap Blanc and started heading for Pointe Newport. We were motor sailing almost straight into the wind, and crashing into these huge, steep, close together waves. It must have been some kind of wind against current thing going on because the waves were out of all proportion to the wind, which was brisk enough at 15-20 knots. I almost called this log "Rocks (for Quarry Island and Gaspe) and Rolls" (because it was such a rolly trip). It took us about 5 miserable hours to go 20 Nm and we arrived tired out and grumpy, but very happy to be tied up at last! The decks were so salty from being awash, I actually wished we would get some rain overnight to rinse them off. A walk up the road was just what we needed after two long days on the boat, and three without a walk. We found a lookoff point with a nice view back towards the Gaspe, and a restaurant 5 minutes walk from the wharf, where we could have supper. We went to have a look at the boatyard next to the wharf, where there were lots of enormous fishing boats, probably used for crab fishing, which is big (and lucrative) in this area. While it was a bit of an effort for both of us to stay awake when we went out for supper, we left full of another delicious meal a la Quebec. Our departure on Saturday was at first light again. Another big day, heading for Escuminac, NB. Again, we got to sail for a few hours, but most of the way was motor sailing and then motoring when the wind got too light to fill the sail. It was kind of a long, boring day, as we were 5-10 miles offshore all day, and the coast is low and sandy, so there isn't that much to see. I kept myself entertained by watching the ballet of the gannets as they flew past. These beautiful birds often fly in formation and glide on the wind and the contrast of their black wing tips to the rest of their white feathers makes them a real pleasure to watch. One thing about sailing along the coast is that you can understand why the sailors years ago used the churches to navigate as well as the lighthouses, because you almost always see the church in the community before anything else. They tend to be large buildings, often up on hills, with spires, and many of them are white - which is the easiest colour to see against the land. We saw the churches at Riviere au Renard from 20 miles away! When we arrived at Escuminac, which is apparently the biggest wharf (by some measure) in Canada, we had to inch our way in, as there wasn't much water under the keel, and at one point we actually hit bottom. Luckily we are back in the land of sand, so Dave just backed off and we tried a different route. Dave barbequed me a steak dinner for my birthday, and we watched the sunset, talked to some of the locals and shook our heads at the vehicles driving by pedal to the metal - it was like having front row seats at a race track. One lunatic even drove past us on the wharf at about 70 km/hr as we were walking! I found out the next morning that they drive their boats the same way, as I watched a fishing boat roar from one trap to another at what appeared to be full throttle. Sunday was another long day, departing before sunrise and heading into the Northumberland Strait. It's an adjustment to be back here, where 20 feet is tons of water, a depth which was great cause for concern for most of our trip in the deep, rocky waters we were traveling in. It is lobster fishing season in the western part of the Strait, and that meant we had to be on a sharp lookout. As we turned around Point Escuminac and got close to Point Sapin I saw the start of the traps. For an hour or so I felt like I was in Maine there were so many. It certainly keeps you on your toes and makes the watch go quickly anyway! It was a hot, sunny day and it was good to be in shorts and bare feet again, after wearing shoes for most of our trip. We opened hatches to air out the cabin and by noon we had the dodger window open to let some wind come through as it was so hot (not that we would complain). Although we didn't get to sail at all because the winds were too light, we had a good passage to Borden, PEI. This is where the ferry used to dock before the Confederation Bridge was built and there is quite a large area in behind the breakwaters, but not a lot of viable wharf for us, so we just anchored after a 13 hour 81 Nm day. Although the wind was light, there was a bit of a swell coming in, so it was a rather rolly night. Today we got up and left before sunrise again. We sailed for a few hours, but again the wind died and we ended up motor sailing. As I have said before, we don't mind drifting along at 3.5 to 4 knots when we only have to go short distances, but when we have a long way to go we let the 'iron jenny' help us out. We were in familiar waters now, passing by Hillsborough Bay, where Charlottetown is located, and Gull Rock, near Caribou. We picked up our mooring in Pictou at 4 p.m. all packed up and ready to head home after a great trip. Although everywhere we went this summer people were complaining about how the weather had been terrible, for us it wasn't. We weren't warm for much of the trip, but that made hiking much more pleasant, and it is always possible to put another layer on. We only had two really rainy days, and we made the best of them. Other than that the weather didn't really stop us from doing much. And now that we are back home, it appears that summer has arrived. It has been hot and sunny; in fact tonight we are wondering if we should be sleeping on the boat instead of at the house because it might be cooler. In 38 days, we've gone 1235 Nm, so many that the plotter ran out of data points and started deleting the track from the start of our trip. We have visited 5 different provinces (although we are not sure PEI counts, as we didn't get off the boat in Borden). There is so much to see, right here in our own back yard! Who knows where our next adventure will take us. I wrote my last blog the morning after we had arrived in Harrington Harbour. We had decided to stay a day to explore this lovely island community of about 280 people. So, Wednesday morning we left. But just for a few hours. We had heard that we could take a ferry to the nearby community of Chevery, on the mainland, for free. Because there are no roads here, the Quebec government provides free ferry service in certain places along this coast. The ferry operates from April until October when the ice starts. During the transition season, before the ice is good enough to snowmobile on, transportation between Chevery and Harrington Harbour is via helicopter, including the highschool students who board for the week in Chevery to go to school. We wanted to see Chevery because Dave's sister Carol and her husband Stephane had lived there around 18 years ago when he taught there for a couple of years.
We took the 11 o'clock ferry, which was a bit late leaving because they had an extra big load of passengers on the way over, which slows them down. There was an annual dinner at the seniors home in Harrington Harbour and all the seniors from the nearby community had been invited, so a contingent came over from Chevery. The ferry is a jet boat, which can take a maximum of 12 passengers per trip and runs 5 round trips a day. It travels 15-20 knots, depending on how much load it is carrying, and it is loud! The captain wheres hearing protection while he is driving. It was still a bit foggy as we set out, but as we approached the mainland it cleared up, at least enough that we could see the waves breaking all around us as we zoomed into the harbour. The ferry goes through a marked channel and we could see the depthsounder, which at some points read 6 feet (it draws 2) so it was a bit unnerving for me, but we arrived safe and sound. Darryl (a local from Harrington) was driving Joelle (the woman engineer we had met the previous day working on the new marina construction) to the airport as she was flying home for her week off, so we hitched a ride and after he dropped her at the airport he gave us a bit of a tour around the community. Although it has about the same population as Harrington Harbour, it is much more spread out. It is also really sandy - along the shore as we came in just seemed to be one big long beach - quite different from the shore we had seen so far. Although there are houses built quite close to the shore apparently there have been some issues with erosion recently and a few homes have had to be moved away, despite some rock breakwaters being put in. Darryl dropped us off and we walked through 'town', past the arena, which was one of those big thick plastic tent like buildings (which I found out a few days later you can see for miles from see, as it is white) and back down to the wharf. We stopped at the store to try to buy some water (we had left the boat in a rush to catch the ferry and we weren't prepared), but they were closed for lunch, so we were out of luck. Most of the stores in this small coastal communities close for lunch and supper. When we had arrived in Chevery we had seen a fantastic waterfall near the wharf and we decided to see if we could hike over and have a look at it. Luckily for us, there was a beautiful hiking trail and we had just enough time to walk as far as the first point where we could see the falls and get back in time for the return trip on the ferry at 1:15. Back in Harrington Harbour, after we had lunch we went to visit the Rowsell House museum, where they had a lot of interesting items, photos and information chronicling life in this island community over the years. The community started with four families who came from the southwest coast of Newfoundland to this coast which was more protected and hospitable for fishing. We learned a lot about the Grenfell mission, which brought medical and other support to many communities along the coast, and that the island was sometimes called 'Hospital Island' because the hospital (which is now the seniors home) was located here. They had photos of Bobby Orr fishing here, and we found out later that he actually ran some hockey camps here and brought skates for the kids! I also learned a bit more about the various birds we have seen along the way, as they had some really good information on identifying birds, whales and plants of the area. Today in Harrington, they re-purpose old snowmobile treads as anti slip mats on the slopes of the boardwalks and get around in runabout dinghies which they call "outboards". When we arrived on Tuesday evening, a local woman named Sharon had come down to the wharf to welcome us, telling us they had a sailboat and inviting us up for tea, so we walked up to her place to see if she and her husband wanted to come down and see the boat. Two hours later we were still sitting in their home listening to fascinating stories about life on the island and this coast. Sharon is from a community just east of here called La Tabatiere, while her husband Jim grew up in Harrington Harbour. They actually met in Newfoundland, and were away for many years working, but came back 10 years ago to retire here. Eventually we all came down to Romana for a drink, and they invited us to their home for supper the next day. Because of the weather forecast we had decided to stay one more day in Harrington, as it was supposed to be strong SW winds, exactly the direction we were going, and it is no fun to motor into big winds and seas. We were really glad we stayed, as Thursday was a beautiful sunny day and we got to explore the island even more. We did two big walks - one in the morning to the northeast end of the boardwalk, and one in the afternoon, up to the ridge where we had fabulous views of the community below, the islands all around, and the coast. On the way up to the ridge we passed the outdoor rink (despite the complaints of a cold summer there was no ice on it), the swimming pool, and the cemetary. The trail started out on the 'winter trail', used to snowmobile to the other side of the island and onto the ice to get to the mainland, and then we took a boardwalk up to Marguerite's Cave. The story, as I understand it, is that Marguerite, her lover and a servant got left on the island by her husband. Margeurite had a baby, but she was the only one that survived the winter (presumably using the cave as shelter) and eventually some French sailors came to the island and rescued her. We had a look at the cave and then climbed up the rocks to the ridge where we enjoyed the fabulous views in the wind. That evening we had a lovely visit with Sharon and Jim, and they treated us to a delicious supper including codfish, broccoli & cucumbers (which we hadn't even seen for a couple of weeks - Sharon says you have to get to the store within hours of the boat to get stuff like that) and ice cream with strawberries for dessert. It was a thorougly enjoyable and extremely interesting evening, discussing everything from the history of the house (it belonged to Jim's uncle and is 88 years old, and there is no insulation in the walls, but the 30 or so layers of wallpaper do help), to the recently installed water main system (they get their water from three small ponds on the island) to small town politics and what can be done to keep these isolated coastal communities going (would extending the 138 road to this section of the coast help them or be the death of them?). On Friday morning it was time to move on, so we left at 5 and motored down the coast in very light winds, dropping the hook mid afternoon in the eastern arm of a place called Baie Coacoachou. There is nothing here but a few hunting and fishing camps in the western arm, beautiful rocky landscape and MILLIONS of blackflies. The onslaught began as we motored up the bay and as soon as we were anchored more descended upon us. In minutes we were down below with the screen in. That night we ate the snow crab that we had bought at the fish plant the day before, and the only time either of us ventured out was when Dave went out for a few seconds to dump the shells overboard. It was a shame, because the sunset that night was absolutely spectacular, reflecting off the red in the rocks and the perfectly still water around us, but we could only look at it out of the ports and wish we had one of those full cockpit enclosures with screens. Saturday morning we left before 5 again and spent the first half hour of our trip killing the mosquitoes that had been lurking in the cockpit and came along for the ride. Again we had light winds and motored the entire way, unfurling the jib when we had enough wind to keep it full. Because winds here are typically SW and W, and harbours are few and far between, we had deliberately decided to do some fairly long days while the forecast was for N and E winds. On these long days on the water we are lucky if we even see one other boat. But we are almost always in the company of birds. Here they have gulls and terns, which we are familiar with, but also gannets, Atlantic puffins, razorbills (known as tinkers locally, or petit pingouin in French) and eiders, which swim in large tight groups called creches. The first time I saw this, I thought it was an uncharted rock and almost had a heart attack before I figured out what it was. About mid afternoon we got close enough to the community of Natashquan to get cellphone service. Finally, after just over a week! We answered a flurry of texts, checked and sent some emails, and got the weather. Although we had managed to get into the rhythm of listening to the weather on the VHF it is far easier to get it in seconds via the internet. We arrived in Natashquan just before 5 p.m. and a local man named Jacques helped us tie up to the wharf. Later, Dave told me that he almost said to Jacques "Finally we find someone in Quebec who speaks French!" as this was the first french community we have stopped at since we got here. Jacques had crewed on many sailboats, including a couple of Corbins, and at one time was the district head for Canadian Power Squadran in this area, so he knew his way around boats. It turned out that he and his wife Nicole were on the beach and saw us coming in, so they drove over to the wharf to say hello. They offered to drive us into town, and proceeded to give us a tour, pointing out the two restaurants, the birthplace of a famous French writer (I didn't get his name) and their home along the way. The community of 250 was established just over 150 years ago and is a lovely spot on a river, with a combination of the beautiful rocky shore and some sandy beaches. Just up the road is the Innu community of Grande Natashquan, with a population of 1000 people. This used to be the end of the road, literally, as highway 138 didn't extend any further east, but a couple of years ago they took it as far as Kegashka, about 30 or 40 miles east of here. Jacques and Nicole dropped us off at the beach, so that we could have a look, and then we ambled back through town, stopping at the store to pick up a few fresh vegetables before we went for supper at Gout du Large, a little restaurant with a big menu. It is such a pleasure to eat out in Quebec, because the French really know how to cook, and eating out is a social activity even in small cafes. Dave had a salmon club house and I had a salad and a poutine with chicken and peas - it was amazing. They had 6 or 7 different kinds of poutine on the menu, and then 3 more on the specials board, so I guess it is one of their specialties. They seemed to be doing a roaring trade in takeout pizza as well, which I guess was not a surprise on a Saturday night. Nicole had told us there was going to be some live music starting at 9 p.m., which would have been really fun, but after a long day on the water and another early start planned the next day, we ended up in bed around 8:30 that night. Sunday we were awoken just after 4 a.m. when a fishing boat left the wharf, so we got up, since we had the alarm set for 4:15 anyway. Another day of motoring west in light winds and our fourth sunny day in a row! In the middle of the day it warmed up enough in the cockpit for me to peel off to my tshirt and go barefoot. We even open a couple of hatches while underway, for the first time this trip. Perhaps summer has finally arrived? We got to Havre St. Pierre just before 4 p.m. and tied up to a floating dock in the marina here. As it was Sunday evening there was a lot of boat traffic coming and going - a combination of fishing boats, small power boats of all descriptions, big tour boats and Parks Canada boats. We have a front row seat, as we are tied up on a dock quite close to the entrance through the breakwater so we get to see all the boats entering and leaving. Havre St. Pierre is the hub of the Mingan Archipelago National Parks Reserve, a series of islands noted for their wildlife (birds, whales, rare thistles) and interesting rock formations, called monoliths, on the limestone shores of the islands. It is a bustling town of about 3500 people with a very nice marina and waterfront. After covering 192 Nmiles in 3 days, we were ready to slow down and spend some time here, so we went to get some information about the islands and what to see and do. Our plan is to go and pick up a mooring at Quarry Island and explore from there, but as it turns out, the wind forecast for Monday was not good for that, so we decided to stay in Havre St. Pierre for the day. Here we got hot showers, filled up with water, stocked up on groceries at the best grocery store since we left home, and practiced our french. Oh, and did I mention we have wifi here at the marina? Like people in the desert needing water and finding a lake, we have immersed ourselves in the internet, downloading magazines, apps, checking home email, banking etc. You have no idea how much you use the internet until you don't have it, or have limited access because you are using cellphones with restricted data plans. Now we have had our fix and it should last us until we get home. On our way back from the grocery store we walked along the promenade stopping to read all of the information boards they have provided (in French AND English) with information about and the history of the community. The people here are very friendly. Descended from some Acadians that were driven out of Nova Scotia, went to the Magadalene Islands and then settled here, they call themselves Cayans. There are Acadian flags all over town, and even the street signs sport them. We have had lots of conversations with people on the docks where we speak broken french and they speak broken English, and we all end up in a crazy kind of Franglais, but it is great fun. One of the women we met, who is from Quebec city originally, told me that they have such an unusual accent here that when she took her husband home to meet her parents, they couldn't understand what he was saying! Tomorrow we plan to set off and spend a few days in the islands of the Park before our next big leg of the trip, which will be to cross the St. Lawrence to the Gaspe Peninsula. Based on the forecast right now, it looks like that will be on Friday. Then we will start the trip home along the New Brunswick coast. When I finished my last blog we were anchored in Port Saunders and Dave was getting ready to go for a swim. He put on his shorty wetsuit and went in the 12 deg C water to move the line cutter and two hours, a cuddle under the duvet, and soup and grilled cheese later he was still shivering! He finally warmed up and we started the engine, but we still had a noise coming from the shaft. So after having another look around in the engine room, Dave figured out that the coupling had shifted. He got it adjusted and tightened up again and we started the engine and actually pulled up the anchor and set off, but there was more noise, so we turned around and dropped the hook again. Dave had to go in the water again (it had warmed up to 14.5 deg C) and move the line cutter back to where it was. This time he wasn't in the water as long, and he was able to warm up in a bit of sun breaking through the clouds, so that was good. By then it was after 4 p.m. and we decided we weren't going anywhere that day, so we rowed over to shore and went for a walk along the rocks just to stretch our legs after almost a day and a half on board.
Thursday morning we got up and headed off for Port au Choix. It was only 14 Nm so we anticipated an easy trip, but after a couple of miles we got into a thick fog. Visibility was less than 0.1 Nm and although we were heading along the coast we couldn't see it. It is quite an unnerving feeling, and you lose all sense of scale. A couple of times I saw a gannet on the water and thought it was a boat. We saw a few dories out fishing, and it was comforting to see some signs of life. As we turned into the harbour at Port au Choix the fog cleared and we could see our way in. Some fishermen showed us where we could tie up to the sturdiest floating wharf we have ever seen and by 10:30 we were all settled in. I had heard we could get laundry and showers at the Fisheries and Oceans building on the wharf, so we went to check it out. We had a nice chat with the young man working there as a summer student and found out there was indeed laundry and showers. I got a couple of loads in. At $1 per wash and $1 per dry it's the best deal I have seen on laundry in years - our tax dollars at work! We went to get groceries, had lunch, got water (Dave lugged 10 gallons and then a couple of friendly fishermen drove the next 10 down in their truck), and filled up with diesel. There is no diesel on the wharves on this coast - you just have to 'call the truck' and they come down and fill you up. By 3 p.m. we had all of our 'chores' done, so we decided to walk up to the Port au Choix National Historic Site, which we had heard about. When I inquired for directions at the post office she said it wasn't far, but she assumed we had a car (because what tourist wouldn't). In fact we walked a couple of km up a long straight road that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. We found out later we were on the limestone barrens, a very specific ecosystem that has three or four endangered species of plants living in it. Who knew? It just looked like a big gravel pit to us. We finally got to the Visitor's Centre an hour before closing time, which was just enough time for us to watch the film they had and see the exhibits, all about the four waves of people that lived here over the last 6000 years - including PaleoEskimos, Doreset people, ancestors of the Beothuk (who tragically died out in Newfoundland) and the French and English, who seemed to co-exist fairly peacefully along this coast. It was quite interesting, and they had a lot of artifacts from archaeological digs in the area. We decided to walk back along the trail across the point, which was another 5 km. By the time we got back to the boat we were pretty tired out, but after a drink and a bit of a rest for our feet we headed up to get a shower. I have to say this was one of the most interesting shower experiences I have ever had. The shower room, obviously designed for all male crews on fishing boats, had kind of a foyer with a bench and a hand drier mounted above head height (presumably to dry your hair) and then another area with 4 showers on each side. Each 'stall' had a curtain on it. The place was deserted, so Dave and I figured I would be safe if he kept an eye out. Luckily we hung our bags and towels on the hooks provided, because as soon as I turned the shower on, the water shot out and under the shower curtain about half way across the floor! I tried a different shower, but it did the same thing. The shower water ran for about 30 seconds at a time and then you had to punch the handle in again and, as Dave and I had our showers, the water level on the floor started to rise. Either the drains were very undersized or something was plugged or not working properly. We tried to keep the showers as short as possible and waded out to the foyer to get dried off and changed. We had decided to go out for supper, and at the recommendation of the diesel truck driver we walked over to The Anchor, where we had a delicious meal. Dave ordered the local shrimp, which is tiny but sweet and super delicious, and I had halibut. We waddled back to the boat, very satisfied with our visit to Port au Choix on all fronts. That night we enjoyed the sensation of being freshly showered and sleeping in freshly laundered sheets - heaven! Although we liked Port au Choix, we had decided that we were going to do a circumnavigation of the Gulf of St. Lawrence rather than go back down the west coast of Newfoundland, so we felt we should push on. Our plan is to head west along the Quebec coast until we are just west of Anticosti Island and then cross the St. Lawrence River to the Gaspe peninsula before heading south along the New Brunswick coast and into our home waters of the Northumberland Strait. Friday morning we set off for New Ferolle Cove, about 25 Nm north up the coast. It was a beautiful sunny day when we left and we even got to sail for a while until the wind died but by early afternoon we were tying up to a 65 foot fishing boat at the wharf in New Ferolle Cove. Unfortunately the wind had picked up just before we docked and it was a bit tricky getting alongside, and in the process we knocked off one of our navigation lights on one of the fishing boat's big fenders. Luckily the water was clear and although we were in 13 feet we could see the light, so we decided to try fishing for it. We had just got the fishing rod out when a local came over for a chat. As Dave tried fishing for the light, we chatted to Ray, a fisherman from two communities up the coast (Reef Harbour). We had no luck with the fishing rod, so I suggested trying a bucket. Ray figured it had to be metal, so he went and got a fire bucket from the fishing boat. After about 20 minutes of trying to pick up the light with the bucket, with Ray and I moving the dinghy back and forth while Dave used the looky bucket to see what he was doing, Dave finally decided he should just go in the water and dive for the light. The water was a balmy 16.5 deg C so he didn't even put his wetsuit on. One dive and he had the light! The adventure never stops! We went for a walk around the point, to the lighthouse, which ended up being a little longer than we had bargained for (again - there seems to be a theme here?), and that night I cooked some cod which a fellow had given to us in Port au Choix. I cannot say enough about how kind and friendly the people of Newfoundland are. It is such a pleasure visiting this island and meeting them, and we were sad to be leaving. Saturday morning we got up at 5:30 and left, ready to cross over from Newfoundland to area of Quebec called 'the North Shore' or 'La Cote du Nord', as it is the northern shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Our destination was St. Augustine, just under 60 miles away. Rather than crossing to the closest point on the Quebec side, we wanted to move a bit west as well. The day before we had seen the coast of Quebec to the north about 30 miles, but now it was a drizzly morning and we couldn't see far. It was a bit of a hard trip. Again the wind was behind us but very light, so we couldn't keep a sail up, but the seas were very rolly. We bounced around for 40 miles feeling grim. I managed to make a sandwich for Dave and heat up some beans for me for lunch, but other than that we survived on snacks. It was drizzling most of the day and then it got foggy. And then it got foggier! We found the fairway buoy on radar, and heard it groaning, but never saw it, and it was only 0.1 Nm away! By 2:30 we got in the lee of some islands and the swell dropped a bunch. This helped us feel better, but we still had about 15 miles to navigate through a bunch of islands in the fog. Using radar and the plotter we picked our way in, finally tying up to a barge docked at the end of the big government wharf at 4 p.m. We were worn out, but happy to be there. The place was deserted. We went for a walk up the dirt road to explore a bit. It is beautiful - red granite rocks, trees and bog - but the bugs were plentiful and fierce. As we walked along the road, an osprey flew down really close to us - the closest I have ever seen one - adding to our sense of really being away from it all. Back at the boat we looked at the Road Atlas (ironic since there are no roads here) and figured out we were on AST, so we adjusted our watches by half an hour. Dave braved the bugs and barbequed hamburgers for supper, but we couldn't stay up in the cockpit to eat. It was a super still, calm, quiet night and we didn't see a soul. There's no cellphone coverage on this part of the coast, so we are out of touch for a while and back to trying to get the marine weather forecast on the VHF (like 'in the olden days'). The next morning it was raining, so we spent most of the morning doing chores around the boat. Just after noon (or so we thought) we heard the sound of an outboard. Dave went up to say hi and we ended up having quite a chat with Neil, who works at the wharf for the ferry service. He told us that the road we had walked on goes 11 km to 'the Reserve' but the community of St. Augustine is on the other side of the river, so they have to take a small ferry to get across to the road. St. Augustine has roads, but Neil said you can drive from one side of town to the other in 10 minutes. He told us "the water is our highway 130". And in the winter, when the bays freeze over, they go everywhere on snowmobiles. On this section of coast there are no roads between communities, but there is a ferry service that runs along the coast, stopping at the communities once or twice a week. From what I understand, it's not as much a car ferry, as a people and goods ferry. It goes as far east as Blanc Sablon, then turns around and comes back. Neil told us the ferry was coming in at 10 p.m. that night and that the barge would be leaving to take cargo from the ferry up to the town around 9 a.m. Monday morning. He also told us that they were actually on EST here, so we adjusted our watches back another hour. Knowing we were okay to stay tied to the barge for the day, we decided to take the dinghy up to see St. Augustine. It was a 20 minute ride (on plane), so about 5 Nm, and Neil had told us to follow the buoys to stay away from the sandbars, especially at low tide. when we got to town and went for a walk we had to contend with the bugs again, but soon the fog lifted, so at least we could see the bay. We stopped in at the local store and bought some hummus and a couple of plums (I was pretty excited to see the hummus). There are some very nice homes in St. Augustine and every household seems to own a boat, a four wheeler and a snowmobile, while some have trucks or cars. Neil told us that most people go away to work and that the community is getting older as many of the young people go away and don't come back - a sad and too familiar story here in the Maritimes. When we got back to Romana I tried to set up a bug net around the cockpit. We had brought some bits and pieces to try to make this work, so it was a test version. I played around with it a bit and got the idea right, but there is still some tweaking to do. As I finished up, a truck arrived at the wharf and soon we were chatting with a family from Pakuashipi (the reserve at the end of the road, across from St. Augustine). They are Innu, and the grandmother, Christianne, was very chatty, and spoke Montaigne (the native language), French and English. Her daughter Anna and 3 of her children, aged 11, 9 and 9 months were with her. We learned a bit more about life on this shore, and that they use the ferry to get around and often leave vehicles at either end of the ferry route. They can also get in and out of the community via plane. Although St. Augustine is an English community, as quite a few of the places along this shore are (many were settled by people from Newfoundland), the children in Pakuashipi speak French, as well as their native language. The accent of the English speaking people here is similar to a Newfoundland accent, but with a bit of a French twist. Neil, who said he didn't speak French at all, pronounced the names of french areas nearby with what sounded like perfect pronounciation to us. Even more interesting is that when people who speak French are speaking English to us, they translate the names of places into English! It took me a while to figure out that when Christianne was referring to Seven Islands, she was talking about Sept-Isles. The time change had us all mixed up so that night we went to bed just before 9, anticipating getting woken up by the ferry. Sure enough, it arrived at 10:40 but we didn't get up to have a look as it was raining. The next morning I was awoken to the sound of fork trucks backing up just before 5 a.m. and soon they were loading things onto the barge. We had breakfast and left at 7 a.m. The fog had lifted and we planned to have a short day going through the Petit Rigolet passage, about 15 miles of water sheltered by a couple of big islands to the south. It was a beautiful trip and soon we had just enough wind to sail slowly along the passage looking at the rocks and islands all around us. We could hear a loon call, and water rushing from streams off the rocks. Parts of the passage were quite narrow, but the water is very deep, so it isn't too difficult to navigate. As we reached the western end of the passage and headed into Baie du Portage du Canot, where we planned to anchor for the night, we figured out that the datum on the chart plotter wasn't right, so we had to ignore our position shown and go back to using some of our old navigational skills to head up the bay. We had some difficulty getting our anchor to set, but got it on the second try. The bugs had been following us all the way down the Petit Rigolet and were even more plentiful once we stopped moving. After lunch (below) we donned our bug hats and long sleeves and boots and went to shore to go for a walk. We had read that there was a trail over to Baie de Ha! Ha! and we found a snowmobile trail, complete with a Quebec DOT warming hut and various 'road' signs for the trail. We only got as far as a pond just before the bay when we gave up. The terrain was very squelchy and the bugs were ridiculous. Even with the bug hats they were almost unbearable. Back at the dinghy we motored around the cove and found that a bit of wind had come up and the bugs weren't too bad there. We walked on some rocks on the shore before heading back to the boat. We were able to sit in the cockpit while the wind blew, but as soon as it dropped off the bugs came back and drove us down below. I really need to perfect that bug screen for the rest of our trip down this shore! So far we have encountered four different types of bugs, or 'flies', as the locals call them. There are the tiny blackflies whose bites you don't feel until after they are gone, and then they swell up and/or bleed and itch like crazy. Then there are the standard mosquitoes, as evidenced by a different kind of swelling and itch. Third are the deer flies, who can take a chunk right out of you when they bite. So far we have been lucky and neither of us has been bitten by any of them. Finally Dave saw some tiny house fly like critters - we are not sure if they bite or not. Even though the weather has warmed up in the last week so we have shed a layer or two, we are still wearing long pants and long sleeves. Despite that, the 'flies' have managed to find all of our exposed skin and made a meal of it. One of my ears is red and ridiculously itchy and this morning I woke up and my top lip was swollen up with a bite. We haven't resorted to taking Benadryl yet, but that day may come still. Yesterday morning we left for a fairly long day (52 Nm) to Harrington Harbour. We got up at 5 to fog, but decided to leave anyway and picked our way out of the bay and then south to the very narrow Passage Germain which was a bit of a nail biter to get through. Luckily conditions were calm and the fog had lifted a bit so even though you felt like the rocks were only a boat length away we made it through with no problems. By 7:30 the fog had cleared out where we were and it was a beautiful sunny day. I saw another sailboat, off in the distance, heading in the opposite direction from us. This was notable, as it is only the fourth sailboat we have seen since we left Bay of Islands a couple of weeks ago. Sometimes it feels pretty lonely out here, so we were happy to overhear a long conversation on the VHF between two local fishermen catching up on the news and the woes of the ferry. Knowing they are out here too helps. We were able to sail for about an hour and a half, but then the winds dropped again and we motored the rest of the way, arriving at the public wharf in Harrington Harbour mid afternoon. At first I was underwhelmed, as the wharf is a busy place with a fisherman's co-op, forklifts buzzing around and the hum of refrigeration trucks and generators all around us. A couple of locals came down on their 4 wheelers to chat and we decided to go for a walk. As soon as we stepped off the wharf I realized how absolutely charming this community of 280 people is. Located on an island, their 'roads' are boardwalks, interrupted from time to time by rock and their 'cars' are 4 wheelers. It started to rain, so we took refuge in one of the two grocery/hardware/everything else stores in town, and then checked out the other one. I wanted to go to the post office to mail a letter, so we walked up the boardwalk to find it. It started pouring rain again, so we went to huddle under an entryway at the community hall and ended up having a good chat with the fellow there doing some painting and maintenance work. It looks like a very well kept and useful facility. Further up the boardwalk, and over 'the ravine' we found the post office, a tiny little building beside a house where the postmistress lives. We had another good chat with her, and learned that before the boardwalks and 4 wheelers, everyone just walked around the community. Further along we found a construction crew who were working on building a new wharf facility in a more protected cove. The project includes bringing rocks for a breakwater from the mainland and putting in floating docks, which will have to be fairly substantial to support the fishing boats here. We had heard that we could get fresh lobster at the co-op, so on the way back to the boat we bought a couple for supper. They were delicious! It rained on and off all evening, but I was able to get up to the stores to get a few fresh things when they re-opened after supper. They had a bit of a run on their produce this week, as a problem with the normal ferry boat has thrown everything off schedule and they had to wait a bit longer than normal to stock up, but I got enough to keep us going for a while. Speaking to the woman at the store I solved the mystery of the time change - they ARE on AST here, but they don't change their clocks to daylight savings time, so in the winter they are on AST and in the summer they are on EST. About an hour after we went to bed last night we were awoken by the crash of thunder and a deluge of rain. Lightning was all around and the thunder kept rolling on. Dave went out in a downpour to adjust our dock lines and then waited for the rain to let up a bit before going out to remove the drain plug on the dinghy (which is up on the davits) so that it wouldn't fill up with water. It was not a quiet night and the thunderstorms rolled through until early morning when the rain finally stopped. I saw the sun in the sky for about two minutes this morning before... the fog rolled in. And so it goes. I am sure this is not the last we will see of the fog or the flies, but to be able to visit this place is worth it. We are probably going to stay in Harrington one more day before we push on along the coast and I am not sure when I will be able to post this blog, but eventually we will find either internet access or cellphone coverage. As I start this blog, we are sitting at anchor in Port Saunders, Newfoundland. It's a bit rainy out and Dave is trying to psych himself up to go for a swim. Not the recreational type, as the water is only 13 deg C, but out of necessity. Yesterday we had a problem which we think is related to something on the prop shaft, so he is going down to have a look at the line cutter, which he suspects may be the issue.
He's already taken some photos with the underwater camera, which don't show any major damage, so that is a good thing. We set of from Cow Head yesterday morning with a forecast for winds of 20 knots from the south. We were expecting a good sail up the coast, but the wind didn't show up, so we motor sailed for a few hours until it dropped off and we had to furl the jib and just motor. After about 6 hours underway we had done 40 miles, which was excellent progress, due in part to a very favourable current adding a knot or more to our speed over the ground. And then a vibration started... and then it got worse. We put the engine in neutral and it went away. We put it in forward and it came back, accompanied by a metallic grinding sound... not good. We put the engine in reverse... no vibration, no grinding. Dave looked at the engine and everything looked okay there. So we unfurled the jib and sailed. The wind was very light and almost directly behind us, so we drifted along at a painfully slow 2-3 knots (over the ground - thank goodness for the current) for about 3 hours. We were approaching Keppel Island, at the entrance to the bay where Port Saunders is located when the wind pretty well died. We knew we were moving slightly because we could still steer the boat, but we were going so slowly that the knot meter wouldn't register any speed and the plotter only showed us moving occasionally when we made enough progress for it to update. After bobbing around for an hour with the wind dropping even more, Dave decided to try backing in past the island, thinking if we got in the lee we would get out of the swells and be able to get the engine on the dinghy and use the dinghy to drive us in. If anyone was watching us trying to back Romana into the harbour they must have thought we were nuts! We have no steerage, so it was kind of like tacking erratically backwards - ridiculous. In the end Dave put it in idle forward and we crept into the harbour hoping we weren't doing any further damage. We were both relieved when we anchored near the south shore of the harbour almost 12 hours (and only 53 miles) after we left Cow Head. Minutes after we put the anchor down, it started to rain, so in a way it was perfect timing! It was raining when I wrote my last blog, in Neddies Harbour. After sitting around the boat all morning we were all happy to get off the boat when there was a bit of a lull in the rain and we got suited up in our rain gear and walked down to the Marine Service Centre, where they have an Aquarium associated with Memorial University, and they give tours. We had an interesting tour, learning a lot about the aquatic life of the area, and seeing a bunch of sea creatures up close. Deborah and I were a little disappointed to find out that the woman who gave us the tour was a psych major rather than a biologist, but she did an adequate job. After the aquarium we went over to the pub, where we were told they had wifi. They also had french fries, beer, and even more exciting, heat! We sat up on the second level overlooking the bay, toasty warm, while we took advantage of the wifi and the power plugs to check email, post blogs, charge devices etc. Back at the boat that evening it was so cold that we fired up the kerosene lamp to try to warm the cabin up a bit. Friday morning the weather had improved, and soon the sun was out! We decided to head down the East Arm of Bonne Bay towards Lomond Cove, where there was a campground with some trails and apparently showers. There was no wind, so we motored down the arm and anchored in the cove then packed a lunch and headed to shore to hike the Lomond River trail. While hunting for the showers, we ran into the caretaker for the campground, who told us they had HOT showers just up the hill. Looking forward to HOT showers later that day, we set off on the Lomond River trail. Despite the rain the day before the trail wasn't nearly as muddy as we had expected. We encountered some bugs for almost the first time in our hikes (it's probably been too cold for them) but mostly around the fresh water streams, and if we kept moving it wasn't too bad. We saw quite a few toads, and a ton of lady slippers, which were in perfect bloom, and lovely. After lunch by the river we hiked back and found that the clouds had all cleared away and we had a great view of Killdevil Mountain on the other side of the arm. While we were hiking, Bill made up this song (sung to the tune of "I've Been Working on the Railroad": I'm becoming a Newfoundlander All the live long day Wearing t-shirt, short and flip flops From the start of May Can't you hear my teeth a-chattering It's Morse Code for I'm OK I'm becoming a Newfoundlander And I wouldn't have it any other way We went back to the boat to get our shower stuff and had one of those showers - the ones that feel so amazing because you haven't had one in over a week! And the water was HOT, HOT, HOT! It was great. Back at the boat we watched Minke whales playing in the water and Deborah tried hard to watch the sunset (despite the fact that it was setting behind the hills we did see some beautiful pink skies and orange on the hills). Saturday morning we went for a hike in the other direction, to a place called Stanleyville, which was once a logging community, with a big wharf with sailing ships tied up to - we saw photos. Now it is just a pebbly beach in a cove with a meadow behind it and a couple of the red chairs put there by the Park. It was a nice hike through the forest over a hill to the beach, which was very interesting - tons of different shaped pebbles and shells to sift through. We wandered the beach, sat in the chairs, watched the whales and ate wild strawberries. We've been eating them on many of our hikes and they are delicious, but the meadow by this beach had more than we have seen anywhere so far. After we hiked back to the boat and had lunch we hauuled up the anchor and headed back up the Arm. Our original plan was to go to Rocky Harbour, but although in the cove the wind had been SE, when we got out into the Arm it was about 15-20 knots NW, right in our face, and not a good direction to be in Rocky Harbour. We decided instead to go back and anchor in Neddies Harbour. As it was the last night Bill and Deborah were on board, we went out for supper at the Black Spruce Restaurant, taking the dinghy across the harbour to make the walk shorter. We couldn't get a reservation until 8 p.m. so it was after 10 when we got back in the dinghy to head back to Romana. Halfway back, Bill realized he had left his hat behind, so the guys dropped Deborah and I off at the boat and headed back to get it. While they were on their way, Dave received a phone call from Michelle, telling him that our newest grandchild, Sophie Michelle Huber had finally arrived! When Dave and Bill got back to the boat, he told me to look on my phone (Deborah and I had been sitting in the cockpit chatting and enjoying the perfectly still, clear night) and there were photos of Sophie. Sunday morning we said goodbye to Bill and Deborah, who got their taxi to the airport at 11:30. Twenty minutes later we had the dinghy on the davits, the anchor up and we were on our way north - destination Cow Head. It was a beautiful sunny day, but still pretty cold in the wind. As usual we were heading straight into it as we motored out off Bonne Bay, past Rocky Harbour and Lobster Cove Head Lighthouse. As soon as we got out of the bay the wind dropped off to nothing. We motored up the coast, enjoying the views of Gros Morne, Western Brook Pond and other features of the Park that we had seen from land. It got so warm under the dodger that I actually got down to my t-shirt for the first time since we have been in Newfoundland! We arrived at Cow Head around 5 p.m. and tied up to the wharf there. The wharf is out on an island, which is connected via an isthmus (so I guess it isn't really an island) to the town. We decided to walk in to town to stretch our legs and see if they had a store. Once we crossed the isthmus, I found out from a fellow at a B & B that they had "the best grocery store in the park" five minutes up the road, so we went to check it out. Although we had no bags or backpacks to lug groceries in, we did have Dave's wallet, so we stocked up with what we thought was a reasonable amount (including a bottle of rum) and walked back to the boat laden with bags. That evening cocktail hour was a bit more low key than it was while Bill and Deborah were aboard. Now that it is just the two of us again it is different. It was great to have them with us to explore, especially doing all the hiking in Gros Morne. And it is nice to have extra help when we need it and we had lots of fun with them. Also, having other people on board gives you new perspective and fresh eyes. We can appreciate how lucky we are to be able to travel this way and see things that you don't get to see from land. Bill came up with a great phrase, which I plan to use in the future. When we were trying to figure out how to get somewhere he said "Is it dinghable?", meaning "can we get there in the dinghy?". You see things differently (literally and figuratively) when you travel by boat. We decided to stay another night in Cow Head, so on Monday, Dave got the folding bikes out and assembled them and we set off on a little tour. We biked through the town and out to the Shallow Bay Campground, where there was supposed to be a spectacular sandy beach. It wasn't exactly beach weather - sprinkles of rain, a cold wind and overcast skies - so we didn't pay the park fee to go and have a look, but we took a loop out to the highway and back down into Cow Head. We got a few more groceries and then stopped in a lovely little Botanical Garden, in a church yard just across the street from the grocery store to eat our lunch. The garden was put together and is maintained by a community group and it is full of both wild and cultivated plants - they wanted to see what they could grow here with some TLC and they have done a great job. Unfortunately a couple of minutes after we sat down to eat it started to rain, so we got back on the bikes and went back to the boat to finish our lunch there. Later on that afternoon, when the rain had pretty much fizzled out, we took the bikes to the trailhead of the Lighthouse Trail, a community built and maintained trail on the island, and not far from the boat. We hiked this pretty little trail, with a couple of lookoffs at the rocky shore, a stop at the recently refurbished (but non functioning) lighthouse, then up a trail along some cliffs to Big Hill, where they boast of the best views of the hills of Gros Morne. It was a bit cloudy, but still pretty impressive. We learned that the island, which was called Summerside, was where the people lived during the summer, while they were fishing, and then they moved back into the town, which was called Winterside, across the 'Sandbar' which is what they called the isthmus. Apparently a while back they re-settled the island community, which seems a bit strange to us as it is only a 20 minute walk, 6 minute bike ride, and probably a 2 minute drive from the island to town. We are having a hard time finding places to leave our garbage, as it seems the wharves here don't have dumpsters or garbage cans, which makes it a bit of a challenge, and we were not really prepared with as much warm clothing as we have needed for the cold weather (we are even pushing the limit of 'repeat wears' for boaters) but those are just minor inconveniences compared to how much we have been enjoying this beautiful place. Our next destination is Port Au Choix, which is only about 15 miles away, so hopefully the line cutter is fixed and we will be on our away again soon. NOTE: I am posting this blog from Port Au Choix. Our problem appears to be fixed after two swims and some work on the coupling by Dave. Since Bill and Deborah arrived a week ago we have done a ton of walking and hiking and had three feeds of cod! When they arrived last Wednesday we walked from the marina to downtown Cornerbrook (no small feat - it took us an hour and fifteen minutes at a fast clip - but it was good training for what was to come) and had fish and chips - our first feed.
Saturday marked the start of three weeks of open cod fishing here in Newfoundland - with a limit of 5 fish per person and 15 fish per boat. Saturday morning at Woods Island, a couple of locals gave us some of their catch, which Bill cooked up that night for supper - our second feed. And then a couple of days ago on our way from Woody Point back to Norris point, Bill went off in the dinghy to try his luck jigging - and came back with his limit of 5 - and we had fish tacos for supper last night. We left the marina in Cornerbrook on Thursday, stocked up with groceries, and headed for Woods Island, one of the few places in Bay of Islands that has a well protected harbour. The yacht club has put floating wharves in there, so we tied up and went to explore. The island was lovely and we saw all kinds of incredible wild flowers and huge mushrooms, as well as a bunch of cabins. Woods Island was once the biggest community in the bay, but was re-settled in the 50's, which meant all the permanent residents moved off the island, so only cabins are left. One of them, across the bay, was blown over in a storm, and is now upside down, sitting on its roof! We met some of the locals and learned some history of the island, which has a moose population of about 30 (we saw lots of tracks on the trails), and did have one permanent resident up until this winter, when he and a couple of his goats died. Because of the weather, we spent two nights at Woods Island, so on Friday we took a big walk down to the other end of the island on the 'road', which is used by 'quads' - the only mode of transportation here (other than the dories which people use to get here). We had some great views of the bay and saw lots of the island. That evening a couple of other pleasure boats arrived so we chatted with them to get some local knowledge about where to go. One skipper of a sailboat told us that Bay of Islands is a very challenging place to sail as the wind goes from 5 knots to 35 knots sometimes around all the big hills and long bays. There are not a lot of sheltered anchorages and the water is really deep - 150 to 600 feet. It's strange, because at home in the Northumberland Strait 40 feet is fairly deep water, but here we are starting to get nervous because it is so shallow! The weather has been quite cold - the locals say unseasonably so. One fellow who was wearing shorts on the wharf in Woods Island says he puts them on May 24th for the summer - but I noticed that evening even he had pants on. It's like fall sailing here - we are bundled up in all kinds of layers and we take them on and off as we go in and out of the wind, or the sun comes out. Saturday morning we left Woods Island to head up Middle Arm to Goose Arm to anchor for the night. We found out later, from another crew from Nova Scotia who was at Woods Island Saturday night, that we missed a kitchen party, which would have been great fun. Instead we went for a walk up the road at the head of Goose Arm and spent a quiet night at anchor there. The next day we got up at 5 a.m. to make the trip up to Bonne Bay. It was drizzling rain and there was quite a wind going out of Bay of Islands, but it was in a good direction, so we were able to sail. The coast going up to Bonne Bay was very beautiful and we had great views of Trout River and Green Gardens, which we found out later are part of Gros Morne Park. Bill and I were trying to figure out why there were a couple of red deck chairs out on a point in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere but when we got to the park we found out they have these chairs in 17 different locations throughout the park and they are encouraging people to take photos and submit them for a contest. We arrived in Bonne Bay, which is the centre for Grose Morne Park, in the early afternoon and anchored in a little harbour called Neddies Harbour, just north of Norris Point. It's one of the few places with protection from most wind directions, an important consideration with the winds around here. Ashore, we got some information about the park and some local knowledge about the trails, and went for a short hike around Burnt Point, the hill that protects Neddies Harbour. We wanted to explore the park, and our first goal was to hike Gros Morne Mountain (elevation 806 m or 2643 ft). We prepped on Sunday night and then on Monday morning we set off in the dinghy to head up towards the trail head. We didn't even get out of the harbour when we figured out it was going to be far too rough to dinghy up, so we reverted to Plan B - call the local taxi service to get a ride. Less than half an hour later, a friendly local named Derek picked us up and drove us to the trail head, and we set off on the hike at 9:30 - a bit later than planned, but still early enough to complete the 16 km 6-8 hour trail well before dark. It was a beautiful, if strenuous hike. We started up through the forest and hiked 4 km to the start of the loop on the steep part of the mountain. The first section was just over a one hour scramble up a rocky gully to the ridge at the top of the mountain. Unfortunately when we got to the peak it was clouded over, so we didn't have the great views you would have when it was clear, however the hike down the other side gave us some pretty spectacular views of 10 Mile Pond, with a beautiful lake in a hanging valley with a waterfall over the cliff. We had our lunch there and continued down the back side of the mountain until we completed the loop and went back down the trail we started on. The terrain and flora were diverse, the trail was well maintained and it was a really lovely hike. We completed it in just under 7 hours and we were all pretty tired out by the end of it. That evening we all had 'wash cloth showers' and treated ourselves to dinner out at a great little restaurant not far from the boat called Justin Thyme. The mussels were amazing and we all had seafood for our main. The weather has been key to planning our days, and has been quite unpredictable, so we have basically been coming up with a tentative plan and then adjusting as we see fit when we wake up in the morning. Tuesday we had originally thought we didn't want to do much of a hike so we could get a rest, but we all felt pretty good, so we took Romana across to Woody Point (only 3 miles) and tied up to the public wharf there for the day. We walked up to the park's Discovery Centre, where they had some interesting exhibits, and hiked the Lookout Trail, which had been recommended to us. Great views of Bonne Bay and tons of pitcher plants - which get their nutrients from bugs as opposed to the soil. We watched a film about the park when we got back and then stopped to get some groceries and rum at Pete's One Stop, which really was! I wasn't really prepared for provisioning here - it's a bit like the Bahamas in that the stores have fresh stuff when the truck comes, but as the week goes on their stock dwindles. Luckily Pete's was pretty well stocked, so we got enough essentials to get us through for a few days. Yesterday we decided to do something kind of bizarre for people staying on a boat, and we went for a boat trip! The boat trip up the fjord of Western Brook Pond is one of the iconic things to do in the park, so we decided to go for it. The Pond is no longer connected to the sea, so to get in you walk over the bog for about 40 minutes and then the boat takes you for a tour. The boats were brought in over the bog in the winter, or brought in by helicopter in pieces and then assembled on site. We called up the taxi company and our friend Derek picked us up and drove us up to Lobster Cove Head Lighthouse, which we wanted to see first. He gave us a tour of Rocky Harbour, including a drive into his yard and a stop at his brother's inn, where he showed us around. We got to the lighthouse just as a tour started, so we learned a lot about the lighthouse and the history of the area. Unfortunately we were a bit pressed for time, as we had reserved the 3 p.m. tour on the boat, so we had a quick look around the lighthouse and then hoofed it back down to Rocky Harbour (a brisk 45 minute walk) to get some lunch before Derek picked us up to drive us to Western Brook. We had lunch at the Sunset Cafe, recommended by Derek and Dave and I had delicious moose stew, while Bill and Deborah had the crab sandwiches. We all finished up with homemade carrot cake - a good feed of local homestyle cooking. The walk through the bog to the Pond was pretty, with tons of wildflowers and the cliffs of the fjord in the distance. When we got on the boat we went to the bow, which meant we stood for the entire two hour trip, but we had great views. It was quite windy, we were heading into it and the pond was very choppy, so the occasional wave splashed up and sprayed the people in the bow, but it was fresh water and after the first splash we got smart about staying out of the way. The boat was very capable, and the trip was smooth, with lots of information about the Pond and the rock formations and views of the various waterfalls. The flow through the pond is so small that it takes 15 years for the water to fully change over! And the water is so pure that they had problems measuring levels in the water tanks at the buildings because it wouldn't conduct electricity. We hiked back out from the pond and at 6 p.m. Derek picked us up and drove us back to the boat, with a stop on the coast to have a look at the 'beach' - a long mound of smooth stones piled up beside the coastline. Today it is windy and rainy. We are all down below reading, writing etc. right now. I hope to go into shore at some point and find some wifi so that I can post this blog - if you are reading it then I managed that! Hello from Newfoundland! This summer we decided to take Romana exploring the west coast of The Rock. We are five days into our cruise and we have made it to Cornerbrook - much earlier than expected. We had allowed ourselves 6 days to get to Port Aux Basques in case the weather didn't co-operate, but conditions have been great and so has our progress.
Later today our friends Bill and Deborah will arrive here to spend the next 10 days cruising with us. We hope to explore Bay of Islands, Bonne Bay (where Gros Morne is) and maybe even get up to Cow Head - north of Gros Morne. But I am getting ahead of myself. You probably want to hear about how we got here. We left Pictou on Saturday, with Jeff Davis, son of our friends Rosemary and Dave, on board as crew. Jeff was keen to get a taste of life on the boat, so he came along for a couple of days. Our initial plan was to take two days to get to Cheticamp, but after looking at the weather we decided we wanted to try to cross to Newfoundland on Monday so we took a long first day to Cheticamp. Cheticamp is a french community on the west coast of Cape Breton, on the Cabot Trail. It has access to a beautiful park and spectacular drives, but on this trip we wouldn't have time to explore the area. It was flat calm all day which meant we didn't get to sail, but we did make good time. Fifteen hours and 93 Nm later we tied up next to a fishing boat at the public wharf in Cheticamp. Unfortunately, after getting up to leave at 5 a.m. Dave and I only had enough energy left to go for a short walk before we went back to the boat to turn in, but Jeff walked up to a local pub to have a pint and hear some music. On Sunday we set of for Bay St. Lawrence. This is a small community on the bay at the northern end of Cape Breton - a great place to leave Nova Scotia for Newfoundland or the Magdalene Islands. As soon as we cleared Cheticamp harbour, Dave and Jeff put up the sails and we had a great sail up to Cape St. Lawrence (the northwest tip of Cape Breton). It was pretty well dead downwind, so we had to gybe our way up the coast, but that was okay. We had some showers for about half an hour but nothing too bad. We inched in to the public wharf (it is pretty shallow at low tide, and we had heard on the radio that the boat ahead of us - another Corbin in fact - had gone aground on the way in) and tied up to a fishing boat just after 2 p.m. At 3 p.m. Jeff's dad, Dave, arrived to pick him up and once again we were down to a crew of two. The sun came out and it was a beautiful evening. We had a chance to go for a walk to stretch our legs and enjoy the view before supper. That night we turned in before the sun went down, ready for another early morning departure. We wanted to make sure we had enough light to see the myriad of traps on the way out of the bay, as they had really long floating lines on them and we didn't want to get tangled up in one, so Monday morning we got up at 4:30 a.m. and left the wharf ten minutes later. We managed to avoid the traps and soon we were clear and watching the sun rise. At first we were headed for Port Aux Basques, but after some discussion we decided to go for Codroy instead. This was only an extra 4 miles and would save us about 30 miles, 1 cape and a day sail from Port Aux Basques to Codroy. At first the seas were really rolly and it was a bit of an uncomfortable trip. Despite the fact that there was no wind, the swell was short and the boat was rocking around all over the place. Once we got away from Cape Breton the seas calmed down a lot and we even got enough wind to get the jib out for a while to steady us. We passed St. Paul Island, where I saw a couple of fishing boats, and then it was just us as we motored across the Cabot Strait towards Newfoundland. We saw two freighters and a lot of seabirds and that was about it. Finally we began to see the high cliffs of Newfoundland in the distance. As we got closer, I saw something white. At first I thought it was a house, but then I realized it was a patch of snow up on the table mountain! Soon we saw more patches of snow. We arrived in Codroy just after 4 p.m. (closer to 5 p.m. local time after we added the half hour) and tied up to the public wharf behind a big fishing boat. We went for a walk up the road to explore a bit, but found out later that 'town' was the other way, towards the church on the hill. A couple of locals came down for a chat, and then the very friendly harbour master, Lucy, arrived to collect our wharf fee. She told Dave that if he ever wanted to come snowmobiling he should just look her up - because "you can go for miles and miles and days and days on the land here". We found out that they fish lobster out of dories about 18 to 20 feet long with 40-50 hp outboard engines on them. The season just ended here but they will fish some halibut and then later in the season some mackeral. Codroy is a snug little harbour behind an island just north of Cape Ray on the southwestern tip of Newfoundland. Harbours on the west coast of Newfoundland are far apart, so it is a welcome stop between Port Aux Basques and Stephenville, which would be a very long day. Now that we had arrived in Newfoundland much earlier than expected, our plan was to get to Cornerbrook by Wednesday, to meet Bill and Deborah there. To do that, we had to cover a long stretch of coast with very little in the way of harbours or anchorages. We set off on Tuesday morning just after 5 a.m. (which still felt like 4:30 to us) heading for a small harbour near the tip of Long Point, which is a really long point that sticks up at the northern end of the Port Au Port Peninsula. From Cape Anguille, just north of Codroy, we crossed St. George's Bay (which goes in to Stephenville) to Cape St. George on the southern end of the Port Au Port Peninsula. It's a long 35 miles across the bay, but by noon we were across. It was another calm, sunny day, but cool enough when we weren't under the dodger. As we followed the coast of the peninsula, we got some wind and we motor sailed for a couple of hours before the wind died again. Again, based on the weather, we decided to stretch our day a bit and head twenty miles beyond Long Point, to a small harbour called Little Port, located just south of the entrance to Bay of Islands, which we would enter to go to Cornerbrook. After the wind died the seas calmed down a lot and it was a beautiful evening as we approached the coast. We arrived at the entrance to Little Port at 8 p.m. with an hour and a half to spare til sunset (and over two hours til dark). As we were getting the lines and fenders ready to tie to the wharf, the engine quit and it wouldn't start again. Luckily there was no wind, and we were drifting towards the wharf, so we managed to get our bow line to a couple of locals and we tied alongside with no drama. Dave suspected it was a dirty fuel filter, so once we were tied up he changed that and it fixed the problem. Little Port is a beautiful harbour, with dramatic cliffs on either side and colourful dories pulled up on the wooden ramps at the head of the harbour. We went for a walk up the road and down the road to the next bay over, called Bottle Bay, to stretch our legs after a 15 hour, 94 Nm day at sea. Newfoundland is breathtakingly beautiful, and you can certainly see why they call it The Rock. Because we didn't have far to go this morning, we didn't leave until almost 8 a.m. It was sunny and flat calm again until we rounded the cape into Bay of Islands, when a breeze picked up - on the nose of course! We motored up into Bay of Islands and up the Humber Arm, admiring the hills and islands all around us. A couple of small whales (pilot or Minke) came to greet us and we saw a motor cruiser heading out of the harbour with a group wearing tank tops while I was in my toque! Shortly after noon we tied up at the Bay of Islands Yacht Club marina, just outside Cornerbrook. Here we will wait for our friends to arrive and after covering 318 Nm in the first 5 days to get here, we will slow down a bit and start to do some exploring. I don't know how often I will have access to internet, so these blogs may be somewhat sporadic, but I will do what I can to keep them coming. Last week, after 16 months in the water, we hauled Romana for the winter. It was a bit of an anti-climax as I was just getting ready to call Dave to see if the lift was immiment when he called me to say she was safely on the cradle. This is the first time we have hauled at Pictou Marina and will be leaving the mast up, so that is new territory for us. It could prove to be interesting, as Dave has already seen some birds perching on our spreaders.
Since we got home in the middle of June we have spent less time aboard than we have ever spent in a summer boating season before. When we first got home we spent time sorting things out at the house, doing some much needed maintenance and yard work and revelling in hot showers every day and all the space we had! We didn't miss living aboard for the first couple of weeks as the weather was cold, rainy and miserable and we were happy to be home. Our first cruise of the season was supposed to be to Canso for Stanfest the first weekend of July, but Hurricane Arthur thwarted our plans and the festival, which was cancelled because of the strong winds and rain. Dave took Romana to a protected anchorage nearby to ride out the hurricane and she did well, although some other boats did not, with at least one ending up on the rocks in Pictou Harbour and another one taking off through the anchorage but luckily being rescued and secured to another mooring by other boaters. The weekend after Arthur we enjoyed beautiful weather for the Pictou Lobster Carnival. We participated in the annual 'Sail Past' parade with a big crew aboard and then a couple of other boats rafted to us at our mooring in the harbour for front row seats for the fireworks. To my delight, they featured in addition to the 'regular' fireworks, fireworks from a stunt plane, which were so cool but difficult to describe. The following day we watched the same stunt plane to a daytime show before the lobster boat races, our first feed of lobster and the parade. Later in the month we managed two short cruises to our local haunts of Pictou Island and Caribou and then somehow July was gone! Visitors started arriving for middle daughter Nicki and Mike's wedding and much of August was consumed spending time with family and friends, including all of the kids and grandkids. Dave got out for a couple of day sails with some of our visitors, and did a three day single handed cruise to the east end of PEI while I was in Ontario visiting my folks at the end of August, but I didn't step foot on the boat for six weeks after the end of July. By the time I got home from Ontario I was really ready to go sailing, but Dave had agreed to go into the mill and work on the annual maintenance shutdown to help them get their boilers started up on gas, so we only managed a short overnight trip to Blackhall Gut before he was working day and night (literally - he was on night shift for four nights!). Finally at the end of September we were able to steal away for one night to Pictou Island before he went in to finish up at work. Although we didn't have a lot of time left before the boat had to come out of the water, we had hoped to take a short cruise to the east end of PEI the first week of October. The weather gods conspired against us again and the winds were blowing in totally the wrong direction, so we decided maybe we should head west instead. Making the decision at lunch one day, we packed up, got a few groceries and by shortly after 2 p.m. we were on the boat, slipping off the mooring to see how far we could get before dark. The winds were strong and we had some pretty glorious sails in the five days we were away, but with strong winds come big seas, even in the Northumberland Strait, so that made for some pretty rolly trips, especially when the wind was behind us. We stopped in Wood Islands that first night, where we had a few minutes of nail biting as our raw water engine cooling pump intake got clogged up and then cleared. The next day we sailed to Charlottetown where we spent two nights enjoying the little city life, with live music at the pub where we had dinner and then catching Anne and Gilbert: The Musical, which we both thorougly enjoyed. We had a rough motor sail across the Strait and anchored just off the coast between Cape John and Brule before heading home to Pictou on the last day after a very rolly night when the wind came up from the west in the middle of the night - we didn't have as much protection from that direction as we thought. It was a beautiful sunny day and we had a fantastic sail with the wind clocking around from the west to the northwest to the north so that we could sail all the way to our mooring. It was a perfect last sail for the season. So obviously we don't have this retirement thing figured out at all, since we should have had much more time to spend sailing than we did this summer, but I am going to chalk it up to wanting to catch up on 'the rest of our lives' after nine months away. We certainly don't regret all of the time we spent doing other things with family and friends instead of sailing. And we shouldn't really miss the boat after spending every day aboard for nine of the last sixteen months. But we seem to always feel the same when we haul the boat in the fall - gee, it doesn't seem like we got much time aboard this summer. We used to think it was because work was getting in the way, but apparently there are other things to juggle too. Lots of people have been asking us what our future plans for cruising are. Obviously we are not heading south this winter, as we just hauled the boat. We decided that we wanted to spend a winter at home this year. We also both agree that nine months at a stretch on the boat is too long for us. So, what are our options? We have lots of ideas, but nothing concrete yet. We would love to spend a few months somewhere warm on the boat in the winter, but the logistics of getting the boat there without spending a lot of time are complicated and/or costly. So right now our plan is to think about it over the winter, launch Romana next spring as usual, and see how it all goes. Enjoy your winter wherever you are - we plan to! (By the way, for anyone who is interested, I have added some more photos from this summer to the Boat Views page.) Hello from...land. After 237 days (just over 9 months), 6117 Nm, 1100 hours underway (a whopping 85% with the engine on), and 8400 photos we are back home. I am writing this final blog sitting at my kitchen table in New Glasgow. I woke up this morning at 5 a.m. with nowhere to go. I wonder how long it will take me to break the habit of waking that early? We covered the last 300 miles from Liverpool in four days and arrived in Pictou yesterday at 3:30 p.m. to find a small reception committee waiting to greet us. Last night we slept at the house and we both found it really quiet and really dark compared to the boat.
This last push reminded us that the trip is not over until it is over and we have to stay vigilant no matter where we are sailing. With a forecast for NE winds late in the week we were really trying to get around the eastern tip of Nova Scotia at Canso as quickly as we could, because we didn't want to have to stop too long anywhere to wait for weather when we were this close to home. That meant long days to make as many miles as we could, so Tuesday morning we left the dock at Liverpool just after 5 a.m. and set off for Ship Harbour. It was a very calm day as we chugged along the South Shore past LaHave, Mahone Bay, Sambro, Halifax Harbour and then started along the Eastern Shore. We had sun until we got just past Halifax Harbour and then the sky got black and threatening and we had some rain, but not for long. As we got closer to Ship Harbour it was obvious that we were going to be getting in well after dark, so Dave looked for an alternate destination and selected Owl's Head Harbour, just to the west of it and shaved about an hour off our trip. We watched the sun go down as we got closer to the harbour and Dave had just commented that they should be fishing lobster here when I saw a trap. A couple of minutes later we heard the 'thump, thump, thump' sound something hitting the hull and we looked behind us and saw we had hit a trap. Luckily we didn't wrap the line or anything, but... it was pretty well dark and now we had to contend with traps? Although it was almost a full moon it was so overcast that we weren't getting much light from that if any. I went up to the bow, dressed in my rain gear, boots, toque and gloves and stood up there watching for traps and any un-lit, un-charted buoys for 45 minutes as the rain drizzled down. Luckily it wasn't too cold. We made it in to our selected anchorage without hitting anything else and dropped the hook just after 10 p.m. tired out but happy that we had knocked off 101 Nm in just under 17 hours. The next morning we got up and trundled out just before sunrise again, this time heading for Canso - another long day. The forecast was for 15-20 knots N wind, so we were really hoping we would be able to sail quickly and get there before dark this time. We put up the main with one reef in it and Dave went down below to get some more sleep. It was a beautiful day - clear and sunny and for my first watch I motor sailed pretty much the entire time because there wasn't enough wind to sail more than about 3.5 knots (believe me, I tried). At 9 a.m. Dave took watch and I went below to try to get some sleep in the V. As the hours ticked by the wind picked up and Dave kept reefing the jib in. We kept heeling more. I could hear the odd wave crashing over the deck but I was nice and cozy in the bunk and it was pretty comfortable. When I got up to take my watch at noon I was surprised at how big the waves were. Dave made lunch and then went back to the aft cabin to try to get a rest but about fifteen minutes later I went down to ask him what he thought we should do as the wind was coming around on our nose and we were really slowed down. He came up and adjusted sails and our course a bit but it was obvious we weren't going to get to Canso at this rate, so we had to figure out Plan B. I suggested Liscombe, but we were almost past it and he didn't want to go 'back' plus it is a long way in. He decided we should go into Fisherman's Harbour, just east of Port Bickerton. By this time I was pretty well freaking out as the waves continued to crash over the bow and the wind blew stronger - gusting close to 30 knots. We were not making good progress and even though we only had to go about 12 miles to get in, a good part of it was into the wind. I went below and simply endured it while Dave stayed in the cockpit, ducking the waves that blew in there, adjusting the jib and our course to try to keep us moving and eventually starting the engine and furling the jib when we couldn't sail anymore. Meanwhile, chaos down below. Water from the continuous onslaught of waves was dripping from two separate leaks I had never seen before, so I had to move cushions away from the drips to keep the saltwater off them, the door of one of the lockers in the aft head flew open and stuff flew out of the locker, resulting in a hand mirror busting into shards on the floor of our cabin and I could hear things bouncing around in the cupboards. It was one of the roughest days (both literally and figuratively) of the entire trip. We finally got within a couple of miles of shore and the waves calmed down a bit, but we were heading straight into the wind and they were still crashing over the deck right up until we were only about a half mile out. Once we were in the lee and it was calm enough we took the main down and then got anchored just before 6 p.m. We were both extremely relieved to be out of the seas and safely anchored and as soon as we got the glass cleaned up we celebrated with a drink - it was a very happy happy hour indeed. When Dave looked at the weather forecast later that evening he commented "Oh, now they tell me it's going to be 25 knots". The bottom line is that Romana really doesn't beat well and the wind was a bit too much on the nose for where we wanted to go. Unfortunately our 'plan B' destination was even more into the wind, which is why it took us so long to get there. While we were having our drink we spotted another sailboat anchoring and once they were settled Dave called them on the radio. He found out that they were the same boat we spotted earlier in the day coming out of Ship Harbour when we left Owl's Head Bay. They were from BC and had been through the Panama and were heading up to Newfoundland to cross to Scotland via Greenland and Iceland. They had planned to do an overnight to St. Peter's but given the conditions they decided to pack it in and anchor, which made us feel like maybe we weren't such wimps after all. Despite the rough day we still managed to make 66 miles, so Canso was now within easy reach. Thursday we got up early again and set off. We hadn't decided if we were going to stop in Canso or keep going, but we thought we would wait and see what the weather brought. It was only 3 deg C in the cockpit when we got up and the cabin was only 11 deg C. I think Romana is coming into equilibrium with the surrounding water which was 9.4 deg C! Although it was cold, it was sunny and the winds were light, so we motored along the coast heading for Canso. As much as I love the sun sparkling off the water in the mornings it makes it tough to see the lobster traps when you are heading straight into it, so I was glad when it was finally higher in the sky. One thing about looking for traps is that you see lots of other stuff - some garbage and debris, but also lots of interesting birds and inquisitive seals. We went in through the St. Andrews Passage, which runs between a bunch of small rocky islands just south of Canso. It is a lovely passage but it was chock a block full of lobster traps with 50 to 100 feet of FLOATING line on them. Needless to say it was a tense hour navigating through there and into Canso. We approached Canso just before 1 p.m. and decided to keep going so we set off across Chedabucto Bay to the Straits of Canso. The wind came up, but it was behind us, giving us a nice push over when we unfurled the jib and motor sailed. Shortly after 5 p.m. we were through the Canso lock and into the Northumberland Strait - our home waters! We anchored for the night in Havre Boucher a few miles northwest of the lock, calling it a day after a paltry 73 mile day (but it seemed long enough). From there it was about 60 miles to Pictou. When I went to bed I could hardly sleep - it was almost like Christmas Eve, anticipating getting home the next day. When we got up on Friday morning the sky was an amazing orange red colour - a beautiful sunrise for the last day of our trip. We chugged out of the harbour and headed for Cape George, about 20 miles away. The forecast was for SE winds so we thought we were going to have a great sail home. After an hour the wind came up just enough to unfurl the jib to give us a push but soon it died and we had to furl it again. As we came around Cape George and headed for Pictou the current was against us and the wind came up in our face, but luckily it was light enough that we could still make decent headway and the waves were small. We never did get to sail. We took turns on watch and packing some things up to take home with us and as we travelled towards Pictou it felt good to be back in familiar waters. It's pretty amazing how familiar a coast can feel but as we got closer and closer it felt more and more like home. We spotted Pictou Island from a distance and we saw the ferry coming to Caribou from PEI. We got to the fairway buoy around 3 p.m. and by 3:30 we had spotted the stick on our mooring. Dave got in the dinghy and rowed over to rig up a pickup line and buoy and soon Romana was securely moored. Our friends Al and Alta and Cathy and Annie were waiting on the wharf for us, so we loaded up the dinghy and headed into shore. And that was the end of our adventure. When we got home and got ready to go out for supper I went to the closet to look for something to wear and it was like I had a whole new wardrobe to choose from. There were my favourite boots, and tons of big dangly earrings and my leather jacket. These things that you don't consciously miss, but nevertheless you are delighted to see again. I went to get myself a glass of water and for a moment I had to think hard about which cupboard to open. The house looks in great shape and our house sitter Lisa seems happy with her stay here so that worked out well. It's good to be home. We had a great trip and we have come home with all kinds of ideas for future cruises but for now we are going to enjoy being home for the summer, fall and winter. We don't plan to travel far on the boat this summer, although our first big cruise of the season will be back to Canso for Stanfest the first weekend of July. We might also just go out for a sail every once in a while - no destination, no deadline, just a sail. I think we are going to enjoy not having the constraints of work to force us into only sailing on weekends and going when the weather is good instead, but we have lots to do around the house and we will be enjoying visits from all the kids and grandkids so Romana may get lonely at times without us. Thanks for coming along for the ride. I hope you have enjoyed the trip. |
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August 2015
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