Money on ground tackle...

We woke to the sound of the anchor alarm going off. Not, in this instance, a warning we had dragged but letting us know we'd stretched out and possibly veered from our original position. That was at 5am yesterday morning, Wed 7th, some 32 hours ago and the storm has raged since. The first 24 hours were fine but as  the wind continued the seas followed suit and built up. The fetch inside was small but the entrance, barely visible, had white water everywhere. The sound of seas breaking on the northern side of the island, at times, drowned out the wind. By the late afternoon the wind had backed from NE to NNW which gave us a little more room astern but also created a confused sea tendency within the anchorage. The wind continued howling. The local radio informed us that the gusts on Martha's Vineyard, less than 10 miles away, had been clocked at 61mph and all local ferry traffic was suspended.   The NOAA site informed us that some 30 miles to the west of us the weather/navigation  buoy recorded 52 knots...whatever it was probably the longest period of foul weather we had at anchor since the week we sat in Newtown Creek, IOW as day after day the English Channel struggled under a Force 11. And we knew it was bad outside when the anchorage gradually saw more and more gulls "at anchor"; resting quietly until their lives might improve.

By the morning of Sat Nov 9th our life had improved beyond measure. For a start the wind had died down and the anchorage was flat calm. But the rain and gloom of the last few days had been replaced with a glorious sunshine. The natural harbour is part of a succession of islands that were, or may still be, owned by the Forbes family apparently. A couple of very large houses could be seen, sheep and a llama were the only real activity. A ferry runs between the harbour and Woods Hole, a  fishing boat came in prior to the storm but other than that we had had the place to ourselves. With a single day of northerlies left we opted to visit Vineyard Haven on Martha's, catch up with friends and await the next batch of favourable winds due in 3 days. Getting the wonderful Rocna anchor up gave us a struggle; convincing me at one point that we must be foul on something. Bee, who handles all the fore deck work, disagreed saying it felt different to a foul..... We secured the chain to protect the windless and tried to motor it out with little impact. Bee wanted more power so that's what we did and although the bow dipped ( in respect to the might of the anchor perhaps) it did break free. Thick, gloopy mud clung to the chain as we laboriously hurled buckets of sea-water over it. Eventually we were able to see the anchor  rising to the surface with a large amount of glutinous mud attached. We had, briefly, thought about setting two anchors in tandem as the anchorage was tight. However as we had anchored once already and then decided to shift position we knew the mud was good and simply added a second line to back up our existing rode using  two rolling hitches to secure it to the chain.We bought this 33kg (73lb) Rocna back in 2006 and have never regretted it. At the time they were new to the market but its design and holding power means we are able to sleep easy at night. Anchors may not have the same sex appeal as all singing all dancing chart plotters and water makers but, to us, they are far more important.  Everything back on board and stowed we motored clear, raised the main and stays'l and set off with a favourable current through the narrows at Woods Hole toward Vineyard Haven. The wind blew gently, the sun shone, sea sparkled and all was well in our world. Next stop, we hope, will be several hundred miles south of here.

Another storm arriving...

The anchorage is quiet; stars glitter across a dark, but not ominous sky and once again we await the arrival of a major storm. We were hoping to use the northerlies coming off an upcoming front to get south but it became obvious as we prepared to leave Belfast that this was going to be one to hide away from.

With final, final farewells and the third and final pie from Mary T, we headed out from Belfast with a good northerly breeze to see us on our way. We had hopes of making a non stop crossing of the Gulf of Maine rather than the usual stop start that has plagued us in the past. And so it proved to be with good speeds across a lumpy sea. Bee and Toots felt decidedly unwell from the motion as we ploughed on, dropping a second reef into the main to help balance the course and motion. The night was cold, very cold but we crossed and got to within 5 miles of the canal entrance at Cape Cod before the wind eased and speeds dropped below 3 knots. Not a speed we would ordinarily consider motoring but we needed to make sure we were through the canal before the tide turned and with less than 4 hours left to do so we needed to get on. 30 hours after leaving the dock we entered the canal and our speed began to pick up.

Railway Bridge, Cape Cod Canal

Still with the main up we slipped through the water at 8 knots and as the sun began to set through the arches of the railway bridge we knew the last section would be in the dark and cold. Our original plan had been to keep going to Cape May but the speed with which the front was moving plus the distance still to go suggested we should anchor for the night. Pocasset Harbour is pretty small but the bay outside has good holding and shelter from northerlies and we dropped anchor tired but content.

Monday saw a flurry of emails as we sought advice from friends about anchorages in the Buzzards Bay area. Our thought was either Block Island or Hadley Hbr, both of which we used in the past. In the end we chose Hadley and all the advice seemed in agreement. A short hop from where we were and we approached the tight entrance about 3 hours later managing to sail, impressively we thought though no spectators on such a cold day, through the narrow entrance and into the anchorage. We motored into the inner hbr but found plenty of local boats still on buoys so came back out to anchor south of Bull Island. The forecast is for NE 25-35knots with gusts of 55 on Wednesday, Thurs having similar strength winds.

As I write this the wind can be heard beginning to pick up...could this be the start?

Post Sandy

The day after we arrived in Smiths Cove we decided we'd move closer to the shore. The anchorage was deserted but with the week.end upon us we expected boats to start arriving. As we dallied we saw at least 3 boats, albeit without masts, approaching. They came past us, waved and continued on to a set of mooring buoys close to the shore. Once they were finished the handlers came by us in a tender to have a quick chat. One of them, Ken Eaton, turned out to be the owner of a local boatyard and suggested we might take up a very heavy mooring that was vacant. All the gear, he assured us, had been inspected recently and we would have no problem. Normally we're lary about using moorings but with this assurance and the fact that they were much closer to the shore and trees than we could safely manage under anchor persuaded us. So safely connected we made storm preparations; removing the stays'l, lashing down the main and mizzen to stop gusts loosening the sail. The next few days passed and we watched the few boats come in, recognising several from Belfast. In the event the storm really didn't account to much. Some gusts - the strongest just 39 knots an anchored boat recorded but with such good tree protection there was no fetch and whilst sleep wasn't that easy to succomb to at least it wasn't a terrifying experience. Ken, on his first sortie by us, had told us that there would be a sack of wood waiting for us on the dock and when we motored across to Castine town dock there was. Hours later a local couple had confirmed with the harbourmaster that we could stay on the dock for the night and another local came to tell us he had a further two bags of wood we were welcome to. The offer of the night on the dock was extended to a Dutch boat with two young children aboard; they were over the moon as it was Halloween and they would be able to join in the festivities. Welcome to Castine!

Whilst we'd been waiting for Sandy to arrive we'd been in contact with David and Susan who'd left Belfast a few days before we'd moved across the bay. They ended up in Oyster Bay at the western end of Long Island so very close to the mayhem that was about to occur. In the end they dragged, spent 5 hours motoring into the wind (holding their position), blew out isinglass panes in their sprayhood but survived the 62 knot gusts.

Thursday morning arrived and Bee with that familiar look of bargain hunting that crosses her face went immediately onto the internet before coffee was poured. Seems Job Lot, a store in Belfast, post their bargains on a Thursday.....The list scanned and checked it was declared that at least 4 items were staples for us and had been reduced significantly and our destination was decided. After chatting to various locals we cast off to follow another Belfast bound boat back. Little Bear, the other boat, was being single-handed so motored whilst we had a glorious sail back under all canvas. True the sun didn't shine but with few lobster pots and the bay to ourselves it was a wonderful few hours.

The much awaited northerlies are here, bringing their cold winds but as the south beckons we can put up with them for the next few weeks/months. With luck we'll get down to Cape May avoiding the Cape Cod Canal but that always remains an option.

Crocs Away...or how a pension saved my arse

Cow Head proved to be a good choice as we were able to move from one side of the harbour to the other to obtain better protection from the wind. Though not from the company of minks which were everywhere. Having been regularly fed by the local fishermen they seemed to have little fear of humans (or cats) and wandered quite close to the boat. Toots attempts at harassment were met with disdain and they would simply duck into a small hole out of her way.

With Leslie raging on the other side of the island we had some wind but mostly rain and, with the wind, easing and backing we decided to head out the following day. It may have been a mistake as the winds were fitful and the seas still a little confused. By 2am the following day they had died and we drifted slowly northwards on the current losing about 4 miles before they returned and we were able to sail on down to Neddy Harbour in Bonne Bay. 17 hours for a 30 mile journey....not our finest performance!  We stayed for a few days, meeting with friends and awaiting a favourable wind. The weather looked set to remain out of the SW but a small window gave us  a day of south winds followed by a day of west winds and we headed out. I don't think we have EVER left or arrived from Neddy without a windless struggle and that night proved no exception. This time we lost well over 6 miles before the winds came in and we began the trip south proper. Initially the winds came and went but before long we were heading slightly south of east toward Anticosti Island, a hundred or more miles away. As the winds increased so did the seas and with a beam  wind we inevitably had seas come aboard. About 30 miles from the island we had a welcome wind shift from S to SE and were able to work our way south off the long bank that extends eastwards and as the wind shifted to the west were well placed to head down to, and clear, Cape North at the end of Cape Breton. Big, lumpy seas built up and broke over us as speeds increased. At one point the log said 8.6k whilst the SOG registered 9.4k with the help of a friendly current and 33knots of wind. Onwards under a double reefed main, stays'l and our miniscule spitfire jib we ran. Once under the shelter of the land the seas eased dramatically but so did the wind and progress became slower. Too slow really as we'd hoped, for once, to get to the "Narrows", the entrance into the Lakes with a favourable wind.

In the end we ran the engine to try and get there before the worst of the outgoing tide but might have well have saved ourselves the fuel. The wind meant we could keep sailing albeit hard on the wind as we came down the channel. But even with the engine running, the crew willing her on each time the rigging creaked to a welcome gust and Hannah heeling steeply from them, progress was slow.

Whilst the log said we were motor-sailing at 7 knots the speed was much less. Gradually speed declined from 6 knots to 4 and less. At one point we were down to 0.4knots as we approached the narrowest part but only for a minute or so and then we were through and approaching Kelly Cove for the night and a stiff drink or two.

Tues 18th Sept. On a bright, sunny cloudless day we began a long beat down the Bras D'Or channel toward our next anchorage. It was a wonderful sailing day although a little early for an entirely favourable tide. The first challenge was Seal Island bridge with its rips and currents. Our tacks took us right up to it and as we beat across the channel at 5 knots we were obviously going sideways as well as forwards and thus crabbed through the bridge and out the other side accompanied by a cacophony of truck horns from the passing traffic. In the far distance we could make out a yacht heading our way and an hour so later met up with George from Big Harbour and where we decided to anchor for the night. 42 tacks after starting we pulled into the anchorage and stopped.

Days later on a day of constant and heavy rain we hauled the anchor up and headed south. The forecasted SE was in fact NE and couldn't be wasted. Unfortunately the fog was thick and not much could be seen. With 3 miles to go we called the bridge keeper to warn him of our approach.....the wind is astern of us and we've got the full main up so the speed is never less than 6 knots and often higher. We call him again with 3/4 mile to go and he assures us he'll have it open......with 1/2 mile to go the barriers start to drop and as the bascule complete their opening we roar through the bridge under full main to the obvious delight of the bridge- keeper - all smiles and thumbs up as he lent well out of his watch window. Exhilarating for sure although we'd run the engine just in case the current which swirls about inside the narrow gap decided, as it did the first time we ever went through some years ago, that it would prefer if we were closer, much closer to one side than was deemed safe by the nervous nellies that count as Hannah's crew. The wind dropped steadily as we sailed further south and we opted to spend the night or two in Georges Harbour.

Onwards to the Canal, a brief visit with Jack and Glenda before motoring through the 1/2 mile or so to the other side from where we left on Tues 25th Sept. for Glasgow Harbour some 20 odd miles away. Good sail tho a tad nippy saw us entering the channel for another couple of nights rest whilst we awaited a fair wind to take us along the Nova Scotia coastline. The harbour, whilst open to the east gives good protection from the winds we were having and the only sound was that of dozens of seals "barking".....well we think they were the ones making the racket. A brief, silent, visit from a local fishing boat was our only entertainment. The other advantage of the harbour is the close proximity of Andrews Passage, a narrow channel that lets you cut out a dog leg around the headland and, to some extent, much of the rough water that can be found off Cape Canso. We motored through the channel in smooth water opting to leave the sails until we'd reached a more open space. A wise choice in the end as at the moment we decided to raise the main and Bee was about to start hauling lines the wind blasted across the sea and went from 10-15 knots to something around 30.......we changed our minds and raised the stays'l, mizzen and the working jib and took off across the bay at 6 knots plus.....and settled down for what we hoped would be a quick passage. A few hours later the wind began to  ease and though we stayed under the same rig we knew we were going to have to change to the main to keep the boat moving well. Luckily the seas had dropped considerably and were now less than a metre. The wind was on the beam and we decided to get the main up. All went well until Bee tried to raise the boom off the gallows and found the main-sheet had jammed in the block allowing the main to clear the doghouse by a few inches only. As the boat rolled in the swell the boom, now free of the gallows, was able to swing back and forth although its travel was curtailed by the main=sheet still firmly cleated down. Normally I work from aft of the boom as being alongside the aft end is a dangerous business (booms are not called "widow-makers for no reason...) but this time I was alongside and simply fended off the gently swinging boom with one hand as I uncleated the sheet. The boom, now free of its restraint promptly increased its arc of swing from 30 cms to well over a metre and fending off became instantly harder and more dangerous. As it came back at me for the second time with increased force I moved aft to escape it, fending off with one hand and ducking to escape the worst of its intentions....and found myself falling. As luck would have it I was between the mizzen shrouds and was knocked backwards and through them. I remember thinking " Shit I could end up getting wet here" before I realised I was not only wet but upside down and under water, dressed in heavy clothing.......... Hannah was under the control of our self-steerer and whilst our speed was a sedentary 3.5 knots it still meant we were moving through the water at almost 2 metres or 6' per second.......
As I popped to the surface I realised with relief I still had the mainsheet clutched in my right hand and I'd broken the surface alongside rather astern of a, to a dumped sailor, rapidly disappearing boat. Of even greater comfort was the presence of Bee leaning over the capping rail, quietly encouraging me and, seemingly, calmly wrapping an additional line around me to stop me drifting away from the boat. Luckily the water was warmish but even so I could feel the desperateness of the situation. Hannah does not have a huge freeboard, that distance between the sea and the deck or capping rail in our case. But in water logged clothing climbing out was going to be a problem and I could feel mentally I was already beginning to think "hmmmm...I'm not sure I can do this." Bee, of course, was having none of it and with her help I was able to get my left leg high enough for her to grab the oilskins and heave. With a struggle I came back on board, perhaps a few minutes after I'd been dumped in. We were both shaken by the whole thing and knew that the outcome could have been so different. Had the seas been higher, colder, the winds stronger, Bee not on deck etc... I wouldn't be the first or last sailor to be lost overboard under similar circumstances and it has made us realise we need to close that gap between the shrouds before we do much else. Bee made light of it; telling me that with my pension due next year there was no way she was letting me out of her sight.....Unfortunately out of my sight were the size 11 pink Crocs I was wearing as they floated away in the struggle...so I'm now down to 3 pairs of the same...

Some hours later we got the main up and made our way toward Halifax. We'd hoped to clear the shipping lanes in daylight but the failing wind also began to head us and we began a slow beat to the west. Although the lanes were busy both before and after we crossed them the hour or two we spent crossing was quiet. We listened to a ship getting clearance to leave. It was Sept 28 and its next port of call was somewhere in Italy at 00:00 7 October!! As we watched it pass some 5 mile to the south of us at 20.2 knots we understood how it could be well into the Med in 9 days.

30th Sept. In Prince's Inlet on a buoy belonging to John and Phyliss of Morgans Cloud. (see site) They run an interesting website that has a wealth of info, sound advice and some excellent photo's. The weather when we arrived yesterday, like today, seems to be verging on torrential rain and the winds are either foul or light so well be in Mahone Bay for a while it seems. We had hoped to get here early enough to see the launch of the new "Bluenose", Nova Scotia's famed schooner but not to be. Our arrival not the launch which we understand went ahead in fine style without us.

As an aside: I can't remember where we were but I'd been off watch and sleeping but became aware that our motion had a more than normal tilt to it. I came up on deck to find Bee filming a charging Hannah as under full main we were thundering along with the rail under water! That is NOT a position I like to be in but Bee had found the whole thing exhilarating and in truth something the boat seems to revel in. Certainly cleaned the decks although I rapidly had order restored and a reef stuck in sharpish! Bloomin' youngsters!!