Tropical Storm Irene, Rockland, ME - August 27-30, 2011

Hurricane Irene was downgraded to a tropical storm before it got to Maine.  Saturday began as the calm before the storm with temperatures in the high 70s and very little breeze.  I got another load of laundry done, and completed my preparations for the incoming storm.

Dinghy lashed on foredeck amongst a forest of masts

The most important element of storm preparation was securing Kelly IV safely.  Having the boatyard haul her out and set her up safely on shore accomplished that.  Also, there must be no opportunities for the storm winds to damage Kelly's canvas or equipment.  Even before hauling Kelly, I had removed the sails and stowed them below decks.  In addition, I rigged a crane using the whisker pole and some block and tackle to hoist the dinghy onto Kelly's foredeck.  Once lashed into place, the dinghy was not only secured, but also covered the hatch in the foredeck and the starboard side portlight insuring no leaks in those places.

Soloar panels tied down

Once on shore, I took off the bimini and the dodger and lashed down the solar panels so they wouldn't move in the high winds.  I wrapped the loose cockpit cushions into a single bundle wrapped in canvas and stuffed them under shock cords so they couldn't be blown away.  I also stowed the fenders into the small space between the aft seat and the steering wheel so they wouldn't catch the wind either.

Canvas and cockpit prepared for the storm

I took the four halyards and ran them so they were additional supports for the mast.  One along the forestay, another by the backstay and one port, the other starboard, each along the shrouds.  Other gear, like the anchors and diesel jerry cans were already lashed down.  The docklines and anchor lines were checked and confirmed secure.

Saturday evening brought rising winds as Irene bullied into town.  The storm center was many miles inland by this time, enough so that the winds in Rockland stayed out of the south and southwest.  This meant the harbor was much better protected than if the storm winds had come from the east, straight into the mouth of the harbor.  Although it was noisy and windy through the night, I slept fine only waking twice, enough to confirm there were no problems and fell back to sleep without even climbing out of my bunk.

Irene in Journey's End Marina

Dawn was barely discernible as Sunday's gray morning was nearly as dark as Saturday's night.  Periods of rain punctuated the hard driven winds, now blowing gale force or stronger.  Kelly IV stood firm with minimal vibrations of her mast when bludgeoned by the strongest gusts.  I walked around the boatyard between rainfalls and saw that all was well, despite the roaring wind and whistling lines of the sailboats.

I spent midday Sunday using the internet in the marina office and reading my book.  Early afternoon found me pushed down the street to a local pub where I found the Steelers playing the Falcons.  For about an hour the sun peeked from behind the clouds and the winds quieted.  I suspect that was the storm's eye as the gray clouds and blustery breeze soon came back to storm strength.

The storm winds buffeted my stroll into an uphill hike as I returned to Kelly IV.  All was well on board, the lashings securing the gear in the face of the 40 knot bully.  High tide came about 11pm, and it was a very high tide.  The marina staff had earlier expressed concern about the floating docks floating free of their pilings in an extremely high tide.  The piers and piles were bouncing at the top of their reach in the washing machine waves, but none were high enough to be damaged.

Once again, I slept well through the night and by morning all was normal.  The breeze still persisted, but was down to about 20 knots, a normal wind for these coastal waters.  The brilliant sunshine brightened the outlook for continuing our journey along the coast of Maine.

Irene batters boats at their moorings.  Glad Kelly IV was hauled out! 

Kelly IV and I have now travelled over 2177 nautical miles from Erie, PA and weathered a major storm without incident.

Cutler, Southwest Harbor, Rockland, ME - August 21-26, 2011

The guidebook suggests departing Westport, Nova Scotia about 1 hour before low tide to minimize the strong currents rushing against you as you head north, then northwest for Maine.  Since Kelly IV and I only average about 5 knots, this was both good and bad advice.  Good for the above reason, but the weather forecast strong winds building in the early evening and waiting for the tide would have us arriving with the strong winds blowing what would then be against the current as we sailed the last 15 miles into Maine.

I double checked the tide tables and confirmed that the tides were at their monthly minimum so the strongest current would be slower than at most other times of the month.  I decided it was best to leave early, fight the ebb tide for the first 3 hours, then ride the flood tide the rest of the trip and miss the wind versus tide altogether.

The morning sun burnished everything in gold and made for a terrific sight departing Westport and Canada.  We did have to fight the current, seeing our speed over ground drop to under 3 knots as we were running the engine to make 6+ knots.  That event extinguished itself as we exited the tight channel in the Grand passage and entered the open waters of the Bay of Fundy.

An hour later the sun hid beyond the fog and I couldn't see more than 1/4 mile for the rest of the 47 mile trip.  This area in the Bay of Fundy is well known for whale watching, but unless a whale bumped against Kelly IV, we were not going to see any.  Given the results of a whale bumping, it was a good thing to not see whales that day.

Bay of Fundy crossing

The fog was brought into the bay on a light southwesterly breeze, so we took advantage of what little breeze there was and motor sailed, saving some fuel.  Kelly's course took us less than a mile south of Grand Manan Island, the last part of Canada that we might have seen, but we passed by without seeing anything.

Approaching the entrance to Cutler Harbor, Maine, I could hear the fog signal but saw nothing until we almost ran into the entrance buoy.  We literally didn't see it until Kelly was only a hundred feet away, heading directly for the buoy.  Soon after, the shoreline shyly presented itself as a shadow only slightly darker than the gray sky and fog.  This was the first harbor we had entered in fog.  We've departed several harbors in fog, but that means we had already seen them before we made our way through in the poor visibility.  The challenge was exciting and my heart rate confirmed it.

Kelly IV rafted to a fishing boat in Cutler, Maine

Suddenly the radar showed 30 or more boats ahead of us and gradually they peeked from the murk to let us know they were all on moorings.  Since there was no room to anchor, I rafted along one of the larger fishing boats.  After checking in with Customs (its own little adventure!) without any great strife Kelly IV was legally back in the United States for the first time since May 27th.

Rough weather kept us in port on the 22nd, so Kelly and I departed about 5am on the 23rd.  It was a gorgeous day with the sun and empty blue sky dominating the water and rocky Maine shoreline.  Clouds didn't join the scene until late in the afternoon.

The trip was another motor sail in the morning as the light west wind gave us a little extra push to the southwest.  The wind shifted to the southwest putting the breeze on our nose and down came the sails.  We did enjoy seeing dolphins and a seal as we dodged the lobster pots.  There was no point where I could let down my guard as the ubiquitous lobster pots were in both Cutler Harbor and Southwest Harbor (our destination for the day) and everywhere in between.  There were periods of up to 10 minutes where we might not see a lobster pot, but they were few and far between.  Since I'm hand steering the boat (no autopilot), the constant need to focus on the steering shortened the apparent time underway.

Moored in Southwest Harbor, Maine

In Southwest Harbor, the home of Hinkley Yachts, we passed more yachts over 50 feet long than I've ever seen in one place before.  In addition, there were several very large and luxurious motor yachts, a few well over 100 feet in length.  Since the marina was $2.95 per foot, I joined the several hundred other boats that were on moorings.  There didn't seem to be anywhere in the harbor to anchor, just moorings or the marina.

The next morning the sun peered like a sleepy eye between the horizon and the clouds, then closed its eye behind the clouds for a gray start.  A couple dolphins jumped beside us, then disappeared.

Fortunately, it was a quiet, clear day and within a couple hours the sun was back for a beautiful day to motor into the southwest breeze.  Since our course took us into the eye of the wind, there was no benefit to raising a sail.  Thankfully, the breeze was light and we were sailing in the protected waters behind the islands between Southwest Harbor and Rockland.

Maine has left me thinking that an autopilot would be useless here.  There are so many lobster pots that I'm sure everyone must be hand steering, just as I have this entire trip.  Elsewhere, I've wished for an autopilot, but not here.

As we motored past the small town of North Haven along the passage north of Vinylhaven Island, a beautiful 2 masted gaff-rigged ketch, Angelique, raised her sails and slipped through the harbor.  She was barely making way and had to tack to move into the open waters of Penobscot Bay.  If Kelly and I had tried that we might still be tacking amongst the islands!  Kelly doesn't point into the wind very well, so we use the iron genny to do our close hauled sailing.   :-)

Mooring at Beggar's Wharf

In Rockland, I picked up a mooring at Beggar's Wharf and used their internet to catch up on email, my website, and plan for Irene, the hurricane that will be down to a tropical storm when it gets to Rockland.  On Thursday, August 25, I took the sails down and prepared the boat to be hauled out for the storm.  If the storm throws wind and waves into the harbor, especially at high tide, then docks and moorings could have trouble keeping their boats safe.

By 11am on Friday morning, Kelly IV was hauled out and safe on land almost ready for Irene.  While on shore, I did some maintenance work, cleaning and applying teak oil to the exterior wood, then did my laundry and shopping.

The next log will let you know how Kelly IV and I managed through the storm.

Kelly IV and I have now travelled over 2177 nautical miles from Erie, PA.

Cape Negro Island, Yarmouth, Westport, NS - August 17-20, 2011

With lots of excellent advice I decided to depart Shelburne after lunch on Wednesday.  The most important advice came from Peter Loveridge, author of the most excellent Cruising Guide for Nova Scotia.

His home port is Shelburne and he was there during my visit and we had several very detailed conversations about the current weather forecasts and their impact on my plans to round Cape Sable.  It is critical to sail westward round Cape Sable at low slack tide for two important reasons:  To avoid the huge tide rips and to take advantage of the flood tide's push towards Yarmouth.

The morning was cloudy, but the sun burst through before noon and Kelly IV and I sailed the length of Shelburne Harbour, which is really saying something!  It is a 10 mile trip from the town to the open sea and we had a steady northwesterly pushing us all the way.

Just shy of the Cape Roseway Lighthouse at the harbor entrance, Kelly and I were boarded by the Royal Canada Mounted Police (RCMP) and their Customs and Border Patrol personnel.  They were very courteous and let me continue sailing along my route as they went through their questions about when I entered Canada, where was I going, what safety gear I had aboard, etc.  When they had completed their duty, they reboarded their vessel and we waved goodby.

Unfortunately, the northwesterly ended a few minutes later as Kelly turned southwest past the lighthouse.  The wind changed at the same time we turned and we completed our trip, motor sailing directly into the now southwest breeze.

Cape Negro Island

There was only one other boat in the anchorage, a large (70 feet OAL?) sailing yacht, “Hawk”, with a hailing port in Vermont.  We had learned of a secure small boat mooring in the anchorage and picked it up for the night.

The timing of low slack water at Cape Sable was 7am on Thursday morning, so our anchorage at Cape Negro Island

Cape Sable sunrise 

put us about three and a half hours from Cape Sable, requiring a departure of 3:30am and a 3am wake up.  It was a beautiful night when I poked my head out the companionway at 3am.  After a hot breakfast of oatmeal, I dressed in layers for the cool temperatures and went on deck to drop the mooring and depart the anchorage.

Being Nova Scotia, I should have expected the fog that rolled in while eating my breakfast.  Thankfully, the visibility was never worse than a quarter mile, sufficient to see the buoys and depart safely.

Cape Sable Lighthouse

The fog dissipated upon learning it couldn't stop Kelly and me and the day dawned cool, calm, and sunny.  Thanks to our timing to pass Cape Sable at slack low tide, the only waves at the Cape were small rollers left over from the southwesterly.  Before and after Cape Sable there was only flat water, but the shoaling at the Cape turned the flat water into rollers.  I would hate to pass this point in heavy weather, given how the waves are magnified so greatly.

The breeze joined us soon after turning the corner so we set the sails and headed for the

Schooner Passage, an inshore route that avoids the more treacherous tide rips and also cuts off several miles from the trip.  With the air pressing the sails full, but not sufficiently to shut down the motor, we cut through the sparkling morning, our speed augmented by the rising tide.

Kelly and I squirted through Schooner Passage astonished by speeds up to 9.3 knots, settling to our tide-supported run of 6 knots once through the skinny waterway.

Yarmouth slip

We tied up in the marina at Yarmouth and met our new sailboat neighbors from New Brunswick, experienced cruisers who shared much of their local knowledge.  I spent the evening and next day planning the waypoints and routes that would take Kelly IV and me across the Bay of Fundy and back into the United States for the first time since June.  I also topped my fuel and took a relaxing ride through the countryside with my New Brunswick friends.

Chebogue River Harbour

The next morning was a lazy one since Kelly and I couldn't depart until low tide.  We were headed north into the Bay of Fundy and we learned from the locals to ride with the tide.  For our next sail, this meant riding the flood tide up the bay to Westport, on Brier Island.  Paul, the Marina manager, stopped by to see me off and Kelly and I were on our way about 8:45am.

Westport before the fog

Westport after the fog

It was a partly cloudy day with the sun breaking through on a regular basis.  They forecasted a “risk” of thunderstorms and rain, but we saw none of it.  We motored into the small harbor at Westport about an hour before the fog closed in.  By the time I finished dinner, visibility was down to less than a quarter mile.

Westport seen from Kelly IV at low tide and sunset

Since Westport was our last stop in Canada, we splurged (to spend our last Canadian dollars) on a great haddock dinner in Freeport, the village just a ferry ride across Grand Passage (about 1nm away).  After dinner I rode the ferry back to Westport and settled in for the night.

Kelly IV and I have now traveled over 2024 nautical miles from Erie, PA.

Lunenburg, Port Mouton, Shelburne, NS - August 10-16, 2011

After posting the latest updates to CaptMurph.com, the cell phone announced the return of my Torqeedo electric outboard motor for the dinghy.  You'll recall I shipped it from St. Peters to Montreal for a warranty repair.  The folks at Torqeedo said it was a software glitch in the tiller control, so they reloaded and all is fine.

With everything ready to sail, all Kelly and I needed was some good weather.  Thursday the 11th was forecasted to be 15 – 20 knots from the southwest, or directly against us and with 2 meter waves to boot.  Instead, we rented a car and drove to Lunenburg to play tourist.  The forecast was for 3 days of great weather (for a boat headed southwest) and I didn't want to miss a good day to make some miles, and I didn't want to miss visiting Lunenburg.

I saw the famous schooner “Bluenose II” while she was in the midst of her complete refit.  I also visited the Fisheries Museum Store and walked about town, just absorbing in the flavor of this town with buildings and atmosphere reminiscent of the sailing era of 100 to 300 years ago.

Early Friday morning, I slipped Kelly's lines and we were motoring through the Halifax Harbour as the fog settled in thick and wet.  There were times I couldn't see even 1/16 of a mile and mostly couldn't see beyond a quarter mile.  The radar, chartplotter and GPS have justified their expense, once again.

When the fog lifted about 10am I could see the shoreline, but many areas were still hidden behind large patches of gray mist.  As we turned into Lunenburg Bay, Cross Island was nearly invisible as we passed by.

Entrance to Lunenburg Harbour

Once well into the bay and approaching the harbor, the sun came out and brightened everything to the rich colors you see in the photos.  I took a walk through town searching for free internet (none) and enjoyed guitar music at a hotel restaurant while I lost myself in my current book.  I've been reading regularly throughout the trip as books don't require any electricity or fuel, or even wind!  :-)

Kelly IV secure in Lunenburg

The mileage to Liverpool was short so I left after cooking a hot breakfast of oatmeal.  With no fog it was a brilliant morning to be enjoying the waters of Nova Scotia.  Two dolphins agreed and jumped past Kelly IV as we motored by.

Liverpool came so quickly that I checked the chart and decided to press a few miles further and drop anchor off the white sand beach at Port Mouton (say: “muh-TOON).  It was a terrific anchorage for all but northeasterlies and we expected only southwesterlies, then no wind at all.  The sunset and moonrise were nothing short of spectacular.

Port Mouton anchorage

Port Mouton sunset

Port Mouton moonrise

Abandoned boat on Little Hope Island

Little Hope Island location

Shelburne Yacht Club mooring

We were off before dawn and had a brief bit of excitement when the chartplotter froze, but a quick reboot and all was well.  It was another quiet, beautiful day as the sun rose over Kelly and I.  As I turned southwest, I noticed what first seemed to be a freighter on the horizon.  Upon closer inspection, I was shocked to see a small fishing boat perched serenely on top of a very tiny rocky island, about 5 miles off shore.  I spoke with folks when I arrived at Shelburne and no one seems to know how the boat got there, but it has been through 15 years without being swept off its perch by storms, ice, or hurricanes.

Shelburne is a nice little town with a very friendly, accommodating yacht club.  Kelly and I are stayed on a mooring and met several great folks as we waited for better weather to round Cape Sable, the southwestern corner of Nova Scotia.

While at Shelburne Harbour Yacht Club, I met a couple in their 70s who are still cruising on their beautiful 48 feet motor yacht.  They invited me aboard for a wonderful dinner and conversation.  It was great to have their company for an evening.

Since it is only 200 miles across the Gulf of Maine from Shelburne, this is a popular port of call for cruisers to make the jump from Nova Scotia to Maine.  Although the harbor is small, a large percentage of the sailors are long distance cruisers.  My little adventure traveling from the Great Lakes really pales to the tales of travel to Maine, Bermuda, Bahamas, Florida and the Caribbean.  I am learning a lot from my cruising colleagues and have used much of their input in my route planning for the weeks ahead.

Kelly IV and I have now traveled over 1909 nautical miles from Erie, PA.

Murphy Cove, Halifax, NS - August 1-9, 2011

Kelly IV waited as I raised the anchor in a thickening fog.  I intended to wake up about 5am, as I am learning that is early enough to get out of the harbor before the fog builds.  Maybe because there was no cell service, but the cell phone alarm didn't work, so I awoke on my own about 6am.  The fog was pretty thick, visibility about a half mile, but we raised anchor anyway.  Since pulling up and stowing two lengths of rope and another two lengths of chain takes some time, it was 6:45am before we were underway.  By that time the fog was so soupy that we could barely see the river banks about 1/8 mile on either side of us.

Since we had a GPS track of our way coming into the river and the radar, I felt we could make our way out of the harbor safely, as long as we were careful and proceeded slowly.  We motored along at about 3 knots without seeing anything but the faint outline of trees along the banks.  Soon even the trees began to disappear, as the river widened.  Our only confirmation that we were following the safe route was when we would pass close enough to see the small red or green buoys marking the channel and they were only visible as we passed alongside within a couple hundred feet.

At one point, the radar showed the MacGregor sailboat we passed on the way in, sitting at its mooring.  Only when the radar showed that we were within 100 yards, could we barely discern the sailboat visually.  At that point I knew we could not go back.  Our options at that point were to keep going or drop anchor and wait for the fog to clear.  Since the harbor at Liscombe keeps opening wider as you approach the open sea, I felt we could safely continue and we did so.

It is a good thing we did not wait for the fog to clear.  We sailed along the coast until almost 3pm before visibility increased to over a mile.  Frequently during the day, we passed sea buoys along the way and confirmed that our visibility was under a quarter of a mile.

We also saw a sea turtle who was only about 50 feet from Kelly, but shortly after sticking his head out of the water for a good look at us, he dove and swam away.

Shoal Bay

The breeze was light and variable so we never raised the sails, but motored the entire day.  As we turned towards shore, I was happy to see that visibility was clearing up nicely at sea, but I had a little concern because directly ahead us, inshore, the fog was still pretty thick!  Thankfully the visibility continued to improve as we ventured into Shoal Bay and made our way to the anchorage at Murphy Cove, off Carter's Point.

Although I did drop the anchor, I saw that there were fishing boats tied up to the wharf and the chart said the wharf was public, so after checking the depths in the dinghy, I decided to raft up to the fishing boats at the wharf.  The forecast was calling for thunderstorms and it was possible that Kelly and I would be here for a few days.  If we were tied to the wharf, we could go ashore without rowing the dinghy through rain and storm.

Kelly IV rafted in Murphy Cove

Two fisherman were watching from the wharf as I came alongside and they helped me with Kelly's lines.  A little later one of the fishermen returned.  He was collecting the $10 fee for tying up to the wharf.  He also had two cold beers to welcome me to Murphy Cove!  Norman and I had a nice chat as we enjoyed the beer.

A local sailor, Frank, stopped by briefly to say hello and I invited him to visit the boat when he had more time.  He not only was willing to visit Kelly and me, but also proved to be another great friend as we make this grand adventure through the Maritimes.

Thistles along the walk

On Tuesday morning, I decided to take a long walk as the forecast was not favorable for at least another day or two.  Just as I was leaving Kelly, Frank stopped by to invite me to dinner with he and his wife!  Of course, I jumped on the chance for a great home-cooked meal with local sailors.

My walk took me about 7km, less than 5 miles, to Tangier, the head of Tangier Bay and where the Tangier River enters the bay.  It was almost entirely along the water and proved to be a very nice walk.  Since it followed the coast it had very little in the way of hills and a lot of wonderful views.

That evening I had a terrific time with  Frank and his wife, Anita.  They are retired and prepared a wonderful meal and I learned about Anita's career in healthcare administration.  I also enjoyed hearing about Frank's career with the Bedford Oceanographic Institute and his trips to both polar regions, including the first North Pole visit by a non-nuclear ship.

Tangier River

The only downside to my terrific evening with Frank and Anita was the heavy rain and thunderstorms that blew through later in the evening.  The forecast I heard said the rain wasn't due until Wednesday morning, so I didn't think to close up the boat and left the main cabin hatch open.  My computer was directly under the hatch and it got a thorough soaking.  I spent all day Wednesday drying out the computer, two bunk cushions, and all the carpet.  I went through almost 3 pounds of propane in my portable heater to get things dry.  Mostly because it rained all day Wednesday, I could not open the boat, except for a small opening in the companionway to let the fumes from the heater escape.

The rain finally quit Wednesday evening and Thursday dawned with some sunshine but contrary breezes.  Frank stopped by again to check on me, so I gave him a tour of Kelly IV, then he took me over to Tachyon, his beautiful Alberg 29.  That evening I joined Anita and Frank for another wonderful evening.

Murphy Cove sunset

The next morning, Frank picked me up and took me to the local shopping in Halifax as the winds were again unfavorable for sailing to Halifax.  Thanks to Frank's local knowledge, I was able to buy some chain, a grapnel anchor, groceries, and some more reading material without wasting time just trying to find where things were located.  In addition, Frank introduced me to his yacht club and I made arrangements to have the Torqeedo outboard shipped there.

Early Saturday morning, Kelly IV and I slipped away from the fishing boats in Murphy Cove and made our way through the rocks and islands to Ship Harbour, then off shore for the sail to Halifax.  The wind did work to our favor for a couple hours, then we resorted to motor sailing until we turned northwest past Devil's Island.  We sailed for the first hour, no engine, through the narrow gap into the Eastern Passage before the wind dissipated to the point where we had to motor the rest of the way through Halifax Harbour and into Bedford Basin, the home of the Dartmouth Yacht Club (DYC).

Awning over cockpit at Dartmouth Yacht Club

Kelly and I are tied into a slip waiting out the rain at DYC.  After getting the needed parts for the solar panel mount repairs, I bought a new computer and have spent the rest of the day in the DYC clubhouse getting my new computer loaded and running with the software I need.  I'll be doing more of that as I still have a few more applications to load before I can get the computer working as it was before the rain-soaked computer failed.

Tuesday morning brought a drier day and the diesel mechanic.  Chad did the 250 hour maintenance since Kelly IV has run her engine over 250 hours since departing Erie, PA.  He also double checked the PSS Dripless shaft.  You'll recall I was concerned after wrapping the stern anchor line around the shaft in Liscombe, but all is OK and working as designed.

I took advantage of the missing precipitation and installed the new adjustable supports for the solar panel over the dinghy davits.  The new supports are all metal (no plastic) so I'm hopeful they will take the beating of travel on a sailboat better than the nylon pieces that failed in the rocking waves south of St. Peters.  After a few other odd jobs and repairs I turned back to getting the new computer up to speed and worked on that the rest of the day, including updating the CaptMurph.com website.

Kelly IV and I have now traveled over 1776 nautical miles from Erie, PA.