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.
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.