Liscombe River, NS - July 30-31, 2011

For the version of this article published in Sail Magazine, click here.

Saturday, July 30, began as a very lazy day, how it ended was quite different.

Kelly IV was secure at her anchor and although there was no cell phone coverage, I could pick up the internet available from the Liscombe Lodge Resort.  As you know from the prior log entry, I was able to complete and post two log entries during the day, as well as a number of new photographs.  In addition, I got my email caught up and straightened out a problem with our home email address.

In other words, I spent the gray, rainy, blustery day down below in the cabin reading and working on my computer.  About 6:45pm I thought to check the batteries to be sure they were properly charged up.  Kelly IV depends on her solar panels to do the charging when we are at anchor, but when the skies are as dark and rainy all day, as they were this Saturday, very little charging occurs.  In fact, with the refrigerator and computer running all day, the house batteries were showing only 11.6 volts remaining.

With evening upon us, I decided to fire up the diesel to recharge the batteries, so there would be power on board through the night.  From the diesel experts who sold me the new engine in 2010, I understand that it is better for the engine to run under load, than merely at idle.  With that in mind, I put the transmission in reverse, just like I do when setting the anchor.  I figured that if the anchor didn't pull out when I set it, it should be fine with the boat pulling in reverse while the batteries recharged.

I did have a stern anchor line out, using the Guardian anchor to hold Kelly's stern from drifting into the channel if the winds went to the east.  After putting the engine in reverse, I confirmed that Kelly was pulling tight on both anchor lines and they were stable and taut.  All seemed fine, so I went below to do some reading and contemplated a hot shower after the engine heated the water.

Suddenly, I heard a loud CLUNK, and the engine died sounding the alarm.  I dashed into the cockpit and turned off the starter key, already knowing what had happened.  When I checked the stern anchor line, I didn't allow for the probability that the wind would shift at some point and push Kelly over top of her stern anchor line.  Obviously, that is just what happened and the prop shaft immediately sucked and twisted the anchor line around itself so tightly that the engine couldn't deal with it and shut down.

What really frightened me, was that as soon as the engine shut down, I could hear a stream of water running freely into the boat.  As you all know, the primary function of a boat is to keep all the water on the OUTSIDE.  It is bad enough when rain drips into the boat, but when seawater was rushing in, I got a little (OK, a LOT) worried.  After shutting off the engine key, the first thing I did was look at the propeller shaft inside the engine compartment.  And there was the source of the running water . . . a steady flow of water was gushing past the shaft into the bilge.

Fortunately, the bilge was nearly empty and it took several minutes before enough water entered the boat to start the bilge pump running.  During those minutes, I went back into the cockpit to confirm the details of the stern anchor rode being pulled tightly under the boat.  Then I went back into the cabin, sharpened a knife and tied the knife to my wrist.  If I dropped it, I didn't want to lose it altogether.  Since I was already in my T-shirt and shorts, I went over the side into the river to cut the rope off the shaft.

The river water was the warmest water we've sailed in since we departed Erie.  I am very lucky that we were so far inland that the water temperature was quite reasonable, maybe 65*-70*F.  Although cool, I wasn't struck with hypothermia and was able to dive under Kelly IV and reach the shaft without feeling cold.

After a couple dives, I heard water pumping and it was the bilge pump kicking in.  That gave me additional incentive to get things corrected ASAP.  Fortunately, the sharp knife did its work well and within a few more minutes (and two more bilge pump events) I had all but a small scrap of rope removed from the shaft.  I could not really see under water given the gray day, late hour, and almost black water (due to the tannin of the tree bark upstream), so I had to do the work almost entirely by feel.  I could tell there was still a bit of rope stuck in the cutless bearing where the shaft is held in place by a strut just forward of the propeller.

Since the transmission had been in reverse when the rope jammed the shaft, I started the engine (thankfully, it did so without a problem) and shifted the motor into forward gear, leaving it at idle.  After less than a minute, I shut the engine off and dove below to check the shaft.  Obviously, I must have done something right, because that last bit of rope was gone and there was nothing left to encumber the propeller shaft.

The best news is that while I was under water cutting the rope loose, I heard a small “clunk” in the shaft.  At first I was worried, not knowing what caused the sound.  When I went back aboard after confirming that all was clear, I rechecked the shaft inside the engine compartment and behold!  No water was entering the boat!  Apparently, the rope had pressed the shaft off center, allowing the water to enter.  Once the rope was gone, the shaft returned to its proper position and resealed itself.

Even though I was able to run the engine for another 45 minutes to complete the charging of the batteries, I plan to have everything inspected by a mechanic when I get into Halifax.

And I enjoyed my hot shower as I prepared for a much needed night of sleep.

Sunday, July 31, proved to be an especially satisfying day, even if there was no sailing.  I woke well refreshed from my sleep and after some thinking and breakfast, I decided to row the dinghy out to where my lost stern anchor was likely residing on the muddy bottom.  My boat hook was the only item I had on board that I could think might successfully snag the cut anchor line if I could reach the line on the bottom.  Unfortunately, it was also high tide and with my 6 feet long boat hook, I was unable to reach the bottom, let alone find and hook the lost line.

At this point I rowed into the Lodge Marina and see if they might have a grappling hook I might use to try and retrieve my lost stern anchor.  I thought if I might tow the hook behind the dinghy, then I had a good chance of snagging the anchor line.  Chester, the maintenance supervisor at the Lodge, was very helpful and eagerly set his mind to finding a solution.  They had no grapnel, but he went rummaging through his old gear and came up with a nine feet long hook, two 90 degree PVC pipes, and the end of a roll of tape.  He asked if I could make the grapnel I needed from the items, so off I went to build the jury rig grappling hook.

Jury rig grappling hook

It was still several hours before low tide, so I took my time and thought through how I might make it all work.  About two hours before low tide, I loaded my GPS, a portable depth sounder, and my makeshift grapnel into the dinghy.  I figured that would allow me about fours hours to search for the lost anchor.

I rowed up wind and up current to reach the area where I thought I had the best chance of finding the anchor.  The good news is that there had to be about 110 feet of anchor rode plus 17 feet of chain stretched across the bottom.  If I could only make the jury rig work, I thought I had a good chance of finding the wayward anchor.

After a couple tries, I discovered that the breeze and current were strong enough to push the dinghy without my rowing, so I could concentrate on holding the hook against the bottom.  Also, the river bottom seemed to be mostly soft mud so the three pronged makeshift hook would cut through the mud as we drifted downstream.  By using my hand held GPS, I had a good idea where the anchor might be, so I rowed about 100 feet upstream of where I thought I would cross the anchor rode, put the jury rig hook out the stern and using both hands to force the hook against the bottom, let the dinghy drift.

On a few occasions I thought I might have snagged something, but the hook came up empty or with some mud or leaves sticking to it.  After drifting about 300 feet, my arms were too tired to hold the hook into the muddy bottom, so I would lift it back into the tender and row back upstream to try again.

On my fourth attempt, it seemed like the drift had slowed somewhat and I first attributed that to a lull in the breeze, but when the breeze picked up, we still drifted ever so slowly.  It took a moment for my brain to click into gear, but it finally dawned on me that I may have snagged something.  I carefully lifted the hook off the bottom being certain to keep the hooks facing upwards so nothing on them might slip off.

I think my grin reached from one bank of the river to the other when I saw the slimy brown line looped around one of the PVC pipe bends!

Being very slow and deliberate, I gradually drew the hook into the dinghy, so I would not pull the line off the hook, but instead drew the dinghy upstream to the hooked anchor line.  It was very lucky how this all turned out.  I had hooked the line only 30 feet from the chain, so I had over 80 feet of line to one side while there was line, chain and anchor to the other side of the line.  If I had hooked the chain, the makeshift grapnel may have failed, if I had hooked the line near the cut end, the line might have just slipped off the hook.

As it turned out, I only spent about half an hour in the dinghy before I found the anchor.  I spent the rest of the afternoon hauling up the anchor, chain and line, putting them on Kelly's deck, then cleaning up the mess, including me.

New bow rig for Guardian anchor

Over the past couple weeks I had spent quite some time while we were underway thinking about a better way to rig the Guardian anchor (now known as the “prodigal” anchor!).  While it stayed put on the cabin top, just forward of the mast, I didn't like how it kept trying to snag the jib sheets every time we tacked.  I had seen a number of other boats with the anchor suspended from the bow pulpit, but I also had to be sure the oversized Guardian didn't foul the primary CQR anchor or get in the way when tying the bow dock lines.  Calling on my recollection of how the secondary anchor was hung on “Steel Farm's” bow pulpit, I rigged Kelly's the same way and all is ready to face the open sea.

Kelly IV and I have now traveled over 1665 nautical miles, and swam a few yards, from Erie, PA.

Portage Cove, Isaacs Harbour, Liscombe Lodge, NS - July 27-30, 2011

Kelly IV and I have now experienced our first major “Adventure” at sea!

I awoke about 5am on the 27th when I heard the diesels on the Silver Shalis warming up. I had planned to begin my own trip early, so it worked out just fine.  I got to see the very cool and adept handling of a very large and exquisite motor yacht deftly move away from the seawall, cruise cautiously past Kelly, and make her way into the open waters of St. Peter's Bay . . . All in Reverse!  It was quite a sight to see.

By 6am Kelly and I were also underway in the open waters of the bay.  St. Peter's Bay is a deep well-protected body of water, especially when the winds are out of the northeast.  We motored through the bay and even raised the jib as the northeasterly breeze gave us a boost in speed.

Gradually, over the next couple of hours, the breeze increased to about 20 knots and worked its way to being more of an east wind.  The waves were growing larger as well and we began to see and hear the lightning and thunder of unforecasted thunderstorms.  At times the rain was so heavy that I was convinced that everything on deck was well washed and free of salt!

Some of the waves seemed left over from the strong southwest breezes that blew through on the 26th, but some may have been built up by nearby storm weather.  Regardless, we were seeing waves in the range of 7-10 feet or so.  These waves were much further apart than the large waves we've seen on Lake Erie, but they still were able to set Kelly rockin' and rollin'.

Although I had eaten a light breakfast during the first hour or so that we were underway, the up, down, left, right, constantly moving this way and that began to make me feel a bit queasy.  By 9:45am I had “fed the fishes” twice.  Fortunately, I always feel fine for at least for an hour or so afterward.

The motion must have been pretty severe because about 10am I heard some clanging behind me.  I turned to see that the dinghy davits and solar panel mounts were breaking loose and stainless steel tubes were banging against the stern pulpit.  I spent the next 30 minutes hanging over the stern pulpit, preparing the dinghy to be towed and tying up the loose banging parts so they wouldn't be lost overboard or damaged.  Finally, the dinghy was towing behind Kelly and I could figure out our next step.

Portage Cove anchorage

I had plotted courses to several anchorages along the Nova Scotian coast so that I would be able to tuck into any one of them as needed.  This seemed to be just such an occasion, so we made our way into Portage Cove, just south of the town of Canso.  We only made 29 nautical miles but it was the right thing to do.  With the early start, we had the anchor down before noon.  Portage Cove proved to be in a very rural spot with no cell or internet available.  Without those distractions,  I was able to spend the afternoon disassembling the loose parts, reworking them so they (hopefully) won't work loose again, and jury rigging the damaged solar panel mounts so they can complete the trip to Halifax without any more issues.  I should be able to get the damaged mounts replaced properly there.  The dinghy was back in her proper place hanging from the davits and Kelly was all ready to brave the elements for the next leg.

Fog in the Portage Cove anchorage

The next morning dawned clear, but by the time I had 70 percent of the anchor rode stowed and began hauling on the last few feet of chain, a thick, soupy fog rolled in.  The weather forecast said the fog would clear in the morning, so I let the anchor line and chain back out and waited for the fog to clear.  Before 10am the fog was gone and we were underway.  The breeze was from the northwest, so I was hopeful of sailing, but after only a couple hours, the wind backed off and we could only motorsail.  The day presented a mix of cloudy skies and patchy clouds, but by the time we entered our harbor for the night it was a beautiful, clear, blue sky with a bright setting sun.  We set the anchor in Isaacs Harbour, Nova Scotia, just across the small harbor from Goldboro, Nova Scotia.  Both are neat little towns each consisting of a church and several homes, but no real commercial district that could be seen from Kelly IV.

Isaacs Harbour, Nova Scotia

The Friday forecast was for light winds then shifting to 15 knots out of the southwest in the afternoon.  Of course, my trajectory is now southwest, so the 15 knots on the nose was to be avoided.  Kelly and I departed Isaacs Harbour by 5:30am so we could make Liscombe Mills by Noon, before the breeze battered us.

It was a beautiful morning with the sun dawning bright and clear, but we could see thick fog to the southwest of us.  By the time it moved in, we were off shore and the fog was well behind us.  With the very light air, it was strictly a day of motoring.  The waves were very small, but there was still a swell of about 3-5 feet moving underneath Kelly all morning.  We nosed into Liscombe Harbour and coursed through the winding river until it seemed there was barely room to turn around.  We could see the dock at Liscombe Lodge about 1/3 mile away when we dropped anchor.

Liscombe River anchorage

As forecasted, the wind did build to about 15 knots out of the southwest, so it was good that we had settled into a cozy anchorage.  The push from the southwesterly made the rowing of the dinghy an easy and fun exercise to the small marina at the Lodge.  I spent the sunny, breezy afternoon reading my book sitting on the deck overlooking the river at the Liscombe Lodge, then out of the breeze in the lee of the tall pine trees I rowed back to Kelly for the evening.

While reading my book below in the cabin, I heard some voices nearby.  I climbed on deck to see a canoe with two couples.  They were parents, son, and daughter-in-law, canoeing from the Lodge on their annual vacation here.  We chatted a bit and I discovered that they were originally from Nova Scotia, but now hail from New Brunswick, about an hour from the Maine border.

With the forecast calling for strong southerly winds and rain today, we'll spend all day Saturday at anchor.  Surprisingly, there is no cell coverage here, but I do have internet access using my external antenna on board Kelly.  I just posted the log about the Bras d'Or Lakes and will be adding this log shortly.

Kelly IV and I have now traveled over 1665 nautical miles from Erie, PA.

St. Peter's, Baddeck, NS - July 23-26, 2011

When I finished writing the last Log, I was recalling the forecast from memory and thinking it was unfavorable.  As it turns out, I was confusing the forecast from the next day.  Once I double-checked the actual forecast online, I realized that I had a very nice day ahead of me and left Port Hawkesbury immediately without even uploading the pictures to the website.

With the slight breeze easing me away from the pier, it was an easy departure.  As Kelly and I motored out of the harbor, we saw what Mia and I had both thought was some sort of shoreside industrial facility or oil refinery.  But I also noticed a large number of tugboats, including several large ocean-going tugs.  As I made way east through the Canso Strait, I came to realize that the tugboats were all very close to the industrial facility and it was definitely out in the channel.  This confused me as I had been convinced, when Mia and I saw it a couple days before, that it was on shore.

Ocean tugs hauling drilling platform out of Port Hawkesbury, Canso Strait

Suddenly it dawned on me that this monstrously large platform was in fact underway!  There were two large ocean tugs pulling the platform forward (eastward) while two smaller tugs were tied to the rear corners of the platform and were running in reverse!  I could see the towlines and the wash of the reversing tugs quite clearly in the close quarters as I passed the platform in the Strait.  In addition, there was another ocean tug and another standard tug, each immediately available to help their sister ships, as needed.  And just to keep things interesting, another large freighter was headed westbound through the Strait while the platform, tugs and Kelly were all headed eastbound.  Since I was doing about 5 to 6 knots, I estimated that the tugs and platform were making about 3 knots.  Slow enough that I could pass them, but fast enough that I was very near them for quite some time.

The sun broke out and made for a beautiful, if windless, day.  I had a gorgeous trip through the Lennox Passage which is a small boat channel between the Canso Strait, Chedabucto Bay and St. Peter's Bay.  It reduces a boat's exposure to the open ocean to just a few miles, and it includes beautiful scenery as we passed several bays and coves.

The Lennox Passage also had a lifting (bascule) bridge at Burnt Island.  The operator there clearly had his lessons from the Valleyfield school of “Ignore the Boater” bridge operations.  I called the operator on several VHF radio channels for several minutes as I approached the bridge, but got no replys.  When Kelly got to within a hundred yards of the bridge we began circling, in hopes that the bridge would open.  It did begin opening after a short while, but seemed to stop when it was only halfway open!  I turned back and circled again, radioing the bridge to find out if the bridge opened any further.  Since I was concerned that the operator (who still did not respond) might close the bridge, I pressed ahead and kept Kelly's mast as far from the edge of the bridge as I could, about 5 feet!

Seal in Lenox Passage

A couple porpoises and a seal swam by and I got a photo of the seal.  Just before entering the harbor at St. Peter's, it is necessary to go through a small canal, lock and turnstyle bridge, all in less than half a mile.  The lockmaster and his assistant were very helpful and accommodating.  Since the public is encouraged to be up close and learn about the canal and lock, Kelly and I were the entertainment for a family visiting from British Columbia.  The BC family even helped me by handing my docklines to me when it was time to depart the lock.

St. Peter's Lock and Canal

After spending the night at anchor in Strachan Cove off the St. Peter's Lions Marina, Kelly and I set off through the St. Peter's Inlet of Bras d'Or Lake.  With the breeze just light to nothing it was a pleasant sail in the bright sunlight and sparkling water.  We passed through the bascule bridge at Barra Strait.  This is the only water that connects Bras d'Or Lake with Great Bras d'Or Lake.

Bascule bridge at Barra Strait

Being a small channel, it is one of the few places on the Lakes where there is a noticeable current.  Kelly and I saw about a knot and a half as we passed under the bridge.  A few miles north of the bridge, I recognized a Nonsuch 30 passing us headed south towards the bridge.  It was Kanik, a boat I had been keeping contact with via email as they were sailing from Toronto to the maritimes down the St. Lawrence River, just as Kelly IV was.  Just off Baddeck Harbour the wind finally built to a whopping 10 knots, but we were at our destination so I picked up a mooring at the Bras d'Or Yacht Club.

Mooring at the Bras d'Or Yacht Club

I spent the afternoon browsing through the museum dedicated to the life and work of Alexander Graham Bell, the inventor of the telephone.  He spent much of his life after the telephone on an estate near Baddeck.  He used the property as base for his many inventions and product improvements.  I was surprised to learn that he was responsible for the initiation of flight in Canada as well as developing several successful hydrofoils that set world record speed records that stood for ten years.

The next day, July 24, I spent in town doing a little grocery shopping, laundry, and mostly catching up on my email and website activity.  I did have a bit of bad luck when I went to fire up the electric outboard to return in the dinghy to Kelly, nothing happened.  In the past, the light, little motor would just start humming and push us where we wanted to go.  I tried a number of different adjustments, plugging and unplugging, cleaning, drying, etc., but nothing worked.

Kelly IV at her mooring, Baddeck

I was very lucky to have several sunny days on Cape Breton Island and enjoyed one sunny day motoring the 31 miles back to St. Peter's.  Cell phone coverage was good, even on the Lake, so I phoned the folks at Torqeedo, the manufacturers of the electric outboard, while I was enroute.  They made a few suggestions which I followed through upon anchoring back at St. Peter's but still no joy.  I called them back and made arrangements to ship the motor to their Canadian shop in Montreal.

That evening I enjoyed some Celtic music provided by a few members of the Royal Nova Scotia Yacht Squadron.  They were in St. Peter's for the night beginning their annual Bras d'Or Lakes Cruise.

St. Peter's anchorage

As I sat there enjoying the music, I overheard the lady next to me mention that her boat was “Kanik”.  I was very pleasantly surprised to learn that she was indeed from the same Kanik that I had been swapping emails with!  She and her husband and I had a wonderful chat about our respective trips so far and our plans going forward.  There log is online at:  "https://www.sailblogs.com/member/kanik/280729".

I spent the next sunny day in St. Peter's building custom shaped cardboard boxes from several I picked up at the local liquor store.  The custom made boxes held the electric outboard & tiller and I shipped the parts to the shop in Montreal.  I also shipped the Bras d'Or Cruising Guide back to Jerry.  You'll recall he is the friendly sailboat cruiser, shopkeeper and yacht club member who helped me out with the fairlead on Prince Edward Island.

Silver Shalis and Kelly IV

Late that afternoon I topped off Kelly's diesel and water tanks, then moved her through the bridge and lock and tied up for the night in the canal.  The forecast predicted winds from the north so I wanted to be ready to leave early.  If all went well, I'd make a long leg towards Halifax.

Silver Shalis and Kelly IV

When I exited the lock, I couldn't see the end of the canal because a huge motor yacht, Silver Shalis, was tied up in the canal.  It was such a huge vessel that I had to go past it to see if there was any room for me to tie up.  Once by, I saw there was just enough room for Kelly, so I circled back and tied up with my stern facing the stern of Silver Shalis.

Kelly IV and I have now traveled over 1561 nautical miles from Erie, PA.

R2D2 fire hydrant above St. Peter's Canal, courtesy
of https://www.kuriositas.com/2010/10/star-wars-fire-hydrants.html

Yoda fire hydrant above St. Peter's Canal, courtesy
of https://www.kuriositas.com/2010/10/star-wars-fire-hydrants.html

Borden, PEI; Caribou, Port Hawkesbury, NS - July 12-22, 2011

Although I've only sailed three days since my last update, we've been doing a lot.  Since Mia, my wife, had a car, we decided to just do our Prince Edward Island (PEI) touring by car and left Kelly IV

tied up with the very friendly folks in Richibucto.  After three days on PEI, I set sail down the length of the Northumberland Strait (the body of water that separates PEI from New Brunswick (NB) & Nova Scotia (NS) with plans to meet Mia three days later in Port Hawkesbury, NS.

With Kelly safely berthed in Richibucto, Mia and I drove across the Confederation Bridge to PEI.  We drove to Summerside, PEI and stopped in at the Silver Fox Curling and Yacht Club.  I was looking for a bullseye fairlead to properly lead the starboard side davit tackle line without chafing.  For the non-sailors, it is a small plastic block with a stainless steel eye that a small rope runs through.

Bullseye fairlead

 Since the stainless eye is very smooth, the rope slides without wearing away.  Once I added the solar panels, I needed to add the fairlead to eliminate the chafe point created by the solar panel installation.

I figured someone at the Silver Fox Curling & Yacht Club may know where I could

Silver Fox Curling & Yacht Club

buy the bullseye fairlead.  When I asked Mandy, the bartender, about it, she immediately thought of Jerry, a member of the club whose business is a chandlery selling marine parts and equipment.  While he sells mostly to the local fishermen, he personally owns and cruises a sailboat, so Mandy was sure he'd know what I needed and maybe would have the part.  Mandy called Jerry, he knew exactly what I was looking for and he had one in stock.  Even better, he told Mandy that he'd bring it to the club, since he'd be stopping by after work.

When Jerry stopped by the club, he gave me the fairlead and said “no charge”!  Of course, I had to ply him with a couple drinks so I could at least return the favor and pick up a little local knowledge.  It turns out that Jerry has cruised the Bras d'Or Lake many times on his own sailboat and had a very detailed cruising guide for Bras d'Or Lake he was willing to loan to me.  We also learned about a great lobster meal that we enjoyed at the fundraiser for the local chapter of the Royal Canadian Legion (RCL).

Lobster pot races at the Silver Fox Curling & Yacht Club

The people were great, the food delicious and we enjoyed the company of a young couple from Toronto who shared the table with us.  Talk about “local knowledge”!  We'd never had known about the RCL lobster dinner without asking the locals at the Silver Fox Curling and Yacht Club.

Mia and I drove to Cavendish, at the north central part of PEI, so we could get an early start in the morning touring the area called home by Lucy Maud Montgomery, the author of “Anne of Green Gables”.  Mia is a big fan and has read all the books in the series, so this was a “must see” for our vacation together.  We saw the post office where Lucy Montgomery lived, worked, and mailed her manuscripts from.  It was a cold blustery day which we spent driving and walking along the rugged, red rock shore of northern PEI gradually working our way back into Summerside.  In Summerside we picked up the Bras d'Or Lake Cruising Guide then had a nice dinner and enjoyed a show at the College of Piping before finding a hotel for the night.

The next day we traveled the eastern end of PEI, driving along the shore, visiting lighthouses, watching the fishing boats and enjoying another lobster

Horse sand sculpture at Bears Head Lighthouse

Northern shoreline PEI

dinner along the shoreside.  That evening we returned to Kelly IV in Richibucto, NB and spent the night on board.  Our new friends on Ariel from Syracuse, that Kelly and I met in

Mermaid sand sculpture at Wood Island Lighthouse

Northwest PEI coastline

L'Anse a'Beaufils, Quebec (QC), were tied up across the pier from Kelly, so I introduced Mia and we all got acquainted and caught up on our travels to NB from QC.

The next morning, Dick, from Ariel, helped Mia push Kelly off the dock and I headed out of Richibucto.  Since Mia and I had already played tourist on PEI, we were next focused on seeing as much of Cape Breton Island and the Bras d'Or Lake as possible.  Since the weather had kept Kelly in Richibucto, we now only had a few days to enjoy Cape Breton, so we felt our best bet was to move Kelly to Cape Breton Island when the weather allowed, then visit Cape Breton by car, so we could see a lot more of the island, than we might if only visiting by boat.

Kelly and I headed east across the Northumberland Strait toward the anchorage at Borden, PEI.  Finding the way out of Richibucto was much easier than the way in and I did follow the correct channel all the way, avoiding the chancy trip across the shallow bar at the river mouth.  With the wind blowing from the west, behind us, we were able to ride the waves downwind, but the breeze was too light to raise the sail.  As Kelly made her way east of Cape Egmont, the waves became less bouncy, the ride smoother and soon we could begin to see the highest arches of the 13km long Confederation Bridge.

Confederation Bridge, PEI - Nova Scotia

Confederation Bridge

Kelly IV passes below the Confederation Bridge

It is a very long bridge, reminiscent of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel in the way that it winds its way across the open waters connecting two major land masses that are often out of sight of each other.  While Mia and I had crossed the bridge twice in her rental car, it is a very different experience to watch the bridge very gradually appear out of the horizon.  First, just the highest three arches where the shipping traffic has to cross under, then bit-by-bit, the main length of the bridge, and finally the entire bridge in all its glory running across the entire width of the Northumberland Strait from New Brunswick to Prince Edward Island.

When the bridge became operational, the ferry service at the same point was shut down, but the harbor for the old ferry is still actively used by local fisherman and provided the safe anchorage for Kelly IV for the first night of our three-day delivery to Cape Breton Island.

The next morning was bright and sunny, so we were off towards Caribou, Nova Scotia.  As the wind was on Kelly's beam, I tried to set sail, but each time the wind would peter out and our speed would drop to 3 knots or less.  At that speed, we wouldn't make the next anchorage before nightfall, so I'd have to fire up the engine.  This process was then repeated 4 times.  Finally, about  1:30pm I acknowledged that I'd have to motor sail and completed the beautiful day under mainsail and iron genny.

Caribou, Nova Scotia

The anchorage at Caribou Harbour is beside the Wood Islands Ferry terminal on the Nova Scotia side, near Pictou, NS.  Mia had stayed near here while Kelly and I were in Borden, PEI.  By this time Mia had moved on to visit Cape Breton Island.  The weather forecast for Monday, July 18 was for rain and a “risk of thunderstorms”, but the wind was to be from the west.  Since the wind was favorable, I decided to set out and take advantage of it.  When I raised the anchor at 6:30am, the breeze was blowing about 15-18 knots which made the task of getting the anchor up a bit arduous.  I began about 5:45am and had about 45 minutes of hauling the anchor from the bow, then returning to the cockpit to adjust the motor and wheel, then back to the bow.  This cycle was necessary to push the bow forward since the wind was too strong for me to pull Kelly against it.  But the wind would then blow the bow off to the left or right until I couldn't pull up any more anchor rode.  At that point I'd have to go back to the cockpit, steer the bow back into the wind and usually had to adjust the throttle to better match the gusty winds.

Once out of the harbor, I had the winds on my beam and the sun low on the horizon and peeking below the clouds.  It was good that I left early as the first few hours of sun were the last I'd see until Kelly and I tied up at Port Hawkesbury that night.  By 9:15am the first rain showers caught up with us and they didn't stop until about 4pm.  I thought about raising some sail, but the now southwest wind was a bit fluky and variable, never really blowing much over 10 knots.  Not enough from the stern to push Kelly IV on a run.  Also with the wet decks and a forecast that included thunderstorms, I was reluctant to raise sails that I'd have to reef or furl in a hurry if the winds picked up.  I seem to be pretty conservative in my decisions, especially when I'm single-handing.

Since we were following the coastline, it was pretty easy to pick a point of land and steer to that.  I was in full foul weather gear including bib pants, new fisherman's boots (I bought them in Richibucto), two fleece sweaters, my bright yellow jacket, and my broad brimmed hat.  I prefer the hat to the hood with my jacket, because the hood blocks both my peripheral vision as well as most of the sounds.  My big floppy hat directs the rain off my back, keeps it away from my glasses and gives me clear vision and hearing in all directions.

My course took me northeast to Cape George, then southeast across St. Georges Bay into the Strait of Canso.  Canso Strait is the body of water that makes Cape Breton an island by cutting it off from mainland Nova Scotia.  As I turned the corner into St. Georges Bay, I could see a distinct line in the water where the wind changed direction and was coming from due south, even southeast, which meant it was now on the nose.  Fortunately, the breeze remained pretty light and the waves were less than 2 feet, so the motoring was straightforward.

Of course, things couldn't remain this simple, if wet.  The crossing of the Bay is a 20 mile or four hour trip.  I enjoyed a terrific welcome into St. Georges Bay when a couple of dolphins (porpoises?) appeared off Kelly's starboard side and bounded away showing themselves a couple more times as they disappeared into the rainy mist.

Just moments later the first thunderclaps announced themselves.  As I could see on the radar, Kelly and I were in for a series of thunderstorms that would roll over us pretty regularly for the next few hours.  Fortunately, all of the storms were pretty benign, at least where we were in St. Georges Bay.  The wind would pick up a little as each storm would run by, but the breeze never hit 20 knots and usually stayed less than 12 knots.  Given the rainy, misty, cloudy weather, we were out of sight of land for the entire trip across St. Georges Bay.  I could see land on the radar, never more than 10 miles away, but there was no seeing anything through the drizzle and sometimes pouring rain.

Finally, I could just make out a slightly darker splotch against the distant but barely brightening sky.  I checked the radar and it seemed that I was beginning to see the southeastern shore of St. Georges Bay.  As we came closer, the rain stopped, but now fog was definitely filling the Canso Strait ahead of us.  While the hills on both sides of the Strait were quite visible, the Strait itself was obliterated with fog.

Since there is a lock in the middle of the Strait, I called them to make my arrangements to go through.  While on the radio I asked them about traffic between me and them.  They told me about two other sailboats, one I should be seeing soon and the other was in the lock as they spoke and would pass me as I approached the lock.  I kept peering through the fog and adjusting the radar trying to identify the first sailboat.  Just as I was passing the Canso Light, I could make out the distant sailboat, about a mile ahead of me.  I could also see their target on the radar.  They passed easily quite some distance in front of me, probably heading for an anchorage I had plotted a course to, just in case I needed it.

About 2 miles from the lock, I saw the second sailboat veer off their course straight towards me.  They had a crew on the bow waving at me, so I turned towards them.  We spoke to each other as we circled about twenty yards from each other.  They wanted to know the weather in St. Georges Bay, as they had been clobbered by a gale on the Atlantic side of the Strait.  I let them know that while it had been very wet, the winds were light and from the south.  They seemed relieved to hear it.  They spoke with a French accent so I assumed they were from Quebec.  Only as I pulled away from their boat did I see that their ensign appeared to be the French flag, from France!  I wonder if they had crossed the Atlantic on their sailboat?

I radioed the lock to say I was ready to enter and they let me know that I only needed to just steady Kelly in the middle of the lock, that I should not tie up.  So when I entered the lock, I just put the motor in neutral and with minor adjustments let her float in the middle of the lock.  As soon as the gates behind me closed, the gates ahead of me opened immediately and they were radioing to tell me it was time to depart.  It was the simplest, quickest lock-through we've done.  Very appropriate, since I had to single hand this one!

Port Hawkesbury, Cape Breton Island, NS

After topping off my fuel in Port Hawkesbury, Kelly IV and I tied up in the adjacent Strait of Canso Yacht Club, a very small marina behind the government wharf.  Mia picked me up the next day and we drove to the city of Sydney on the northeast coast of Cape Breton Island.  We enjoyed a walk along their waterfront, sightseeing including their “Big Fiddle”, a great seafood dinner, and an open mike for music from locals and visitors.

The next day we enjoyed beautiful sunshine which was perfect for our day of driving along the Cabot Trail

Cabot Trail

which encircles the entire northwest shorelines and Highlands National Park, ending up Alexander Graham Bell's town of Baddeck for a sumptuous lobster dinner.  On the return drive to Kelly, we saw a bald eagle flying along Bras d'Or Lake and took a photo.

Bald Eagle, Cape Breton Island

The next day we drove along the east coast and experienced the wonderful history of the Louisburg Fortress.  Like Williamsburg, they have picked a point in time (1744 in Louisburg) and the entire Fortress, including actors in period dress, is in live operation as it would have been in 1744.

Cannon firing at Louisburg Fortress

The only thing missing was the busy harbor.  Of course, the harbor is still there, but it did not have the busy coming and going of boats and ships as they plied their codfish trade and military activity.

We continued our drive to include the small fishermen's museum in the tiny town of Main a'Dieu.  The little museum was very fascinating with a room full of boat models, marine gear, news clippings from the past hundred years and many assorted bits and displays.  Our return trip took us to another seafood dinner where Mia enjoyed her King Crab legs and I had a seafood linguine alfredo that seemed to have more meat than pasta!

Early this morning Mia left Kelly and me for her return to Halifax, home and work.  Since the weather forecast is a bit ugly for this morning, I decided to catch up on the Trip Log and get this posted.  I hope to visit Bras d'Or Lake as soon as the weather permits.

Kelly IV and I have now traveled over 1470 nautical miles from Erie, PA.

Gaspe' Peninsula, Perce Rock, L'Anse a' Beaufils, QC, and Richibucto, NB - July 7-11, 2011

July 7 began cold, gray, rainy and windy, with a questionable forecast, so we decided to stay in port for a day.  With the delay, Kris would not be able to make the next leg of the trip and still make his commitments back home so he planned his departure from Riviere au Renard.

Since we were in town for the day, we decided to get a few things done.  I noticed a man carrying propane tanks to his boat, so I asked him if we could fill up nearby.  He not only told me where, but also offered to take me up the hill in his car.  That way I'd only be walking downhill on the return to the marina.  He and his wife were driving to the town of Gaspe' for a few purchases and offered to get us anything we might need.  The only thing I could think of was that Kris might want a ride to Gaspe' for better bus service.  As we all talked, we discovered that the cruising couple wanted to leave their car in Gaspe' but their boat was in Riviere au Renard.  It all worked out quite nicely.  When they returned from their shopping trip, Kris would borrow their car for a little sight-seeing and leave their car at the marina in Gaspe'.  He would have a better bus schedule from there and they would find their car at the marina when they returned on their boat to Gaspe'.

That evening, after Kris left, I caught up on my email and also enjoyed a local trio playing free music at the marina office.  My new friends, who loaned their car to Kris, were also there along with most of the other cruisers in the small marina.  The forecast for the next day was light winds, but clear and sunny.

Whale at Cap des Rosiers

It proved to be the perfect day to take photos and it was a good thing since there were whales, birds, islands, rock formations, cliffs, lighthouses and other boats to take pictures of!

Cap des Rosiers Lighthouse

Since I was sailing this leg alone, my track gets a little screwy at times and I blame it on the picture taking.  At first Kelly and I passed by Cap des Rosiers and the lighthouse there.  We also saw numerous whales and birds as we motored south in the calm, blue water of the morning.  Before midday we were passing the impressive cliffs and rocks forming Cap Gaspe' and the lighthouse posed above these magnificent dropoffs.

The wind began to pick up so I set sail but the breeze proved to be from the southeast and since I was headed due south, it was too close for us to point into it.  After sailing west into Gaspe' Bay, I furled the genoa and motor sailed under the mainsail alone.  I was surprised just how large Perce Rock proved to be.  It was easily visible from over 5 miles away and is the most dramatic formation of a long line of impressive cliffs jutting into the sea.

Cap Gaspe'

Just across the strait from Perce Rock is Ile Bonaventure, site of the largest single bird colony in North America.  I literally sailed through thousands of birds, flying, diving and swimming around me and I didn't even sail near the colony which was on the far side of the island.

As I sailed through this area of significant natural beauty and majesty, I was blessed to see a few more whales!  This leg proved to be a very memorable step in our journey!

Perce Rock

Perce Rock

Kelly IV and I wrapped up the day's sailing by tucking away into the small harbor at L'Anse a'Beaufils.  I was soon followed by a boat from Syracuse, NY, the first Americans I've seen since the boat from Michigan that we met in the Batiscan River.  I chatted with Dick and Anna and joined them for a drink at the nice pub & Restaurant across the harbor.  They had live music and a show presented by a Quebec celebrity, but we were both sailing the next day, so we ended our evening a bit early and missed the music.

L'Anse a'Beaufils

Since my next leg was a 24 hour, 123 mile solo sailing adventure, I merely needed to depart in daylight, so I'd arrive in daylight.  I saw my new American friends off and spoke with the small steel boat owner across the pier from me.  He gutted his steel boat to a bare hull when he bought it, rebuilt the interior completely, including insulation, and designed and installed a twin masted schooner rig with junk sails.  No not bad sails!  Sails like the Chinese used in the sailing junks!  :-)

Twin masted schooner rig with junk sails off Ile Bonaventure

Although the forecast was not pretty, I set sail anyway, as the winds were currently light and forecasted to turn northerly, which was important given my sailing direction was still due south.

Within an hour the rain started and stayed with me for the next nine and half hours.  Since the wind was light and the rain varied from misty to steady, it was easy to motor, if a bit damp.  With Kelly's dodger and bimini, I stayed pretty dry and the boat got a good thorough cleaning with nature's showers.

Shortly after dark the last rain clouds swept away and finally I could see the sky, including a gibbous moon and the glorious star-lit heavens.  The breeze filled from the northwest to about 15 knots, so we were able to sail on a beam reach for a few hours before the late night hours took their toll.  I needed some rest and there were no other boats to be seen so I rigged Kelly to hove to and fell into my bunk for a brief nap.  An hour or so later I awoke refreshed and resumed our sail, although now the winds had increased and the waves were building.  I had not taken any seasickness medication so I was somewhat concerned as the waves were occasionally 6 feet high.  But I needn't have worried.  Apparently I have gotten my sea legs, as I never got seasick despite the bouncy and rocking conditions.  I went below several times to change clothes, get some food and water, etc., and handled it all without any ill effect.  Those who know my sailing habits know that I was never able to do that in the past.

After a couple hours of this rollicking sail, I was feeling very drowsy, so we hove to again for another nap.  When I awoke, the day was fully bright, even though it was only 4am.  I still had another 7 hours of sailing, so I munched some food in the cockpit while we continued the sail in 20 knots of breeze and 4 to 6 feet waves.  After a few hours of boisterous sailing, I guess I was eager for the long day to wrap up and my empty bunk was calling to me, so I fired up the motor so we could motor sail the last several miles.  The motor increased our speed from 5 knots to almost 7 knots which got us into port over an hour sooner.

Richibucto, New Brunswick

I am now tied up in the small marina in Richibucto, New Brunswick.  After getting settled, showered, and a quick lunch, I fell into my bunk for an afternoon nap.  By dinner time I awoke and got busy washing the boat to remove the heavy salt from the spray during the morning sail.  Unfortunately, I left a port open and got my bunk and sleeping bag wet, so I spent the evening in the local laundromat drying things out.

July 11's weather was forecasted to be rainy with winds 20 – 30 knots, so I decided to stay in port.  I got a few things done, including this update to my online log.  Both Port and Starboard diesel tanks needed refilling, so I emptied all 3 jerry cans into them.  A friendly member of the marina took me in his car to refill the 3 jerry cans, so I am topped off for fuel and ready for my next leg.

Mia, my wife, has flown to the maritimes and we are planning to meet in Summerside, Prince Edward Island tomorrow night, assuming I depart tomorrow.  Although it is expected to be rainy, the winds will be southwesterly, in my favor, so I think I'll go anyway.

Kelly IV and I have now traveled over 1286 nautical miles from Erie, PA.

Tadoussac, Rimouski, Matan, Grand Vallee, Riviere au Renard, QC - June 22 – July 6, 2011

Jim and I left Tadoussac in our respective sailboats a few hours before the guide book recommended, but the suggested time would have us arriving after dark, something neither of us wanted to do.  The timing urged was based on avoiding the standing waves at the mouth of the Saguenay River as the

outflow ran into the tidal flow of the St. Lawrence River.  I have read that at certain times the standing waves can exceed eight feet!  Of course we wanted to avoid anything like that, so we asked Sean, our harbormaster in Tadoussac.  He let us know that a boat that had just been out to the mouth of the Saguenay reported waves of 4 – 6 feet.  We left about an hour or so later and encountered waves about 3 – 5 feet, so they were quite manageable.  Regardless, we only had to deal with them for a few hundred yards and all was calm again.

The day was very calm so once again we were motoring.  Since we decided to stay within a few hundred yards of each other, we occasionally would offer a comment or info to each other on the radio.  Our best conversations were whale sightings.  On at least three occasions one of us would see a whale (or whaleS!) and let the other know where to look.  In this way we were able to see a couple pods of the white beluga whales and a Minke whale.  The pods of belugas included about 15 animals, total.  It was great to see the huge, gentle giants cruising along.

The trip was quite uneventful, but still it was fun, especially as the current still offered a positive lift as we regularly hit speeds well over 7 knots over the ground while we were only motoring at 5 or 6 knots through the water.

Kris joins Kelly IV in Rimouski

We pulled into the marina at Rimouski to be met by our most friendly harbormaster, Sophie.  It turns out she is studying at the local maritime university to become an engineer, the kind that runs the large power plants that drive the huge freighters across the seas of the world.  She was a youthful, college-age girl, but was very knowledgeable about boats and truly helpful as we docked our vessels. She really knew what she was doing and, being bilingual, she was easy to communicate with.

In Rimouski, I was to meet my next crewmate and Jim was to work on three nagging problems:  a failed VHF radio, a stuck wind indicator, and a non-functional cell phone.  I also wanted to top off my groceries, as the next several ports would have less variety in their smaller stores.

Jim was concerned that he would have to climb his mast to rectify the problem with his radio, but solved his VHF problem by quickly discovering a bad connection at the back of the radio, so he got his radio working in short order.  Even so, he still had to climb the mast to relieve the stuck windex.  I loaned him my ATN Top-Climber, as it enables a solo-climber to reach the masthead without anyone working the winch or

Jim's "Steel Farm"

windless on deck.  I stayed on deck below, just to help, if needed, but Jim learned the new technique and climbed his mast without a hitch.  Once he renewed the wind instrument, he came down and only had the cell phone issue to settle.  Unfortunately, that required the phone company which wasn't available until Monday.

I walked to the grocery and ended up lugging almost forty pounds of juices, breakfast bars, cheese and assorted goodies almost a mile back to the marina.  I guess you can do anything, if there isn't another choice.

For dinner, Jim and I went to a nautically themed pub that Sophie recommended.  One of the waiters there let us know that Sidney Crosby played hockey there immediately before he joined the Pittsburgh Penguins.  Since I was wearing my Penguin t-shirt, it was cause for celebration!

On Friday morning, before 7am, Kris Bjornstad, my new crew arrived.  He had to travel overnight by bus from Moncton, New Brunswick, to Rimouski, changing buses and finally getting to the marina after 6am.  As the weather was gorgeous, we planned to set sail and let Kris catch up on his sleep while we were underway.  We bid goodby to Jim as we left our slip and then au revoir to Sophie after we topped up our diesel and we were on our way to Matane, Quebec.

Thw winds were non-existant at first, but built to the point where we thought we could make our way sailing.  Unfortunately, the wind was rather light, but at least favorable (southwesterly) so we motor sailed Kelly IV to the northeast as we ran up the coast of the Gaspe' Peninsula.  Kris caught up some much needed sleep while I enjoyed the bright sunny day and read my book while we motored along.

As the afternoon wore on, the wind picked up and we were finally able to make way under sail and shut down the faithful, reliable motor.  Upon our arrival at the commercial shipping harbor in Matane, we negotiated positioning with a local ferry (the ferry had the right-of-way by virtue of her size) as we made the u-turn back to the southwest and entered the harbor.  Based on input from Bluejacket's website and Gerald (from Batiscan), we decided we could just anchor in the security of this less than busy harbor and enjoy a quiet night hanging on the hook.

Starfish aboard the anchor rode in Matane

Another small sailboat joined us in the functional, not beautiful, anchorage as dusk fell.  The next morning we set off after a quiet breakfast at anchor.  The breeze was sufficient to sail, but we had several occasions to wonder if it might give up on us.  In the distance behind us we noticed a sailboat flying their spinnaker.  Since we were having trouble keeping our main and genoa filled, we were admiring the skill of our neighbor as he kept his spinnaker flying with seemingly no trouble.  We jibed a few times, shifting our whisker pole from port to starboard and back again, just to keep our sails filled.  We would be sailing on a port run, then wing-and-wing, then on a starboard run, then through the same changes again as the wind would shift behind us.

The great news is that we were truly sailing and enjoying a beautiful day of sun and breeze, a combination that we haven't seen a lot of so far this trip.  As we pressed into the night, our neighbor headed into port, probably St. Anne de Monts, while we pressed onward motor sailing into the evening.

Kris prepared a great dinner while we were underway and we prepared the boat for night sailing.

Sunset north of Sainte-Anne-des-Monts

Our destination was Grand Vallee, where we planned to arrive soon after dawn.  The forecast had called for a “risk of thunderstorms”, but we felt the risk was slight, so we pursued the overnight sail.  As it turned out we did get a few raindrops, but saw the light show from several thunderstorms over the land to our south and over the water many miles ahead of us.  Fortunately, the conditions around us were relatively benign.  Kris tried practicing his guitar and reading his music, but the close reading in the building swells was too much.  The “mal de mer” overcame him and he lost his dinner overboard.

It seems my past month underway has helped me avoid seasickness in conditions that used to bother me, so it was a beautiful night for me, as Kris slept to overcome the illness.  Once the storms cleared away, I was blessed with a grand view of the Milky Way, stars and constellations galore, and even the sparkling stars of the sea as the small creatures glittered in flashes along our wake.

Kris recovered and took over the helm about 3:30am after the sun had already been lighting up the northeastern sky.  The dark hours lasted from after 10pm to about 2:30am in these far northern latitudes.

In fact, we passed our northernmost point of this trip just minutes before Kris took over the helm.  He woke me about an hour later as we were entering the small bay at Grand Vallee.  By the time we had dropped our anchor in the somewhat calm waters, it was already a bright morning, even though it was not yet 5am!

Grand Vallee

After catching up on our sleep, we took our bright yellow dinghy into the floating docks attached to the public wharf which protected the small harbor.  We met a couple friendly fellows who let us know we were free to leave our dinghy for the day and we were welcome to tie Kelly up, if we wished.  We spent the day getting a bite to eat, visiting the local sights (church and covered bridge), adding a few provisions and preparing our routes for the next few days.  The local information center was very helpful as the lady there let us use a desk and internet to check weather and do our route planning on my laptop.

When we returned to the dinghy, we checked the depths around the floating docks and discovered that they may only have about 5 feet at low tide, too low for Kelly's new cruising draft of about 5 feet 2+ inches.  Regardless, the brusque breeze convinced us that we might find a quieter night tied to the seawall, rather than at anchor.  It turns out, we'd be wrong.  Although the boat's motion was much less, we were up every hour or so to adjust the lines and fender boards as the tide fell and rose again.  In the early morning hours, we were just too tired and made our changes just a little too late, incuring some bad scratches and ugly patches where the nice blue paint has now been rubbed away showing the bare fiberglass on Kelly's port side.

The forecast had changed overnight, so with a northerly wind called for, we left the seawall bound for Riviere au Renard (Fox River), the site of a small but important commercial fishing port.  If you've

seen “Deadliest Catch” on TV's Discovery Channel, and the views of Dutch Harbor, then you have a sense of what Riviere au Renard looks like.  Thankfully they have a small yacht harbor in a well-protected corner of the bay and we are tied up there tonight.  The forecast is iffy as 15 – 25 knots are forecast from the northeast to northwest, along with rain and thunderstorms.  The direction of the wind is fine for us, now that we are heading south, but the accompanying weather may make for waves and an uncomfortable, wet ride.

We'll listen to the forecast again in the morning and decide then, if and when we'll sail.

We have now traveled over 1100 nautical miles from Erie, PA.