North and South......or nobody can hear you scream in Labrador......

We moved on from Punchbowl intent on getting up the coast to Curlew or Grady. I'd been lucky enough to view Nomads (one of the other boats at PB) track through Pond Inlet and used that to plot our way through this shortcut. Sometimes the wind was good with the, seemingly, ever present fog drifting in patches around us. But frequently the sun shone and we anchored once more in Grady Harbour; a tickle between two small islands. Despite being open at both ends it presents reasonable shelter and we once sat out a stiff NW wind here in comfort. Walkabout (Russ & Alison) came in an hour or so later having left several hours after us. The following day we left before them for Holten Hbr and enjoyed the best days sail for many months. The sun shone, the bergs sparkled and the miles were knocked off. Toward the end with Walkabout catching us the wind picked up and up. With only a few miles to go we left the main unreefed as the gust hit 36knots and our speed topped 8 knots...........unprecedented! Of course we needed to get the thing down but achieved with no issues and both boats anchored happily in good sand and shelter. R&A left early the next morning to motor north as strong NE's were forecast and the anchorage offered no real protection. We opted to hold on and see if there was any change but an increase in the wind persuaded us to leave and sail north..... aagh why are we so gullible? The wind lasted long enough for us to clear the harbour by a few miles before switching off. The fog became thicker and was soon joined by rain. Two things happened that improved our day: we remembered we'd cut up a tarp to use as a shelter and draped it over the mizzen boom to allow whoever was steering to shelter and found it worked well. Perhaps more importantly Bee discovered that socks and wellies do make a HUGE difference to comfort and went around grinning as she luxuriated in warm feet. I should say that although we have had boots and socks on board for years we rarely use them and have just put up with bare feet in Crocs, occasionally resorting to socks when things became extreme. No more. So in our semi-dry and warm state we plugged on; alternating half hour on, half hour off steering and finally made it to Cape Harrison. As we rounded it and made our way toward Webeck Hbr I noticed a whale lying on the surface close in but Bee thought it might be a log. Both wrong as it happened; it was a RIB that had drifted from somewhere. We motored over to check it out and make sure nobody was aboard. It looked new although partially deflated and we toyed with the idea of towing it (a lot of water was inside it) but in the end decided to leave it be. With a blow coming in we wanted to get secure and battened down without having to worry about a dinghy we didn't need. Into Webeck, anchoring well into a small bight on the northern shore and settled down. The fog drifted, growlers wandered though on the other side of the harbour and all was well. It did blow although we had no real idea until we tried to leave the following day and found the seas heaping up outside the entrance and went back to anchor. A day later is a different scene and we sailed off toward Manak enjoying the chance to sail for most of the day. On the off chance we called R&A as we neared the anchorage to find them not more than 5 miles from us and heading up to Makkovik. Minutes later they could actually see us and we crossed, distant, paths.

Manak

Manak is a small pool surrounded by hills or reefs. Mostly deep but it offers one spot where you can anchor in comfort. A few cabins, heavy snow still clinging to sheltered parts of the hillside and the sound of running water were the company for the night. No bears though. The next day took us across the part of the chart that was simply blank; no soundings, no indication of rocks. You can make assumptions based on the steepness of the surround terrain on whether the route is likely to be deep but it remains a gamble and one reason why the standard yottie remark about old charts and rocks not moving doesn't work here as they simply haven't yet found all the rocks.

Strawberry

We anchored that night in Strawberry Hbr, a tiny (for me) pool which seems crowded with one boat. a derelict cabin leaning forlornly on the shore and steep rock sides hemming you in. Exited the following day almost into the path of one of the coastal steamers that supply the communities along the coast - not sure who was more surprised.

The last few days had been good, some sunshine, little fog and enough wind to sail. It continued as we made our way still north to Roses. R&A were heading out of Makkovic so were some way behind us, this mornings steamer was also heading the our way and suddenly Labrador began to feel crowded. Good winds and sailing took us into this anchorage and the following morning saw little wind as both boats drifted off their anchors and headed out. Light winds are not Hannah's forte and in this case I opted to motor in the hope of reaching what little wind there was. I didn't find it initially but did find a shoal patch in a tickle we were running through. Luckily we were on the edge of it and simply "bounced" a couple of times before continuing...hmmm. Not long after we saw a yacht heading toward us going south and stared incredulously as the two boats drew closer. Heading south and some 5 years after we'd last seen him Dennison Berwick in Kuan Yin passed us, having suffered engine problems and been stuck in Hopedale for a while. Through yet another tickle and onto Cape Harrigan. By the time we surfaced the following morning R&A were long gone bound for Kauk. We had intended to go someplace but opted in the end for John Hayes Hbr as Alison said it was an easy entry and they had seen bears when they went there. Right on both counts as we ticked off 3 black bears as we anchored.

In Nain we tied alongside, fuelled up, chatted to a Nunavit boat whose name I can neither spell nor pronounce. It meant, according to the Newfoundland crew, a goddess of the sea. However a local Inuit guy who stopped to chat said, with a grin, that he had been to check out the boat (a research/hydrographic vessel)  and that it's name meant "chasing after women"....... mebbe someone had a sense of humour?

A Black bear for a change

Although we had thought about heading outside in the end both boats opted for the inside passage The Port Manvers Run. Perhaps 20 miles in length it is entirely protected from the sea and has only one drawback - the need to work out when the tide changes at the Second Rattle as speeds can reach 6 knots... I got it wrong but only suffered a 2 knot deficit but still bloody annoying. Also the lack of wind meant yet more motoring and we hauled into Perry's Gulch for the night whilst R&A plowed on to Cut Throat Hbr. The following day as we sailed/motored up from Perry's toward Amity we were surprised to hear a boat calling Hannah on the vhf. It turned out to be a couple who had met Trevor Robertson - he of the triple over-wintering in Arctic/Antarctic - who had crossed from Scotland to Labrador in 26 days, didn't think he could be bothered to go into Nain but may head back to Perth, Aus....... Will we get to see him before he does so?? It was soon after this as we steadily motored past the odd growler that, in a sickening moment of inattention we ran into one. The lump of ice bounced off to one side and what we first took for seal blood on the ice we rapidly realised was our expensive anti-foul. No harm was done or as far as we can tell at anyrate. I guess if Tilman was running the boat he'd have someone over the side, lathered in seal blubber to check everything over but he ain't and we didn't. In time the hailing boat, Francis B, passed us and all three anchored in Amity Cove in Mugford Bay. We managed a brief chat before the mozzies drove us below and they (Frances B not the mozzies) left the following morning before we'd got up.

Both Bee and Alsion wanted to explore a narrow fiord called the Lost Channel and whilst we discussed the thought of taking one boat we ended up using both. It was a hard motor as the head winds funnelled down from the mountains making progress slow for us. But the scenery was stunning, certainly amongst the best we have seen so far and it ends at a narrow isthmus where the sea outside can be easily seen. Sadly for us the polar bear R&A saw had legged it by the time we arrived and the depths were too great to anchor in comfort.

 

They stayed on a while hoping for the bear to come back whilst we hoisted a couple of heads'l and the mizzen and enjoyed the sail back down. A few miles from the nights anchorage the mountain effect kicked in and the wind screamed us along easily reaching 6 - 7knots under reduced sail. We toyed briefly with going back to Amity but dropped the hook in peaceful waters. By morning the Walkabout mob were long gone and we tootled along some hours later. Luckily for us as we came across a polar bear swimming through the Mugford Tickle. A narrow passage about 3 or so miles in length with steep sides it affords few opportunities for the bear to get back onto land and we were able to motor at a little under 3 knots and keep a respectful distance from the bear. For 15 or 20 minutes we followed until it reached its "transition area" and loped off up the scree and rocks without so much as a backwards glance . The honey coloured coat blended well with rocks and he/she was soon out of sight.

Into Maidment to find R&A at anchor in the adjacent cove from where they motored in the following morning to discuss the days approach. Initially we thought of going into Saglek to see if we could buy fuel but the increasing wind suggested we use it to get north. In the end it didn't last (unlike the fog) and fed up of losing time by stopping at night we decided to stay at sea and try and get this part of the journey finished. We kept going until midnight when the gloom and fog made it hard to see any ice. The cold too was making life uncomfortable so we hove to, set the anchor alarm, made up some hot water bottles and huddled down on the sea berth together. Toots, of course has her own sea berth, well padded and heated and ignores life apart from meal times. Onwards the following day toward Stoneman but progress was slow. With twenty miles to go to a reasonable anchorage I made the stupid decision to try to make it for the night. As we closed the coast in gloom and fog checking our radar against the C-Map chart we found the radar image and the chart not matching. Still we crept closer but with Bee warning me that rocks lay ahead we turned away from them to find the depth dropping rapidly and still more breakers appearing. Behind us a wall of water materialised as an overfall was created and things were minutes away from turning ugly. We reversed, slowly extricating ourselves from a dumb situation, turned the boat and headed back out the way we came. Off our starb'd side more breakers could be heard but nothing could be seen through the fog of course. We headed off until we were back in deep water and hove to for a second night. The following day we headed for Home Island as it is the biggest in the "chain" but yet again could not get the radar and chart imagery to agree and went back out and hove to. Our choices now were to remain hove to until the fog cleared or wait until R&A came within range and get info from them. We puzzled it all through with Bee wondering how on earth we had got into Stoneman when we came back from Greenland as we were using C-Map then. She suggested trying the other computer and seeing if the versions might be different and of course they were! The relief aboard Hannah was palpable as the older version had significant coverage of both this area and the Button Islands and before setting off we called R&A to see if they were in range. As they were and agreed to meet in Stoneman that night. Away we went and after a slightly tense time crossing unsurveyed waters we were in, sailing smooth waters and heading into Stoneman.

 As it was 3 years ago the place seems to be the territory of a single large polar bear. Is it the same one? Who knows but this one looks old, thin and very big. He watched as we manoeuvred into position to anchor, shambled closer and we retreated to a spot at the other end of the cove with more swinging room. R&A came in a few hours later with a main that had exploded, tearing from luff to leach, as they rounded a cape and the prospect of either sailing with a triple reefed main or trying to repair. The fog sat heavy.

In the end we sat in Stoneman for 6 nights as the fog was thick and the winds, though favourable were stiff enough to make being at anchor seem very attractive...getting old or what? We did an oil change and R&A repaired the main which ranks as serious bit of work. A repair doesn't really do justice to the work they had to do as the sail has split from luff to leach as they passed one of the headlands. One of the benefits of the bigger boat over Andante is the ability to carry a sewing machine...........

 The bear remained, wandering around, grubbing amongst the lichen for who knows what and sleeping. The days passed, the wind picked up and we made very occasional visits to Walkabout as the temps were low. 6 celsius one morning inside the boat and Russ recorded 2C outside. Would it ever change? And then one day it did. An excited comment in the log records "We can see around us!!" before we all decided we might try for Bowdoin Hbr, named by MacMillan of Bowdoin schooner fame in the 30's. We started to raise the anchor and found the chain encased in fine grass. I went forward to clear it whilst Bee wound the anchor in. In a bizarre moment, whilst leaning over the bow dragging grass away from the chain I overbalanced and fell into the water. Well I somersaulted and ended up to my knees in the water. It was cold. Bee rescued my croc, whilst I extricated myself, was ordered to go and change and told I was not to come up on the foredeck again!!

The journey up to Bowdoin is not to be repeated. Once we had cleared the fiord, pausing to snap yet another bear, and turned north to work our way in a loop along the lightly surveyed route to the harbour. Wasn't long before we knew we had the tides completely wrong and we were stemming a 2-3 knot ebb. At one point I seriously thought of giving up but we persevered and got through the rips and into calmer water. R&A had passed us sometime back and were closing the entrance when we spotted what looked like a fishing boat approaching from the north. Not long after we heard a voice on the radio asking something in French but as we were preoccupied with crossing an unsurveyed area we ignored it. The two boats closed and we could see it wasn't a fishing boat but some sort of expedition craft. As we'd arrived at the channel approach first they hung back to allow us to enter ahead but we waved them on; the stern water churned as they surged ahead and past us; the numerous folks on board waving happily. All three boats anchored and remained there for several days as the wind ripped across the surrounding hills. The other boat was an ex-French Navy tug and had been on a journey that had included the NE passage as well as the NW passage and they had come from Sisimiut in Greenland when we saw them. Something of a shock for them to see two sailboats but we felt confident enough to tell them it would be doubtful if they would see anymore until much further south. The few days were not without drama. Despite our combined Labrador experience Walkabout and Hannah rafted up that first night to share a meal and chat about what happens next. About 1am the wind picked up and we leapt up, dressed and hurtled on deck to find Russ at the wheel, engine running as he thought they had dragged. We'd already decided to cast off and in a rising wind and still dark we headed further into the bay to anchor. Although we were close to the rocks we felt comfortable enough with the holding strength of the Rocna and dozed until 6 ish. We were close and moved further out. Soon after R&A moved too and all three boats settled in for a peaceful day. After a social visit to the tug I got back to find Bee had got a forecast which suggested we would get W20 for the next day. In the end the winds remained above 30 knots most of the time with gusts between 38 and 41 knots.

We could only watch with horror as Walkabout's roller reefing began to unfurl and R&A spent several hours trying to tame it. Each victory was short lived and the balloon in the sail was allowing the wind to wrench the foil from side to side; it could only be a matter of time before something went. At its worst it looked as though the whole rig might be in danger..... Phillipe, on the tug, called up on the radio offering bodies and were aboard soon after. Russ felt the only chance they had was a lull and try to get it down using the hands they now had. In the end it went very smoothly, the slightly torn sail was below decks and the French guys returned to their boat via the 25hp outboard and rib. There are definite advantages to having motorised transport. Much as we love the Pudgy there is little chance we could have got back to Hannah if we had tried to get over. The winds continued and soon after the tug left. They called soon after to say they'd gone outside the harbour and turned right (having explored it in the rib before) and found better shelter. Although the wind was still blowing high 20's we opted to follow- ah the lure of a nights sleep! Bee worked like a trojan to extricate the anchor as I fought to keep Hannah facing the right way. With a huge effort we broke it out but the wind pushed our bow the wrong way and we were now being pushed further into the bay and toward Walkabout. Hard astern held us and the outgoing current helped move us away from the obstacles, tiller over and hard ahead saw us clear and moving out. as Bee staggered back along the deck visibly drained from the effort of standing up in the wind whilst raising the anchor. An amazing effort. The new anchorage was better, less wind and no chop although deeper. We had to anchor twice as an eddy kept pushing us too close to the tug and Bee warned me that we had to get it right as she didn't think she had another "up anchor" in her that day. A fine night's sleep followed. Such luxury.

After much discussion both boats decided to head for the Button Islands and then transit the McClenan Sound. The trip up to Button is short at around 20 miles and with the fast running flood should be relatively easy. The plan was to go around the east side thus staying out of the notorious Grey Sound but lack of wind persuaded us it would be easy and shorter......The wind picked up once we were committed and as it was a westerly we had wind over tide, water everywhere and speeds in excess of 9 knots. Not my cup of tea at all but we made it through and into the anchorage.

Up in the Button Islands - looks healthy enough...

Deep but quiet and the benefit of bears the following morning dining on a seal. We snapped away before wandering across the sound to another island to check out an anchorage and get ready for the Mclelan. R&A joined us some hours later having spent hours photographing the bears. For whatever reason we didn't head across to the Mclelan and the delay was enough to convince my over active imagination that taking Hannah along a 15 mile cut through where tides can reach 9 knots, particularly when we didn't have to was not what I wanted to do. Luckily Bee agreed and we decided to start the journey south the following morning. The Buttons are ok but the anchorages we used are not, as far as we felt, the ones you would feel happy in a blow. R&A took the news calmly and the following morning as we hauled up the anchor said they were heading up to Resolution Island to have a look and to try and reach Baffin. Both boats left about the same time and we motored south across the Grey Strait until we were close enough to ensure we wouldn't pick up a foul tide. Crept into Clarks "crossing" the land to do so - aagh the glory of gps and old charts. The local bear took one look at us coming in and legged it across the hills but a grazing caribou kept us entertained that evening. We took the ebbing tide and northerly wind down to Williams Hbr as a) we had never been there and b) I needed to re-splice a different, longer rode to the anchor chain. The wind switched to the south giving us a beat for much of the distance and then failed all together leaving us an hour or so of motoring into an enormous natural harbour. It seemed pretty uninspiring compared to what we'd been used to but in the end we grew to like it, the vast openness of the surrounding hills and protection easily reached around the perimeter. But the forecast for NW20 would mean a hard slog to get out so we moved to another, unreported, bay and anchored. Bears lay slumped on rocks or spreadeagled in snowfields as the sun obviously didn't make them comfy. In that anchorage Bee counted 6 polar bears spread over various hills, almost all dozing in the coldest places they could find but too far away for decent pics.

That night the wind came in early, funneled down the valley and battered us. We dozed but didn't really sleep and in the morning got ready to up anchor and escape. Given the last problem we'd had with the wind taking charge we talked it through and what we needed to do and then set about it. The gusts came repeatedly, all in excess of 30 knots, as Bee wound the chain in whilst I slowly motored forward. With the best part of 50 metres out this was going to be a slow job but gradually we were winning. With about 20 metres to go (we were in 14 metres of water) the wind caught the bow and hurled as sideways, plucking the anchor out of the sea-bed. Many of the anchorages are heavily coated in kelp with perhaps mud or sand underneath and as Bee kept winching the anchor in the weight, as we swung through the water coupled to the enormous quantity of kelp actually on it, made her job desperate. With the engine hard astern we were still getting pushed sideways and I finally gunned it ahead and was overjoyed at the positive reaction as Hannah immediately began to respond and swing in the desired direction. No doubt the weight of the anchor dangling over the bow had something to do with it but it all needed to got back on board before we could leave. Bee came aft as we slowly motored away from the danger to where we could finish the job. She was trembling from the sheer physical effort, it had been a huge effort and I don't know anyone else who would have been able to deal with it. Certainly not me. Remarkable effort.

Out through the passage we had failed to find in the fog when we arrived a few weeks back. How much easier it is to identify islands when they can be seen! No surprises and out into the ocean where a NW wind was a fraction of what the anchorage had been. Offshore R&A could be seen (they'd got to Resolution but the ice sliding out of Frobisher had been more than they wanted) and we enjoyed a good day, stunning scenery, blue sky and relatively warm conditions. Toward the late afternoon the wind began fade and if we were to make Nachvak we needed to motor. Even so it was almost midnight before the anchor dropped into Schooner Cove and we were able to appreciate the Northern Lights before downing a very large drink.

Couple of cubs - mother was in the water swimming but the offspring watched then padded along the shore...

We spent a couple of nights there as a low pressure system was producing strong winds. We'd looked on the chart for an alternative but anything suitable was either north or into a headwind to get there. We opted to remain as the winds went from SE20 to E30 to NW35. In the event it was nothing like that of course but everyone was pleased with the shelter Schooner gives. The one drawback to anchoring in Labrador is the enormous amount of kelp the anchor needs to penetrate before it can get to the mud underneath. Getting the thing up with, seemingly, acres of the damn stuff clinging to chain and anchor is something else.

Now we're in Eastern Harbour on Big Island, Saglek. Cape Uvik is to our south. The pool we're in is shallow - 5 metres or so with good holding and land-locked. Another blow is forecast in a few days although there is some uncertainty about the direction. Whatever, we've had enough of motoring in order to get somewhere so we'll sit it out here, we think, until we get favourable winds........

Random thoughts:On the vhf weather forecast we heard "....rain and fog ending tomorrow morning. Rain and fog commencing tomorrow afternoon...." Whilst in Clark's Harbour we heard (on Aug 11), Iqualit radio forecast say that East Clyde would get snow flurries and we chortled to ourselves. When we left Schooner Cove, Aug 18 we noticed that fresh snow had fallen on the surrounding mountains...... Having said that it is noticeably warmer this bit further south.

Aug 25th. So much for the sit and wait for favourable winds.....high pressure to the east of us gives a diet of either headwinds or light and variable. After 4 nights sat at anchor,with 2 days of constant rain we upped and headed for Maidmont some 15 miles away. Much of the journey was foggy with a lumpy swell off Uivik but we were moving south. The following day we pushed on, mostly under power, to get into the Mugford Bay area, passing through the tickle with a sighting of a Black Bear. R&A had sussed out a new anchorage with great shelter from west through south to south east. Unfortunately it blew up from the north in the night which made for a sleepless night but the excitement of knowing we had, at last, a favourable wind eased that pain. Of course it only lasted for an hour or so once we'd got going and once more we plugged on under engine. With calm seas and little wind we opted to make another long push to gain shelter in Port Manvers Run and arrived very tired around 8pm. Trees!! How we miss those trees and the softening they bring to a landscape.

Fog and 'bergs......

The trip from St John's Hbr proved eventful in so far as the drone of the engine was suddenly pierced by Bee shrieking that she could see Orca's. And so she could; 3 in total and looking like 2 adults and a young 'un. They passed across our bow and then reappeared some distance of to starb'd giving us yet another tick off item. Walrus and Narwhal we're hoping to add to “seen that” Spent the night at St Barbe.

The forecast was for southerlies later in the day. Well it didn't arrive of course but fog did and by late afternoon we were moving slowly through a dense grey coating. Visibility was poor and then we heard the forecast was now for Sth 30 knots. Well we were heading NE so ordinarily we would welcome 30 knots from astern. But with little vis that made things a tad uncomfortable....I began putting in a reef as the seas were lumpy and the main gets thrown about in these situations. It was as I was finishing off the task that Bee remarked quietly....”..isn't that an iceberg ahead..”? And so it was – a large berg too and the situation suddenly altered as the prospect of fog, strong winds and bergs came together. 

Within an hour we started to see more and they were bigger – at least they showed up on radar but not the growlers or bergy bits and Bee spent some time on the bow calling out directions as we motored between them. By now we had decided to head into Chateau Bay and sit out the blow in safety and provided we could get past the bergs that seemed to blocking our course we would be there around nightfall. As we approached 2 bergs about a mile apart the engine suddenly cut out and stopped. Luckily we were far enough away to simply turn away and sort it out. The system we use for filling the tank on the move had failed (basically a syphon system using hoses and a 'bulb” to start the flow off. I'm guessing that with all the rolling we were under going the syphon had stopped working and the tank had been so empty that the feed to the filters had picked up air. Took a few seconds to check the guages and water then get fuel into the tank and we were moving again albeit slowly as we wanted to allow enough fuel to get into the tank. In the end we got past the bergs, altered course for the entrance , suffered a moments disbelief when it looked as though a berg was grounded across it before realising we had identified the entrance correctly. In we went sending hundreds of eider ducks to flight and dropped the hook so pleased to be in free of the trauma outside. By 6 the following morning we were on the move again as the wind had changed and we were now on a lee shore with about a metre under the keel. Chateau is a neat place but the shelf is tiny and drops away to 30 metres quickly so any anchoring involves getting very close inshore. Hence our sudden departure. We motored out of the bay and set sail for Ship Harbour. Not to be as winds became lighter then headed us before shifting again. We crept past Battle Harbour but gave up and headed into Fox where we could, at least get diesel. To our surprise there were 4 boats already there including Russ and Alison. The gut who gave us a lift to collect the fuel said he'd never seen 5 boats in the harbour at once which is indicative of something. Probably the fact that the weather has been so poor that no boat had yet left for Greenland had something to do with it. We have decided not to head that way ourselves for a variety of reasons not least lack of wind plus an abundance of fog and bergs.

We pushed on the next day for Ship Harbour but it wasn't a wise decision.The wind headed us, we motor tacked the whole way and fog was thick. We were passed (at speed) by a funky looking motor-sailor who were heading up to Occasional Hbr. Like us they'd been living on the boat for 15 years but had spent several winters marooned (by choice) in Greenland. We were stood in the cockpit dressed in warm, weatherproof clothing, steering as they motored by sat in their warm, heated environment clad, no doubt, in t-shirts and slippers.....

R&A joined us the following day and we left for somewhere north. In the end we had a lumpy sail and made it into Punchbowl barrelling in though the narrow entrance with the main still set and found 3 yots and a fishing boat tied up to the dock! R&A of course plus 2 more from Fox Hbr, Nomad and Vagabondelle, Austrian and Polish respectively.

The journey north begins........

With the deadline approaching we left Belfast on a glorious sunny day with a following breeze for MDI -Mount Desert Island. We had the Eggimoggin Reach to ourselves and enjoyed one of the pleasantest days sailing for a long time. Maine really is an exceptional place to be, particularly the area we were in and we can't recommend it too highly. We fetched up that evening in Goose Cove before arriving in NE Harbour the following day to visit Philip and Helen for a few days. And a fine time was had too – with us resisting P's efforts to take us hiking..

NE Harbour

Whilst we'd been in Belfast we had sold the Sea Hopper dinghy and had just missed out on two separate Pudgy's we'd seen advertised. We logged onto the internet whilst in NEH and found another one had been listed a few hours ago, emailed and then skyped the seller. We agreed the asking price on the strength of the photos and then set about organising how we'd collect it. John Tani was happy to run us down to near Portland to collect (almost 200 miles one way) and Philip dropped me off around lunchtime. We found the address, noted that a rowlock was missing but paid up anyway. A 15 minute journey into Portland got us to the company who build them, a pair of rowlocks bought and we were back on the road again. 

The Pudgy

Arriving back at NEH we loaded the two part dinghy (split) onto John's pick up and we were the very pleased owners of a Portland Pudgy. No it doesn't row as well as the one we had loaded onto the truck but it is lighter, has a number of very clever features and we now have a lifeboat!

We headed off for Nova Scotia intending to call in at Halifax and sort out a US visa. As the winds died we stopped at Lunenburg and found that no visas were being processed anywhere as the electronic system was down and we'd have to wait...and wait until it was back up and running. We headed out resigned to sorting it out on the way back. Made a couple of stops along the NS coast ( including one where a lobster fisherman asked if we needed anything – a welder I replied. He called his mate on the vhf and shortly the other boat came alongside. I showed the guy the damaged part of the self-steerer. He took it, returned the following morning, handed it over refused any payment and went back to his fishing...)and then left from Glasgow Harbour, at the northern end of Andrews Passge to sail around the outside of Cape Breton. All went well, if slowly, until I realised with horror that we had no charts of much of Labrador! In the past we have been able to borrow them from Henry Fuller who runs the Cape Breton Boatyard at Baddeck and after an hour I knew we needed to retrace our steps and enter the Bras 'or Lakes and go see Henry. It was 20 miles back to the canal, we arrived after hours and tied up alongside to await the lock opening. Through the next day, spending a little time with Jack and Glenda before pushing on to Baddeck. Henry more than happy to loan us the charts of course and I felt a lot better.

Hannah and Walkabout, Baddeck-pic by Wolfie off Nomad

A day or so later Russ and Alison arrived to join us but opted to stay at Baddeck to complete repairs before heading north in a day or so. We left, swept through the entrance at 9knots and turned the bow toward the SW tip of Newfoundland. The wind was out of the south, Hannah ran with a full main under the self-steerer and all was good. As the day progressed the forecast of what was to come that night increased to SE 35 knots with gusts of 70 knots in the Wreckhouse area. We altered course to Dingwall at the north end of Cape Breton and swept through the entrance around dusk, happy to be in to what turned out to be an excellent anchorage. Quiet with little effect from the wind outside we remained there until the Tuesday. We left hoping to reach the Belle Isle Strait in one jump but not to be of course. We drifted a couple of nights before anchoring in Keppel Harbour near Port Saunders. That day we had been surprised to see 3 sail boats heading along the coast, one we later found out was Russ and Alison and we met up a gain in Port A'Choix after they tempted us with showers and laundry at the Fisherman,s Centre.

For many years Bee has always wanted to visit St Johns Island and as it only 7 miles from PA'C we headed up to it on a day with stiff headwinds for anything further. Great place, 6 summer cabins but otherwise empty,excellent shelter, clean entrance and a great stop over as it is close to your route up or down the Strait.

Now we're motoring up the Strait,awaiting the arrival of the favourable winds....

A touch of fog...

Tues May 5^th

We left the dock waving a sad g'bye to Robin and Jac as they continued with putting Blackthorn back together in preparation for their summer aboard. We sailed and motored slowly up river and out into the bay, seeing very little traffic and shaped our course for the entrance to Buzzards Bay. Before too long a breeze came in and we were soon bowling along at 6knots having benefited from a 4 day haul out and anti-foul. Day slipped into night and we were joined by a big red moon and it felt good to be back at sea and heading north. The first couple of days went well, the nights enlivened by 14 strong fishing fleets we eased our way through. The only issue we seemed to have was the self-steerer didn't seem as responsive as usual and we were reduced to steering by hand on a number of occasions. It would be some days before we checked it and found a part had been bent causing it to stick on part of the framework. Reversing the part cured it and we have subsequently had it rebuilt in Belfast, Maine.

On the 7^th the fog came in and we crept slowly forward but mostly drifted. Sometime it would lift a little and we saw puffins and whales nearby. But mostly the fog lay all around us; visibility often as little as 100 metres but mostly around 500-800 metres. 

Fog

 We were far enough off shore not be too concerned about tugs etc but as we approached, at night, the northern most Traffic Separation Lane running into New York we could hear foghorns and see the traffic on AIS. We hove to to await morning and the vain hope it may have lifted. It didn't of course but it felt a little easier to be crossing the lane in daylight. With little wind and no sun we motored from time to time to charge batteries; it also enabled us to run the radar but the dense, dreary and dripping fog continued. We decided to head outside Nantucket rather than go through Buzzards Bay as drifting in light winds would be easier. 

Fog

A wise choice as we heard the forecast of 22knots inside the bay with zero visibility whilst we only had 10knots and limited viz. The following day they actually closed the Canal after Northern Right Whales had been spotted in it and several hours passed before we heard it was reopened. The fog continued. We worked our way around Nantucket and turned for Maine, the fog finally cleared on Tuesday May 12 when we were some 40 miles from Isle Au Haut and the wind, which had been in a general SW direction switched to the NW and picked up. So the last bit was more on the nose than we wanted and dictated a change of venue but we were so glad to be back in Maine that it didn't matter. We slid into Moores Hbr on Isle Au Haut around 8pm on Wed 13^th May some 729 nm and 91/2 days after we left Portsmouth. Whilst open to the SW, the harbour offers great protection from northerly quadrant winds; good mud, silence broken only by the call of a loon and the place to ourselves. It doesn't get any better.

The following day we sailed up to Belfast via the Fox Island Thoroughfare; some beating but mostly just sunshine and emotion as we cruised up Penobscot Bay; passing the Camden Hills, Isleboro and so many places we are familiar with. A call to the Belfast Harbour had Kathy, the harbour-master, on the radio welcoming us in and by 6 pm we were tied up, greeted and so glad to be “home”

We've been here 14 days, seen friends we haven't seen for 3 years, wondered where the time has gone and made plans to leave.... the permit we have for the US expires in the middle of June; the ice seems to have cleared from Belle Isle Strait other than a few 'bergs and Greenland is the summer destination so a fair bit of sailing over the next 5 months.

With the passing of miles our main had become thinner and we were reduced to spraying adhesive onto the main and a patch then pressing them together. Luckily we had some spare material and a local sailmaker in Norfolk cut out the worst of the sail and added a new piece. Here in Belfast we have had another sailmaker repair the #1 and add a patch to the stays'l, so all is well we think. 

Belfast, Maine

Out of the heat and north to sanity

Some time has passed since we posted from Guadalupe and we have moved, thankfully, north and out of the Caribbean. We sailed up to St Barts and spent a few days at anchor at the north of the island but St B's isn't a place we'd recommend. The harbour is large, busy and dominated by super-yachts, huge privately owned ships that seem totally out of place. On to the BVI where we caught a ferry to St Johns USVI and got stamped into the USA. Our 90 day ticket had begun and all we needed was a good weather window. None was forth coming but with our BVI visa soon to expire we gladly upped the anchor and sailed out. That the Caribbean north of Guadalupe is popular can't be denied but we're at a loss to understand or appreciate why it should be. Overcrowded and expensive (except for rum) we felt nothing but relief as we saw the islands fade astern of us. In many ways we were lucky we felt that way; lucky that we were heading north to cooler climes and more interesting scenery as the winds were fickle and difficult. Originally we thought we might follow the channel and come up between the Bahamas and Cuba/DR but opted for a more direct route ie head straight for Cape Henry and the Chesapeake. The wind gave us a good start as we covered 111 nm on the first 24 hours but after that the mileage fell as we struggled to make distances. 6 nm in 4 hours was not uncommon and the days began to mount up. We began picking up the NOAA weather on the SSB and after 2 weeks heard of strong winds from Maine and southwards. 45-50knots got my attention very quickly but it was all a long way north and I relaxed. 

The advantage of the Bahamas route as I saw it was the chance to pick up the Gulf Stream and benefit from it whereas the route we were on meant we needed to cross it in the Cape Hatteras region and time it with a favourable wind. Not a relaxed ship as we slid closer to the Stream and the forecasts varied but in the end, as so often happens, the fear of what might happen is washed away but what did. Which was nothing. The wind was light and favourable and whilst we sometimes ran into turbulent seas caused, I think, by eddies colliding it was soon over. For the whole trip we'd been thinking that once we arrived at Cape Hatteras our journey was over but we still had well over 100nm to go so the last section dragged and dragged to the point that we motored when winds speeds dropped and the tide threatened to send us southwards. Finally 21 days, 9 hours after we left the BVI we dropped the hook off Hospital Point and slept.

The following we day we rowed into see R&J our partners in drunken nights, cadge a lift with them to Homeland Security and the test of whether the Visa Waiver entry would work on mainland USA. It does although not without close questioning on how we entered the US in the first place etc. So a result – we were in and as long as we leave within 90 days everything will be hunkydory.

Since we arrived we've hauled, repainted and done various jobs, splashed back in and are patiently waiting a window to get us up to Buzzards Bay and beyond. The “plan” had us leaving by the end of April so only a few days late if we get away on Monday. R&J should haul in the next day or so and then commence their journey back to Europe; Russ and Alison came down to visit in their new (to them) Hans Christian and are making decisions about when and where to go, Olly has arrived in Bermuda and is psyching himself up for the return Atlantic trip so all is well in our world.

The dock where we're tied up is in downtown Portsmouth and close to the Portsmouth-Norfolk ferry. People stroll by,sometimes stop and ask about the boat, where we've come from ...you never crossed the ocean in that!!? is a regular comment. Today we had a couple say “isn't that Martin and Roma's boat” something we haven't heard for a good number of years.

Whilst it isn't a plan we do have two alternatives to the next 6 months. One is sail up to Maine/Nova Scotia and head back to the UK/Europe and the other is to head north to Greenland for the summer and return via Baffin and down to a dock near Annapolis that Steve and Luanne have offered us for the winter. We'll keep our options open. 

Any guesses?

 Portsmouth, VA

It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings....

Another month goes by as we languish in the heat of the Caribbean and have moved a few miles further north to Guadeloupe, made up our minds and changed them innumerable times, despaired at the anchoring techniques displayed and met up with old friends from years back. First the negative.

If we thought Fort de France was tight, the anchorage off Deshaies is often unreal. We arrived one late afternoon to find the bay very crowded and the safest water was too deep for comfort at 20 metres so we went a few hundred yards further north and shared a much larger bay with one superyacht. Long sandy beach, few people (although we later found it had numerous bars further along). The following morning, having watched 10 sails disappear north toward Antigua we upped anchor and found ourselves a spot off the village in the first bay. If it has a drawback it is the wind that funnels down from high hills and accelerates across the anchorage causing mayhem with those who either haven't anchored well or anchors are too light. One such incident was a charter boat that anchored too close to us. We pointed out that when we stretched out we were likely to catch them with our self-steerer. They suggested they could lay out more chain...sure we said how much do you have out....20 metres was the reply...but we're in 12 metres of water we said. They moved onto a buoy. And so it would go on. The anchorage would fill up and the late comers insisted on motoring through the boats determined to find a small spot they could squeeze into irrespective of scope or proximity of hull shape of their neighbour. Initially I would warn boats in no uncertain terms that they were fouling our anchor or chain but of late I've given up. In Fort de France a guy who anchored between us and another boat was told he was over our chain. He told me my anchor was somewhere else and if he was in the way he would move if needed. When we left the following day, despite warning them we were off, he chose to nap. Bee started winching the chain up creeping ever closer to the offending boat. With 3 metres to go before we hit them we still had 20 metres out and kept going as by then I had had enough. The bowsprit, always a sure fire way of getting folks attention, touched their sunshade and galvanised them into action as he was dragged from his bed and motored out of the way. Yesterday we noticed a boat drifting out to sea and realised it was couple we had met a few hours earlier. They had a problem with their engine so had little chance other than to sail back in. As nothing seemed to be happening Bee hailed a rib off a big charter cat and luckily found the perfect guy for the task. For one he'd been running the boat as its skipper for 10 years and the rib had a 70hp engine. It has to be said that Bee is unable to see folks struggling if we can assist … my experience had been that few seem to be bothered about helping and would simply say no to a request. As ever she persevered. We dumped ropes for towing into the rib and sped off and I mean sped! Jeez when you're used to rowing a dinghy to be suddenly hurtling across the waves at at 30 knots is unreal. Paul, the guy who had agreed to help, got us both out there and we set about helping the couple to get the boat back in. Obviously the seas were lumpier but the wind was still 25 – 30 knots, the boat weighed about 13 tons and Paul had doubts about being able to do the job. In the event he made the tow look so easy as we made our way into a more sheltered part. But the boat dragged again and again as the anchor appeared to hold and then gradually let go. Through the night we'd get up to monitor their progress and finally around 4am they got in close enough to drop and hold. I can only imagine they must have worked out the engine problem and sorted it. Too often we have seen boats anchoring in strong wind conditions getting blown rapidly sideways as they begin to lay out the chain. Nothing wrong with that but the combination of a light boat; no forefoot and electric windless seem to be a disastrous one as the boat moves faster than the chain can be laid out unless the windless can go into freefall and consequently it ends up a long way from where the anchor was dropped. I know I've laboured the point before but the anchor is the one thing you should invest in – it might seem like a lot of money but when the wind is howling with no sign of a let up knowing you're securely dug in with little chance of breaking out is worth every penny. And disregard what folks say about weights in relation to your boat – even our much loved Rocna say we'd be more than covered with a 25kg so with a 33kg we might be considered over the top. Yet we're in 13 metres with 50 metres out and solid. We've seen boats hauling in 60 metres and more and dragging (though not with a Rocna)

The positive. My sister and her husband sailed into Fort de France a month or so back and we had the chance to check out their boat. In fact we took great delight in rowing past our neighbours and saying we were going to visit their (sister's) boat, an Oyster 54. Their jaws would drop as they try to connect this scruffy gaffer with this pristine yacht! Paul and Trish welcomed us aboard with cold drinks, showers and the use of the washing machine! The contrast between our cruising life is summed up in that sentence really and after the first visit we returned to Hannah and realised how “difficult” we had made our life. Having said that even if we could afford an Oyster (hah!!!) it probably wouldn't suit us, although Paul & Trish are the most generous people you could meet and as far from the sort of person you might think would own such a boat as it is possible to be. Apart from the deep pockets obviously.

So Hannah is up for sale, many thanks to all those who have written to us about the decision and the kind words. Thanks too to the friends who offered to help move Hannah along the way. Bee, after returning from a 3 week break in the UK knows that the 365 day boat life is not for her any more but we're going to move Hannah back to the UK together and planning a last trip north to finish on a high. At this stage we're not sure how far north but out of the Caribbean asap. It seems there is a way to enter the USA using the ESTA scheme (see here) which we're going to check out and will report on in due course. Or if you have experience of the scheme perhaps you might let us know?

The gusts are continuing, some boats leave trying to get to Antigua before the weather gets worse tomorrow (Wed 4 March) and more arrive, glad to be in. Over the days we've had a succession of big boats arrive, numerous charter boats and a fair few superyachts. Cronos is a Dutch registered stays'l schooner with guests. Two crew came over to admire Hannah and in response to a question as to whether they had any spare ice promised to return with some. Half hour later the rib returned with a large plastic bag full of the stuff! A week later they returned to the anchorage and this time the rib came straight over with a bag of ice – the joys of having an eye-catching boat! In Fort de France as we left the anchorage we motored past a yacht about 120' long; 3 crew on deck in matching attire. The boat was spotless and very expensive. The crew waved to us and we said we were delivering our boat to them as the owner had agreed to a straight swap....the guy smiled and said “Hold on I'll just ask him” and spoke down a hatch to someone below. A guy appeared at the companionway, phone in hand, broke off the conversation he was having as I called out “Thought we might swap – got a Bill of Sale in my pocket”, grinned at us said “mebbe next time” and went back to his call. No idea on these things really but if he got any change out of $20milllion I'd be surprised.

And finally. 3 things have made me pause about Hannah's future. One was looking on the AIS live site at where Europa, the Dutch sail training ship we shared an anchorage with at Cascais. It's tied up in Ushuaia..... The second, reading Roger Taylor's (The Simple Sailor) account of his non stop trip up to Svalbard down to Jan Mayan island, then a wander across toward the east coast of Greenland and back to the UK in a small junk rigged boat; all in a couple of months because Mr Taylor doesn't bother with shore going but simply sails for the hell of it. Lastly today we had our first prospective buyers and as I took them through the boat, talked up the virtues etc I found myself thinking...I'm not sure I can go ahead with this. A later conversation with Bee revealed she had much the same feeling....it ain't over 'til the fat lady sings.

Deshaies
Guadeloupe

Adventurous sailors wanted...

The time has come when, sadly, we need to sell Hannah and are putting the boat up for sale. After 14 years, 5 Atlantics and some 70,000nm Bee has finally called it a day and needs to do other things and who can blame her. As I approach 67 I know I can't handle the boat on my own and rather than sit around we'd prefer someone else take the boat on. Hannah is NOT a “consumer cruising” crammed floating palace but everything you need, in our view, for a solid, interesting and attainable way of life (other than money of course) is within the sturdy hull,

JAN 2016.After we finished the Buttons trip we thought about what we might do. Selling Hannah was NOT high on the list so, for the moment, we're intending to keep going. I'll leave this page up because we might, at some point, decide to sell. 

Yola racing - Martinique

This past weekend has seen some keen racing of these boats each coming from a different island. On the Sunday morning a path was cleared through the anchorage. Not that it appeared to make much difference as the boats came charging through anchored boats causing a wild mixture of alarm and excitement. Little did we know! 

It was a two lap race and whilst steering the boat is done via a tiller it also doubles as a paddle when they tack to help push the bow around. 3 men to a tiller whilst the rest act as mobile and agile ballast. One person seems to control the mainsheet. The crews are vociferous to say the least, yelling instructions to the helm, each other whilst trying to keep the boat upright. 

 Open boats they need to be constantly bailed and with no side decks it is easy enough to get it wrong and flood the boat, dumping everyone in the water. The winning crew, on both races,came from Caracou and were joy to watch. No shouting just concentration they led the first race from the start but lost the lead on the second lap of the second race. The two lead boats were close but it looked as though Caracou would lose. The lead boat opted for the shorter line which took it closer to the fort which dominates the anchorage and causes a wind shadow. The second boat chose to rattle through the anchorage , maintained the wind and crossed the line seconds ahead. Exciting and colourful to watch at close quarters. 

The winning crew

 

poles are shifted rapidly from one side to the other as required

(below) The guy in the centre of the boat is controlling the main and they managed to keep sailing, despite the hull being under water, and crossed the line some 50 metres away..

 

 This yole came close to shoving one of the poles through the cabin window....rapid action from Jason got them away.