Sea smoke and south..

The time had come to leave Mahone and friends as a promised favourable wind sort of arrived. We set off on an evening tide but made slow progress despite the NE wind. As ever we hoped to get far but had to settle for wherever we could, a useful approach to cruising we find. In this case we thought we might make it to Barrington Harbour but the winds began to drop as we passed Ingomar Hbr. Both of these spots are close to where the currents pick up as they approach/leave Cape Sable and timing is important. We pulled into Ingomar and anchored for the night. The following day the wind blew out of the south and southwest and we remained where we were. A surprise visit by fishing boat from Forbes and Yola, friends from Shelburne, caught us unawares and it also gave us useful local info that the water continued to be deep for another 200 yards allowing us to move further over, away from the channel and into better protection. The following day we were disconcerted to hear a radio message for an "anchored yacht" As the radio had been turned down we'd missed most of it so turned it up and waited. The voice came back and was calling "the yacht anchored off Ingomar Habour with a British Flag" Turned out to be Canadian Customs and Border checking on us, Last Port, Next Port, CANPAS number etc. We can only imagine they must have been on shore with pretty powerful binos to spot our flag! We headed out the following morning but found ourselves entangled on an abandoned mooring anchor and spent several frustrating minutes rigging up a tackle to take the weight whilst Bee hung off the bobstay and unwrapped our chain from the shank of the thing. Eventually we were free and able to head off. We motored most of the way to Barrington a 20 mile trip. Although it is 9 miles up the bay it is an ideal spot to make the most of the currents and we were looking forward to checking it out. Approaching the last of the channel markers we were a tad alarmed at the number of buoys that lined the channel beyond the official ones...could they be oyster lines or some huge fish net..?? We crept forward slowly with Bee stood on the bowsprit watching for nets. But nothing appeared and we made our way slowly forward. The anchorage is alongside a causeway and it seems as though we were a boat length from it before the anchorage opened up. Plenty of depth (20') and several boats already on moorings. Hardly surprising as the place looks fairly bomb-proof. We dropped anchor, more to one side than we should have, but with little wind and no fetch we were safe. The fishing boat that was on a buoy, cast off and motored toward us. No, we weren't in the way, very little traffic in and out and we should stay where we were. We asked about the buoys that had caused us problems....seems they were race marks that had been left there after being gathered in from a local regatta and the boat was off to bring them in....
The following morning we were up and away for the leg to Belfast. Winds were forecast as easterly but the morning began light as we motored south past Cripple Creek (no ferry in sight though....Neil Young...) Nevertheless with the wind and current we had we managed to get 25 miles away from the coast before the tide turned although the motion, for the most part, was as unpleasant as it gets short of a gale. As ever, the winds died at night though not entirely but certainly enough to remove any hopes of a fast passage. 50 miles from the US coast we were reminded, yet again, that it may make more sense to leave NS at night and then perhaps we'd arrive in Maine in daylight. As it was we saw the islands, Mount Desert, Isle a Haut but by the time we closed it was getting dark. And cold. We sailed on, wincing each time Hannah clattered a lobster pot. We winced a lot.....As the evening wore on the wind backed, eased and speed dropped. By now we're beating and it is down to 2 knots. We fired up the engine and Bee stood on the bow with a small torch checking for pots whilst I was poised to wrench the lever into neutral. By now it is very cold but progress was being made into a headwind. When the course freed us we sailed and then up the east side of Isleboro, we beat for a while with a favourable current. With 4 miles still to go to round the island , speed down to under 2 knots and the wind easing the current turned against us and each leg sailed gained us diddly squat it seemed and so we reverted to the engine and a frozen lookout. Passing Isleboro freed us and we sailed the last 10 miles toward the town we regard as home.

Early morning and sea-smoke rises

 But not to stay We seem to have been cold for the last 18 months and whilst in Greenland we thought it might be a change to spend a little time further south where sunshine and rum are plentiful.....

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!!

Zen and the art of kerosene cookers...

Well we made it. Not a journey or a storm but 6 days of living on crisps(chips) and wine as we struggled to make sense of the cookers refusal to work.

Looks like crisps again!

 We stripped burners, replaced parts, changed fuel, cleaned out the fuel tank, reamed out burners and blew through pipes. One day it worked and then the following day wouldn't. In despair I refused to even look at it and that evening it worked but then failed yet again. We wrote to the manufacturer's, Taylor's, Annie Hill and anyone else we knew used them. All but Taylor's replied with various suggestions. On the day the cooker worked Bee cooked a meal and a loaf of bread and that evening we headed off from our friends Steve and Marilyn for Cape Breton with a promising forecast which, like the cooker, failed that evening and 18 hours and 50 miles later we slipped into Halifax to see what we could do. As we'd arrived in daylight we used the remainder of the day to re-do everything we had done before and the care with which we reassembled the thing meant we were bound to be successful. ...and were this a Hollywood movie we would have been. But it ain't and we weren't and we were left wondering how much further we would be able to go on this trip. Bizarrely we found the pump handle mysteriously rising by itself and, as Annie had said about a valve located in the tank somewhere, the following morning I turned to Nigel Calder's BoatOwners Manual and read through the section on kero cookers. Well the combination of Bee spotting the pump handle, Annie's prompt and Calder's writing had me looking at the valve on the pump, replacing it and the cooker came to life. And then died again. But a couple of sharp wraps with a blunt instrument soon cleared the carbon and a flame roared into life! Bee who had gone ashore by kayak returned to find the bread she had kneaded yesterday baking on the cooker. Such a feeling of relief but whilst we may well continue with the cooker, despite my harsh words, were still going down the back up road of a stand alone kero cooker.

That afternoon we left Halifax for a fast sail to St Peter's Canal. The forecast was good but...ah why do we do it? Why do we lay such store on what someone tells us the weather is going to be when our own experience tells us that somehow between the words leaving the forecasters mouth and reaching the listeners ears it all goes pear-shaped? True we left with a good wind but as the evening arrived the wind died.

The forecasted 15-20 knot winds struggled to get above 5 knots, it was slow but the first night out we managed to keep the self-steerer to keep us moving. The second day proved a slow one too and the second night the wind almost disappeared completely. The current had been against us the whole way, frequently above 1 knot, so we were covering perhaps 9 miles in 4 hours... That night we lit the cooker to get some heat into the boat after I had screwed up setting the clock for my watch and slept for 90 minutes leaving Bee to steer in the cold. She needed a hot water bottle and a strong coffee to get  her warm again. Oddly enough she didn't take to my rum laced coffee.

By daylight we had a little more wind and slowly we crept along the southern coastline of Nova Scotia, round Canso and up toward Cape Breton. As we cleared the last headland the wind shifted to the north and we had a 6 mile beat to finish. The beat was probably the most enjoyable part of the trip, bright sunshine, sparkling water and interesting water to get through. A converted fishing boat passed us heading in toward the canal and we met them when we eventually made it in. But not before we were both forced to strip off our thermal union suits and multi-layered tops to t-shirts and shorts as the temperature rose dramatically. Boy was it warm! The little beach that sits outside the canal had families bathing and everyone seemed cheerful....seems the previous 37 days had been rainy or foggy and cold.

Through the canal and we tied up at the far end, opposite Jack and Glenda's house and responded happily to their shout of "come over for a cold beer"

Toots loves this stop-over with it's nearby long grass and reed beds and few cars to bother her. When we returned several  hours later from our visit she was, unusually, no where to be seen and didn't respond to shouts and whistles for sometime but strolled out from wherever she'd been to peer expectantly at her food bowl.

We'd spent a little of our time up at Steve and Marilyn's helping out in the garden. That is Bee helped out and I'd write up the blog.

Me and Steve gardening....

After 30 years of living aboard their boat they've bought this little place and are coming to terms with novelty of land based living. They can't get used to having a freezer or getting dirty and being able to take a shower. But the bit they really love is not having to walk down a jetty burdened  with groceries, arms aching and then having to load it all into the dinghy and get out to the boat and then get it out of the dinghy and onto the boat. Frequently in the rain. I sometimes find myself in a house stood at the kitchen sink, my right foot tapping up and down. Not in response to some silent tune playing through my head but because the Pavlovian reaction to wanting water to come out of the tap is to pump it with a foot pump.

And this is just because we saw it and thought ?

Yup that's a scooter on the back of that boat..