The Yacht Anomaly

Moving on!!!

2011-06-16T21:58:00.000-04:00

Yes, we are moving on. The boat is about to be launched in Somes Sound, Maine, with the ultimate destination for this year likely Annapolis.

We are also moving the Blog. Going forward, it will be maintained on Wordpress. The URL is yachtanomaly.wordpress.com, or click on this link and bookmark it. The tools on blogger are just to archaic to deal with (WYSIWYG it is NOT). We are told (and hoping) that Wordpress will be better.

Preview of Defense Against the Dark Arts - for more, go to yachtanomaly.wordpress.com

Minesweepers: The ultimate solution to the Lobster Pot Problem?

2010-10-24T14:15:00.001-04:00

Jon rants:

Over the intervening days after our lobster pot snag, I have been thinking of ways to mitigate the hazard to navigation that the Lobster Pot Problem represents. On the Nova Scotia coast I had been reading "The Caine Mutiny", picked up in Baddeck from the box of exchange books at the marina. Those familiar with the story will remember that the 'USS Caine' is a minesweeper, and in the book is a good description of the minesweeping process:

Paravanes (towed buoys designed to sheer well to the side of the towing vessel) are launched port and starboard, and carry with them abrasive coated lines which run laterally under the surface. When these abrasive lines contact the anchor line of the mine - or lobster buoy - it saws through the line and the hazard floats to the surface, where they are destroyed by 20mm anti-aircraft fire. You can see where I am going with this.....

In the Chesapeake, crab pots are a similar hazard. It is my understanding that there are now "pot free zones" established in some places in order to allow at least some recreational boating to take place unhindered by these fishing pirates. My suggestion is to sweep designated anchorages and channels in Maine using minesweeping techniques, removing these hazards as a public service.

I hope the Maine authorities will act promptly on my suggestion.

October 4,5,and 6- The Final Leg will not be forgotten

2010-10-22T16:38:00.000-04:00

Wednesday- At 10:45, October 6th

Ann writes:

Thank goodness we have arrived at our final destination!

I was never entirely fearful, but when we were communicating with the US Coast Guard, I had fleeting visions of them taking us off Anomaly and leaving her to be bashed to bits, trapped in high seas on a lobster pot. And it all can be attributed to the fact that she's a very fast boat. But I digress....

We left Lunenburg on Jon's theory that we would sail through Monday night, Tuesday and night and arrive in North East Harbor (NEH), Mount Desert Island (MDI), Maine by the light of Wednesday morning, but it didn't work out that way. I remember thinking I would rather wait 12 hours and have 2 day legs and one night leg, but the weather report for late Weds. wasn't good. If I'd known it was also a new moon, I definitely would have made that request.

Things started ok with a chilly but lovely parting sunset over Lunenburg, but as total darkness fell, with no horizon and rough, bounding conditions, I began to feel really ill. It also got extremely cold. I had to take more drugs which made me drowsy. I was able to spell Jon on watch for awhile, but he didn't get much rest due to the boisterous conditions and the odd behavior of the frequent fishing vessels. Some of the nautical lighting schemes didn't seem to make sense and it was sometimes difficult to tell what was coming at you. Monday was a rough night that didn't set us up well for the rest of the voyage.

By the time I came up on deck Tuesday morning, things had calmed down a bit in the gulf of Maine. I saw some porpoises, a seal, and 2 different little birds landed on the rigging for a short while The rest of the sailing was actually pretty good, and it became apparent that our good progress had us arriving in the darkness of early morning. There was a definite possibility of tangling with Maine's famous seafood.

The trouble started around 3AM Weds. Jon was finally sleeping and I noted we were drifting slightly from the heading he specified. I knew it probably wasn't significant, but I was absorbed by studying the instruments. It was a dark but starry night, and I became aware of faint shapes zipping by. I finally decided to rouse Jon, and then some of the buoys started hitting the boat, so we definitely were in amongst the lobster pots, more than 9 miles offshore in over 250 feet of water!

Jon decided to turn around, but almost immediately we were stuck. It was 5 am, total darkness, a storm coming, and the sea bashing the transom as Anomaly strained on the lobster pot. It was just about 5AM. I'll let Jon tell the rest of the story, but just short of ordering an expensive rescue 4 hours later, we popped off and were free again. After another 2 hours of dodging pots all the way into the harbor, we arrived.

In summary,

2568 nautical miles (just under 3000 statute miles)

6 provinces

2 states

2 countries

Jon writes:

As we turned southwest from Lunenburg along the southern Nova Scotia shore, the wind increased from the east and soon we had 2 reefs in main and mizzen. We dodged one large dragger that completely ignored (or perhaps was ignorant of) our presence. It was quite a rough sea, with 20-25 knots from the east following up on the strong wind from the south over the last couple of days, and neither of us were feeling our best. As we neared the southern tip of Nova Scotia, there was more traffic: cruise ships heading north towards Halifax, fishing trawlers moving randomly, and one peculiar assemblage that must have been a tug and tow. They had been paralleling our course offshore, but closing the distance and then turned to go west. I wanted to be a bit further south to avoid the places on the chart marked "tidal rips", many of which had names like "The Rip", "Tail of The Rip", "Horse Race", etc. These are caused by the strong currents turning the point out of the Bay of Fundy. When less than a mile distant a powerful searchlight came on from the tug and picked us out. He must have seen our radar transponder and wondered what we were. They finally altered course to pass astern, much to my relief.

As we turned west around Brazil Rock, it became apparent that we were well ahead of the speed needed to arrive in Maine in the morning: we had covered the 93 miles from Lunenburg in less than 12 hours. The next 20 miles to Seal Rock took less than 2 hours, running through the water with speeds often in the high 9s, and carrying sometimes 2.5 knots favorable current. Into the next morning the wind lightened, and nearing noon it was down to 4 knots. Had it stayed strong, we might have made Maine by nightfall. I kept two reefs in both main and mizzen to slow down even more, so that we would not be too early reaching the coast.

At midday I started the engine to charge the batteries, and shifting into gear revealed that we had picked something up on the prop the night before, bad vibration at any speed above idle. This meant that the engine could only be used with care for manueuvering to dock once we arrived in Northeast Harbor. Eventually the wind picked up to 8 knots or so, and it became quite a pleasant, leisurely sail at 4 or 5 knots, calm sea, double reefed though the afternoon and night. Then about 4 AM Ann woke me with the news that she had seen lobster buoys.

This seemed unlikely since we were still 10 miles offshore and in 250 feet of water. We had not seen lobster pots set this deep or this far offshore anywhere in Canada. But sure enough there they were, lots of them. And very difficult to see with a slight chop and no moon. I had planned to hove-to if we arrived early, but as we were already among the pots it seemed inadvisable: hoving-to drifts the boat sideways, making it more likely you will snag one. So I decided to turn around to retrace our path further offshore (and presumable towards fewer buoys) until daylight. Within a very few minutes, it became apparent that we had caught one as our speed dropped to less than a knot and it became difficult to steer. I got the sails down and we were essentially anchored, stern to the seas.

Our route, Lunenburg to Maine (click on chart to expand)

The wind was up to 12 or 14 knots, and the waves were getting getting noticeably bigger and pounding the transom every so often with a resounding thump. The common advice when caught on a lobster pot buoy is to hook the line with a boathook, try to untangle it and if unsuccessful cut the line. As dawn broke I found I could extend the one good boathook (the other had gotten bent by an errant sheet crossing the Cabot Strait and would no longer extend) and by leaning over the transom with the end in one hand, hook the line tethering us to the pot. But there was far too much tension in the line to have any hope of hauling it on board, or close enough to cut. Even holding on to it at all was difficult: the stern was heaving about 4 feet vertically in the waves. I tried taping a saw to the other boathook, but it was impossible to hold the line high enough to reach with the saw reliably, impossible to keep the saw in anything close to the same point on the rope. And then the boathook disappeared. I had been able to hold onto only the end grip when the stern rose to its height on a wave, finally the grip came loose from the pole and all I held in my hand was the grip. That eliminated the possibility of cutting the rope from onboard.

I had considered diving in to cut the line, the recommended method #2 if you cannot untangle it with a boathook from the deck. A fine idea on a calm and sunny day near shore, this presented a number of serious challenges on that morning: First, the water was 60 degrees and we had no wetsuit on board. Your ability to work in those conditions declines rapidly after only 5 minutes or so. Second, as soon as the line was cut, the boat would head downwind at 2 or 3 knots, faster than I would be able to swim after it. The line seemed to be tangled on the prop or saildrive so the motor might not be available; in any case we knew from the previous day that something was already wrapped on the prop and it was marginally functioning in the best case. That meant that Ann would have to do a man-overboard recovery under sail by herself. I put my own chances of successfully recovering a man overboard in those conditions with a crew and functioning engine at less than 50%, Ann had never sailed the boat by herself before so with no engine or other crew the chances of success seemed very small indeed. Third, the only way to re-board 'Anomaly' was to put the transom door down (a midships boarding ladder is designed, but not yet built); in the sea state present the pitching of the stern would make this a dangerous exercise even if the boat could be positioned for recovery. In summary diving in to cut the line seemed foolhardy. Nor did I think we would be able to launch the dinghy, from which the line might have been snagged and cut. That would require putting the transom door down and launching into the waves which were already breaking against the transom, occasionally with considerable force.

Sometime during these operations I called the Coast Guard to enquire about commercial towing services in the area. They contacted the BoatUS affiliate who said he was 35 miles and at least 4-5 hours away, assuming he could find a diver (which he somewhat doubted). He thought the cost would be at least $1000, possibly much more and no cap (my BoatUS membership would pay for the first $50...). I asked the Coast Guard for other services that might be closer, only one dive service was offered (and turned out to be a wrong number) along with the phone numbers to the harbormasters in the area who might be able to help. Calls to these numbers got only answering machines, it being early in the morning and after the season was essentially over. The wind continued to increase, and the forecast still called for gale force winds (35 knots or 40 mph) by noon.

Finally I called the boat yard that was to haul 'Anomaly', figuring that they might know someone in the area. To my surprise, they answered at 6:30 AM, were sympathetic to our plight, and started to organize a boat and diver to come out and help. This was a great relief, as other efforts seemed to be going nowhere. So we waited a while, and in thinking about what might be holding us I shifted the transmission to neutral. Normally it is kept in reverse while sailing to keep the propeller feathered and stopped. It occurred to me that if the buoy was stuck on the propeller or between the propeller and drive leg, perhaps letting it freewheel would allow it to unwind or unjam. When I did so, there was no perceptible change. However a few minutes later I noticed a change in the boat's motion, and going topsides saw that we were free and drifting ahull! It was now after 9 AM, we had been stuck on it for over 4 hours.

We were still in a sea of lobster pots and now drifting down on them, so I quickly set the mizzen to get some control over the boat, then started the engine. I tried a very momentary shift to forward and the prop seemed to be free to turn. Shifting into forward, we began to motor normally - in fact whatever had been tangled in the prop the day before now seemed to be gone. And so we motored towards Northeast harbor, altering course every 30 seconds or so with both of us spotting lobster buoys, often difficult to see in the rising seaway of whitecaps and breaking waves. The buoys continued for 10 miles, all the way into the harbor.

We finally tied up to the dock at Northeast Harbor Marina, and I went ashore to begin the customs clearing procedure, as we had come from Canada. The harbormaster said he was one of the ones called to come out and dive on the line but had declined, feeling it was too rough to be safe. It took a couple of hours for the customs man to drive from Bangor, but then we were cleared and back in the USA! Having arrived after the season rate change, the berth which would have cost $113/night only a week before was now just $24/night.

When the boat was hauled, it was very difficult to tell what had happened. There were some rope abrasion marks on the starboard side of the rudder but no obvious marks at all on the prop or saildrive, or on the leading edge of the keel. It is still a mystery how we were tangled, and why we came loose. There was a small bit of gill net wrapped on the hub, all that remained of whatever was picked up off of Nova Scotia. I have since learned of this device, and will be sure to have one in Maine. While this would result in the loss of the expensive trap, I no longer have any sympathy for lobstermen, they show a complete lack of restraint: we saw pots set all over harbor anchorages, within a boat length of docks, in the middle of buoyed channels, and often in large fields less than a boat length apart. Navigation at night or in bad weather is done at your peril, navigation even in good conditions requires constant weaving and vigilance. While they are entitled to make a living, they are not entitled to co-opt the ocean for their own exclusive use, which in effect is what has happened. I am told the density of pots has increased markedly in the last 5 years (there are now over 3 million of them in Maine according the the fisheries department). It is surprising that there is a lobster left on the bottom. In addition, I saw several lobster boats operating without courtesy or regard for anyone or anything. Leaving Northeast Harbor, I watched as two boats came by the No Wake buoy with sufficient speed nearly to swamp it. We experienced the wakes of their coming and going for several days in both Northeast Harbor and Somes Sound.

These rope abrasions in the paint are the only evidence of our "catch and release"

The Volvo saildrive leg and Autostream feathering prop. They appeared untouched by the lobster line.

'Anomaly' is currently on the hard in Somes Sound, Mt. Desert Island, Maine

10-4-10 Lunenburg

2010-10-21T23:25:00.001-04:00

Monday- crisp and sunny

Ann writes:

Needed an extra blanket to sleep well last night. Got into town around 9 am for a yummy blueberry tea biscuit at Sweet Indulgence. It was more like a fritter really. The have wireless internet and terrible, milky mocha's- the waitress tried really hard to make one and asked how it was, so I'm not sure what happened there.

We got to the Atlantic Fisheries Museum in time for the 10:30 Lobster Lore talk. I really enjoyed the young docent's presentation and even got to pet a very unhappy lobster. Amongst other things, I learned:

Lobsters can be any one of the 3 primary colors- yellow, blue, or the dominant red
Lobsters hate each other and fight constantly. The ones in the tank with the longest feelers are freshest because the feelers get bitten off
Boys have bigger claws, but girls have bigger tails (to carry the eggs), so choose according to which meat you prefer
Anything bigger than 2 lbs will be tough and more likely to be caught in fishnets than a lobster trap.
Rubbing a lobster on the head will calm him down.

We checked out all the outdoor boats on display and had a great conversation with the captain/docent on the Theresa E. Connor. He was from Jersey, which was one of the abandoned outports we saw across from Harbor Breton, Newfoundland. They had much less than Grand Bruit - no outhouses, pails for water, and a warm brick in bed for heat; much later a generator for the town that was started each evening and run until morning. His sailing career of 31 years was cut short by corporate buyout. He tried the Icehouse and Walmart before landing the job at the museum.

After Jon "launched" a schooner, we found the recommended Magnolia Grill with a line waiting for lunch. We finally both had the scaw-lup chowder and fishcakes. I decided they were ok, and more like fish than those at Fisherman's Friend, but I'd rather have straight fish. I imagine that wasn't a choice when they were devised by combining what fish they had with potatoes.

Jon from Napa and John from San Diego launch a schooner in Lunenburg

I zipped through the gift shops while Jon had his latte, but got hung up talking to artist Gail Patriarche. I couldn't believe she was working on a full sheet watercolor paper (300lb) with just a little grumbacher travel kit. She gets impressively rich color for a watercolorist- I wonder if it's because working from pans can lead to using more pigment and less water. She gave me some tips - strongly believes self learning from books is better than classes so that you can synthesize your own style from many artists, not just one teacher. I bought one of her prints to be mailed home. I noticed her bio says she uses Henemuhle w/c paper and Ultrachrome Inks - that means an Epson inkjet!

Later, Jon looked up giclee and it's just the French word for inkjet, spraying through nozzles, and was coined to distinguish from off-set lithography. AND, more importantly, the original giclees were printed on very expensive Iris printers with dye-based inks, whereas todays pigmented inks are far superior in quality. Bottom line: My prints are giclees!

(n.b. apparently have to use the term with some caution in France where the actual term, having to do with nozzles, has taken on an obscene meaning in some regions.)

We returned to the museum a lot later than intended, which meant, fortunately, I didn't have a lot of time to linger over the displays covering death at sea. The Bluenose history was much more inspiring and encouraging, and with that we finally sailed out of Lunenberg around 6:15 pm.

Jon writes:

We walked around town looking at the peculiar bay hip dormer that is called the "Lunenburg bump" by the real estate people here. There were a few in Mahone Bay but quite a lot in Lunenburg.

The distinctive Lunenburg Bump

The next two days were forecast to be winds from the northeast and then east at 20 - 25 knots, thereafter clocking around from the southwest and west at 35. The course is southwest down the coast of Nova Scotia, then turning the corner at Cape Sable west northwest to Mt. Desert Island. So it would be downwind to Maine for the next two days, but upwind for several days thereafter: a guarantee of a slow and uncomfortable sail. Based on that, we decided to leave Lunenburg just before sunset, sail through the next day and night which would have us arriving the 2nd morning if we could maintain about 6.5 knots average. This seemed preferable to sitting out another several days on the Nova Scotia coast waiting for better weather which might never come in October. So we slipped the mooring and left Lunenburg, hoisting sail just outside of the harbor and tacking into the southeast wind out to sea and towards the USA.

Leaving Lunenburg harbor, Maine lies 230 miles ahead

'Anomaly' is currently on the hard in Somes Sound, Mt. Desert Island, Maine

10-3-10 Mahone Bay to Lunenburg

2010-10-21T12:31:00.002-04:00

Sunday- Bright, cold sun

Ann writes:

A 3rd night in a row of not sleeping well- this time I was too cold. I had asked Jon to put the summer side of the travesac on the bed and of course, the weather changed, AGAIN.

The sun looks like blinding glitter on the water. We saw a seal and 2 harbor porpoises that were so close you could hear them almost snort as the exhaled upon surfacing. Around 11:30, an unnamed Nonsuch sailed by.

We arrived in Lunenburg around 1 pm. There is surprisingly little accommodation for recreational yachts in this town famous for it's shipbuilding history. We motored the length of the waterfront, and none of the floating docks that were advertised in the Waterfront Development brochure were there. We finally settled on the small Yacht Shop floating dock only to be told that it was scheduled to be removed at 8 am the next day (it was not). The Bluenose II reconstruction foundation now owns the property and wants everyone out due to liability concerns.

We walked up into town trying to find more info, but the Yacht Shop was closed on Sundays and the Excursion ticket office didn't know, but thought there might be a harbor masters office in the Atlantic Fisheries museum. The clerk at the museum was at least able to give us the harbor masters phone number, but even better, she paged one of the captains on staff at the museum. He came out presently and assured us that the moorings were the best way to go, so that's what we ended up doing.

He also recommended the Ice House or Dockside for food, so we tried the Ice house which is in the museum building. My scallops (pronounced scaw-lups in NS) and Jon's fish N chips were very good. They also had bottomless, unsweetened ice tea which is almost unheard of in Canada. Unfortunately, no expresso, so Jon had to wander about to find that elsewhere. I got really overheated with all my boat layers, and had to go back to the boat and change.

By the time we got the boat moved to a mooring, it was after 5 and although there were several streets to explore, only a few places were open. One place that is closed for the season is Laurie Swim's absolutely mind-blowing quilts. There were several shops carrying prints of her work showing Nova Scotia scenes. Unbelievable how she captures landscapes, sea and skies with fabric. Jenny's Jib is a shop also worth a visit with items not normally seen in the familiar tourist trade, like custom painted lamp shades.

Lunenburg Street Art - The Lunenburg Fish Project by Huck Fisher metalworks

We spent the rest of evening wandering around and viewing the old homes and their distinctive "Lunenburg bumps". Lunenberg is a designated UNESCO World Heritage Site due to it being a classic example of a historic British colony in North America and the care with which it has been preserved.

We tried to eat dinner at Dockside, but it appeared to have been taken over by a very large and noisy family, so we tried Banker's Grill instead which was very expensive for chowder and salad.

Jon writes:

We motored from Mahone Bay to Lunenburg in light wind, watching the tour excursion sailboats drift out of the bay.

Approaching Lunenburg

Here is the Bluenose II, undergoing restoration (remove old hull, install new hull...) though they will not let you near it.

The 'Bluenose II' undergoing deconstruction

We picked up a mooring after exploring the waterfront. The brochure handed to us in Halifax by the Waterfront Redevelopment manager showed a choice of floating docks, none of which are there anymore.

Panorama of the Lunenburg waterfront (click to expand)

'Anomaly' moored among the schooners, Lunenburg harbor

'Anomaly' is currently on the hard in Somes Sound, Mt. Desert Island, Maine

10-2-10 Exploring Mahone Bay

2010-10-20T01:24:00.001-04:00

Saturday- Pouring rain, sun, another squall

Ann writes:

Waited out the rain and then headed for the laundromat which was a real rip-off. The washers were $3 /load, and the attendant was very condescending, telling me how "commercial washers and dryers worked". The bottom line was he wanted us to load them less (and he'd get more $$) I felt like telling him I've been using commercial machines for the last 6 years, and they worked better for less money than his ratty old hardware. We had to sit there the whole time because he said he'd charge us even more money if he had to unload a machine to make room for someone else.

We treated ourselves to an excellent lunch at Mateus Bistro where I had the chicken caesar. The wind picked up making transit in the dinghy wet and unpleasant, but we unloaded the laundry and went back to get Jon a cinnamon biscuit and latte at Jo-Anns. That was the last biscuit, so I had to settle for the pumpkin muffin instead. I also sampled the oatcake which was not nearly as good as the other items.

JoAnn's Bake Shop, a fixture in Mahone Bay

I cooked rotelle arrabiata on board, and then we went back at 7pm for the pumpkin display. We could hear the celtic singer way out on our mooring in the bay. There were 150 pumpkins carved by only Jo-Ann and Linda with exquisite detail and grouped by themes- nautical, Picasso, churches, candles, flowers, cats, hearts. It was THE event of the week and packed like sardines with people of all ages and nationalities.

Nautical jack'o lanterns

A scary Starry Night

A homage to Pablo in squash

'Anomaly' is currently on the hard in Somes Sound, Mt. Desert Island, Maine

10-1-10 Chester to Mahone Bay

2010-10-19T11:47:00.000-04:00

Friday- Grey and foggy, humid fog, sun, then rain

Ann writes:

We had a rough night bobbing up and down like a cork on the mooring ball. Very few signs of life in Chester. We followed Captain Cheryl Barr's route in the Nova Scotia Cruising Guide past Indian Point. I tried to guess which house was hers. It was windy, but we didn't sail because there were a lot of rocks to avoid.

A modest cottage on a private island in Mahone Bay

The village of Mahone Bay looked more promising than Chester except for the zombies that appeared to be all over town. Once ashore, we discovered we had arrived during the annual Great Scarecrow Festival.

Three churches at the head of the harbor are Mahone Bay's postcard

We had a nice late breakfast at Eli's where I had a delicious smoked salmon omelette, but don't order the mochacino. It was so sugary I had to throw it out. Once fortified, we were able to cruise through all the shops, even the shoe store sale.

There were tourists all over town for the Scarecrow Festival

We hurried back to the boat around 3 because the weather looked really threatening, and we didn't want to get drenched in the dinghy, but it didn't start until 11 that night. I cooked dinner on board and spent the evening painting.

Jon writes:

We motored to the town of Mahone Bay and picked up a city mooring off the wharf. The town was having a festival going into the weekend and crowded with tourists - us among them. There turned out to be many famous residents of the town:

The Harem of Mahone Bay

The Witches of Mahone Bay

Alice's friends from Wonderland and the Looking Glass

Political Dignitaries

Many rock stars live there

Very nice local couple with colorful hairdoos

'Anomaly' is currently on the hard in Somes Sound, Mt. Desert Island, Maine

9-30-10 Halifax to Chester

2010-10-19T11:19:00.000-04:00

Thursday- Very foggy

Ann writes:

Today we saw 2 tunas jumping out of the water and 3 seals. It was extremely foggy when we left Halifax, and the Sambro Light disappeared into the fog. It was a white-out, so I went below to nap and still couldn't see anything when I came back on deck 2 hours later.

Finally around 3 pm, the fog was lifting from Mahone Bay and we could begin to see Little and big Tancock Island. There was a huge, unattractive motor yacht anchored near a large estate, and as we were watching, a helicopter landed on the deck. We snared a Chester Yacht Club mooring, but the yacht club was deserted when we went ashore. We walked around town, but almost by Jon's design, it was after 5 pm, so all the little shops were closed.

We had an excellent dinner at the Rope Loft- a delicious lobster bisque, and good medium-rare hamburger (it's difficult to get Canadians to cook hamburgers anything less than medium). We had the added bonus of watching the the last sailing race of the year finish right at the restaurant.

Jon writes:

We navigated out of Halifax by Braille, turned down the Sambro channel running buoy to buoy in the fog. I would not have attempted it without GPS and radar, unfamiliar as I was with the area and its currents & many rocks. The wind rose to 6 knots by 1115, so we put up the sails. 15 minutes later I handed them again, as the wind died to 3 knots and the slatting in the left over Atlantic swell was too annoying. Up again at 1300 with about 7 knots, and we sailed the rest of the way to Chester.

View from the helm leaving Halifax

What happens if you don't pay attention

Fog finally clearing over Sandy Cove Pt., Mahone Bay

We picked up a mooring at the yacht club, but the club and in fact the entire town of Chester seemed shut for the season. Good dinner at the Rope Loft watching "The Last Damn Race of the Season" (as it was billed). A bit of wind that night in the mooring field coming from the south made the dinghy ride to and from the dock a bit wet. It would have been much quieter in the back harbor which is better protected from all directions and just as close to town.

Moored off the deserted Chester Yacht Club

'Anomaly' is currently on the hard in Somes Sound, Mt. Desert Island, Maine

9-29-10 Making New Friends in Halifax

2010-10-19T01:02:00.001-04:00

Wednesday- Humid fog.

Ann writes:

Can't miss a morning at Starbucks if there's one nearby. The bona fide one on Sackville has free wireless, too. After catching up on email, I went to the Nova Scotia Art Museum. I especially liked the Folk Art Bird sculptures by Ralph Boutilier- they were built as whirligigs, but the bird images are strikingly real.

After tracking down the dahlia beds in the Public Gardens that I had missed the first time, I spent the afternoon gift shopping. Then we had a very nice visit from Jane & Jamie Morrison and Glen Brunt. They seemed to enjoy touring the boat, and they took us to dinner at the Royal Nova Scotia Yacht Squadron where we met up with Glen's wife Deb. I thought the food was quite good, and we found out that Jamie and Jane were Apple fans too, having been in the desktop publishing business from the very beginning.

There was a terrible Bob Dylan wanna-bee wailing on the dock when we got back. Fortunately he stopped singing at 11 pm.

Jon writes:

Great dinner at the RNSYS, and great to meet face-to-face long time fellow Nonsuch owners. Glen and Deb keep their boat in Mahone Bay are were able to give us some up to date information for the area.

A cormorant dries and stretches in preparation for another day of boat sullying

'Anomaly' berthed with the HMCS Corvette 'Sackville'

'Anomaly' is currently on the hard in Somes Sound, Mount Desert Island, Maine

9-28-10 More Halifax

2010-10-16T13:17:00.000-04:00

Tuesday- Foggy

Ann writes:

We had a good breakfast at Perk's especially if you like strongly maple-flavored bacon. Jon led onwards to the Starbucks in the nearby Marriott, but as with the habit of Starbucks in hotels, there the wireless internet was not free.

Halifax has all kinds of things to do and explore. I overheard that there are 5 universities and 7 colleges here, so there is a youthful quality to the venues.

The maritime museum was packed with tourists just off the bus, so we decided to come back later for FREE admission on Tuesdays after 5:30. Instead I dragged Jon into the Dancing Beaver where I found amazing watercolors by Inae Kim and Julie Wilson. Kim's 'Snow on the Lake' is pretty amazing for a watercolor.

We did some provisioning at Pete's on Dresden where we found big chunks of Cows Cheddar as the clerk in the Cows ice cream shop had advised. I grabbed an avocado sushi and continued on my own to find Atlantic News which did have Kerry Brown's notecard "Elsie" I let her know by email, however, that they didn't have the "full selection" of her cards as she had believed. The Nova Scotia Liquor Store had Bailey Irish cream for about 50% more than the U.S.

I had a sugar and cinnamon Beaver Tail, really a cross between a donut and a waffle. There had been a booth in Tobermory last year, but it was closed for the season, so I wanted to try one. Later I cooked an early pasta dinner before we visited the Maritime Museum. I could have spent more time there, but we went on to the Shakespeare performance. The pair playing Juliet and Romeo were very good, and the overall performance was just a bit rushed and uneven, but we enjoyed it nonetheless.

It makes me appreciate the quality of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, even tho' I'm not very happy with them at the moment. Every year at about this time, they start calling non-stop- I'm sure to ask me to renew or some such stupid thing, and I find this incredibly annoying. First of all, I'm out of the country, so it costs me $$ to pick up that call. I don't like unsolicited phone calls in any case, and I even emailed subscriber services where they promised to mark my file as such. However, the phone calls have continued, and I'm considering dropping my subscription altogether.

This is the only moose we saw in all of Canada

'Anomaly' is currently on the hard in Somes Sound, Mt. Desert Island, Maine

9-27-10 Halifax does not disappoint.

2010-10-16T13:14:00.002-04:00

Monday- brisk and sunny

Ann writes:

We found a Starbucks before we even expected one on Sackville, but first we got tickets to the production of Rome & Juliet at the Neptune Theater.

Halifax waterfront in the backgound

After grabbing a real mocha buried in Canadian whipped cream (yum!), we explored Arglye, the Paperchase news store, and the shops on Spring Garden Road. I took Jon's picture at the 1 Starbucks Jon didn't visit the entire time we were in Halifax

Civilization!

The entrance to the Public Gardens is at the end of Spring Garden road. The garden is a lovely tranquil place with many beautiful trees, flower beds, a lake and the biggest, fattest geese I have ever seen. The two Toulouse Dewlapped Geese, Finnegan (male) and Flora (female)", are so fat they have huge double chins and their bellies drag on the ground.

A well fed goose

On the other side of the garden is the Halifax Citidel, and we showed up just in time for the 12:30 tour in english, which I insisted we follow over Jon's protests of starvation. Our tour was led by an excellent guide who said he was one of the supervisors.

We learned:

Kilts differ from skirts in that you wear something under a skirt.
There are 4 seasons in Halifax- Almost winter, Winter, Still Winter and Road Work
Pigeons are really day bats.

Standing guard at the Citadel in kilts

Finally had lunch at Q, a BBQ place that was not great- strange gravy on the brisket. We went back to move the boat to a hopefully less bouncy spot on Sackville landing which turned out to still be subject to incoming wakes and waves. On the way, I stopped to talk to artist Don Manning who gave me lots of tips, including that DeSerres art store is just a few blocks away. I bought some of his bookmarks and notecards of harbor scenes.

As soon as we were settled again, I dragged Jon off to see tugboat Theodore II- it's just soooo cute!

We explored the shops beyond the ferry bldg. then went back to The Lower Deck for a bowl of seafood chowder and the blueberry grunt, which still turned out to be too much food. I guessed it's called a grunt because you feel like a pig after eating it!

However, as borrowed liberally from King Arther Flour:

First you take a quart of blueberries (Cape Cod aside, wild blueberries grow in profusion on low, scrubby bushes scattered over rather barren land in Maine and all over the Northeast; the tiny tart ones from Maine are by far the most famous.)... preferably, tart Maine blueberries, stir in some sugar and water and put them in an iron spider (a cast iron skillet) or casserole dish that can sit on a burner. (Grunts used to be cooked in an open cast iron Dutch oven over the coals of a fire.) Then you top the berries with blobs of biscuit dough and let it cook very slowly.

As the concoction begins to heat, bubbles slowly work their way up from the bottom of the pot to break through the biscuit dough topping. The small snufflings you hear from the pot on top of the stove today probably sounded like a significant grunting of pigs in the huge cast iron pots that were used 300 years ago.

Jon writes:

After exploring the possibilities, we moved three blocks downtown to the Pilotage Wharf, a bit quieter both on land and sea, and almost no seagulls. Just the Pilot boats coming and going at all hours. We were again among civilization, for the first time in nearly a month - there were 3 Starbucks within walking distance!

Three blocks down at Pilotage Wharf - no seagulls and still downtown

'Anomaly' is currently on the hard in Somes Sound, Mt. Desert Island, Maine

9-26-10 Halifax lifts our spirits

2010-10-16T13:12:00.001-04:00

Sunday- Another gloomy day in Liscomb. I'm sure it's very nice in better weather, but I will always remember it as a camera eater.

Ann writes:

I think we both were very happy to see Halifax. I don't normally think of myself as a city girl, but the first sign of real civilization since Charlottetown was very encouraging. There were all kinds of interesting things to look at, and even the sun came out.

It was pretty dark by the time we got settled right next to Murphy's on Cable Wharf, so we popped right up for a nice chowder and I had the lobster wrap which was fairly good, although we continue to marvel at how much Canadian restaurant food costs.

Jon writes:

Motored out of liscomb river and were able to raise sail in the bay and sail all the way to Halifax, ghosting into the harbor on a dying breeze.

Entering Halifax harbor on a dying breeze

On the way I was able to call the waterfront harbormaster and determine that there was dockage available on the downtown waterfront. The alternative was the Northwest Arm of the bay, most of the yacht clubs are here but it is some distance from downtown. We struck sail in front of Cable Wharf downtown, tied to the float and walked up to Murphy's restaurant built on the wharf. The good news about the waterfront berth is you are right downtown in a compact, walkable provincial capitol city (in this respect it was similar to Quebec City and Charlottetown). The bad news is that it is quite busy with cruise boat tourists, street musicians and the like; and not well protected from the surge working into the harbor from the sea as well as the many wakes from ferries and shipping that run all night. The particular case of Cable Wharf also had a plethora of seagulls, with their associated detritus.

Murphy's Cable Wharf on the Halifax waterfront - dinner was not far away!

'Anomaly' is center frame on Cable Wharf, from the Citadel

'Anomaly' is currently on the hard in Somes Sound, Mt. Desert Island, Maine

9-25 Bad day for Ann

2010-10-16T12:40:00.000-04:00

Saturday- rain, fog, drizzle, showers, no sun

Ann writes:

I had to cook breakfast since the Lodge didn't have any reasonable breakfast items. They seemed to be more set up with buffets for conferences with little to offer individuals at a reasonable price.

By noon, it looked less drizzly so we decided to hike the Liscombe trail. This turned out to be a bad mistake for me. They blamed the trail condition on the recent hurricane, but I don't think you can fix slippery rocks, tree limbs and bogs. Every 10th step was a real struggle over the 6 mile course that was advertised as 4. My ankles started to give way after 3 1/2 hours and I just wanted to get out of there. Finally, I really whacked my head on a tree branch, and I must have brushed against something else because the next time I took my camera out, the LCD screen was broken. The camera actually still works, but you can't see what you're aiming at, or any of the controls since everything uses that screen. What a bonehead thing to do; I am so upset! I just want to go home...

Jon on the suspension bridge before Ann broke her camera

The tree on the trail that did Ann in

Jon writes:

The trail started out for the first 2 miles as a smooth graveled path, then suddenly decayed into a scramble over roots, slippery rocks, downed trees, and bogs. And of course half way through it began to rain. It was a pretty place though, and would have been much more so in the sun, I'm sure.

Liscomb River at the Lodge

Beautiful trail - for 1.5 miles or so!

Trail? Actually, much better than bush whacking, but not a stroll, either...

The cascade of dark tea water at the top of the trail

I guess it wouldn't be Nova Scotia without a little moisture?

'Anomaly' is currently on the hard in Somes Sound, Mt. Desert Island, Maine

9-24 Country Harbour to Liscombe Mills

2010-10-08T23:03:00.002-04:00

Friday- grey drizzle, cool and wet.

Ann writes:

I'm still dozing a lot; I don't see how I can sleep so much. Maybe the drugs are still in my system. The only points of interest were the Cranberry Point Lighthouse that has a strangely shaped outbuilding next to it, and the bald eagle we disturbed in the channel on the way in. We arrived at Liscomb Lodge marina around 3, and Chester answered the radio and came to help us tie up. Said he'd worked there 33 years.

Liscomb Light at Cranberry Point on Liscomb Island

We tried to warm up with specialty coffees in the lounge. There was no fireplace and 2 drinks were over $20. Dinner later was very expensive and Jon's planked salmon was dry. My Digby scallops were good, but the chive risotto was a bit undercooked and tasteless. I'd recommend the blueberry crumble over the chocolate trio.

It's quite wet and grey which doesn't help the ambiance. The river is nice even though the organic matter gives it quite a tawny brown appearance. Liscombe Lodge has a large building with hotel style rooms, but I'd go for the little cabins along the river if I had to pick. They're really cosy looking and it looks like each one has it's own fireplace.

Jon on lawns sloping down to Liscomb River

Ann admiring the hydrangeas

BTW- this area can't seem to agree whether the spelling is Liscomb or Liscombe.

Jon writes:

After weighing anchor and getting the thick mud washed off the anchor and chain, we began motoring in light winds down the coast 30 miles to Liscomb. The Liscomb Lodge is about 8 miles up the harbor and river, and is a large hotel and conference center run by the province of Nova Scotia. The channel is narrow but marked, and we arrived at a somewhat ramshackle dock wondering if that was really it. But Chester, the marina manager for 30 years answered on VHF to say go ahead and tie up, just don't tie to the Hurricane Earl damaged bits. We were the only one there in what is supposed to be a very popular spot. You get the run of the resort (hiking trails, indoor pool, etc.) included in your $40 berthing fee. We ate at the restaurant famed for its cedar planked salmon (perhaps living on its reputation?).

View of 'Anomaly' in the Liscomb River from the restaurant deck

If you were looking for a secluded quiet week in the woods, this might be a good place. The setting is beautiful and the cabins are oh-so-cute.

'Anomaly' is currently lying Northeast Harbor, Mount Desert Island, Maine

9-23-10 Sailing the Atlantic

2010-10-08T22:47:00.001-04:00

Thursday- partly sunny and breezy

Ann writes:

St. Peter's Bay- Anomaly enters the Atlantic ocean

Got up at first light to leave early, but a fellow came by to chat so we didn't leave until 7:40. Today we had the wonderful experience of 2 dolphins playing in the bow wave. They kept leaping from side to side in front of the boat. The conditions were so rough I couldn't get high enough to see them very well, but Jon got a good view. Then they were gone.

The rest of the day wasn't very pleasant. I got feeling fairly ill. Had to take a meclizine, then I was a zombie the rest of the day. Slept most of the time from noon on. I didn't really care for Isaac's Harbour aside from the lighthouse. It didn't seem particularly picturesque from the water.

Isaac's Harbour Light

Jon writes:

It was pretty rough crossing Chedabucto Bay which along with the Canso Strait divides Cape Breton Island from Nova Scotia to the south. The wind had shifted to the northwest at about 20 knots, and we were sailing south and then southwest. Normally this would mean good and fast sailing, reaching and broad reaching with the wind coming off of the land. But in the open water of Chedabucto Bay, there was a swell from the southwest left over from the strong southwest wind of the last two days, and we were sailing directly into it at 7 or 8 knots under double reefed main and single reefed mizzen. When we finally got under the lee of the Nova Scotia shore it calmed down a little, and by 5:30 we were anchored in Webbs Cove off of Isaacs Harbor, itself a branch off of Country Harbor. The cove is not particularly sheltered from a northwest wind, but it had moderated considerably by then.

'Anomaly' is currently lying Northeast Harbor, Mount Desert Island, Maine

9-22-10 Last day in St. Peter's

2010-10-08T22:20:00.000-04:00

Wednesday- Clear and starry late last night, but disappointingly grey this morning.

Ann writes:

Got a quick bite at Tim Hortons before visiting Foodland for provisions. I just can't believe the constant line of cars in Tim's drive-thru. I wonder if an alternative coffee place could make it in this town; I sure hope Greg tries it. The Foodland people were great and gave me a ride back to the marina. I worked on my art bio and the NVAA website.

Jon realized the cruising guide didn't have the correct canal/lock operation hours, so at 3 pm, we motored down and passed through to the Atlantic side. Visitors to the park were taking pictures and enjoying seeing the lock operate. The lock operators seemed happy to see us too, said it was very slow this time of year.

Entering St. Peter's Canal - lakes side

Our new spot put us a lot closer to the beach which I then spent an hour or so beachcombing. The periwinkle-like shells are longer and more elegant looking, there were some oddly shaped scallop-like shells (note: later learned this was an Atlantic Slipper Shell- crepidula fornicata), and lots of "undeveloped" sea glass. Dinner was at the Bra D'Or Lakes Inn for another great meal: my pasta special had oyster mushrooms and rock crab with an incredible flavor and Jon enjoyed his prix fixe peppercorn steak. I shouldn't have had the bread pudding for dessert since I'd started with the rich creamy chowder.

I also really enjoyed the art on the walls. I'm fascinated with an artist who renders sailing scenes in such a minimalist way that is quite striking. They seem to have so little detail and yet they really "read" from a distance. Unfortunately neither of us could read the signature on the 2 pieces I saw there.

Jon writes:

It seemed enough time to make the run from St. Peters to Webbs Cove in Isaacs Harbor by leaving in the morning and getting the first passage through the St. Peters lock at 7 AM. This lock controls the tide through the channel blasted in the narrow isthmus at the south end of the Bra d'Or. However the marina manager mentioned in passing that the lock would not open until 8, and would be closing at 4 that day with the last passage at 3:30 (because the bridge would have to be opened for us) and that produced the possibility of arriving at Webbs Cove after dark. So we hurriedly readied 'Anomaly' to pass through the lock, that we might stay overnight on the Atlantic side and leave early the next day. The lock passage was easy as it only drops or rises a few feet, compensating for the state of tide in the ocean verses the lake. We tied to the wall and spent the evening watching the fisherman fishing in the lock and channel well into the night.

Ann is now an expert line handler in the locks

9-21, Windy Day in St. Peter's

2010-10-08T22:16:00.000-04:00

Tuesday- Windy with gusts to at least 34 kts

Ann writes:

Did not sleep well due to all the marina noises last night; We aren't aligned well for the wind direction and s'ones roller furling jib is coming undone too. Too bad we aren't seeing St. Peter's at it's best; even the birds have disappeared.

Wasn't too bad walking around as long as I bundled up. Jon wanted to get lunch at the Bras D'Or Lakes Inn, but they only serve dinner this time of year.

Bras D'Or Lakes Inn

We continued on and had a nice walk down the canal, along the Atlantic shore and back around into town. Ended up at MacBouche again for Toasted Western sandwich. Very expensive for what it was.

Greg and Dawn drove us to Art and Karen Digout's home for dinner where Kathy and Bob also joined us. Bob was full of stories of sailing all over the world in their self built junk rigged 'Easy Go', usually without an engine or power. Karen's cooking was delicious and Jon even ate her eggplant parmesan which he wouldn't touch at home. I scored her Lemon Mousse recipe. We talked until almost midnight.

'Anomaly' is currently lying Northeast Harbor, Mount Desert Island, Maine

9-20-10 Rainy day in St. Peter's

2010-10-08T22:13:00.001-04:00

Monday- another rainstorm

Ann writes:

Very good internet connection here so I worked on the blog all morning. Jon communicated with a mink on the dock, then went for propane with Greg Silver (thanks Greg!) while I cleaned up the boat a bit. We had lunch of fish & chips @ Mac Bouche with friendly service but unremarkable food. I painted a bit in the afternoon.

Greg and Dawn stopped by the boat and Jon embarrassed me by giving them the "full monty" slideshow on both the boat AND the house. They were polite enough not to yawn.

We had an annoying experience with CBS trying to download episodes of Craig Ferguson; it either said "that selection not available in your geographical area", or a really inane add by Nintendo would come up finally followed by just a small clip from one of his monologues. Maddening. I will never buy Nintendo product for sure, now.

St Peter's sunset

'Anomaly' is currently lying Northeast Harbor, Mount Desert Island, Maine

9-19-10 Crammond Islands to St Peter Island

2010-10-08T22:11:00.001-04:00

Sunday- Mostly cloudy with occasional bursts of sun

Ann writes:

We spent the morning exploring the Crammond Islands, exploring the different depth in the dinghy and walking along the rocky shore a bit. There were some great flat rocks for skipping on the water.

We had a nice sail from there up St. Peter's Inlet, although it was a little chilly. We saw Greg Silver's nonsuch 26 Misty Cat as we tacked up St. Peter's Inlet.

Dawn took this photo of Anomaly as Misty Cat went by.

Jon also recognized Easy Go, the non-powered junk-rigged schooner that he'd read about when searching for news of Hurricane Earl from Newfoundland. Gerry ("I'm always good") cheerfully caught our lines at the fuel dock at the St. Peter's Marina, and I got some great photo's of a Heron fishing for his supper.

Heron with fish

We walked up to town hoping to find coffee shop, but I'm sorry to say the town had a very sad appearance at this hour- An abandoned gas station, a few unpromising looking eating establishments, Foodland, Home Hardware, and a Tim Hortons.

Greg Silver's home was a great contrast- what a lovely home in a great location complete with 2 cozy cats. Greg graciously entertained us, and also drove us to the Bras D'Or Lakes Inn which serves 1st class cuisine, some of the best we've had in Altantic Canada.

Greg has a great home and a little harbor for his Nonsuch too

Jon writes:

After a pleasant morning we weighed anchor and headed to St. Peters. A breeze sprang up and we were able to raise sail and navigate the torturous channel into the bay under sail. Part way in we saw the Nonsuch "Misty Cat" owned by Greg Silver of St. Peters. We were directed to the fuel dock at the marina by Gerry, the gregarious marina manager and pulled alongside. Expecting rain, we carried our umbrellas into town to explore, and sure enough the rain came.

St. Peters seemed slightly smaller than Baddeck, and differs from Baddeck in existing more for the residents than the tourists. The marina is quite nice, but situated a bit further from a town where there are far fewer restaurants and trinket boutiques (and no espresso shop….).

Reflections on a calm Crammond Island morning

'Anomaly' is currently lying Northeast Harbor, Mount Desert Island, Maine

9/18 Crammond Islands in the West Bay

2010-09-28T07:55:00.001-04:00

Saturday- Clear and sunny, smooth then a bit breezy

Ann writes:

A great day for birdwatchng. The Bald Eagles were catching thermals until they were almost out of sight and then taking off for other destinations, just like Jon when he flies his glider cross-country. I saw 5 Great Blue Herons by the Smokehouse, 4 Cormorants, 3 Bald Eagles, 2 jelleyfish and an eastern Blue Jay, all before lunch.

We had our best lunch in Canada at the Cape Breton Smokehouse- this time we both went for the smoked salmon plate which included the dense, nutty german bread, hardboiled egg, red onions, creamy horseradish and classical music in the huge log dining room overlooking the sparkly bay. We were the only ones in the room for most of the meal. The captain/cook came out and helped Jon get the internet weather forecast on his laptop, and they showed us their Nova Scotia cruising guides that seem to be out of print now. They had several that Jon was unable to find.

The anchor was slow in coming up, absolutely caked with mud, but I enjoyed the Bald Eagle circling overhead. Our first stop was Clarks Cove and Marble Mountain. The "white chip marble beach" wasn't quite as white as we imagined, nor the water a blue as described, and it was filled with thousands of nasty looking little orange jelley fish that the locals assured us were harmless. We anchored long enough to explore the beach and inspect the work being done on the public wharf.

Our anchorage for the night was difficult in the Crammond Islands due to great depth near shore and mosquitoes; 3 more bites on my hand. I had to slather DEET all over me, but it was all made up for by the bald eagle perched on a nearby tree. He was really comical. The eagle was so big he bent the tip of the evergreen over and was awkwardly holding on with his golden talons. You could clearly see his golden beak on his magnificent white head, although in flight I've noticed that you see the white tail first.

Jon writes:

The day started calm and clear. Having no particular reason to leave early, we waited until noon and went ashore to the Smoke House again, this time both ordering the smoked salmon platter. Again very simply and perfectly prepared, beautifully arranged and presented on the plate. After lunch the proprietor came by with his laptop to show us the weather report: fortunately it looked as though Hurricane Igor would be passing well to the east. Good for us, not so good for Bermuda. I was also happy not to be in eastern Newfoundland still.

In calm conditions we motored to the white marble beach at Clarke Cove and anchored a few feet off the wharf for lunch. We weighed anchor and proceeded to the Crammond islands further down the West Bay of the Bras d'Or. The channel between the two islands creates a sheltered cove and though we found the water to be fairly deep throughout, we managed to anchor in 25 feet for the night. A bald eagle greeted us on the way in, perched in the tip of a fir rather unsuited for his weight.

Too big for his perch

The bald eagle contemplates 'Anomaly'

Ann contemplates the bald eagle, now a few trees further off

'Anomaly' is currently lying Pilotage Wharf, Halifax, Nova Scotia

9/17/10 Rain...

2010-09-27T21:21:00.001-04:00

Friday: Rain from from 5 am to 9 pm and then some.

Ann writes:

An incredible amount of precipitation.

Happy with organizing photos and painting Kidston Lighthouse, but gloomy heavy rain ruined plans to visit other anchorages and the Smokehouse again, and certainly no birdwatching other than a cormorant on a mooring buoy.

9/16/10- A rough day for Jon

2010-09-27T20:55:00.001-04:00

Thursday - grey drizzle

Anomaly in the "rare" fog of Baddeck

Ann writes:

After a bagel and espresso at Been There, Jon discovered that the auto-pilot head died again. We would have to delay our departure in an effort to revive it. I'll let him give you the details.

Not quite Starbucks

By 3:30, we decided to depart with no auto-pilot controls- the auto-pilot itself is working, but you can't adjust any of the settings. I suggested to Jon that he make a proposal to Raymarine that he go and fix all this buggy equipment that they are producing. There are a lot of "features" that just shouldn't be in equipment of this caliber!

The sun was peaking through, but the weather quickly deteriorated into steady rain and poor visibility. We passed through the Barra Strait Bascule-type bridge during a dry patch, but soon both retreated below for a time. Passing through another narrow entrance, this time to Little Harbour, we disturbed a Bald Eagle and 2 Gr. Blue Herons. The warm light from the windows of the German-run Cape Breton Smokehouse was a beacon in the grey dusk. We bundled into the dinghy and I struggled onto the high dock in full rain gear. There were only 2 other parties in the dining room, both german speaking. We proceeded to have a delicious dinner of Smoked Salmon appetizer followed by my tender grilled stiploin with garlic butter while Jon had a moist cajun salmon and 1/2 a head of cauliflower. The hostess could see Jon was not eating the cauliflower and asked if he needed more butter! She talked a long time to everyone in the restaurant. Though it was difficult to communicate, we managed to learn that the large ketch in the harbor, Nessie of the 7 Seas, is theirs and up for sale. She sounded sad to sell it, but it's a great ocean going yacht and not much of a daysailer.

Jon writes a rant:

Intending to leave just after espresso, I switched on the instrument system only to observe that the Raymarine ST70 Autopilot head had failed in exactly the same manner as last month in Cap a l'Aigle: splash screen, then nothing. Since we had both internet access and cell phone service at the dock, I began an effort to get it replaced prior to our leaving the Bras d'Or. The service technician at Raymarine's Canadian representatives wanted me to attempt to reflash the software, and so we waited until nearly 3 PM for the emailed file to arrive. By this time the weather was threatening, but we set out anyway towards a dark sky in the south.

Soon it was raining, and beginning to blow directly (as always?) from the direction of intended travel, and now time was short to arrive at the reportedly narrow entrance to Little Harbor. So we motored into it as the rain began to come down in sheets. I soon had quite enough of it, and began to hide in the companionway to keep the rain from stinging my eyes, navigating by looking at the nav station chartplotter below and steering the boat using the autopilot remote control. This control allows us to engage the autopilot even though the normal display head is broken, the caveat being that one cannot adjust the "response" setting and so the autopilot saws the wheel back and forth in a mad and frenetic attempt to keep the boat exactly on assigned course when a variance of one or two degrees would be perfectly acceptable with only 1/10th of the steering action. However Raymarine has seen fit to reset this response setting every time the autopilot is powered up, and requires a working display head to adjust it down, the same display head that had failed twice in a month.

And so we motored in rain, fog, headwinds and a nasty short chop through the various islands and shoals towards Little Harbor. The entrance was narrow, but deep right in the middle and we were able to drive in and anchor close to the southwestern shore. The harbor is quite sheltered and the anchor seemed well set, so even though the rain continued I decided to launch the dinghy and see if we could land at The Smoke House, which was the reason for coming here. We did not even know if they were still open for the season. The Smoke House was offered up by several people we had met along the way as something not to miss. Run by a German couple, it features smoked salmon (and other) dishes served in a finely finished log structure. We landed the dinghy on their wharf (still wearing full foul weather gear) and walked up the lit path (it was by now dark) and into a beautiful log building cozily heated by a large stone fireplace. Yes they were open for dinner, have a seat.

We quickly noticed that there were only two other tables occupied, and that we were the only non-German speaking people in the restaurant. We ordered and were presented with perfectly prepared food artfully presented, a stunning contrast from the deep fat fried food in Newfoundland and even the unremarkable restaurants in the tourist haven of Baddeck. All prepared and served by the couple who had sailed the large steel ketch anchored in the harbor from Europe and built the log restaurant by hand.

The following day it blew hard and rained continuously, simply a miserable day to go anywhere, so we stayed below. I used the time to reprogram all of the Raymarine instruments with the latest software, this experience similar to a Microsoft Windows update complete with stone age user interface and false error reports (written instructions: "ignore the error message which will report failure half way through…."). Then a couple of hours of fiddling to recover all of the settings lost in the process.

'Nessie of the Seven Seas' anchored in front of the Smoke House restaurant on a nicer day

'Anomaly' is currently lying Pilotage Wharf, Halifax, Nova Scotia

9/15- Exploring Baddeck

2010-09-27T20:20:00.001-04:00

Wednesday, Bright and Sunny with late afternoon showers

Ann writes:

We strolled down Chebucto Street to the Highwheeler cafe/deli/bakery for breakfast only to be told by the snippy young waitress that "we don't do scrambled eggs, we only flip 'em". Somewhat taken aback, we went on to the Village Kitchen which apparently is owned by a late riser: closed at 9 am. So we went on to have a very nice breakfast at the Yellow Cello Cafe where they cheerfully prepare the eggs any way you like, the breakfast was excellent and a good value too.

Kidston Lighthouse, Ann Nunziata 2010

Jon had to get his espresso at Bean There where they also have very rich sour cream cinnamon muffins. We returned to Highwheeler for their cinnamon twists which , according to Jon, are similar to but not quite as good as my mother's roll ups.

We spent the rest of the morning at the Alexander Graham Bell Heritage center which is a really fascinating look at this brilliant inventors life.

The estate of Alexander Graham Bell is not open to the public

For lunch, we discovered the touristy-looking Bell Buoy restaurant actually prepares very good food, although my lobster sandwich wasn't quite as good as the one I had at Covehead, PEI. We did some provisioning at the Co-op, and by the time we were done the beautiful day had gotten quite dark and we had several hours of rain. Jon chose this inopportune time to wash the boat and got soaked himself. I explored the local stores which were fairly full of tourist trinkets with a strong emphasis on the Gaelic heritage of the area. I especially enjoyed Baddeck Celtic Gifts and Tartans and the Water's Edge Gallery and Inn. The latter was almost like an artists co-op with works from numerous local artists, including my favorite, Kerry Brown.

We walked through more rain to bell Buoy for dinner where we had very good fish and; chips with strawberry rhubarb crumble for dessert.

Jon writes:

Quite a nice rainbow to brighten an otherwise drippy day. I started washing the boat and was soon washing in a downpour, but kept going anyway - lots of salt to wash off from Newfoundland. The rainbow was actually a rather spectacular double rainbow, but I cannot get my pictures of it to assemble correctly, so this one will have do:

Slightly distorted due to pano effects, a rainbow encircles 'Anomaly'

'Anomaly' is currently lying Pilotage Wharf, Halifax, Nova Scotia

9-14 Rainy Nova Scotia- Ingonish to Baddeck

2010-09-21T10:38:00.000-04:00

Tuesday- Mostly cloudy turning to grey drizzle.

Ann writes:

Everywhere we go now, the story is the same: locals claim that Hurricane Earle changed the weather like a light switch. Hot and sunny before Earle; cold and rainy afterward. Some even claim that the hurricane's salt spray killed all the leaves before they could gain their wonderful fall color, so we may not see any this fall.

We slipped past the narrow entrance to Ingonish Bay around 9:45.

Will Anomaly squeeze through?!

Anyway, the tiny bit of sun quickly disappeared and after sighting a few seals, we plunged into drizzle which continued unpleasantly until we got a ways down the Greater Bras d'Or Channel. The weather improved a bit and we had a nice trip down the channel and finally into Baddeck about 4:30. Two staff members welcomed us onto the dock of Baddeck Marine.

Approaching Baddeck

Baddeck!
Finally a town ready for tourists. Lots of cute shops and even a coffee shop for Jon. We had a great Roast Turkey dinner at the Telegraph House which interestingly is owned and operated by fourth and fifth generations of the Dunlop Family- any relation David?. It was also great to be in a real Marina where we could have a nice hot shower, our first real showers since Port aux Basque 2 weeks ago!

Jon writes:

We left Ingonish in grey weather and threatening rain. The forecast southwest 10-15 never appeared and though I optimistically set the main when it rose to 7 knots from the northeast, I took it down awhile later in 2-3 as we approached the Great Bras d'Or channel. The Bras d'Or lakes occupy nearly 500 sq miles of the interior of Cape Breton island and are really a bay off the Atlantic with two very narrow entrances at the north end - the Great and Little Bras d'Or channels. The Little one has been blocked (for sailboats) by a fixed bridge, but the Great is navigable. It narrows to less than 1000 ft wide at the entrance which limits the tidal range inside the lakes: even with a current of 6 knots flowing through the channel at peak ebb, not much water can leave! There is a very narrow isthmus at the south end and the St. Peter's canal has been blasted through it to allow small craft to enter and leave to the south. There is a tidal lock in the canal to compensate for the difference between lake level and ocean level, but the rise or fall is only a few feet.

The Bras d'Or Lakes on Cape Breton Island and our route to Baddeck (click to expand)

We motored down the Great Bras d'Or channel and into Baddeck, passing Alexander Graham Bell's grand estate on Red Head. He spent his summers here and ran many of his experiments on aircraft and hydrofoil boats out on the lake.

Alec Bell's estate on Red Head near Baddeck

In Baddeck was the first espresso shop we had seen since Charlottetown. It is the influence of the many New England tourists that populate the town all summer. There was also food here that wasn't deep fried, again a first since Charlottetown. What there was not, was propane. You could exchange a standard 20 lb barbecue tank, but had to drive to Sydney to get your own filled. We are told this might be possible in St. Peter's.

9-13 Goodbye Newfoundland: Rose Blanche to Ingonish, Nova Scotia

2010-09-21T10:32:00.000-04:00

Monday- a very cold starry night

Ann writes:

We made it out of Rose Blanche harbor by 4:26 AM, actually 30 minutes earlier since Nova Scotia is Atlantic time zone. I lasted only an hour in the cockpit; I just wasn't dressed warmly enough to withstand the wind from the East. Later, it was mostly cloudy, but occasional sun kept it tolerable.

Around noon, I was able to keep watch while Jon got a little rest, and of course that's when I saw our only wildlife of the day- 2 pilot whales and a leatherback turtle!

It seemed warmer near Nova Scotia, but then it was bitter cold after we arrived in Ingonish Bay.

We anchored since it was too crowded at the public wharf

Jon writes:

The harbor entrance at South Ingonish bay was described as "extremely narrow" and should not be entered at night, so in order to make the 90 miles in daylight we had to leave Rose Blanche at 4 AM. This is easily done in these days of GPS and radar, and with 15 knots of north east wind we could have sailed. But it is very difficult to raise the sail in the dark as one cannot see to clear the battens from the lazyjacks (the batten make corners on the trailing edge of the sail which catch on the lazyjacks - these are lines designed to contain the sail on its way down). So I motored for a couple of hours until daybreak, then set the full main and mizzen. We were able to sail until about 11, when the wind softened to 6 or 7 knots. Downwind, combined with nearly a knot of foul current, this was not going to get us into Ingonish in daylight, and we ended up motorsailing the rest of the way.

And it was a narrow entrance! The last red and green buoys (you steer between them) seemed to be only 25 feet apart, the rocks on either side encouraging you to respect their meaning.

Landfall at Cape Smokey, Nova Scotia

The ski resort at South Ingonish Harbor

9/12/10: Waiting for calmer seas in Rose Blanche

2010-09-21T09:53:00.000-04:00

Sunday, sunny and windy and not much to cold front other than name: COLD!

Ann writes:

During our boat-made mocha's and cinnamon rolls, we were treated to a carillon (bell) concert, presumably from the local Church, although I was surprised to hear Anchors Aweigh which Americans will recognize as the fight song of the US Naval Academy.

After lunch @ Fisherman's Friend of crispy chicken caesar salad, we walked down main street and took more photos of the picturesque village.

Anomaly's 2nd visit to Rose Blanche

Looking out towards the Lighthouse

We then walked back to the Lighthouse shops; Jon for Scotsburn chocolate icecream, and I for a book I couldn't quite recall. Fortunately, the Grub Box hostess remembered it was Writing the Sea, by leading Newfoundland author and Rose Blanche native Cassie Brown, but I guess the only copy sold. We bought souvenir hats instead.

I walked to the end of the local road across from Big Bottom and had a nice chat with a fellow from Calgary who said his family spends several months a year here. He'd originally bought in The Petites, but that nearby outport is already abandoned.

The locals stopped by on the dock to watch a young fisherman insulate his exhaust pipe, and as I was trying to photo an odd bird, they told me it was an immature ("this years bird") "Sea Pigeon". I've tried finding it on the internet and the descriptions for non breeding Black Guillemot, Common Guillemot and Pigeon Guillemot are difficult to distingish. Anyway, right then, another "otter" appeared, and we all agreed it is really a Mink.

The only mammals we saw in Newfoundland were squirrel, mink, mouse, dog and cat.

9/11/10 "Fog implies visibility of less than 1 mile" : Ramea to Rose Blanche

2010-09-21T09:52:00.000-04:00

Ann writes:

The early morning forecast wasn't great, but we decided to move on. We followed the ferry out of the harbor in the fog. I tried taking just half of a meclizine pill which seemed ideal, but I still dozed off staring into the grey fog.

Reefed Mainsail

By 2 there was hazy sunshine, and it was quite nice around 5pm when the other Morgan caught our lines off the floating dock in Rose Blanche.

We ran up to our favorite Newfoundland Restaurant, Fisherman's Friend, where I had a more sensible meal of Seafood chowder and pan-fried cod. Jon and I had to share the last partridgeberry parfait for dessert. Meals at the restaurant are accompanied by recordings of Newfoundland folk songs which are a bit sad, speaking of the difficult lifestyle, death of the fishing industry, and leaving ones family village forever.

Jon writes:

The forecast was light for this day, but then a north east gale warning for the following day. The wave rider buoy off the Burgeo Bank was still reporting 8 ft seas, but it didn't look that bad and the wind was predicted to be southeast shifting to southwest at 10-15 which would not be too bad to work our way west. The strategy was to get west far enough to make the sail back across the Cabot Strait to Nova Scotia a single day's sail, rather than overnight, because the weather had become rather unpredictable more than about 18 hours out. So we left Ramea and found no more than 6 knots of wind from the southwest, motorsailing all the way to Rose Blanche. We knew this harbor to be well protected from a north wind. We tied to a float at the end of the public dock, and as we were talking to the locals in relative calm a sudden puff of cold north wind signaled that the gale was coming. And it blew that night a steady 32 knots gusting up to 38. But tied to the float directly into the wind in that small protected harbor it was much quieter than the two days at Ramea, or the one at Harbor Breton. The following day was calmer, but still a gale warning in the Cabot Strait, so we explored Rose Blanche more thoroughly and prepared the boat to leave early the following morning.

Rose Blanche from the lighthouse (click to expand)

9/10/10 Another day in port.

2010-09-21T09:16:00.001-04:00

Friday- complete silence in early AM, but downpour again by 10.

Ann writes:

Uncertain if we should try to move west today; locals say "I hears a bit of a roar out there". We certainly had the 60-100 mm of rain predicted. Real Newfoundland weather! We waited until 1pm, but the seas were still almost 7ft.

During lunch again at Eastern Outfitters, I did get to see the Women's SF, but Wozniacki choked against Zvonereva, and I'd been sitting so long waiting for it, that I persuaded Jon to go for a walk. Little did I know what a great spot we'd discover!

First we did the obvious and ascended the highest point, Man O'War Hill for a commanding view of the island. By now it was clearing so we continued on the road to Muddy Harbour. At the end of the road, we could see some signs indicating the Walking Trail which turned out to be a very nice boardwalk skirting almost the entire island. It passed by the lighthouse and many little named coves along the back of the island, while keeping us comfortably suspended above of the boggy, peaty ground.

Fishing stages, Ship Cove

Ship Cove, Ramea, from Man O'War hill (click to expand)

Ann climbs the steps to Man O'War hill

Lots of steps.....

Muddy Harbor at low tide, actually should be called Rocky Harbor

Ann dressed for the boardwalk

The Ramea lighthouse and Coast Guard transmission tower on Northwest Head

Ramea boardwalk from the lighthouse. The boardwalk goes clear around the island. (click to expand)

Ann laments that this field of iris growing in the bog was not in bloom

9/9- Laying Low in Ramea

2010-09-21T08:52:00.000-04:00

Thursday- Rainy and windy with gusts over 30 kts by early morning.

Ann writes:

Jon gets no rest; something is always rubbing, scraping or banging and always when it's dark, a downpour, or a wind gust.

We had lunch at Eastern Outdoors which had very good fries but a small mealy burger. Note to self: avoid beef in Newfoundland. I actually found the US Open tennis coverage on TSN network; lots of , but it was a real snooze fest since they announced the score before the showing, and Nadal/Verdasco was scheduled for later. Boring!

I cooked veal scallopine and blueberry muffins for dinner. We're down to 1 propane bottle; I think we have a leak because it smells so strong in the cockpit when we're sailing that I have to move away from the side the cabinet is on.

9-8 Hare Bay to Ramea

2010-09-21T08:49:00.001-04:00

Wednesday- Our beautiful starry night has turned to wind.

Ann writes:

I didn't think we'd be able to leave, but it calmed at sunrise. We set out for Ramea since a gale warning is in effect for tomorrow.

Jon navigating the Fjord Coast of Newfoundland

At least we had time to see 2 other fjords. Rencontre Bay was definitely the most dramatic. The high walls are more sheer rock and the falls carry more water over longer drops. At the end of the bay, a pair of bald eagles were soaring over a waterfall.

Rencounter Bay

Francios was one of the last viable outports in a much more shallow fjord. Many cottages here are still brightly colored, and a waterfall cascades through the middle of town. The floating dock had space which is rare in this little harbour, but we couldn't stay due to the coming storm.

Francois- an outport hangs on

We reached Ramea around 6:30 and got to see the shoreline that was obscured by fog previously.

Then commenced an almost comical congregation of the town men advising Jon where and how to tie up for the impending storm. Everyone had a different opinion, (and probably very little experience with sailboats.) Jon had quite a difficult decision to make Anomaly secure.

Jon writes:

The forecast now called for a gale to blow from the southeast that night and the advice of the cruising guide was that these bays were not tenable in those conditions, so we would not be able to anchor the next night in either Rencontre or Francois bays. The next harbor west on the coast was Ramea, so we toured those bays on the way to Ramea. The charts of the area carry a warning notice stating that they are based on surveys from the 1800's and may not be up to modern charting standards. In the entrance to Rencontre Bay we encountered a sudden rise in the bottom sounding from over 400 ft to 28 ft in less than 2 boat lengths with nothing shown on the chart. I discounted this as perhaps a fish, which sometimes happens. But we found it again as we exited the bay in the same place. Noting the shear cliffs surrounding the bay above the water, one can imagine that the bottom under the water must have similar precipices.

From Francois to Ramea was 19 miles, the forecast northwest winds in fact turned out to be east southeast - directly from Ramea - and wanting to get there in time to be securely docked for the gale we motored upwind to get there. We arrived and took the same spot on the public wharf we had a week earlier, however a local came by and suggested that it was going to be pretty rough there and we should move. So we moved to a smallish float further into the harbor.

This collected a crowd of locals, all of them arguing about where 'Anomaly' should best be tied up, given the expected conditions. The argument was very difficult to follow, taking place as it did in that peculiar foreign language of Newfoundland. However the consensus was that we should move again, this time to a very tight spot on the middle of the fishing wharf. Being a fishing wharf, it is all rough timbers and covered with old tires used as bumpers. Fine for a working boat, but very bad for the yacht finish. I blew up all of the inflatable fenders I had (6 of 'em). These are made like a Zodiac inflatable boat and are large enough (the largest is 8 feet long) not to slip between the timbers of the wharf and tough enough to bounce off of the tires and rough lumber. Since we were bow into the corner of an "L" in the wharf, I was able to run a line from the bow down the leg of the "L" to help hold the boat off the dock.

'Anomaly' tucked in at center frame, Ship Cove, Ramea

As it turns out Ship Cove at Ramea is not well protected from a southeast wind. As darkness fell it began to blow, fortunately more east than southeast and so quartering on the starboard bow. The line holding the bow off began to stretch and I had to use the anchor windlass and a second line to warp the bow further off the dock. It blew than night and through the next day, shifting to the southeast which was nearly broadside. It was rough enough that the ferry, which is something like a 120+ ft very stout motor vessel did not leave Ramea, good thing as it was created a bit of a lee - "a cut" the locals called it - for 'Anomaly'. We ended up getting steady 35 knots with gusts to 40, somewhat higher than we had seen with the remnants of Earl in Harbor Breton. The fenders and dock lines had to be checked periodically, because the wharf does not move up and down with the tide as a marina float would, so the lines must be either left loose enough to accommodate the 6 ft tidal swing every 6 hours, or tended to night and day.

9-7 Facheux Bay to Hare Bay

2010-09-21T07:54:00.000-04:00

Tuesday- Mostly cloudy, cool and humid.

Ann writes:

Some strange cries echoed over the ridges from an invisible valley beyond the ridge: Moose? Disappointing not to see one. The birds didn't appreciate my iphone concert of bird songs, either.

We had a short pleasant motor to Hare Bay. There is a twin waterfall very near the entrance in Mare Cove. It looks like water levels are low; there are at least 6 visible falls and several other deep cuts in the high granite walls probably carry water in wetter periods.

Anomaly anchored in Hare Bay

This Bay is actually inhabited. A motor boat, a runabout and a dinghy were anchored in front of a red cabin and we could hear voices occasionally. We anchored on the other side of the 2nd to last cove and could see 3 waterfalls from that vantage point. We dinghyed around the Bay to the bases of the waterfalls which tend to disappear into the gravel moraine below them. One had a nice little multi-level cascade into the bay. We were able to go ashore at Sandy point where I found periwinkles, mussels and butterclam shells. Also a bit of plastic trash along the high shore line of the beach that was rocky enough to make walking difficult at times.

Base of waterfall emptying into Hare Bay

I started to paint plain air and of course it started to rain, so was forced below. Cooked pork chops and potatoes. Note to self: Local pork is much better than the beef.

Jon writes:

With only 3 knots of west wind, a sloppy left over sea, and only 5 miles west on the coast to go, we motored out of Facheux Bay and into Hare Bay. It is even more spectacular than Facheux, and we chose the Northwest Arm at the head, leading to a large pool in which we anchored. There were two or three cottages there, one of them actually occupied. In fact there were two other boats in the pool, contrasting with the complete seclusion in Facheux Bay. Nevertheless a serene setting. We explored the pool and tributary waterfalls in the dinghy.

The entrance to Hare Bay

Double waterfall on Hare Bay

The North Arm anchorage at Hare Bay (click to expand)

9-6, Harbour Breton to Facheux Bay

2010-09-15T22:16:00.001-04:00

Monday (US and Canadian Labor Day)- A cool and breezy sunny day.

Ann writes:

Viewed a Salmon farming operation on our departure from Hr. Breton. Note to self: write indignant letter to Julie Packard re: she shouldn't be so quick to criticize an operation that keeps this community alive.

Not exactly a polluting operation- this harbor is over 400 ft deep

Tending the salmon cages- I will order more Atlantic Salmon from now on, regardless of Ms. Packard's opinions!

Started sailing, but conditions turned from tolerable to terrible in a matter of hours. I became a useless lump barely hanging, pondering how to lose my breakfast gracefully. Jon, on the other hand was a real hero, finding a closer alternate anchorage, and then hand-steering to reduce the bashing on the bow. He got absolutely soaked by the spray.

I ended up with a mild case of hypothermia- I was shaking uncontrollably and somewhat hysterical. Jon had to wrap me in blankets and heat up the master berth.

Jon writes:

We left Harbor Breton with the intent of sailing to Hare Bay, one of the fjords to the west. The wind built through the morning until we had the 2nd reef in the mainsail close hauled, with a seaway that was very confused by the large left over swell from Earl. This made it heavy going. We had to round a point to the west and could then turn further off the wind. By then we had nearly 30 knots, the course to Hare Bay was going to be a wet and rough one, so I turned instead toward Facheux Bay - both closer and another 30 degrees off the wind. Hand steering to try to avoid the larger mountains and holes in the water, we entered the relative calm of the Facheux fjord feeling quite soaked and chilled, and anchored in Brent's Cove about 5 miles in on the west side. The fjords have vertical granite walls perhaps 1200 ft high broken occasionally by waterfalls. The walls continue below the water: much of the time the bottom was too deep to measure - more than 600 ft - only a few feet from the shore.

At the anchorage, there was not a single artificial light visible except our own, the Milky Way shone brilliantly in the sky. The closest small town is 30 miles away, the closest city 130. There is no light pollution here!

Leaving the Facheux Bay anchorage at Brent's Cove

Across Facheux Bay opposite Brent's Cove is its twin, Allen Cove

This is the mid south coast of Newfoundland, cut every few miles by deep fjords. The two islands lower right are, peculiarly, French territory and one must clear customs into France to enter them.

The "fjord coast" of Newfoundland (click to expand)

Facheux Bay extends 9 miles into the Newfoundland rock, but is only about 2000 ft wide at its entrance. The depth soundings through most of the bay are about 380 meters - 1200 ft deep!

Chart of Facheux Bay (click to expand)

'Anomaly' is currently lying Baddeck Harbor, Nova Scotia

9-5, Earle passes by

2010-09-15T21:25:00.001-04:00

Sunday- Still very windy, blowing the clouds into a sunny day.

Ann writes:

Earle was kind of a blow hard; very little rain after last evening, so we were able to get out the bikes again today. Had a great day beachcombing and picnicing at Deadman's Cove. So many beautiful multi-coloured stones on the beach. We also hiked to the top of Gun Hill, which I discovered was blanketed with blueberries. New slogan for Palmer:

Harbour Breton- Blueberry Capital of the World!

Blueberries!

Recipe:
Made my own version of put in this evening- Bacon stir fried with onions and red peper, add cooked rice and stir in 2 beaten eggs. Season with salt and red pepper.

Jon writes:

The next day continued to be windy, so we bicycled to Dead Man's Cove and then hiked to the "look off" at the top of Gun Hill.

Dead Man's Cove

Panorama of the U shaped Harbor Breton (click to expand)

Trail and stairs up the ridge to Gun Hill look off

Who needs a Stairmaster when you have Gun Hill - a small sampling of the several hundred stairs

Ann with a bunch of blueberries - the ones she hasn't already eaten

'Anomaly' is currently lying Baddeck Harbor, Nova Scotia

9/4- Waiting for Earle

2010-09-15T21:23:00.002-04:00

Saturday: Sun, fog, and tropical storm

Ann writes:

Darn, those Herring Gulls can really make a ruckus. Almost continuous squawking from first light, but I think Jon could sleep through a train wreck. The skies were sunny when I first got up, then more grey drizzle closed in.

Herring Gulls at the Helm

Palmer picked us up about 11, drove us back to his house and gave us the keys to his truck so we could do laundry and grocery shopping. The coin-op laundry is at the RV park; we did 3 loads but left many pieces damp since we've had trouble with dryer shrinkage. That may not have been a good idea with the high humidity. In between loads, we tried Mollie Browns and their Big Mary fried chicken sandwiches and taters or fries, again, very good but surprisingly expensive for fast food.

After a quick stop at Foodland, we returned Palmer's truck. We visited a house with fantastic sculptures in the yard while waiting for him to drive us back to the marina.

Harbour Breton Yard Sculptures

By now it was warm and sunny and we chatted for awhile. He suggested we dinghy out to the Salmon farming operation nearby, and we were just about to do that when the wind changed and the fog closed in again. We visited the museum instead and read about Newman's Port which was unexpectedly improved when a ship in 1679 was blown off course by pirates and foul weather, and had to shelter in Newfoundland. It's been aged in Newfoundland by the Newman company ever since.

Click here for a nice blurb on the history of Harbour Breton.

We hung out in the Funship Internet cafe and I got the recipe for the tea biscuits. They have a cookbook which I plan to take a look at tomorrow.

There were 2 weddings today and we could hear honking horns all over town. Rain started in earnest just past 6:30 pm. Finished off the first jar of spaghetti sauce for dinner.

Jon writes:

Meanwhile, Earl, though downgraded to a tropical storm, was scheduled to pass through that night. We ran some extra lines and cleaned up the decks, then hung on. The wind blew from the southwest right down the harbor and broadside into the boat rather than the southeast that was predicted, but in spite of a heavy strain on the anchorages of the floating dock, no damage was done. I added another bow line in the middle of the night because of the alarming creaking coming from the float. In the morning the instruments showed a peak gust of 36 knots (41 mph) and sustained winds of 30.

Tied to the float which we are assured is firmly anchored....

'Anomaly' is currently lying Baddeck Harbor, Nova Scotia

9/3- Harbour Breton

2010-09-15T21:19:00.001-04:00

Friday- a nice sunny day.

Ann writes:

Slept in- up too late on computer last night, and the town had a planned power outage until 11 am. (That means an interruption in chlorination and a boil order- sorry for the inconvenience!) The owner of fishing boat The Other Girl came by and talked up a storm about fishing and boats. One season involves whelks or snails as they call them which apparently are slimy but sold to the Koreans.

Got out the bicycles and rode over to the marina, but it was locked; the lower building is a museum, and the curator knew nothing about the marina. The upper floor is the Funship Internet Cafe with yummy tea biscuits and many PC's where we finally got reconnected for a while. Then we rode out the gravel road to the Rocky Point Lighthouse, the Light is much shorter than I would have thought. We returned by way of a gravelly beach where I found a nice sea urchin shell.

Rocky Point Lighthouse is surprisingly short.

We rode on into the main area of town and the Foodland shopping center. Ladies there recommended Scott's restaurant, which was better than average fish 'n chips We've mostly seen deep-fried food in Newfoundland- it tastes pretty good going down, but then it just sits it your stomach like a stone. And it's fairly expensive- $20-25 for lunch.

Rode out to Deadman's Cove RV park and beach on the way back. A family had the inviting crescent shaped beach all to themselves. The RV park has 10 spots surrounded by densely packed low-growing conifers and grassy banks. There are many pools and ponds and boggy ground in some places. I was hoping to see a moose, but hunting season has opened (only bows right now) and they seem to know to stay away. The 6 originally introduced mouse have become fairly numerous just inland and referred to by locals as Newfoundland Spead Bumps.

Deadman's Cove- fortunately, nothing but urchin shells washed up after Tropical Storm Earle passed through (photo taken 9/4)

Finally returned to the boat, and after another hour of beautiful sun, the temperature dropped sharply as the fog rolled in, wet and drizzly. We popped up to the Save More for some meat to stir fry, but the beef had a funny taste. Part-way thru dinner, the town Superintendent, Palmer Strowbridge, dropped by and suggested we'd be more comfortable over in the marina. They'd moved some boats around for us, so Jon went over in his truck to see. We moved over and they kept the gate unlocked for us. Palmer would like to encourage more tourism and really went out of his way to make us comfy. The internet cafe is right above us now, and we're able to take our own laptops up to connect; unfortuneatly the signal isn't strong enough to work on the boat.

'Anomaly' is currently lying Baddeck Harbor, Nova Scotia

9/2- NewLostLand

2010-09-15T21:17:00.001-04:00

Ann writes:

Thursday- Woke up to low fog, the land was gone. Departed at 8 am with 1/4 mile visibility at best. The sun seemed like it would break through, then it would close in again. Not cold like SF fog, however.

Typical Newfoundland Vista- where is the land?

I was surprised that I could go below and read comfortably even though we were rolling a bit. The wind finally picked up and we were able to sail the rest of the way to Harbor Breton. We finally started to see some hazy outlines of land around 3:30 or so. We were docked at the public wharf by 6:45.

I was a bit unsettled that the Southeast wind really blows through this harbor. We passed the marina on the way in and the two piers seem full of small boats; I'm doubtful Anomaly will fit in there. There are mostly private residences around the wharf, but fortunately one bargain grocery store. The main part of town is beyond a low bridge.

I had a nice conversation with the store clerk and he said hurricane Earle is now due to pass more over the west coast and directly over Labrador (La bruhDOOR). Here in Harbour Breton they're expecting winds of only 45 kilometers (24 kts). We bought a few things we probably don't really need, but want to stock up since everything is probably going to be closed SU/MO for Labor Day.

Jon writes:

We made an instrument departure from Ramea, there being only 75 yards or so visibility in heavy fog. This involves navigation by GPS chartplotter, confirmed by radar overlay (because many of the charts of the area are based on surveys in the late 1800's). We had to motor more than half the distance before the wind increased from behind to 8 knots, then sailed to the harbor entrance. Harbor Breton is a long bay running some 8 miles north into the rock of Newfoundland. About a mile in, there is a smaller harbor running southwest, turning around to northeast and in doing so almost completely encircling Gun Hill. The town of Harbor Breton is laid out on both sides of this harbor, with a bridge running between. We spent one night on the public fishing float and explored the town by bicycle. I made enquiries at the town hall about the marina on the other side of the harbor, reputedly available for transient yachts but seeming somewhat full of small powerboats. The receptionist did not seem to know much about it, but later than evening Palmer, the Town Superintendent, came down and suggested that we move to the marina, they had moved moved boats to make space. He offered us a ride to the small RV campground where the only coin op laundry was, and offered us the loan of his truck to do some grocery shopping: all in all, making us feel quite at home!

'Anomaly' is currently lying Baddeck Harbor, Nova Scotia

9/1 - Grand Bruit to Ramea

2010-09-10T15:00:00.001-04:00

Wednesday- Light fog gives way to bright sunny skies with puffy clouds.

Ann writes:

We saw some people in Grand Bruit today- a fisherman from La Pool brought 2 electric workers to hook up the crane and bait station for fishing. They said 5 houses still have service. One home, the Parsons which stands apart, is owned by a lady from New York. This little village needs a Rockefeller!

The fisherman told Jon that it had just gotten too difficult for the elderly residents- children had married outsiders from bigger towns and moved on- they had to give it up.

We took one more walk up to the bridge and I counted the cascades in the waterfall as we walked back down. Devilish hard to paint it; I would pick a complex w'fall to paint for my first attempt! The little birds teased me trying to photo them. Maybe a kinglet and some kind of sparrow.

Departed around 10:40, but later we got cell coverage and discovered that Newfoundland is 30 minutes ahead of Atlantic time. We were sailing almost right away; I'll let Jon give the results. It was a pretty approach- a candy stiped Lighthouse greeted us and we slipped past Muddy Harbour with rugged rocks topped with green grasses failrly close to the channel. We were tied up by about 5:30.

Approaching Ramea- Northwest Head Lighthouse

We were happy to see that the Eastern Outfitter is still open. Our cruising guide is 7 years old, so we don't really know what to expect. Many businesses mentioned have been shuttered. I got a recommendation for the Scotsburn Moon Mist icecream which was "to die for" and it was, but not in the way that she meant;-(note to self: my tastebuds are very different than the locals'.)

We paid $2.50 for 30 minutes wireless internet, but it didn't work very well, even inside their building. Jon came back out to join me on the nearby dock and we were witness to a wonderful cultural habit; the men of the town started appearing and began to converse by the boat ramp on this beautiful evening. It was wonderful to hear them talk; when they spoke to each other we could barely comprehend what they were saying. They could clean it up a bit when they spoke to us. One fellow has 10 children, another 5, but they've all moved away and this town is dying too.

Our "grilling steaks" turned out great despite Jon's wanting to redesign the BBQ; my smashed potatoes were better too.

Jon writes:

We bid goodbye to Grand Bruit and, with an eye on the approaching hurricane Earl, decided to move east more rapidly to get out of his projected path. After about an hour motoring enough wind filled in from the southwest to shut the motor off and we were able to sail for about 5 hours, the wind finally dying to near nothing about 8 miles out of Ramea.

Ship Cove, Ramea

The islands of Ramea lie about 5 miles off of the south coast of Newfoundland, the two main islands have a narrow channel between them with two harbors. The larger one is Ship Cove, around which the town is built. They have refurbished the fish processing plant wharf for the use of transient boats, but the ruins of the plant are still there and you wind through them on the short walk into the village. In the center of town we found Eastern Outfitters, a kayak renting, lunch counter, youth hostile, and internet cafe combined into one building. Like everywhere in Newfoundland, everyone is as friendly as could be. And like everywhere else in Newfoundland, the food is all deep fried.

The next morning we left early for the 65 mile run to Harbor Breton, where I proposed to sit out the passage of Earl.

'Anomaly' is currently lying Ship Cove, Ramea, Newfoundland

8/31- If There's a Grand Bruit in Newfoundland, Does Anybody Hear?

2010-09-10T14:51:00.000-04:00

Tuesday- Grey skies, calm winds and rain this morning.

Ann writes:

Jon went to buy some milk and said he had some work to do, but before I knew it, he started the engine and was pulling out of the harbor in the pouring rain. By the time I got all my gear on it had pretty much stopped. We were out of Rose Blanche by 11:45.

A whale surfaced by the boat a couple times before it fell back as we motored on. We had lunch underway and reached our waypoint around 2:30. Then Jon turned us in to what looked like a potentially rocky approach.

We encountered an enchanting scene. A wide waterfall cascades into the center of the harbor which is surrounded by colorful cottages on rocky ledges. A church perches on the highest point above the town. A cemetery of mostly white marble faced the sea. But there was nothing stirring, save a little otter on the rocks.

The source of the Grand Bruit (Great Noise)

We tied up at the floating dock and looked for signs of life. I saw some gloves drying on a line, but there were no boats. Closer inspection showed that many homes are padlocked and boarded up; most had their electrical service disconnected even tho' they looked fully furnished and had satellite dishes still attached. Lace curtains hang in the windows; the church tree has christmas lights on it.

But the church registry told the story. The town, mostly descendants of the Billards, last signed the book for the last service on June 11, 2010. The last ferry left shortly thereafter, and everyone said a sad goodbye. It made me sad to the point of tears. And angry. We'd heard about the government moving outport residents to more central locations, but the cruising guide reported this was a thriving little village just 7 years ago. They had electrical service, a store, a medical center, helicopter pad, even public internet. What had made them leave such an idyllic spot.

We walked all over town: signed the church guest book, walked in amongst the cottages, visited the cemetary with bright plastic flowers decorating many graves. We walked over lush, soft boggy ground to breathtaking views of the sea. We followed the trails to the serene and rugged pools above the waterfall. It looked like an ideal spot for camping, backpacking, or an artist's commune, but there is NO ONE HERE.

Newfoundland tundra- soft and boggy

Later, the stars were bright with only the flashing buoy and ferry dock lights to interrupt the absolute darkness. I looked for a shooting star to breathe life into the town again, but there were none.

Jon writes:

Grand Bruit was described in the 2003 cruising guide we carried as another picturesque out port village like Rose Blanche, and we proceeded east to find it, motoring the 19 miles in light wind and entered the harbor.

But as Ann said, it is sadly deserted.

'Anomaly' at Grand Bruit

In the morning we awoke to find three men on the wharf. They had come from La Poile, two power linesmen and a fisherman to transport them, to hook electric power back to the bait depot and fish unloading boom on the wharf. I talked for a while to the fisherman and he recalled the names of all of the men shown in some postcards left behind in one of the sheds. He lived in La Poile, another small out port 10 miles distant, and said he would never leave. Good for him.

Grand Bruit harbor from the top of the falls (click to expand)

'Anomaly' is currently lying Ship Cove, Ramea, Newfoundland

8/30 Port aux Basques to Rose Blanche

2010-09-09T10:24:00.001-04:00

Monday,

Ann writes:

Scott's Cove Tourist Mall

Ann writes:

Had an ok breakfast at the Harbourview Restaurant before walking "downtown" to provision at Coleman's grocery which was surprisingly well-stocked. They also let us take our full grocery cart to the dock. We sometimes have difficulty understanding the Neufie accent- some speak in a sort of a brogue.

We left Port aux Basques around 10:45 and raised the mainsail for a downwind run to Rose Blanche; the wind died. Jon had to start up the engine, but the wind was soon back gusting up to 25 kts. Anomaly responded with 8.9 knots; we really should have reefed as it was a bit of a struggle getting the main back down. We're a bit out of practice with the winds being so light up until today.

View of Rose Blanche Lighthouse on approach

I was relieved to get way up into Rose Blanche Harbor. We ended up on the offloading dock which we were told was ok because the next fishing season (for cod) doesn't open until next week (9/1). We were immediately offered assistance from an odd fellow "Morgan" who turned out to be a bit of a hustler. He drove his truck by several times, radio blasting, asking if he could do something for us. The first time, Jon accepted a ride to the filling station to get fuel, and ended up having to buy him a 6-pack of beer. We refused subsequent offers.

A second group of more reasonable folks lent us some fuel cans and aided with the fueling when Jon had trouble getting them to work without leaking. They were accompanied by a beautiful big Newfoundland dog. I had a nice conversation all about "the Rock" with a native Rose Blanche fellow whose 101 year old father still lives there. I was surprised that he had bought an iPad just 3 weeks after they were released, and now says his next computer will be Apple.

We took the recommended footpath through the picturesque Big Bottom to the Rose Blanche Lighthouse and grounds which have been lovingly restored to working condition. The granite stone lighthouse itself is very interesting with historical markers and antiques, and the paths take you along stunning vistas of the sea accompanied by botanical markers on the native flora. We stood in the seaside gazebo and marveled that we were in Newfoundland.

Back in the main harbor, we ate too much at the very cute Fisherman's Friend where I tried Cod Tongues (very rich and fatty) and Newfoundland Fish Cakes (salted cod with potato and onion). The food, service and decor was excellent.

Jon writes:

Rose Blanche is a post card example of a Newfoundland out port community. Although recently connected by a highway, it historically was accessible only by boat, and the village is built tight around the harbor on the steep-to rocks with many of the houses serviced only by footpath or boardwalk. People wander down to the dock on foot to look or talk and greet you on the paths with "It's a beautiful day!".

Rose Blanche east arm (click to expand)

Inside the Rose Blanche Lighthouse

'Anomaly' is currently lying Ship Cove, Ramea, Newfoundland, Canada

8/29- MacDougall Pond to Port aux Basques, Newfoundland

2010-09-05T16:13:00.001-04:00

Ann writes:

We left just before 8 am. It was clear and calm, another sunny day with only high cirrus clouds, but hurricane Earl is due to land in New England next Saturday.  A bald eagle was perched in an evergreen bidding us farewell as we passed through the narrow exit in the breakwater.


Beyond point North and Money Point, we had about 6kts TWS.  We saw 3 pilot whales then another off this coastline.  This time I saw their flukes as they dove upon our approach into 405ft. of water.  They resurfaced in our wake, but too far away for a photo.  By 10:45 we were abeam of St. Paul Island.

Shortly afterward, I saw a Northern Gannet dive and it seemed to set off an explosion in the water.  We later realized that this splashing and thrashing was caused by tuna when we saw a few go flying into the air.  We saw this happen several more times throughout the trip.  

During one of these sightings, I asked Jon to stop the motor entirely hoping to get closer.  The tuna didn't resurface, but Anomaly was moving along fairly easily in only 7 knots of wind.  Jon was reluctant to put all the work into raising the spinnaker because the last time he'd tried, he'd gotten it all rigged, but the wind changed.  This time, the wind stayed steady, and we had a wonderful sail all the way to Port aux Basques.  The only concern was some small tree limbs that whacked us; there were some really big deadheads and something that looked like a sheet of plywood going by that kept us on our toes, although I couldn't help dozing off as usual.

Channel Head Lighthouse


After some confusion as to whether recreational craft are supposed to call the Port aux Basques traffic authority (she said it was voluntary), we entered the harbor around 6:30.  It seemed later because it had darkened due to some low clouds.  We chose the lower, floating public dock and tied up on the end.  Some locals were watching curiously, and Jon checked with them to make sure we wouldn't be bothering anyone.  It was a lot easier dealing with this dock that the huge regular pier, where you have to climb up vertical ladders when the tide is out, an expected range of 6 feet or more. 

I guess we looked confused on land because one of the fellows insisted on driving us to the Harbour View restaurant.  I made the mistake of ordering (frozen) clam strips.  Jon had a nice pan-fried Cod and his partridgeberry pie was redder and tangier than my blueberry pie.  I didn't try to ask the ditzy waitress what Cod tongues are. 

There is a iittle building labeled Harbor authority that had washrooms with showers and also a laundry room.  There were coin-op. boxes in both washrooms, but it turned out Jon had to put in 2 quarters for his shower, but mine was free.  I think they just don't have it all hooked up in the Ladies yet.

Jon writes:


We waited until 8 AM to leave MacDougall pond, when the tide was predicted to have risen to the same stage as when we entered. However it had not, and over the shoal that had been 7.9 feet the evening before we read 6.3 - should be touching the bottom! However we were assured it was soft mud and if we touched we could not tell. Exiting the channel, we motored towards St. Paul Island and Newfoundland beyond, with 5 knots of wind on the starboard quarter. Before lunch I mentioned to Ann that this should be ideal spinnaker conditions and she said "why don't you put it up then?" so I did. 



'Anomaly' on a spinnaker reach

Under the right conditions 'Anomaly' will sail faster than the wind. These were the right conditions! With main, mizzen, and spinnaker set (2200 square feet of sail area) we sailed northeast at 6.5 - 7.5 knots in just 5.5 - 6.5 knots of south wing. The true wind direction was 120 degrees off the starboard bow, but combined with the wind we are making by our forward motion, the wind felt on the boat was only at 64 degrees off the bow, and I set the autopilot to steer to that angle. For 5 hours we sailed that way, flat water, good boat speed, light wind, sun shining, autopilot steering; striking the spinnaker only to prepare for entering Port aux Basque harbor. A very nice afternoon of sailing.



Sailing faster than the wind

We have the ideal handicapped crew position about 'Anomaly'. Normally a spinnaker is trimmed by constantly watching the windward edge of the sail up towards the top. When you see it begin to curl, you trim in on the sheet (or the helmsman steers further downwind). On 'Anomaly', the 1000 sq ft spinnaker - a showcase of the sailmaker's art - is nearly entirely hidden by the 1000 sq ft mainsail and the spectacle can only be enjoyed by those off the boat. The part normally observed in order to trim is completely hidden from anyone in the cockpit. So the position of spinnaker trimmer on 'Anomaly' could as easily be done by a sightless person as anyone else. It must be trimmed by feel and sound. You can feel it shuddering and hear the report of it refilling, telling you it wants trimming.



View of the spinnaker from the helm - 'nada'!

In Port aux Basque we tied to the public dock, and I talked to two fisherman who watched us come it. I say "talked to", but we did not have a common language: they spoke Newfoundland dialect, the older of the two was almost incomprehensible to me. I found myself nodding and smiling when he said something, just as I would if he had spoken Greek. This would become a common occurrence in Newfoundland. The dialect is more obscure than any I have heard in Britain or Ireland.

'Anomaly' is currently lying Harbor Breton, Newfoundland, Canada

8/28- Bay of St. Lawrence, Nova Scotia (Whales and Waterfalls)

2010-09-05T15:25:00.002-04:00

Saturday

Ann writes:

Another warm day with partly cloudy skies.  The water was flat calm.    Someone who identified themselves as working for the harbor authority came came down and asked for $23. Seemed a bit high given that Souris was $30 with full amenities. Departed at 8:08 am.  Today was a great day for whale watching.  We saw 6 pilot whales by 8:30, and at least 6 more by 9:30.  The last pod was probably bigger, but it was too hard to count them all. We also saw 2 seals, and at least 1 other pilot whale in the Bay of St. Lawrence.  Pilot whales are identified by their prominent fin and their habit of traveling in groups.

The dramatic West Shore of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia.

We had to motor the entire way.  The landscape was dramatic forested mountains with many waterfalls falling off reddish cliffs into the sea.  At one point, there was a vein of quartz so big it looked like a glacier.  By 12:30 we were in the Bay of St. Lawrence and lowered the sails, continuing to motor.  We crept into the shallow MacDougall pond at high tide and made our way to the public wharf where Fred and Margrit Gahlinger were nice enough to greet us.

Creeping in the shallow channel to MacDougall Pond

There were a lot of fishing boats tied up, so we stuck out out past the end of the dock.  Allowance also had to be made for the 3-4 foot tidal range.  After lunch, we walked all around the town of St. Margaret Village.  The Jumping Mouse Campground that Margrit manages had beautiful little campsites and views of the Bay.

http://ecocamping.ca/index.html

 The Stumpy trail leads back to the harbor through dense evergreens, hardwoods and open blueberry patches.  Across from the harbor, we found The Hut, which served take-out food and the brand of ice cream that Jon prefers, Scotsburn.  Then we got a bit overheated walking all the way to the Co-Op.  Fortunately, Margrit was also shopping and offered us a ride back.

Jumping Mouse Campground overlooks the Bay St. Lawrence

I finally did some watercolor painting and Jon BBQ'd our steaks, which turned out to be more lean and tough than we like.

Jon writes:

Bay St. Lawrence lies at the northern tip of Cape Breton, between two points: Cape St. Lawrence and North Point. It is an open unsheltered bay, but in the southeastern corner is a small harbor, on the chart called MacDougall Pond. Though the cruising guides suggested that there might be 8 feet of depth in the entrance, all of these ports are subject to rapid silting so there might be considerably less if it had not been recently dredged. If we could not enter, then the only choice would be to continue on overnight to Newfoundland. 
Pilot whales off of Cape Breton
Approaching North Point, Cape Breton
I had enquired of everyone along the way if anyone had local knowledge. One couple on a southbound sloop in Shediac had been in there (but their Bristol only draws 4.5 feet). They suggested calling the Jumping Mouse Campground located on the shores of the bay, owned by a cruising sailors. I tried but got no answer. Then in Souris, Sam (who wrote his own harbors guide to Prince Edward Island) managed to call Fred and Margrit of the Jumping Mouse and determined that our 6.5 foot draft should not be a problem. Armed with this 3rd hand knowledge, we motored towards Bay St. Lawrence in light wind, wondering what we would find. 
The entrance channel was less than a boat length wide - so narrow that if you did ground there would be no turning around - with steel cribbing to starboard and rock riprap to port. In we went, and found that there was actually about 12 feet in the narrow channel, but then shoaled to less than 8 as you approached the wharf (and this on a 2.5 ft tide). However we were in, and tied to the public wharf. In fact Fred and Margrit were there on the dock to catch the lines.
The barn at the Jumping Mouse Eco Campground
'Anomaly' in MacDougall Pond (click to expand)
 
'Anomaly' is currently lying Harbor Breton, Newfoundland, Canada

8/27- Souris to Cheticamp, Nova Scotia

2010-09-05T15:23:00.002-04:00

Friday

Early morning departure- Anomaly and the Lighthouse

Anomaly makes the Morris 42 look small

Ann writes:

Departed 7:37 am. Sailing, no motor by 8:30. Off Little harbor / Pt. by 9:30. By 10 am we were watching seabirds fish off East Point, but no marine mammal sightings today.

I wasn't traveling all that well today. The storm yesterday seems to have disturbed the seas, and although we had a nice downwind sail, a swell was coming from our port quarter causing Anomaly to roll quite a bit. It made moving down below almost impossible until he adjusted our course slightly

The wind started slowing about 14 miles out, so Jon started up the motor and we made it to the Cheticamp breakwater pier by 5:45 pm. We walked up and down the town to see what was there and check out the restaurants, finally choosing Le Gabriel. It was a good choice, and better yet, the dining room over the bar which had advertised "Acadian Music" like American favorite such as Houndog, This Land is Your Land, etc. The only thing acadian about it appeared to be the singer. Anyway, the food was very good- rich, creamy seafood chowder, a nice Chicken Cordon Blue for me, a huge portion of Black Forest Ham for Jon.

The light again was exceptional as we returned to the boat which almost made you wish for a real film camera again. The compensation of a digital camera just can't capture that light.

Beautiful light over the town of Cheticamp

On a silly note, we noticed bioluminescence in the head- I was really surprised because I thought it would just be a kind of neon glow, but it's actually bright sparks of light, kind of like an old fashioned sparkler.

Jon writes:

The forecast 10-15 knot southwest wind actually appeared early and we were able to set the sails as we left the harbor and shut the down the engine. With 10-14 knots from the west south west we ran east north east, almost dead downwind. But the strong east wind from the day before had left a peculiar crossing swell that seemed to come from the north west, and the motion was uncomfortably rolly. I tried each gybe and finally settled on the starboard gybe with the wind over the quarter, even though this put us south of the course to Cheticamp. Towards the end though, the seaway abated so I could gybe back up the coast, as the wind died we motored the last few miles into the harbor and tied to the floating breakwater.

Panorama of the Cheticamp waterfront (click to expand)

The town is spread out along the bay, and shows signs of converting to a tourist economy. There were several bed and breakfasts and small inns catering to those visiting the Cape Breton Highlands Park, which spans the peninsula north of Cheticamp. The "marina" described in the cruising guide was deserted and looked disused. The following morning a gentleman showed up asking for $20 for the use of the dock, normally paid to the harbormaster but the harbormaster had a 7:00 AM tee time (we were told) and therefore could not collect it himself. Sure enough, as we were entertained with stories about the harsh weather, the harbormaster himself showed up (at least he said he was) dressed in his golf shirt and collected the now $23 (tax don't you know) from the first gentleman. Having paid our dues, we got underway for the 35 mile run to Bay of St. Lawrence.

8/26- Soggy Souris Today

2010-09-05T15:15:00.001-04:00

Thursday

Windy and wet today. We slept in since Jon was up several times during the night adjusting the halyard and hatches in the wind and the rain. The waves looked pretty choppy beyond the breakwater; we could have continued on, but it would have been an uncomfortable day, so we decided to wait it out.

We emerged for lunch at the natural foods place again around 1pm. This time we each had a salad and cinnamon roll after sharing a chicken quesadilla. They make everything to your specifications; good, fresh, food.

We popped into the Seaside Chic gift shop which carried some interesting items. Then we stopped by the Co-op to pick up some forgotten supplies and spied some nice baked goods from Harbour Bakery. We got directions to the place just up Church Ave., but found that they send all their goods to the Co-op at 1.

I sent Jon back to the boat with the frozen lasagnas so I could take my time in the Fire & Water gift shop. It was raining pretty steadily, and I got pretty wet on my way back to the harbor. Our little umbrellas don't work all that well in the wind. We spent the rest of the afternoon catching up with correspondence.

I cooked farfalle arabiata for dinner, but the Candaian canned diced tomatoes had too much sugar in them an ruined the sauce, IMHO. It turned into a beautiful warm evening and we went out to photo the lighthouse at night and get chocolate dipped ice cream at Shirley's Place which is open until 9.

Charlottetown to Souris (8/24)

2010-09-03T20:25:00.003-04:00

I was determined to leave early for Souris to forestall the late arrival we experienced in Charlottetown. But two things conspired against us. Starbucks does not open until 7 AM in the Capital of the province of Prince Edward Island (in the backwaters of Napa - capital of nothing - Starbucks opens at 4:30) and then there was the issue of the GPS.

We use the GPS to navigate, however in this instance with good visibility in constant sight of well marked channels, that isn't necessary. But the availability of GPS has infected everything electronic like a virus, so that the chart display, radar display, satellite weather display etc. will not work correctly without a position fix from the GPS. And it wasn't cooperating.

It powered up this morning without the foggiest notion where it was. It also set the datum (the earth reference model from which it calculates position) to Peking 1954. I'm not sure who uses the Peking 1954 datum, perhaps the Red Army, but certainly no one in Atlantic Maritime Canada. I reset it, restarted it, reset all the settings and finally after some time it found its bearings and began to work.

And so we motored to Souris, in the light east wind which does not happen this time of year so everyone said. The description in the cruising guide - "not the most attractive harbor" - while perhaps strictly true (I can think of several in the Virgin Islands more attractive) that is a short sale of the harbor. It is a working fishing harbor and also the ferry terminal for the Madeleine Islands ferry, but the marina facilities are as good as anywhere with nice floating docks, nice washrooms and showers lined with aromatic pine, friendly staff, and a poplar take-out restaurant serving several kinds of ice cream only a block away. The town is a short walk and had craft shops, grocery stores, and a cafe recently opened with haute cuisine.

We stayed the next day to catch up on provisioning and laundry, then stayed the following day as the forecast called for 20-25 knots again from the east with rain, and we wanted to go east - preferably in the sun. Finally we left early on the third day for Cheticamp and the Cape Breton Peninsula.

'Anomaly' is currently lying Harbor Breton, Newfoundland, Canada

Shediac to Charlottetown: "You DO drink, don't you?" (8/20)

2010-09-03T20:19:00.001-04:00

Backing up a bit because Ann is much more diligent than me at keeping up.....

Shediac to Charlottetown

There is nothing to tell about the 60 mile run across the Northumberland Strait to Charlottetown, other than we had an east wind ("we never had east winds in the summer") that was also too light to make for good sailing. But I did try, and gave up two or three hours in the process. Had there been anything like the 10-15 knots forecast, that might have helped, or a favorable current rather than adverse. Then there were the ubiquitous lobster pots to dodge, and a nasty little chop under the Confederation Bridge far out of proportion considering the light wind driving it. The bridge is large, but nowhere on any document could I find the clearance listed, other than 49 meters at the center two spans (which are obviously higher than the others). As it turned out, the spans on either side are probably more than 100 ft, and we could have gone under most of them.

Approaching Confederation Bridge - will we clear?

In any case we arrived at the mouth of Hillsborough Bay at dusk, and it is nearly a 9 mile run up into the harbor. It is well buoyed and well lit, so the main hazard were the lobster buoys dropped in some cases directly in the buoyed channel. On approach to the harbor a call to the Charlottetown Yacht Club was promptly answered with the news that it was full up for the night, and a suggestion to call Quartermasters Marina next door. Which I did, on the same channel as I could find no annotations otherwise in the cruising guide and channel 68 is almost universally used for marina operations. There was no answer from Quartermasters so we determined to go in and have a look.

The problem is that the entrance is very narrow, perhaps only 30 or 40 feet, leading to three narrow fairways between docks. With no idea where to go we proceeded slowly up the first fairway towards the fuel dock, decided we really needed to have all the lines and fenders on the other side but there was no room to idle and move them and certainly no room to turn around, so I backed out again, turned around, and backed down the same fairway. By now we were drawing a small crowd, even though is was 10 PM. The more sober among them promised to hunt up some marina personnel, and by the time we tied to the fuel dock they were there. We could stay, but would need to move to the third fairway right to the end against the wall. It was a tight spot requiring backing in through the narrow entrance, making two sharp 90 degree corners, backing down to the end of the fairway, then making another sharp 90 into the assigned berth. So, out into the main harbor again, swap all the fenders and lines to the other side, then back down the obstacle course and finally tied up for the night. My GPS track of the evening looks like a yo-yo.

At that point we were offered drinks by the Live Wire of the dock. I pleaded for restaurant advice instead, which was supplied along with another offer of drinks. I said I was hoping for dinner first and was asked in a severe tone, "You DO drink, don't you?" to which I replied of course, for fear 'Anomaly' might be cut adrift in the night had we been teetotalers. We were directed to Gahan's Irish Pub which not only served food well past 10 PM, but quite good food at that. And I did sample some of their in-house brewed beers, too. We had brought our umbrellas as a precaution, since there appeared to be some squall activity coming, but were unprepared for the deluge of near Biblical proportions that began just as we finished dessert. There were creeks forming in the streets as we made our way back to the dock and it continued for hours afterwards.

Charlottetown is a very nice spot to spend a few days. Being the provincial capital, it has cultural attractions and amenities; being the capital of a province with a total population of about 150,000, it has a distinctly small town atmosphere. The old town near the harbor has been kept free of eyesore signage, the the buildings are for the most restored originals of the historical town. There are numerous restaurants and shops, though for a supermarket one has to go a mile or two inland.

We met Paul and Christine who were embarking on an ambitious boatbuilding project and shared their knowledge of the Nova Scotia coast they had cruised numerous times. They were kind enough to lend us their car to do provisioning and see a part of the island.

We met Chris and Monica, owners of the Nonsuch 30 berthed in the marina, who drove us around the east end of the island as our tour guides. They had lived on Prince Edward Island some 40 years and seemed to know every harbor and point.

Ann and Monica

The Rest of the Story

'Anomaly' is currently lying Harbor Breton, Newfoundland, Canada

8/25- Exploring Souris and My Last Whole Lobster

2010-09-03T19:27:00.000-04:00

Wednesday

A beautiful sunny day w/refreshing breezes. Cool and windy enough by evening for a jacket.

I had an agenda of at least 3 stops today, much to Jon's dismay. At least he liked the Souris Lighthouse where the niece of the last lightkeeper gave us the tour. (Apparently, guides are required to prevent jumpers- they had 7 in one day!) We had beautiful views of the harbor and town and also saw their collection of Sea Glass which included vials from Sacramento and elsewhere in California.

The restored historic Souris Lighthouse

Making our way into town, we noted the locations of the Blue Fin restaurant, the Post Office, and the Co-Op grocery store. The ladies at the Post Office wanted us to steal their computer so that they could get a new one that didn't crash all the time.

We had to walk all the way to the beach to visit Naturally Yours. Before we got there, I dragged Jon into Log Cabin Arts & Crafts which turned out to be mostly knitting, weaving and quilts. Naturally Yours on Beach road had antiques and gifts. I bought a green (7-up) and amber(beer) sea glass bracelet which also reminded me of the green and red colors of the PEI landscape. I just can't get over the fact that when I was small, we beachcombed in Washington for whole floats and bottles and ignored the pieces; I guess that's all a thing of the past now and pieces are the best you can do.

View of Souris Harbor from the Lighthouse

We continued on to Souris beach where the snack stand wasn't yet open. A good opportunity to lure Jon over to the beach to look for our own sea glass. I could have looked forever, but Jon was more interested in the ADL ice cream at the snack stand- it was our most reasonable meal on the island at $3.50 total for both of us.

Back in town, we had lunch at the natural food store- I think it was called Rite Bite. They served a rich soup of local haddock and potatoes. Jon also liked their cinnamon rolls which were fairly dense and buttery with a strong cinnamon flavor. Jon had to get me some ice because my wrist was swelling up terribly from some kind of insect bite. I also received suggestions of benedryl or sliced onion to deal with these bits. Nothing has worked very well, but the ice did slow it down a bit.

After provisioning at MacPhee's grocery and having to take a taxi back, we walked back up to the Blue Fin for dinner. I once again ordered the Lobster dinner, and I swear I won't order another. It was just an awful experience all the way around. First, they seated us right next to the doomed lobsters which makes me feel awful. The waitress even wanted me to pick one out; I couldn't look. Then it arrives and is just a pain to deal with- a gruesome affair of tearing it to bits, and it didn't really taste all that good. Once again, my whole lobster was tough and chewy (this one was boiled), and to top it all off, I couldn't get the smell off my hands for hours. My best lobster of the week definitely was the lobster sandwich at Covehead and I'm not ordering any more whole lobsters.

Charlottetown to Souris

2010-08-26T22:33:00.001-04:00

We had planned to leave by 7am, but I was slow getting going, and the Raymarine GPS failed to get a fix for a long time. It finally started working and we got out into Hilllsborough Bay right at 8. I took a few pix, and then we had a smooth, but motoring trip to Souris. The wind was coming straight from where we wanted to go, so no sailing today.

8/24, 8:30 am: Blockhouse Point Light is the 2nd oldest lighthouse on PEI

We saw at least 10 harbor seals alsong the way, and near Souris, more harbor porpoises than we could count.

8/24, 5:30pm: Fin of a harbor porpoise

There was no answer from Souris Marina, but we got some help from some folks on the dock and tied up behind the Morris 42. It had looked so grand yesterday, but Anomaly made the Morris look so small. We walked up to Shirleys Place for very yummy fish and chips. Jon had a chocolate dipped ice cream cone. Cars were coming and going to eat from this popular tiny fast-food stand.

Eric showed up around 7pm and we got registered and the key to the very nice washrooms.
It was a beautiful day and the light towards evening was stunning.

8/24, 8pm: Sunset over Souris Harbor

Five Days of Lobster - Day 5 (8/23/2010)

2010-08-26T15:35:00.001-04:00

Monday, 8/23/2010
Today Chris and Monica Brittain drove us all around the Eastern shore. We visited all the lovely sites in that area. Everyone was pretty tired when we got back around 7 pm, but it had been a lovely day. We walked up to Paul and Christine's to return her sunglasses, (they weren't home). Stopped at Fish Bones restaurant on the way back where I had lobster linguine. That was pretty filling. We found the Extra Old cheddar at Cows Cremery in town; Jon had chocolate icecream while I had a peanut cluster and maple cream from Anne's Chocolates.
Todays sights:
- Montague Harbour's nice new facility

- Panmure Island light house with beautiful views of the beach and St. Mary's Bay.

8/23, 11:52: The palomino colored draft horses liked Monica.

8/23, 11:55: The view of Panmure Island Provincial Park beach

Panmure Island Light

- Bay Fortune House which has beautiful gardens and a screened in dining area from which to enjoy them, but did not serve lunch that day.
- Lunch at the Inn at Spry Point where I had a delicious Scallop Saffron risotto, and we all had the blueberry tart which was more like a creme brule smothered in wild blueberries with a biscuit standing in for the crust.

8/23, 2:30 pm: Photo op on the deck of the Inn at Spry Point with Monica and Chris Brittain

- Souris Harbor, our next destination with a spanking new facility and washrooms all done out sweet smelling clear pine, a common construction technique on PEI.
- Basin Head where the singing sands would not make a peep despite Chris' best efforts.

Five Days of Lobster - Day 4 (8/22/2010)

2010-08-26T15:29:00.000-04:00

Sunday, 8/22/2010
Up at 7:30 but the showers still not open; had to walk upstairs to the restaurant to find someone to open them. Jon spent the morning at Starbucks. Upon his return, we tried to find some of the art studious listed in the Craft-Art directory I'd found, but a lot of them are closed on Sunday. We did see a nice video about the birth of Canadian Confederation in the historic Province House.

Had lunch on the boat and then walked along the nice board walk past the Yacht Club. We ended up back at the top of Queen Street again where a craft faire was closing down. By then some art galleries on Great George Street had opened up, so we browsed some interesting art there.

Later we were invited to the Nonsuch 30 Monicat by Chris and Monica Brittain, longtime residents of PEI. It actually started to rain for awhile which allowed Monica to show off her nice full cockpit enclosure. We learned a lot about the island from them.

Later yet Christine and Paul came by Anomaly and we reviewed charts on Jon's computer (which kept zooming in and out in an annoying way), and they gave us many waypoints in Nova Scotia and the Bras-D'ors Lakes that they have enjoyed. Jon gave them his construction slideshow which was interesting to them since they are now building their own catamaran. We tried to take them to dinner, but they insisted now, so we walked back up to Gahan for the chowder which was surprisingly more chunky this time (more lobster!). The service was painfully slow again, albeit cheerful.

Five Days of Lobster - Day 3 (8/21/2010)

2010-08-26T15:25:00.001-04:00

Saturday, August 21, 2010.
We had such a late night last, that we didn't get going until 10 or so. I could hear many passers by making comments about the boat. Jon finally popped up when Paul and Christine Melarson (correct me if I got that wrong, guys!) came by. They really seemed to know what they were looking at, and Jon always likes to show Anomaly off. They generously offered us the use of their car which they brought down later.

8/21, 10 am: Anomaly's first berth in Quartermaster Marina was right on the wharf, behind the cow and I

Ever in search of espresso, we walked up to town. Many little shops and even some convenience stores with fresh produce are located within walking distance, even a Starbucks.

Jon at Starbucks on University Ave in Charlottetown, PEI

I was more interested in the Bookmark bookstore which had a very nice collection of art supplies. I got a red micron pen to aid in drawing seascape boating scenes, and one of the many editions of Anne of Green Gables. Apparently, the author, L.M. (Lucy Maud) Montgomery was born on PEI which is the setting of 19 of her 20 novels.

Returning to the boat, we found the keys to the car along with a note that the Farmer's market was closing within an hour, so we drove up there as quick as we could. They had some nice cheese, and I think some of the produce stands had already closed, but we have yet to find a Farmers market as fantastic as the one in Hamilton, Ontario. I did have a nice maple sausage, however. I wasn't brave enough to ask what an "ugly dog" was.

We had less luck with both the Atlantic and Sobey's supermarkets- there had been quite a bit of traffic attributed to Old Home week (the last hurrah of summer, I'm told), and our favorite beverages had been depleted. A better find on the way back was the Queen Street meat market, inexplicably on University Street. The sign advertised a delicious 4 year old cheddar. We bought a big chunk and I also got some nice boneless chicken breasts. The proprietor was quite a character.

Returning to the boat, we moved it out to the end of the dock's into a spot that was labeled Sobey. Apparently, the Sobeys of supermarket fame had just left for the summer. We had to slog through the mud a bit to get next to the dock, but it's a lot quieter away from the main pier.

Finally left to do some sightseeing at 3:30pm so only had time to go out to Brackley Beach. It cost over $15 to get into this Provincial Park, but the green grasses running down to the pink and red sand beaches are nice. I had my best lobster in a sandwich from a little snack shop at Covehead.

8/21, 3:51 pm: Beach in Brackley Provincial Park

Dinner at the Merchantman Pub featured excellent seafood chowder (more lobster!), light tempura battered Haddock and crispy fries. I saved room for Cows Ice cream Chocolate Monster (chocolate with heath bar). The Peak's Grille band fired up at 10:30 PM and was even louder than the night before.

Five Days of Lobster - Day 2 (8/20/2010)

2010-08-24T22:08:00.003-04:00

A couple of days at Point du Chene is an exaggeration, Jon!
He wanted to leave at 8 am the day after I arrived- 31 hours after I arrived, to be exact, but I knew my jet lag wouldn't wear off that fast, so we got going around 9:30. I insisted he make his aforementioned mocha's before we left, after all, what was the rush? The trip to Charlottetown was estimated to be 11 hours.

8/20, 8:30 AM: Jon at the helm on a beautiful day

8/20, 8:31 am: Departing Pointe du Chene Yacht Club

Well, it was a lot longer slog than that. I'll let him fill in the details, but suffice to say it was a long choppy trip dodging lobster pots all the way to Charlottetown. The only interesting feature was the Confederation Bridge, and it really is a homely looking thing compared to our Golden Gate and even our San Francisco Bay Bridge. The best that can be said of it is that it has a simple, clean line to it.

Confederation Bridge - Designed by the pop artist Christo?

   It seemed to take forever to get to Charlottetown, and the skies both before and behind us became dark with periodic flashes of lightning that lit up the entire sky more often than producing a bolt. I didn't hear any thunder which made me believe, wrongly, that we weren't going to get too wet. By the time we reached the harbor, it was very dark and drizzling. Fortunately, the range finders for the harbor are well lit.
   Then the excitement began as we called on 68 to find no room at the yacht club, and no answer at all from Quartermaster marina. Note to self: if no answer, try 16 instead. We decided to go for the fuel dock and figure it all out later, but that seemed to hug the shore and it looked too tight to spin around and tie up on port, so Jon backed all the way out and we switched all the lines and fenders to starboard. By this time, Anomaly had attracted quite a bit of attention, and we received instruction to tie up on the pier, again, right under a soon to be booming night club.
   By this time it was after 10 pm, and the grill had stopped serving food. We received helpful instructions, and settled in at the brewpub Gahan for my second lobster meal, more of a taste really- Buttery, creamy, seafood chowder with mussels, shellfish and of course, lobster!
   There were a lot of people in the place and it took a long time to get our meal. When she brought the check, the waitress said we might want to wait out the rain. It was coming down in buckets. We waited for a while, but it never slowed, so we thanked our foresight to bring our umbrellas and returned to the marina. It was coming down so hard that we got pretty wet anyway.
   Another unpleasant surprise was the the washrooms were locked by the restaurant, and the marina doesn't have a key to that deadbolt. We had to shower on board Anomaly, and tried to go to sleep to the pounding of the beat from the nightclub and the rain. It seemed both went on for about 5 hours.

There is No Espresso in New Brunswick

2010-08-24T21:29:00.000-04:00

Espresso cafes can be widely found throughout the Great Lakes. We found them in Toronto, Cobourg, Youngstown, Hamilton, on the Detroit and St. Clair rivers, several shops in Tobermory, Killarney, Little Current, and throughout the North Channel. We found them on the St. Lawrence river too: Kingston has several including a Starbucks only 5 minutes walk from the Confederation Basin; in Cornwall and Prescott, nearly anywhere in Quebec City (though the Starbucks is a walk up the hill to the Chateau Fontenac). We found espresso in Cap a l'Aigle, Taddousac, Rimouski. St. Anne des Mont may have had - certainly they had a Tim Horton's which doesn't count - but we did not explore the town enough to know. Riviere au Runard has no food at all except an ice cream truck seemingly open all night, but there are numerous espresso shops in Gaspe.

Then we arrived in Shediac.

There is no espresso in New Brunswick. Shop after shop and restaurant after restaurant - no espresso. In Bouctouche - no; in Shediac - no…. well, at the Giant Lobster tourist attraction there is a lady with an Illy pod machine. This is kind of like methadone for the addict, not quite the same thing but you take it anyway. One had to drive to Moncton to find a Starbucks, and then it is in the Chapters book store, not even a real stand alone store. Over to Prince Edward Island and Summerside - no espresso at either the Tim Horton's, Burger King, or anywhere else within walking distance. Then to Charlottetown. You can find it here, there is a recently opened Starbucks 7 minutes walk from the marina (eyes watering slightly, and the skin itching a bit as the DTs begin) also a Timothy's, a Mr. Beenz, and a couple of others. Still not common in restaurants though, even the more expensive ones.

The Bellman left, the Atomic right.

On 'Anomaly' we carry 2 espresso machines - down from 3 after Ann drew a Line in the Sand. Both are stove top machines made by Bellman in Taiwan. The one known as the Bellman is really a single pass moka pot type machine, but sealed with a steaming wand for steaming milk. This works well for steaming, but the coffee produced is much weaker than real espresso. It also results in the whole inside being dirty with coffee and grounds, and is hard to both load and clean. The second is a reproduction of the Atomic Stovetop Cappuccino Coffee Machine produced in Austria and the UK in the 50's, itself an interpretation of the Robiatti Italian machine from the 40's, now being manufactured by Bellman and sold by La Sorrentina of Australia. It has a real portafilter and a steaming wand in a very compact design. Coffee only contaminates the portofilter basket, making cleaning easier. Experts will argue that it cannot develop the 12 Bars pressure necessary for a true espresso extraction, which is true. It also requires fairly high heat from the burner (higher than the Force 10 galley stove can produce) to do a really good job of foaming milk. One further drawback is that the whole machine is scalding hot for at least an hour after use. Despite these challenges we manage to survive somehow.

The Atomic Coffee Machine - Google it!

'Anomaly' is currently lying in Souris, Prince Edward Island, Canada

The Northumberland Strait

2010-08-24T20:52:00.001-04:00

Leaving Summerside for the short run over to Shediac, New Brunswick we were treated to a bit of wind. Starting at 6 knots it built throughout the day to 13 or so and we finished with a nice broad reach through the lobster pots into Shediac Bay. This was the first port out of Quebec City where we saw significant sailing activity. There were a number of sailboats on the bay as it was National Acadian Day and New Brunswick is definitely Acadian country.

After the English conquest of French Canada, there were several attempts to Anglify the area, one of which involved deporting all the French speaking residents. Many objected (having lived there for generations) and fled to the woods. These Acadian Francophones have a dialect and a culture distinct from the Quebecois. New Brunswick is the only officially bilingual province in Canada, most of the residents seemed to speak French or English with equal ease. They were certainly enjoying their day.

In any case, we came sailing through the fleet at 8 knots or better, looking good, then in the process of getting the sails down strayed slightly from the channel and struck the sand bank, looking bad. It turned out (when viewed at low tide) that much of the bay has silted in and looks very little like the chart and you will see the depth sounder go from 15 ft to 5 in a glance. After some twisting and turning, we freed ourselves and headed towards the green buoys of the marina entrance, these looking peculiarly close to the rock breakwater. Before long we struck the sand again, having cut the corner across across a charted 14 ft depth which would in fact dry at low tide. Once again we freed ourselves and with scrupulous adherence to the buoyed channel entered the Point du Chene Marina, at the same time entering a rather wild Acadian Day celebration.

'Anomaly' is a little long for the 35' slip but we were comfortable nonetheless

The Marina is quite a friendly place, run by the 125 shareholders through their manager, Walter. We very shortly met Larry and Sheila on a recently new-to-them Nonsuch 30 who where extremely generous in their hospitality. After spending the next day cleaning up the boat and exploring the immediate area, brother Jerry and friend Bob were parceled off to the Moncton airport (at 4:30 AM) to return to California.

The Pointe du Chene Marina and wharf

Ann arrived from California the following day, at 1 AM and 'Anomaly' was back to her normal crew. We spent a couple of days re-provisioning and watching the local kids run through the parking lot and hurl themselves from the end of the wharf in a manner that would have California attorneys reaching for their contingency contracts, and then left for Charlottetown.

Shediac is the self-proclaimed "Lobster Capitol of the World". I have to admit they are big there...

'Anomaly' is currently lying Souris, Prince Edward Island, Canada

A Dearth of Wind and a Plethora of Lobster Pots

2010-08-24T20:32:00.002-04:00

We waited to leave the Sawmill Marina in Bouctouche until the tide had risen to the same level that we entered on, then once again clearing the channel by mere inches departed for Summerside on Prince Edward Island. As soon as we entered the Northumberland Straight, we encountered the lobster pots.

Lobster season opened only a week or so prior, and in the deeper water of the Strait (only about 70 feet) pots are everywhere. Looking out across the horizon it looks like a minefield, thousands of buoys and probably 15 or 20 lobster boats within view. The pots are set only 50 - 100 yards apart, each has two buoys about 5 feet apart with a line between them, and a line going down to the pot. These are not set in strings as seems to be done in Maine, with a buoy at each end (and the lines weighted), nor are they as picturesque; they are plastic buoys which have the appearance of gayly painted trash.

Ann poses in front of a stack of navigational hazards on PEI

And so with no wind (15 knots forecast….) we motored towards Summerside, making course adjustments often several times a minute to weave between the navigational hazard that is lobster fishing. Some are responsible enough to shorten the line such that one need only avoid running between the two buoys and clear them by a few feet, but many leave an extra 75 feet or so of line which floats on the surface upwind of the buoys, ready to tangle the keel, rudder, or prop if you come near it. Under good light, they can be seen from some distance, however if you are looking into the sun and there is a little chop, they seem to appear out of nowhere 50 ft ahead of the boat. If you tangle one, it could damage the prop or engine, is likely to stop it and require gyrations and machinations to free it at a minimum, and perhaps a dive into the 64 degree water to cut it free.

We finally arrived at the Summerside Marina, known as the Silver Fox Yachting and Curling Club. They did in fact have a curling alley, or field, or whatever it is called. They also had a lounge that seemed to be the hot spot on a Saturday evening in Summerside. We were directed to the dock nearest the lounge, and so got to enjoy both the loud music until well after midnight, AND the exuberant patrons smoking on the patio outside during the breaks. It was reminiscent of weekends on 'O' dock back at the Port Credit Marina, so I felt right at home. The CCA guide says that the Summerside town center "lacks cohesiveness" which is an apt description. However it does have a bank, propane, a grocery store, a Burger King, and a Tim Horton's all within a few minutes walk of the marina. We did not have time to explore the town any deeper as we had to get the crew to Shediac to meet airline schedules.

'Anomaly' tied up within shouting distance - and hearing distance - of the Silver Fox Yachting and Curling Club

'Anomaly' is currently lying Souris, Prince Edward Island, Canada

Five Days of Lobster - Day 1 (8/19/2010)

2010-08-24T20:25:00.002-04:00

Thursday - I woke up with a terrible headache due to lack of sleep and the 4 hour time difference; we're in the Atlantic time zone in Shediac, New Brunswick, Lobster Capital of the World. Otherwise, it was a lovely sunny day.
   I finally forced myself out of bed and had a nice shower at Pointe du Chene Yacht Club (PCYC)
http://www.pcyc-nb.ca/his.html
after discerning that the hot and cold are again backwards. Amazing how many showers have had that issue. I got Jon to take me to Bayou for a real breakfast (rather than his normal espresso and pastry) since I didn't get much real food to eat yesterday.
   Back on Anomaly, it was time to get the provisioning done and after making the appropriate lists we headed for Sobey's supermarket (more on Mr. Sobey, later), but not before stopping to pose next to the Largest Lobster in the World. We managed to score 2 packages of Lemon Perrier in plastic bottles, a rare find, but no "mocktails". Chicken also seemed very expensive.
   Later, Jon showed me the pier and how the locals liked to go running and jumping off the end. We had some nice ice cream- Death by Chocolate, and that was about all I could do before succumbing to jet lag and a nap.

Pointe du Chene Pier

Jon woke me in time to get to dinner at Paturel's Shore House Restaurant where we had a delayed anniversary dinner. I had boiled lobster hot with melted butter and the recommended french fries. The owner came by to make sure I had dispatched my lobster correctly and he seemed as surprised as I was that I remembered how to eat one. He did say, however, that he thought lobster is best served cold because then they can stop the cooking at just the right time by plunging it into salt water. It's true that the tail was a bit tough and chewy.

Ann Rejoins the Journey in New Brunswick

2010-08-24T19:26:00.003-04:00

   August 18, 2010. My brother-in-law, Jim, drove up to the barn even a little early around 5:15 am. Lucky, of course, jumped into the open trunk and had to be extracted. Poor cat; I felt so bad leaving him. I was bound for the 6 am airport shuttle to catch an Air Canada flight from San Francisco to Moncton, New Brunswick via Toronto.
   The flight goes relatively painlessly, being a direct connection to Toronto and despite the on-demand entertainment system totally blanking out for about 30 minutes. I had already finished watching Shrek Forever before that happened.
   Customs in Toronto at 9:30 pm went smoothly; it seemed mostly to consist of picking up my luggage and putting it back into the Air Canada domestic system, although the customs agent had a bit of a bee in his bonnet about Jon not having a captains license for a boat over 40 ft until I told him Anomaly is US registered. I was annoyed by the domestic connection, however. Although signs direct you to the connection, they really practically dump you out the door. I lost my bottle of water because I had to go through security all over again.
   On the hop to Moncton, I sat next to a fellow who looked and sounded just like John Holland, our granite expert. He was returning from Alberta where he drives a petroleum truck for 4 months at a stretch. What a commute!
   The plane had been delayed, but made good time and neither of us finished our movies. Jon seemed happy to see me and we collected my luggage and drove in a borrowed car the short distance to Pointe du Chene pier and Yacht Club.

Anse a Beaufils to Bouctouche

2010-08-17T21:35:00.001-04:00

We left Anse a Beaufils a bit late considering the day ahead, and with once again very little wind motored across the Chaleurs Bay and down the coast to New Brunswick. On the way we passed into Atlantic Daylight time, an hour later than Eastern time. It seemed odd to cross a time zone while heading more or less due south, but New Brunswick has decided to keep the whole province on one time zone, Quebec, on another.

Our destination was the Portage Island anchorage in Mirimachi Bay, that being about half way to Shediac bay where we would change crews. Mirimachi itself was described in the CCA guide as somewhat seedy and dirty and without merit; in any case it was nearly 20 miles up the river and therefore well out of the way, while the anchorage is just inside the bay. The other recommended stop was Shippagan, but it is behind a lift bridge with an open clearance of 39 feet, about 25 feet lower than 'Anomaly's' mainmast. The terrain around Gaspe is mountainous, however south of Chaleurs Bay the land is quite flat and featureless, the water shallow and riddled with sand bars. When we arrived at the Mirimachi channel buoy it was quite dark, the waning moon had already set, and there was no light to tell land from sea. Using the GPS and radar, we crept into the anchorage, with the nice surprise of a large unlit buoy appearing suddenly out of the dark and gliding by one boat length away. Entering a strange anchorage at night is spooky and potentially dangerous and I don't like it. But we managed to anchor in 20 ft, and the next morning we were still there.

Reviewing the route

Gaspé to the Northumberland Straight and PEI

It all looked quite different when you could actually see the island and sand bars, without being either more attractive or less ominous. But we crossed the bar back into the Gulf, found 10 knots of wind and set the sails. 15 minutes later the wind had died to 6 knots and it continued to lighten until nearly calm giving us another day of motoring. I had intended to go straight to Shediac or perhaps Summerside, but we were ahead of schedule and a cruising guide mentioned Bouctouche as a pleasant stop, just 12 miles to the north west of Shediac. The caveat being, there was 6-7 feet of water in the channel - 'Anomaly' draws 6.5 feet. We would arrive on about a 2 ft tide which might give us enough. On the way in we passed a sailboat headed that way and asked: "You should be OK," they said, somewhat uncertainly. Carefully following the channel marked with tree branches stuck in the mud on both sides, we found 7.2 feet at the shallowest point, and with 8 inches of water under the keel made it into the harbor.

Bouctouche is a small Acadian community that happened to be the home town of John Irving of the Irving Oil company. He had built a marina in the style of a yacht club, surrounded by a park, and donated the whole thing to the community prior to his recent death. The result is a very nice marina facility, the sort of thing that doesn't get built by committee or government agency.

The Bouctouche Marina office and clubhouse

The marina surrounded by Irving Park

'Anomaly' is currently lying Point du Chene Marina, Shediac, New Brunswick, Canada.

Gaspé to Ansé a Beaufils

2010-08-15T21:06:00.001-04:00

Another sparkling morning (2nd in a row!) we had breakfast in then Cafe des Artistes and then headed over to the fuel dock in the harbor. While waiting for the fuel attendant, three men working on a boat came by to chat and informed us of some of the history and significant residents of the harbor. He described the large deep bay upriver from the town, "but then zey beelt de fooking bridge" he said in a marvelous French accent; which makes it inaccessible to sailboats. We finally filled up and were on our way, a short distance into the bay we were able to raise sail and in light wind sailed towards Anse a Beautif. This required rounding Rocher Perce, a postcard headland with a very large natural bridge. It is noteworthy enough that together with Ile Bonaventure (the bird sanctuary island just off the coast) there is a thriving tourist boat business out of the town of Perce to service the throngs of sightseeing tourists. We had brought our own boat however, and got a good look at the rock.

Rocher Perce

Anse a Beautif is a small harbor used by fisherman and the tourists boats along with a few yachtsman. It looks too shallow on the chart for 'Anomaly's' draft, however Guy (who we met in Gaspe) said it was okay except in the middle of the harbor, just go around the outside, not across the middle. We did this, tied up with the help of the jovial harbormaster, then discovered 'Balthazar' and Guy tied up further up the quay. We sat down with him and his wife at the local bar/restaurant for a beer, and were quickly joined by 4 or 5 others of his friends. The Boreal brewery is just on the the side of the harbor and they brew a "blanch" beer, very blonde with a citrusy taste. Among the friends were Bruno and Michele who gave us a tour of their very unique 24' junk rigged steel 'Tiguidou', which Bruno had modified and completely refitted from an existing sloop hull. Here was a someone I could relate to, every part custom made by him exactly to fit the boat with inventive solutions on exhibit port and starboard. They left the next morning early, northbound for Gaspe, and we left southbound for Mirimachi Bay.

Running away from the Perce. We resisted the temptation to sail through.

Rounding Cap Gaspé

2010-08-14T21:54:00.002-04:00

Leaving Riviere au Renard early and in company with the sloop we had passed yesterday which had also spent the night in the harbor, we set sail in 15 knots and for once enjoyed the forecast conditions for a couple of hours. Running dead downwind averaging speeds of 8 knots and greater, we sailed around Cap Gaspe, which is a spectacular narrow rock ridge, with shear cliff on its northeastern side. rounding the point into Gaspe Bay, the wind lightened eventually to zephers and we once again had to motor up the bay and into the harbor.

A pano of Cap Gaspe, the end of the Appalachian chain

Here we are running up to the Cap:

We found the town of Gaspe to be quite a picturesque setting, sloping up the hill across the bridge from the yacht harbor. There are a couple of cafes and restaurants on the street just above the bay which we sampled. Adding to it was fine sunny weather, this being the first day in many with no rain at all.

One of the Cafes in Gaspe, owned by a sailor

A fellow came over from another boat to look at 'Anomaly' and introduced himself as Guy from 'Balthazar', a steel sloop in which he and his family had circumnavigated a few years back. He suggested we stop at Anse a Beautif which we resolved to do.

The yacht 'Anomaly' is currently lying Summerside, Prince Edward Island

St. Anne des Monts to Riviere au Renard

2010-08-14T08:39:00.000-04:00

The morning forecast was a Strong Wind Warning for 10 - 20 knots, so we knew we were in for some motoring. And sure enough, with only brief periods on 12 - 14 when we could shut off the motor, we made our way east towards Riviera Renard in typically 3 - 8 knots of wind from behind.

The O'Day sloop berthed ahead of us at St. Anne des Monts left about an hour before us, by just after lunch we had caught her and passed close by, both of us motoring and neither with an explanation for the lack of wind. The mountains on the peninsula had grown taller and steeper to the shore, and the settlements fewer and farther between.

More mountains, less town on the eastern Gaspé Peninsula

The wind died and then filled in from ahead, then we were overtaken by a series of squalls bringing heavy rain. The first one also brought one lightening bolt which seemed to hit very close by. Looking at the Sirius satellite weather plot, it showed a lightening strike right on top of the boat position, a bit scary! All of the other lightening fell well behind us.

Sailing directly through a rainbow - it looked better if you were there, and a relief after the rain and lightening!

We entered the harbor at Riviera au Renard after dark, but found the attendant still there to register. They had some of the nicest washroom and shower facilities anywhere, seemly new and spotlessly clean and free too! This in a working fishing port with very few yachts. The only eating facilities nearby were the California style "roach coach" taco van and the similar ice cream van on the dock. Curiously, the taco van was closed but the ice cream van open for business at 9:00 PM, and the ice cream van again open at 7:30 the net morning.

'Anomaly' at Riviere au Renard

Rimouski to St. Anne des Monts

2010-08-14T08:17:00.002-04:00

It seemed windy overnight, and with again a forecast including Strong Wind Warnings with 10-20 increasing to 15-30 we anticipated another day of sailing the 90 miles to St. Anne des Monte. There is an intermediate marina of Matane, but it has only 1.5 meters of water at low tide and 'Anomaly' only floats in 2 meters or more.

Setting the sails with 10 - 12 knots, we turned downwind and slowly watched the wind die away, started the engine again, and motored most of the way to St. Anne des Monts. The coastline is mountainous and green with forest and occasional cleared farmland, with towns every few miles. We slowly entered the harbor at our destination, listed on the chart as having 1.5 meters at low tide (and we were at low tide) but assured by the guidebooks that there was more, and indeed found 12 feet. We tied up behind an O'Day 40' sloop and registered with the Gardien through a passerby entrepreneur pressed into service for the purpose.

Farms and wind farms on the Gaspé Peninsula: click to expand

A very rare sighting of a pleasure boat on the Gulf - the Oday 40 bound from Rimouski to Bonaventure

St. Anne des Monte is also not a tourist town, though not unattractive. And it did have a Tim Horton's for morning donuts an easy walk from the marina. It also had a plague of gnats which defended on 'Anomaly's' decks in hordes, they expired in drifts in the bulwarks and had to be hosed off the next morning. The marina was cheaper still than Rimouski, but the showers more expensive: $1 for 4 minutes!