2Talk Bluetooth Headsets:
Communication Method: The 2Talk headsets use traditional Bluetooth technology for peer-to-peer communication. They require pairing between individual headsets before they can connect with each other.
Number of Connections: Up to 4 devices can be paired together for group communication. It supports communication between a limited number of headsets simultaneously.
Security: Communication is established between paired devices, ensuring privacy in conversations.
Range: The 2Talk headsets have a practical range of several hundred yards in all conditions, with a maximum distance of about 800 yards. They are suitable for most boat sizes and crews.
Compatibility: These headsets can also pair with other Sena headsets (SPH10, Expand, Tufftalks, etc.) and certain Bluetooth-enabled devices like smartphones.
Design: They feature a behind-the-neck design with dual stereo earpiece speakers for better fit and comfort.
Battery: The headsets offer a 10-hour continuous talk time on a full 1.5-hour charge.
My Team Talks Mesh Headsets:
Communication Method: The My Team Talks Mesh headsets use Mesh networking technology, which does not require pairing between individual headsets. They connect automatically upon power-up and can communicate with an unlimited number of other Mesh headsets.
Number of Connections: Mesh headsets can communicate with an unlimited number of other Mesh headsets, making them suitable for larger groups.
Security: Mesh offers both open communication and private group communication options.
Range: Mesh headsets provide dynamic Mesh Intercom with extended range and flexibility. They connect instantly with any nearby Mesh headset without specific pairing.
Compatibility: These headsets also have integrated Bluetooth transceivers for phone calls, music, and other Bluetooth-enabled devices. They use Bluetooth 5.2 for faster, clearer audio and longer battery life.
Design: The Mesh headsets are identical in form-factor to the 2Talk headsets but utilize a Mesh protocol for headset-to-headset communications.
Battery: The Mesh headsets use USB-C charging and offer improved Bluetooth technology (Bluetooth 5.2).
Summary of Differences:
The 2Talk headsets use traditional Bluetooth and are suitable for smaller groups (up to 4 headsets), while Mesh headsets can connect with an unlimited number of other Mesh headsets, making them suitable for larger groups.
Mesh headsets offer more advanced Bluetooth technology (Bluetooth 5.2) and dynamic Mesh Intercom for extended range and flexibility.
2Talk headsets require specific pairing between devices, whereas Mesh headsets automatically connect with nearby Mesh headsets without pairing.
Mesh headsets provide both open and private group communication options.
Both headsets are designed for hands-free communication, but Mesh headsets are versatile for various recreational and industrial applications.
Battery charging and cable types differ between the two models (Micro USB for 2Talk, USB-C for Mesh).
Your choice between these models will depend on your specific communication needs, group size, and preferences for features like Bluetooth technology and automatic connectivity.
Link to My Team Talks here.
Link to 2Talk headset here.
]]>]]>
Get a quick recommendation and a quote for the right prop using our online Spec-O-Prop form
]]>You'll be able to meet the team, see our latest gear and take advantage of special boat show pricing.
See ya then!
]]>Summery: Balloons kill wildlife and are a waste of helium.
Aboard Sampatecho II we have counted hundreds of discarded mylar and latex balloons floating off the eastern seaboard. We've seen the carcass of a whale killed by ingesting them.
These things are a danger to endangered species. They should be banned!
In one passage alone we counted over 30 groups of balloons.
Additionally, helium is a finite resource, important in some medical procedures and we are frivolously wasting it on colourful bags of petroleum which kill whales and other endangered species.
I'm sorry to get gruesome, but it is important that I impress my point. When I see a cluser of balloons on the beach or in the ocean it's like seeing flowers by the side of the highway (to denote an accident.)
The picture above is a Greenpeace representation after the sperm whale was found, it’s not real.
Click here to learn more about this whale made of plastic and find out more about balloons and plastic in the oceans.
]]>
Nowadays, you can only enter through an international Harbour. If you are going to Cuba from the USA you’ll be sailing into Havana’s Marina Hemmingway. And that is where you will probably stay. The Government has restricted coastal cruising, putting a stop to going ashore except for at the few international marinas. Before embarking on a coastal cruise, you must submit a cruising itinerary which has to be approved and be forewarned, they will keep track of you and do not take kindly to deviation. Be prepared for visits by the Coast Guard]]>
Here is what we learned about navigating to and from Cuba, her customs and her people, many of whom we call friends.
Capitaine Sandra welcomed us to Puorto Esperanza on our first visit. She waved us in to shore and offered to help us find anything we needed. She calls Sampatecho "barco magico" because we seem to magically have anything she needs for small repairs around her home.
Nowadays, you can only enter through an international Harbour. If you are going to Cuba from the USA you’ll be sailing into Havana’s Marina Hemmingway. And that is where you will probably stay. The Government has restricted coastal cruising, putting a stop to going ashore except for at the few international marinas. Before embarking on a coastal cruise, you must submit a cruising itinerary which has to be approved and be forewarned, they will keep track of you and do not take kindly to deviation. Be prepared for visits by the Coast Guard.
If you would like to see more of Cuba you’ll have to get around on busses, taxis, or hitchhiking.
Or perhaps try your hand at a bicycle taxi? Just for fun, we took the driver for a ride
If you want your independence, consider hiring a driver, it is more cost-effective than renting a car and they know where they are going, have their own insurance, and you get a built-in tour guide this way. Be sure, however, to get a firm price before you set out.
When we started going we would go into Marina Hemmingway and then cruise along the North shore to the West and visit out friends in Puerto la Esperanza. Unfortunately, the smaller villages are now out-of-bounds for cruisers.
Puorto Esperanza with a view of Vinyales in the background
As you approach Marina Hemmingway (during daylight hours), call the marina on VHF channel 77. They will answer in English, French, German or Spanish with directions into the harbour. It is very tricky at night and the reef is impassible in a strong “norther” so time your arrival accordingly. Your first stop will be the Customs dock for inspections, immigration and a briefing by the Coast Guard (la Guarda). The officials are friendly, knowledgeable and professional. The guards and even the drug dogs wear little hospital booties so that they don’t scratch the teak or gelcoat. The doctor will shake your hand and turn your hand over to check your nails, he’ll look deeply into your eyes. He very casually sort of checks you over. He gets you to smile, to see your teeth. It seems like a visit more than a checkup. They will keep any firearms for you and have taken our flares and returned them to us when we leave, as a safety precaution. Cuba has very strict gun control. By coincidence, they don’t have any mass shootings (hmmmmm). We have a hanging basket with fruit and everyone is very curious about apples, which they don’t have in Cuba. We normally give one or more to each inspector who are very very grateful. The apples also address any requests for “gifts” which may occur.
This information is true and accurate as best we know, but the rules change every so often. A new rule last time, for example, was that Americans had to pay a whopping $7 per day for health insurance while visiting their country.
Provisioning
Take provisions enough for any meals you’ll have aboard because you won’t get the selection you are used to. You can find eggs, fresh fruit, veggies, pork and fish in limited quantity and selection but beef is impossible to come by.
Eating out is very reasonable too. There are many restaurants near Marina Hemmingway. There are also more and more Paladar’s opening all the time. These are “restaurants” operated out of peoples homes and the food is excellent! While the menu may be limited, you'll always have beans and rice. Try the yucca. Its fantastic!!
Cigars a plenty
If a deal seems too good to be true it probably is! The basic, no label, people’s cigar ,available at little bodegas, is fine if you are not an aficionado. If you want something more special, don’t buy it in an alley. Government duty free is a good deal, or if you become friendly with someone there they will probably be able to get you a great deal on a Romeo y Julietta or Cohiba. YUM!
This is our friend in his tobacco drying hut in Vinyales
Feeling generous?
Love the feeling when someone’s face lights up like it’s Christmas day? Take these:
Tools – Gently used tools are much needed. They will be shared community wide. Nuts & bolts, nails, hooks, you name it would be very very welcome as well. Not to mention wood glue!
Fishing Gear – This is a REAL WINNER! Cubans love to fish and can make do with almost nothing but fishing line, lures and sinkers are like gold and a rod & reel can be the start of a career.
Pain Killers – Tylenol, Aspirin, Advil - doesn’t matter! They have no access to the kind of over the counter pain killers/fever reducers, cold/flu medicines that we do. I can’t stress enough how much they would appreciate your on-board pharmacy.
Baseballs – It’s a national pastime there too. Fun fact – did you know that Fidel played professional baseball and even in the USA?
These happy kids were playing ball with a stick and a rock until we strolled by and tossed them this equipment.
Soccer Balls – Popular worldwide and Cuba is no exception.
Apples - Take plenty of apples to share – they can’t get them there. Many have never tried one!
Be careful not to take so much that you’ll be dinged for “importing” by the officials. Import duty is 25% and they take this very seriously. Keep it to what seems like normal ship’s stores and be discrete handing it out.
Don’t expect the locals to speak English.
Though many do, especially if they work in the tourist industry, and deal with other Canadians. Because of the US ban, the majority of their other tourists come from Russia, China or the EU and even if Canadian there is a large Français speaking contingent. A lot can be said through body language, gestures, drawings and the like. Our Spanish was rusty the first time we went.
Learn a few basic Spanish phrases – you’ll be glad you did and they will be so pleased to see you try! Even if you have a cheat sheet in your pocket.
Here are our top 5 helpful sentences (spelled phonetically):
This is one of our Cuban families. They farm Tobacco & Sugar cane among other things.
We recommend Kathy Parsons book: Spanish for cruisers
She includes some classic blunders just for the fun of it such as:
“Excusado, passa la ropa!” Does not mean toss me the ropes/lines it means “hey toilet! throw me your clothes!”
Fuster’s Studio is located in Jaimanitas, very close to Marina Hemmingway. He’s the Picasso of the Caribbean and internationally acclaimed. He has tiled the whole city neighborhood with amazing ceramic art. Link to his website
National Ballet of Cuba - This is well worth your time but be warned, there is a dress code. You can not get in with short pants. I wore shorts, couldn’t get in so ended up buying pink polyester pants from a gay guy on the street. We still couldn’t get in so I gave them to a German that spent his last dime on his ballet ticket, was flying out the following day and had no more Cuban money and no long pants. I thought he was going to cry! (with joy)
Shopping – The principal shopping district in Havana is located in the heart of Old Havana; Obispo Street! It is crazy busy and if there are cruise ships in town, I’d stay clear but you can find lots of art and souvenirs.
Tropicana for a peek at pre-Castro Havana you can visit the Tropicana. All the glitz and glamour of old Havana. The show is like Vegas with acrobatics, showgirls, musicians. It’s an outdoor setting with catwalks through the trees. On arrival, they give the ladies a rose and gents a cigar with bottle of rum on each table
Havana Club Rum Factory How is rum made? Find out here. See a model railway. Taste a fresh sugar cane Mojito with some great entertainment.
Partigas Cigar Factory This is a wonderful place. It’s very entertaining as well as educational – located directly behind the Capitolio. A word about cigars: You’ll meet dozens of “street hustlers” offering Cohibas & Monte Cristos at fantastic prices ($50/box). These are almost never genuine cigars and may even just be banana leaves. Caveat Emptor.
Havana National Museum of Fine Arts has incredibly modern work from the unique perspective of the Cuban people. There are several museums in the same area if you prefer classics. One of the “silver linings” of the embargo is that Cuba has evolved their own unique culture and art is considered a real profession with real income whereas we choose to starve our artists.
The museum of history has interesting artifacts too
For a REAL cruising guide; we highly recommend Captain Cherryl Barr’s Cruising Guide to Cuba. She has sailed Road to the Isles thoroughly gunk-holed the coast of Cuba for the past 10 years. No one knows the coast and approaches more intimately.
Paper Charts: If you do cruise the islands and coves, take it really slow. There’s no SeaTow or Tow Boat US here. Paper charts are available from Blue Water books in Ft Lauderdale. They have photocopied the official Cuban chartbooks which unfortunately are not available in Cuba.
The truth is, internet sucks in Cuba.
You can buy a little card from a hotel and sit and use their wifi. Their connection isn’t great, though, so if wifi is important to you and your business take a look at our SkyMate satellite communications system and you can access the email or weather from anywhere on earth at any time of day. Activate your SkyMate service with a variety of affordable connection plans found on our website. It has been invaluable for our business and keeping in touch with family and friends The all new Mazu iPad app from SkyMate gives you easy access to a wide variety of communication and navigation functions.
There is very little crime in Cuba, but maybe lift and lock your dingy at night because “the opportunity makes the thief” and a dingy and motor might be far too tempting. When you go to town, don’t bother wearing a lot of gold and jewellery when walking the streets. You already appear to be very wealthy to Cubans – no need to flaunt it. Drugs, gangs and violent crimes are almost unheard of but petty theft is not uncommon so don’t invite it.
]]>
After sailing the Eastern Seaboard from New York to Newfoundland for many years, I’ve become pretty proficient at dodging Lobster Pots in their many configurations whether singly or strung in pairs like clothes lines. In Maine’s high season, there are more lobster pots than stars in the sky. Boothbay Harbor looks like they have decorated it for Christmas and a folding prop and enough wind to sail is your ONLY hope of passage without becoming ensnared. Some cruisers merely curse the mine-fields. Others take a more aggressive stance and install “cutters” to their props. We just keep a “sharp look-out” and steer a slalom course around them. I can’t bring myself to cut the floats and thereby someone’s livelihood and can’t even curse an activity that brings me so much joy – because I do love lobster!!
We’ve seen hundreds of lobster fishermen over the years, waved and occasionally even been lucky enough to find one willing to sell us a few as we passed by. But it wasn’t until this spring as we approached Nova Scotia that I set my mind to actually “go a lobsterin” this year. The 200 miles from Cape Cod to the Southern tip of Nova Scotia had taken us 30 long hours. It was still May; the air was too cold for fog and the wind light enough that we had to motor-sail. With 50 miles to go, we were cold and tired. We were approaching Cape Sable Island fighting 2-3 knots of tide flooding the Bay of Fundy when a 40 ft Lobster Boat fell in behind us then actually chased us!! Oh, Oh I thought. I hope we haven’t run over their float or damaged something. Better slow down.
As they came along-side, there was no communication but one of the younger fellows climbed up onto the foredeck. They came close and he proceeded to toss 2 lobsters to me (now on deck) and 2 more into the cockpit. “Here’s sumthin for yer supper” he said with a smile that spread from ear to ear. “What do I owe you?” I asked and he replied “Not a thing – Welcome to Nova Scotia!!”
Well, we’ve covered over 50,000 miles and never had a more heartwarming welcome anywhere in our travels. So we cooked the lobsters immediately eating only the legs as I put away the claws, tails and bodies for later to celebrate our arrival in Shelburne. At 1am the next morning, we finally dropped anchor and pounced on our treasures. What a feast!! Next morning, I set out on a mission to find a lobsterman who would take on a sixty-something “upper Canadian” to help bring in a day’s catch. Fortunately, we have a lot of good friends in Shelburne and Kenny was able to coerce his youngest son, Ben, to take me out to show me just what a day in the life of a lobsterman is really like.
Like most cruisers, our day normally begins when the sun comes up. I know that farmers begin well before that and the guys at Tim Hortons are even earlier but this is ridiculous!! Our day was to begin at 02:30 to be at the boat and underway by 03:00!! So there I was, decked out in my “yachty” floater coat, red foul-weather overalls and yellow deck boots trekking down the wharf along with the rough & tumble fishermen. Good thing it was still so dark!
The Heat Seeker is a sturdy looking, no-nonsense 40 footer with a small wheel house behind a 6 or 8 ft deck. The aft 25 feet is wide open with a drop-down transom like a pick-up truck. The port side was lined by an aluminum framework about 2 meters tall with a riding sail at the stern, while the starboard side was wide open except for a dangling pulley swinging above a large, ominous looking wheel. The cabin-top held radar, a cluster of antennae and the dry engine exhaust pipe which was warming up as soon as we arrived.
In the pilothouse it was all business and no creature comforts. Although she had 3 big flat-screen displays for charts, 3 vhf radios, a satellite phone and state-of-the-art radar, the bare 2x4 framework and unfinished fiberglass only had tacked-up photographs of wives and children for décor. Below decks, it resembled a teenager’s bedroom with foul weather gear, floats, coiled line, cases of water, pop and cleaner stacked atop coolers of bait and other gear. Aside from the helm, the cabin was packed with lobster crates, banding materials and boxes of frozen herring and mackerel. The captain had a stool. I’d soon discover why there was no need for others.
Heat Seeker was shoe-horned into a corner of the small boat harbour along with 20 or so similar boats so after releasing half a dozen lines, Ben slid her free of the harbour and into the larger Shelburne Harbour. A light fog clung to the sea as a gentle swell rolled in from the South East. Wind was still very light and with any luck would remain that way for the duration of our day. My job for now was to fill “bait bags” with frozen herring and mackerel. I was fortunate since for part of the year they use “fresh” bait that has been sitting and decomposing for a while. Frozen suited me just fine, thank you. Captain Ben checked out the instruments and records of trap locations while Curtis and I stuffed bags with fish. “Once we’re landing pots, there’ll be no time for this," he explained and I’d soon find out he was right.
It was almost 04:00 when we arrived at the first set of traps identified by a single or double float at each end of a string of 10 traps. Ben had marked each of these on the GPS but locating them in the fog and sea still requires sharp eyes and then bringing the boat alongside takes some deft maneuvering skills.
Curtis would catch the float with a long gaff hook and pass the line to Ben who would haul in enough to wrap around the “wheel” a big high speed winch that hauls in the traps. My next job was to scrub moss and algae off the floats in a big tub of cleaner while Ben and Curtis boated the traps. Our first trap had about 12 lobsters in it! "Great!" I thought, then watched as they threw back 6 undersized ones, 2 females with eggs, and 1“soft-shell” that had just molted. Oh well, at least there are 3 good ones. Not yet! Ben measured each of them to ensure the carapace (body shell) was over 3” long. One more went back over the side. The rest of that string was the more or less the same with a net “keep” of 1 or 2 lobsters per trap.
All the while, the wheel kept spinning trap after trap on-board, lobsters were removed, bait bags switched for fresh ones and the traps lined up on the stern with line carefully strung out. When the last trap was landed, rebaited and stacked and the floats scrubbed clean, I was told to stand clear, the last float and trap was tossed overboard as the boat accelerated. The line went taut pulling out the next trap and the next then the next till they had all flown off the open stern.
Time for a break? Not likely! Next job was to “band” the lobsters’ claws. Fifteen lobsters had backed down into a box of 4” PVC pipe leaving nothing exposed but their claws folded sweetly as if in prayer.
It was then easy work to pick them up with one hand take a pair of banding pliers with the other hand and then stretch a rubber band over the clips with the other hand. Did you notice that 3 hands are required for this job? Once the band is in place a flick of the wrist retrieves the pliers and it’s on to the next except that by number ten we’d arrived at the next string. In comes the float (I start scrubbing), the lobsters are sorted, I stuff bait bags, the pots are lined up then zoom, zoom, zoom off they go to the bottom again for another day. By string number 8, I was getting the hang of things and could almost keep up with the routine, leave room for the incoming lobsters in the PVC box and stay out of the way of the wheel, the floats and the flying traps as they shot out the stern. I was sweaty, wet and covered with bait fish and cleaner but feeling pretty good about my future in the fishery. “How many more do we have?” I asked. “Well”, Curtis replied, “We’ve landed 80 so there’s only 318 to go!” THREE HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN?!! What was he thinking? What am I doing out here? Maeve’s still sleeping in our warm bed and I’m out here up to the elbows in dead fish, cleaner or lobsters. Am I crazy? “If the weather holds, we should be home by dinner time” he added noticing my look of dismay. I guess that’s why they have to start work at 3 AM.
But having asked for the ride, I was NOT going to admit that this old guy was soft or that Upper Canadians couldn’t take the work, not me. So we kept hauling, stuffing, scrubbing and banding then getting clear as the traps flew off the stern dragging miles of line behind them. I’d brought a sandwich and some apples but there was never time for more than an occasional swig from my water bottle and it was now abundantly clear why nobody but the captain had a seat.
But by 10 o’clock, the fog had lifted, the sun was shining and I could actually see enough of the shore to figure out where we were. By noon Ben announced that we were down to the last 40 or so – the Home stretch!! I knew that I was going to make it. Although my eye was watering badly from taking a splash of cleaner while slopping around in the vat and my right hand was swollen up like a boxing glove from banding. They’d never know what a wimp I was.
What a day!! Thirteen hours of non-stop slugging in smelly, sloppy and potentially pretty dangerous conditions on a cold, foggy ocean that fortunately was benign on this particular day. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat!! Or I would if the season wasn’t over in 2 days and if I can ever get my hand back into a glove. Yes, I hope to get out again next year but would I do it for a living? Well, that’s another kettle of fish. I have gained a whole new respect for fishermen and for the investment, the skills and the labour that go into the seafood that we take for granted. It was good to see that the sustainability of the fishery is a prime consideration and that the number of “berried” females and immature lobsters bodes well for the future but I have to tell you that the next guy who complains that lobster is too expensive had better not be in range of my new “boxing glove” right hand.
Finally at 14:17 (but who was watching the clock?), we had hauled and reset the last of the traps and were headed home. We had a respectable catch and fortunately, the price wasn’t too bad this spring (around $5/lb). Time for a break? Not yet. They had a couple of dozen floats down below that needed a “quick scrub” while we had the vat full of cleaner and that lasted all the way to the harbour. I looked up just as we were approaching the jib-crane where a buyer waited in his pickup to relieve us of the catch. We tied up and gave the boat a good scrubbing then wash-down with the high pressure hose onboard. I was part of the cleanup to get my “yachty” gear clean before heading home.
The photos in this article were, in fact, taken on a subsequent fishing trip this winter at the beginning of December. Ben had a bigger boat “Still Kickin”. The weather was similar but with half the daylight hours. We brought in over twice the catch which took us over 16 hours but the price was down to $3.25 a pound! By March, the price was up a bit, the catches were lower but they we travelling 60 miles off-shore to find them and the weather was terrible. Such is the life of a lobsterman.
]]>
Why would any rational sailor take something as beautiful and efficient as a sailboat and turn it, even temporarily, into a “stink-pot”? For a Great Lakes sailor like myself, it was the allure of the endless summer we could attain by traveling south in October. Or for East Coast sailors, it could be the pristine, fresh water cruising of Ontario’s North Channel or Vermont and New York’s Lake Champlain. Both of these options can be readily accessible if you can make it under 14 to 21 foot fixed bridges. With few exceptions, this “limbo” requires de-masting the boat and storing it on deck, then striking up the engine for a few hundred miles and powering through canals, climbing locks and scurrying across larger bodies of water that under normal conditions, we relish. Here are a few of the things we have learned about making the transformation successfully and negotiating these waterways safely.
Through countless summers and stormy winters, our mast towered like a permanent fixture above Sampatecho, our Beneteau 390. Sure, we tuned the rig annually and made a trip aloft to check for wear, corrosion or loose connections, but the mast had been vertical since we’d owned her. But in 1997, we’d decided to make the first of many pilgrimages to the balmy waters of Florida, the Bahamas and beyond. This meant de-stepping the mast and storing it securely on deck for the trip through the canals connecting the Great Lakes to the Hudson River and beyond.
De-stepping can generally be done on a do-it-yourself basis using a gin-pole or pivoting arm for boats of 30 to 32 feet or under provided the mast weight is under about 150 pounds. Beyond that, the weight and leverage can be dangerous should a line slip or if you miscalculate the balance point. Larger boats should probably enlist the assistance of experienced marinas to step and de-step their mast. Accidents can still happen, but at least your insurance will recognize due diligence on your part.
Transporting your mast on deck is much more precarious than in its normal position. True, you’ll be traveling generally protected waters but you’ll still be exposed to some choppy sections such as Oneida Lake with a 19 mile fetch, rivers with conflicting tide, current like on the upper Hudson, and wake from power boats who don’t understand or don’t care about your vulnerability.
There are three factors for consideration when designing your supports (or cradle or horses) to secure the mast on deck for the trip through the canals:
Your mast is inherently springy. It wants to bounce in the middle, twist on the unsupported ends and stretch the lines that restrict its freedom from un-natural bonds. Don’t count on gravity for any help. The rhythmic lifting of your bow will try to launch the mast from its cradle if not securely subdued. Consider movement in lateral, fore/aft and vertical directions.
Can you see around and over it from the helm?
detail of the bow
It may not be the prettiest thing but it WORKS and that's what matters.
Can you manoeuvre your boat? Can you get around the deck safely?
Even with your folding bicycle, fishing poles, etc etc on deck? Or is that just us?
From the tiny, historic Chambly Canal to the monstrous, commercial St Lawrence Seaway; the concept is the same but the procedures and execution are worlds apart.
With the constant water up and down those walls the lines and walls themselves will be green or brown and slippery. Consider gloves, an apron, or your old worn out clothes while handling the lines.
Claustrophobics beware.
This was our solution for fenders. You don't want them slipping out of the way and letting your boat hit those slimy walls.
Ours have a towel-like cover and a board across to keep them secure. The fabric means they aren't slippery. Especially when wet.
The white tube above contains large charts. We recommend these waterproof tubes.
Maeve pushing the bow off the wall with a hook.
One of the greatest differences with being a power boat is the loss of independence. You need fuel at fairly regular intervals and of course need some help getting the mast up and down. Beware of the places that you have to stop anyway, such as to clear Customs. When we entered the Lake Champlain, we called the first marina in Rouse’s Point, NY. Another marina called Lighthouse answered and gave us directions to their dock, which we followed. I told the dock attendant that we needed fuel and a pump-out but first we needed to clear in with Customs.
By the time (10 minutes) that we had cleared in, the attendant had begun filling the tank, fortunately with diesel, but said he didn’t know how much it was. Neither did he know how much a pumpout cost but we had him do that too. The office and pump are a considerable distance from the dock so we proceeded without confirming costs (my mistake). Afterward, we were presented with a bill for $183.00 for what normally cost around $100.00. The diesel was $3.99/gal (while our next stop in NY was $2.69/gal) the pumpout was $15.00 (when everyone else charges $5-$10.00) and they even charge $10.00 extra to tie up when clearing Customs even though we bought fuel and a pumpout from them at the same time!
Just a word to check the rates before tying up!
a lot of mast
just a shortened mast!
]]>Lessons Learned:
- Know where your emergency tiller is stowed and what it is made of – is it substantial enough to control steering?
- Check the fitting to make sure that you can remove the deck plate and install the emergency tiller safely in difficult conditions. Does the emergency tiller fit in the rudder post?
- Try actually steering with the emergency tiller in heavy conditions and determine whether you can manage it for any length of time or are modifications required?
]]>Continued from Panpan, Panpan, Panpan... Read it first!
The first vessel to answer the Coast Guard panpan at 07:45 was tug ‘J George Best’. He was not able to lend assistance but had lots of advice. If Bradd could get a line around either side of the rudder and up to the winches, perhaps he could steer – or better still clamp 2 x 4’s on either side of the rudder, fasten lines to the wood and that might allow us to control the rudder. There were no 2 x 4’s on board and with the ship pitching and rolling in 6 – 8 foot seas, there was no way my Captain was going to attempt to fasten anything to the rudder. J George Best then suggested we put out our anchor, even if we didn’t have any scope. Bradd felt that dropping the anchor in 130 feet with the wind & wave conditions was only inviting damage to the bow with no hope of holding.
A short time later we were hailed by Navy Warship 79. They were about 16 miles away and asked if they could be of any assistance. Bradd said short of towing us to shore, if they had a welder on board perhaps they could fashion a new tiller for us. They radioed back that they would come and stand off until the Coast Guard arrived (ETA noon), and if possible, manufacture a tiller. They were beside us in no time. Trying to describe what we needed over the VHF radio was no easy feat. Bradd took measurements of the block that fit in the rudder post and described it to them. I stood on deck and held up the tiller-arm at their request and they took a photo of me! The War Ship explained that their davit was broken and so they couldn’t launch a boat to get to us but they would work on the tiller and the Coast Guard could deliver it to us when they arrived.
The Coast Guard cutter ‘Kingfisher’ arrived shortly after noon – we were of course easy to spot with the War Ship beside us! The wind and waves had been gradually subsiding. They launched their jet boat and sent over a boarding party. The War Ship had completed the tiller and the CG retrieved it. The block was perfect but the arm was mounted on the wrong side. We sent it back, along with the original one so that they could see the proper orientation. They modified it, unfortunately using some parts of the original aluminum tiller and it was quickly apparent that wouldn’t work. We sent the tiller back to the War Ship.
While we waited, we were wallowing in the aftermath of the big winds and seas with the rudder squeaking from side into side. A small pod of dolphins approached the boat. The normally playful dolphins were obviously curious about the inert sailboat and the noises we were making. Four of them approached and in unison popped their heads above the surface and while completely stationary, looked at us directly in the eye!! What was wrong? They seemed to ask. Bradd and I looked at them. The Coast Guard looked at them and as quickly as they had appeared, they disappeared. I guess they were satisfied that we were OK.
Three times lucky! The Coast Guard engineer, Benjie, made a slight modification to the manufactured tiller (screwing the old aluminum arm over the Navy’s fabricated steel arm to make it more comfortable to hold) and by 14:00 we were all underway – the Kingfisher leading, us following, and the Navy War Ship 79 bringing up the rear. The CG insisted on accompanying us all the way to Jacksonville (thank goodness) and the war ship soon left the parade.
The CG had offered to stay aboard to help with the steering but Bradd assured them that he would be OK. However, the short tiller-arm was very difficult to control and required quite a bit of strength. I was only able to relieve Bradd for short periods and after a couple of hours it was clear that Bradd would not be able to continue to steer for the hours it would take to reach shore. We had drifted south east over the morning and we were about 54 miles from the Jacksonville harbor entrance when we got underway. We were looking at a minimum 9 hour trip if all went well. The CG had been checking on us by VHF every half hour. When they called again, we accepted their offer of assistance steering the boat.
The first two volunteer ‘drivers’ were delivered. The steerage was so difficult and demanding that three hours was all that they could manage. A second troop of volunteer drivers took over. Some people have a natural ability to steer a boat and others can learn. Some people just never get the feel for it. Our first ‘helmsman’ was a natural and he taught his partner. The second two volunteers on the other hand were of the last category and consequently were very hard on our make-shift tiller. We actually did several 360’s when they lost control. The tiller was repaired three times by the CG underway. The final repair lasted till we were about 11 miles from the approach buoy off Jacksonville and the tiller was now mangled beyond repair. The CG were willing to tow us but we had already made arrangements for Tow Boat US to meet us at the approach buoy – Bradd didn’t want to maneuver through the jetties and into a marina with so little control – so we suggested that TBUS come out to get us rather than switching tows at the approach buoy. While we waited for them, the engineer fashioned yet another tiller for us to hold the rudder straight while under tow. Without it, the boat would be out of control and the stress on the rudder may have broken it off!
The new tiller was made of two 4 foot long 4 x 4’s held together with huge C clamps and nailed & screwed to the block that fit in the rudder post. It was actually the easiest of all the make-shift tillers to control which was a good thing – Maeve got to steer most of the way in as Bradd’s arms had turned to jello (and he is incredibly strong – my Popeye!). The final leg under tow was about 15 miles. We had drifted while waiting for the tow and the boat yard is about 4 miles from the approach buoy. We were finally docked at 03:00 Thursday morning – what a long day!
We slept for 3 1/2 hours and then started the process of effecting repairs as quickly as possible. Bradd removed the broken parts and they were sent to a machine shop to have new parts fabricated. He also delivered plans for a new emergency tiller. We scrubbed the decks to remove the salt and the multitude of CG footprints from her decks. The staff at the yard was fabulous – bending over backwards and calling in favours to get the parts done as soon as possible. The parts were finally delivered by courier at 16:30 Friday and Bradd set to work installing them. Unfortunately, one screw hole was drilled too small and of course late Friday – there was no one left in the yard.
Shrimper ‘Madam Butterfly’ came to the rescue and Bradd was able to borrow a ½” drill from him and a 5/8” bit from Extraviganza, a sport fisherman to get the hole enlarged. The installation was completed, tested and we motored out the St John’s River at dusk. It was an uneventful motor boat ride to Norfolk but that is OK - We had had enough excitement for one trip.
-In hindsight, the tug operator’s advice of an anchor wouldn’t have worked to hold us, BUT it probably would have held the bow into the wind and seas and slowed our drift.
- Know where your emergency tiller is stowed and what it is made of – is it substantial enough to control steering?
- Check the fitting to make sure that you can remove the deck plate and install the emergency tiller safely in difficult conditions. Does the emergency tiller fit in the rudder post?
- Try actually steering with the emergency tiller in heavy conditions and determine whether you can manage it for any length of time or are modifications required?
Like most cruisers, we pride ourselves on our self-sufficiency. In a pinch, another friendly cruiser is usually all it takes to keep us going. This time it was different and we are thankful that the Coast Guard, and US Navy was there for us. The tug and fishing boat answered our call gave assurance that we weren’t alone out there and “unlimited” Towboat US coverage proved to be one of our best-ever investments. TowBoat Captain Randi Olsen was most helpful, offering us the loan of his car and returning the 4 x 4’s and C-clamps to the CG. In Jacksonville; St John’s Boat Company, Jim Hendrick of MCS Marine and Liddy’s Machine shop all worked together in the design and manufacture of 2 new steering arms. The steering system today is better than the day it was built and she is none the worse for the experience. It was not one person but the collective efforts of many who made a happy ending to this saga.
When I was packing for the trip, I looked at my camera and thought “all I’m going to see is wide-open ocean”, so I left it behind. I would love to have a photo of War Ship 79 standing by, Coast Guard Cutter Kingfisher and her awesome jet boat, all the folks who lent their assistance but most of all – photos of the evolution of the Emergency Tiller. I’m sorry the Navy’s tiller didn’t last. If it had, I would have painted it gold & written US Navy War Ship 79’ on the handle for the boat’s owners. After all, it isn’t every day you get a custom-built part from a United States war ship!
photo courtesy of the US NAVY Warship 79 facebook page
Over the years as live-aboards on our sailboat we’ve collected countless stories in our logbook. You may have read some of them in sailing magazines over the years. We are working hard to bring them to you on our blog “Pearls from our Ships Log.” More than stories, you can find hard earned tips and advice. We are happy to answer any questions you might have about cruising along the Eastern seaboard. Leave us a comment or email us from our contact link!
Fair winds, Maeve & Bradd (or Mad & Brave!) Wilson.
]]>Over our past five years and 35,000 miles of cruising our own boat, a Beneteau 390, occasionally delivering boats for friends has been a welcome respite. It has allowed us to experience different systems and designs which, in some cases, we have incorporated on Sampatecho. We have always been over-cautious when “surveying” the subject vessels before setting out. Safety and survival have always been paramount in our cruising so we won’t be held to any artificial dead-lines.
We agreed to deliver a boat from Fort Pierce, FL to Norfolk, VA for friends who had to return home for medical attention. Bradd and I had been working on our boat in a yard in Beaufort, NC for a week and Bradd’s arms were bruised and sore from fighting with plumbing hoses. We were both ready for a sail boat ride and what a boat! She is a 47’ custom built racer, de-tuned from an Open 50 design by Roger Martin. She is a treat to sail with her self tacking jib, power winches and carbon fiber sails. She really flies. We considered it a compliment that the owners would allow us to take their boat north.
We spent a day with the owners learning the systems and reviewing the equipment above and below decks. One of the last queries Captain Bradd had was ‘Where is your emergency tiller?’ The owner jinxed us by saying we would never need it – “this steering is a totally reliable fail-safe steering system. There’s no way you’ll ever need it!” – but he showed Bradd the emergency tiller just in case.
We left Fort Pierce at 06:30 Tuesday morning with a reasonable weather forecast for the rest of the week. Bradd plotted a course that would curve with the coast line & not take us more than 50 – 60 miles offshore. If we drew a straight line from Fort Pierce to Beaufort it would take us much further offshore and north winds were forecast for that area of the ocean for part of the week. So he felt it would be more prudent to stay closer to shore to take advantage of better winds but be far enough off to get a little help from the Gulf Stream along the Florida coast. We calculated that if we could maintain 7 knots, we would be in Beaufort before noon on Friday and be in Norfolk by Sunday or Monday at the latest.
Winds Tuesday were variable and we did some motor sailing to maintain speed. After sunset the winds picked up & we flew along at 9 – 10 knots. By midnight the wind was up to 20 knots and so we reefed the main. The owner had told us that he doesn’t normally tuck a reef until the wind is close to 25. Seas had been building and it was becoming a wet ride but she has a hard dodger and a second chart plotter mounted on the coach-roof by the companionway. So we let the autopilot drive the boat and stayed dry and comfortable under the dodger.
By 05:30 the wind was gusting over 30 knots and Bradd decided to furl the jib and put a second reef in the main. We had just sorted out the lines to furl the jib when the autopilot failed and she started to round up into the wind. Bradd grabbed the wheel but before he could get us back on course, the steering “snapped” and failed completely and we were at the mercy of the wind and sails. She started careening back and forth. Bradd took hold of the main halyard and as she passed bow through the wind he managed to drop the main – thank goodness for lazy jacks! He retrieved the emergency tiller, removed the cap in the cockpit sole, positioned it and we once again had control.
Bradd went below to see why the steering had failed and to determine whether he could repair it. The boat was designed with small parallel arms on the steering post and the rudder post. Unfortunately, both the main steering wheel & auto helm steering arms had snapped off and were beyond his ability to repair. We were just over 50 miles from shore in 130 feet of water and about half way between Jacksonville & Fernandina. We checked the charts and decided to alter course for St Mary’s Inlet (Fernandina) where we knew we could anchor to sort out the steering problem. We were resigned to our revised agenda and settled in for a day of tiller steering at 5 knots under 100% jib alone in sloppy seas.
The sun was beginning to rise and by the dawn’s early light, we watched with open mouth disbelief and horror as the emergency tiller arm separated!! It looked as easy as peeling a banana! The emergency tiller was made of aluminum no thicker than a boat hook – who ever manufactured it should go straight to jail!
Now we were once again without any steerage and the self tacking jib began tacking back and forth. I realized that there was no way for us to readily ‘heave-to’ – so much for the ease of self tacking jibs – no thank you! We furled the jib and began a search of the boat for something to jury-rig a new tiller. We found that by putting the broken handle upside down in the rudder block and jamming tools around it, we could at least hold the rudder in one spot and try to keep the bow into the wind. We couldn’t get bow to the wind, even with the tiller hard over, but it did keep us from turning and running further offshore with the wind and waves. We were still drifting further from shore but not as quickly as we otherwise would have.
While I held the rudder in place, Bradd tried to radio the Coast Guard on the VHF radio. Neither the Coast Guard nor Tow Boat US answered our call – we were too far offshore. Bradd transmitted a PanPan to any vessel in the area. Danny on fishing vessel Misty answered our call at 07:30. He was about 20 miles closer to shore and was able to relay information to the Coast Guard.
...Hello all stations. Hello all stations. This is United States Coast Guard Sector Mayport, United States Coast Guard Sector Mayport. Time ….. universal coordinated time…... The Coast Guard has received a report of a 47 foot sailboat adrift in approximately position Lat….. Long….. All mariners are requested to keep a sharp lookout, assist if possible, and report all sightings to the United States Coast Guard. Signed, United States Coast Guard Mayport, FL. Out.”
Their broadcast was strong enough for us to hear them but they couldn’t hear us.
It was then a waiting game with plenty of time to contemplate our predicament and peruse hindsight. We both felt sick about it. We had done more damage in 24 hours to the owner’s boat than they had done since taking delivery – or could imagine doing! What could we have done to prevent it? Should we have reduced more sail sooner? Should we have stayed closer to shore where the winds may have been lighter?
Over the years as live-aboards on our sailboat we’ve collected countless stories in our logbook. You may have read some of them in sailing magazines over the years. We are working hard to bring them to you on our blog “Pearls from our Ships Log.” More than stories, you can find hard earned tips and advice. We are happy to answer any questions you might have about cruising along the Eastern seaboard. Leave us a comment or email us from our contact link!
Fair winds, Maeve & Bradd (or Mad & Brave!) Wilson.
]]>We had a great sail back to Canada but with disappointing aquatic life – no whales, dolphins or turtles this trip. We cleared Customs in Fortune, just three miles from Grand Bank on the Burin Peninsula. This is where the Customs office is located because of the ferry to Saint Pierre. Fortune is one of the richest fossil sites in the world & has been selected as the “global stratotype”. It is the international reference point for determining the earth’s age. No fossils or rocks can be collected without a permit.
One of Maeve’s nephews is married to a girl whose mother, Dorothy, grew up on Brunette Island, just north of the Burin Peninsula. Larry & Dorothy live in Ontario but have a house in Grand Bank where they return every summer for three months to visit family & collect their winter store of moose, rabbit, cod & berries. We called them once we had cleared customs & they drove over for a visit. We visited onboard & then drove to their house where they generously packed a bag of bottled moose, rabbit & jam for us! YUMMIE!
The next morning we moved the boat back to Grand Bank with the intention of taking Larry & Dorothy sailing. Unfortunately the high temperature that day was 11 degrees with a steady drizzle – not a good day to introduce anyone to sailing. We joined them for a proper ‘Jigg’s Dinner’ in nearby Garnish – part of the community’s ‘Bakeapple Festival’. Bakeapples are cloud berries – sort of like a small orange 4-part raspberry that has never matured. They are very tasty. After dinner they gave us a road tour of the Burin Penninsula.
The weather closed-in the next day but we needed to put a few miles behind us so we pounded our way out of the harbour. The weather cleared as we passed Brunette Island & our passage to McCallum was great.
Brunette Island, Dorothy’s home (and now another abandoned community), is the site of one of Premier Joey Smallwood’s failed attempts at expanding Newfoundland’s economy. In 1964, 24 Alberta bison were moved to the island in an effort to start a buffalo herd. By 1994 only one male survived. Dorothy tried very hard to persuade us that the buffalo had walked off the cliffs on the island and perished in the ocean. However, there is a strong suspicion that the local residents preferred bison to moose or cod.
Arctic Hare were also introduced to the island and since there are no permanent residents or natural preditors, they have overrun the island. Dorothy’s brother snares hares there & claims they can grow to over 25 lbs!
Grand Bank to Dingwall
We motored through fog and light winds to the Ramea Islands. We had planned to visit more fjords – Facheux Bay (pronounced Fushie) and Rencontre Bay (Round Counter) – but the fog was so dense there seemed little point. Ramea is populated with some very resourceful folks and is one of the few communities where the population is not decreasing. They boast treated drinking water, wind generated electricity (the first in Canada), a large community centre, a swimming pool & an ice rink. They have developed several hiking trails, a museum, sea kayak & bicycle rentals and guided tours. Our guide book which was published in 2006 makes mention of turning the closed fish plant into a marina but there were no signs of that project having moved forward. We happened to arrive on ‘Ramea Day’ and most services were closed for the celebration. A large tent had been erected behind the school & local bands were providing the entertainment. The music was quite good! But played till 2:30 – way past a sailor’s bedtime.
Next stop Rose Blanche again in hopes of buying more Partridgeberry jam at the lighthouse. No such luck but they did have fresh Bakeapple jam so we bought a jar for ourselves & a jar for Mary Jane to aid our pursuit of a rabbit pie.
It was a short trip back to Squid Hole the next day which left us time to explore Isle aux Morts – “Island of the Dead”. Named so because the coast off this area is strewn with rock outcrops & ‘sunkers’ galore. The town has developed a hiking trail along the coast in the area of the heroic rescues of the George Harvey family and their Newfoundland dog, ‘Hairyman’. In 1828, George Harvey and his dog & daughter rescued 163 people (Irish immigrants) from the sinking brig ‘Despatch’. The family was unable to reach the ship lodged on Wreck Rock in their rowing skiff and so they tied a rope to Hairyman & asked him to carry it to the ship. Hairyman succeeded in reaching the ship where the crew tied another rope for him to carry back to shore. They were thus able to rescue the remaining passengers & crew. In 1838, George & his daughter Ann rescued 25 crew from the sinking Glasgow ship, the ‘Rankin’. In recognition of Ann’s heroic deeds there is a Canadian Coast Guard vessel christened in her honour.
Newfoundland dogs have waterproof coats and webbed feet. They are intelligent, loyal and great swimmers. They are believed to have evolved from dogs brought to NL by all those early inhabitants – Norse, Scotts, French, etc. Lucky they are so big – the kiss of death to a breed of dogs is popularity and they are just too big for most folks. Good thing!
We managed to pick enough Bakeapple and blueberries along our hike to make breakfast more interesting. But if it is that hard to harvest Bakeapples, then they aren’t charging nearly enough for a jar of jam! When we retuned to the dinghy, a fellow was cleaning his day’s catch in a nearby boat. He offered us a fresh cod for dinner – who could refuse? Nice way to finish our stay in Newfoundland!
What a wonderful introduction to Newfoundland!! It’s a long, hard slog to get there, the weather can be uncomfortable and the anchorages tricky but it is well worth the effort. I would, however, suggest that anyone headed to the Rock be prepared:
This was arguably our most memorable and enjoyable summer cruise. The scenery is breathtaking, the navigation challenging and the people truly the salt of the earth. We learned tremendously from them all and are already making plans to return. I’m so glad and proud that our Canada includes Newfoundland.
]]>... continued from "Newfoundland - The last frontier"
We were fortunate enough to have another great day on the water sailing from Grand Bank to Saint Pierre. Although cold again, we had sun & good wind. This area is thick with whales, dolphins and a multitude of sea birds. A huge fin whale swam beside us about 50 feet off our starboard side for several minutes! Tough to get a proper photo as you can see by the attached! We also had a large pod of white beaked dolphins feeding near the boat and a school of large tuna nearby. Bradd spotted a Volkswagen sized Leatherback Turtle while Maeve was below making lunch :>(
It was like Old Home Week pulling into the Yacht Club. Our friends Yan & Nina on ‘Raven’, who we met 2 years ago in Bras d’Or, came to take our lines. ‘Al Shaheen’, who we played leap-frog with all summer last year were tied beside us. And Giles from Quebec City who we met in Francoise was also docked here. Unfortunately, the protected side of the dock was full and we ended up pinned to the outside of the dock in very high winds for the next 3 days.
It is only 28 nm from Grand Bank to Saint Pierre but what a world of difference! Saint Pierre & Miquelon are definitely France! The majority of goods here are imported from France and to a lesser degree, from Canada. French (Parisian – not Quebecois) is of course the official language although most citizens speak English as well. The currency used is Euros and the prices are European. French television is beamed in via satellite and everything runs on the standard European voltage. The Islands are heavily subsidized by France so the standard of living is fairly high.
The main industry has been the fishery for generations. However, the Golden Era for the islands was during the American Prohibition when fishing took second place to smuggling. With the decline of the fishery, the islands have worked hard at developing their tourist industry and have been very successful. Cruise ships dock regularly & ferries run daily to Fortune, NL. The airport is quite active.
The town itself is very colourful. Residents have not succumbed to the white vinyl siding of Newfoundland. And the shores & bays are still dotted with brightly painted fishing boats & dorys. They have an interesting method of hauling the boats ashore called ‘capstans’. They are wooden structures lining the shore and for the most part painted red. The boat is placed on the launch way and a rope from the capstan is attached to the bow. Then a long wooden pole is inserted into a slot at the top of the barrel and walked around to wind the line & pull the boat ashore. Very clever!
Bradd was kind enough to brave the cold at 7 am each day & head off to the Patisserie where he would stand in line to purchase the day’s bread – croissants, pain au chocolate & baguettes – mmmmmm! We spent much time browsing the wine shops & deciding which French rum to purchase. Tough decisions! All businesses in town close at noon & nearly everyone takes a 2 hour lunch. Most businesses reopen at 1400 but some remain closed till 1500 or even 1600. So civilized! On Saturday, most businesses close at 1200 and don’t reopen till 1400 on Monday.
The wind finally subsided and we were able to leave the dock to anchor in the harbour. We put the motor on the dinghy & explored Ile aux Marins (Sailor’s Island). This small island off Saint Pierre was the site of the original settlement. However, it is more exposed to the elements and the harbour is not as good. The community gradually relocated to Saint Pierre. Many buildings on the island are now part of a museum & open to the public. The remaining buildings are used as summer cottages by residents of Saint Pierre who want to get away from it all.
We decided to skip Miquelon this trip. It would have been necessary to anchor outside the harbour & there would likely be quite a roll left from the heavy winds we have had for the past 3 days. Besides, we have to save some of the good stuff for our next visit! Back to Canada tomorrow.
]]>
by Bradd Wilson circa 2002
Maeve and I are fortunate enough to be among a relatively small group of Canadians who live aboard and travel in their sailboats, plying the waters from Ontario or the Maritimes annually to the warmth and sunshine of Florida and the Caribbean. For most of us, this involves not only ocean passages under sail but stints of motoring the intra-coastal waterway along the American shore and also an inland stretch to avoid the perilous waters of Cape Hatteras. The latter stretch from Norfolk to Elizabeth City, can be made either the high-speed route through Coinjock and Currituck Sound or the “road less travelled” where this story takes place – the Great Dismal Swamp.
The Great Dismal Swamp canal was built a little over 200 tears ago which makes it the oldest man-made canal in the USA, (although Canada has some older). It was constructed by George Washington following his term as president to transport logs for shipbuilding from the inland Cyprus forests to the seaports of Norfolk, Beaufort, Newbern and the like. This is a strikingly beautiful waterway with abundant wildlife along the shores.
Branches, vines, kudzu and fallen trees overhang the narrow ditch and as night falls the Spanish Moss, swamp gas and ghostly shapes of ancient Cyprus trees give the swamp an eerie feel which has given rise to numerous spooky tales of the Great Dismal.
We left Elizabeth City early one April day headed for the Great Dismal Swamp timing our departure to reach the South Mills control lock at 09:00. The depth of the canal and swamp is controlled by a lock at either end and they have three scheduled openings per day. The Pasquatank River leading to the lock is fairly long and winding – longer in fact than I had estimated, and on this day both fog and current conspired against us. Try as we might, we just couldn’t quite make the lock on time. We arrived at five after nine and the lockmaster advised us that we’d have to wait two hours for the 11 o’clock opening!
We’re supposed to be cruising. We’re supposed to be taking it easy, smelling the roses along the way. My wife reminds me constantly that we’re NOT supposed to be rushing to meet schedules and arbitrary itineraries. But the old 9 to 5 “rat-racer” in me is hard to change. I’d planned our day and now for the sake of 5 minutes all those plans went down the drain. So we picked a spot in the middle of the narrow canal where the trees didn’t overhang too much, the bottom didn’t rise too abruptly, the wind wouldn’t swing us around too much and anchored Sampatecho to wait out the two hours. Besides, I could work on some of the ongoing maintenance required in this sort of travel.The depth of the canal and swamp is controlled by a lock at either end and they have three scheduled openings per day.
Busy hands made the time fly by and in no time, the lockmaster had opened the lock and was calling us to get in or we’d be waiting for another 4 hours for the next opening. I set aside my tools, started the engine and ran forward to weigh anchor while Maeve took the helm. The anchor chain sang through the gypsy as it came up through the murky Guiness-coloured water, then suddenly stopped! The chain was guitar-string tight and NOT moving another inch – snagged! I eased the chain, Maeve swung the boat around and we tried again to no avail. The lockmaster called again and we pleaded with him to hold the lock while trying everything possible to free our anchor from the clutches of the swamp bottom. Maeve drove the boat forward and I’d take up whatever slack was available. We gained inches at first, then feet and finally the anchor was visible! I couldn’t get it completely free of the water because of the weight of “something” suspended from its flukes. But we could turn and slowly make our way toward the lock!
I stayed on the bow as the water ran past and rinsed the mud off the big mass hooked on our anchor and revealed a washing machine! Someone who couldn’t be bothered taking it out to the dump must have thrown it into the canal. Someone who didn’t care about pollution or littering or the boats that might get snagged on it. The square housing had rusted away but the enameled drum and aluminum drive pulley and stainless steel shaft remained and the point of our anchor was now tightly embedded between the drum and pulley swinging like a pendulum from the bow of our boat.
“Thanks very much” I replied, acknowledging the obvious, “I knew that”.
“Well don’t be droppin’ that thing off in my lock, son. It’ll jam up the gates.”
So, the mangled, muddy mass swung back and forth and the gates closed, the water rose and the next set of gates finally opened.
South Mills is a quaint little southern town but since the Civil War, there hasn’t been a whole lot of activity here, unless you count the stock car races on Sunday nights. By now the brilliant April sun had burned off the fog and it seemed like everyone in town had lined the canal to see if there were any boats passing through. That would be us and they were not to be disappointed. We made our way slowly through the gamut to prevent our “hitch-hiker” from damaging the bow. As we passed, like a receiving-line, each and every one of them felt compelled to comment. “Hey Buddy, Didja know you’ve got a washin’ machine ahangin’ from yer bow?” “Hey Mister, Whatya doin’ with that washin’ machine up there?” or “Yo, where y’all goin’ wit my Maytag?” We smiled and waved and motored stately through the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.
Finally, we cleared the lift bridge that separates the north end of town from the seclusion of the Great Dismal Swamp, the first opportunity in what seemed like an eternity where we could address our conundrum. How to release a 75 lb motor, pulley and mud-filled drum from our 60 lb anchor? First I tied up the anchor and twisted, pulled and pried on the unwieldy contraption – no go! Then I tied up the washer, dropped the anchor and wiggled, jiggled and poked at the anchor – no go!
Finally, I climbed into our brand new inflatable dinghy to work on the mess from water level with the anchor secured and a line from deck relieving enough weight from the washer to allow movement.
I pulled, then lifted then pulled with one hand while lifting with the other. Then finally, the bond seemed to break, the drum twisted and my dinghy popped around in response as the mass shifted producing a pop followed by a loud “sissssssssss”.
The confounded machine had sliced a gash in our new dinghy!!! This meant WAR!!
As the forward section of the dinghy hissed and slowly collapsed around me, I wrestled with the drum and managed to tip it to empty the mud and water. Now significantly lighter, I smashed at the pulley whacking it with our boat-hook until it flipped over the anchor rode covering me with mud and slid free of the anchor.
My knuckles were bloodied, my clothes torn and muddied, our dinghy and my ego similarly deflated but at last we were free from the devil washing machine. With the drum now empty and upright, it slowly floated away into shallower water, water too shallow for me to retrieve it. It was a floating menace. Our plans to traverse the entire canal and spend the night in Norfolk were no longer attainable but we limped on 4 miles to the Visitor Center dock to lick our wounds.
A good night’s sleep works wonders. Next morning, we patched the dinghy and cast off around 11:00 bound for Norfolk. Once again we were enjoying the serenity of this tranquil canal when off to port, lurking in the bushes behind some exposed roots and vines, I spotted it. I shouted to Maeve in disbelief, “There’s a washing Machine in the bushes!!”
“Our washing machine?” she replied.
Somehow, it had floated itself up-stream 4 miles to settle in ambush for the next unsuspecting Canadian cruiser travelling through the Twilight Zone also known as The Great Dismal #Swamp.
I was speechless.
Over the years as live-aboards on our sailboat we’ve collected countless stories in our logbook. You may have read some of them in sailing magazines over the years. We are working hard to bring them to you on our blog “Pearls from our Ships Log.” More than stories, you can find hard earned tips and advice. We are happy to answer any questions you might have about cruising along the Eastern seaboard. Leave us a comment or email us from our contact link!
Fair winds, Maeve & Bradd (or Mad & Brave!) Wilson
]]>“Oh mighty Neptune, great ruler of the seas and oceans, to whom we who venture upon your vast domain are required to pay homage, we implore you in your graciousness to expunge the name (OLD NAME) which has ceased to be an entity in your Kingdom..."]]>
Explicit directions to
This is part-two of a two part tale.
For part 1: The trouble with renaming your boat why we chose to rename our boat.
First, you need to set aside around 4 hours for the entire affair but don’t schedule anything else for the balance of the day that involves driving, operating any sort of equipment or making financial decisions. Invite friends, family and anyone else who may find themselves crewing on the subject vessel. Costumes are not mandatory, but remember, you’ll be calling on the gods for lots of favours and you don’t want to offend them in any way.
Second, select as your Exorcist someone associated with the boat but not the owners themselves (so they still have someone to blame, just in case…). A flair for the dramatic is beneficial but more so are organizational skills to keep the process moving in an orderly manner as pressures escalate. You’ll also need one individual for each of the 4 wind gods; Boreas, Zephyrus, Eurus and Notus. All of the above should be briefed and provided with the “essentials” for their roles although individual creativity should be encouraged.
Third you’ll need copious quantities of good Champagne, not the cheap stuff. The gods have been around awhile and know champagne from plonk. You’ll need enough for at least 10 toasts and several speeches. Don’t run short!
“Oh mighty Neptune, great ruler of the seas and oceans, to whom we who venture upon your vast domain are required to pay homage, we implore you in your graciousness to expunge the name (OLD NAME) which has ceased to be an entity in your Kingdom. As proof thereof, we submit these remains bearing her name to be corrupted by your powers and forever purged from the sea”. Drop the remains into the sea. “In grateful acknowledgement of your munificence and dispensation, we offer these libations to your majesty and your court”. Pour a generous splash of champagne into the sea from East to West. Then all guests join in the toast (the gods hate drinking alone) “To Neptune”.
4) Now the Captain gets to “suck-up” to Neptune with the new name and it is essential that he or she memorize this speech as sincerity is paramount with this Neptune. Owner’s speech: “Oh Neptune, great and mighty ruler of the seas and oceans, to whom all who venture upon your vast domain are required to pay homage. We implore you in your graciousness to take unto your Book of Records and recollection this worthy vessel hereafter and for all time known as (NEW NAME), guarding her with your mighty arm and trident, ensuring her of safe and rapid passage throughout her journeys within your realm. In appreciation of your munificence, dispensation and in honor of your greatness, we offer these libations to your majesty and your court”. Pour another generous splash into the sea (East to West) for Neptune then a round for all present with the toast “To Neptune.”
5) The “admiral” now calls on the gods of the winds (blowing of a conch is a nice touch here); “Oh mighty rulers of the winds, through whose power our frail vessels traverse the wild and faceless deep, we implore you to grant this worthy vessel ( NEW NAME) the benefits and pleasures of your bounty, ensuring us of your gentle ministration according to our needs”.
6) Power-boat Option for the Admiral: “Oh mighty and great ruler of the sun and skies, to whom all life and we who bask in your rays are required to pay homage. We implore you in your graciousness to provide warmth and glowing radiance whilst we traverse your seas below. In grateful acknowledgement of your magnificence we offer these libations to your majesty and your court”. Fling a generous flute of champagne skyward (down-wind works best) from east to west then lead guests in a toast “To Helios”
7) The Exorcist now calls on all present in a toast (which may be as personal as appropriate) to the Captain, Admiral and the new vessel (NEW NAME) and an invitation to celebrate with the commemorative feast (because after all this toasting some food is pretty much mandatory).
So, that’s the exorcism and renaming of a vessel. Does it work? Well that ceremony was held in 2010 and we have subsequently travelled over 70,000 Nautical Miles from Newfoundland to the Caribbean and through the Great Lakes safely and comfortably. Oh we’ve had some storms and stuff still breaks from time to time. But overall, I’d have to say that the gods have been smiling on us and that our friends and crew have been good to us too. Most of all though, the boat has been good to us; so one more time, “Here’s to Sampatecho II.”
"tooooooooooooot"
We'd love to hear from you! Did you rename your boat? What was the old name? How did you choose the new one?
]]>
For part 2: How to rename your boat & satisfy the sea gods Directions for a boat name exorcism!
During the fifty-odd years I’ve been sailing, in everything from Nut-shells and Optis to day-sailors, racers, pocket cruisers and eventually on to passage-making cruisers, I have discovered that the most difficult part of each purchase (often even more so than payment) is the naming of the vessel. I’m speaking here of used vessels. I’ve never been able to buy one off-the-shelf. Those people have it much easier in this respect. There are those who claim that once named, a boat’s moniker should be left alone by subsequent owners, regardless of how meaningless or ridiculous that name might be. A name like “Wet Dream” might be cute for a teenager, it is hardly appropriate for just about anyone else. “Goodie-two Shoes and the Dirty Rotten Scoundrel” is a great name but does not lend itself to radio communications. No, I firmly believe that a boat’s name should reflect the owner, the vessel and the activities for which it is intended. It can be serious (Odyssey) or whimsical (Great Catsby), generic (Wings) or personal (Our Way), but it should be carefully selected for that specific boat with those owners at that particular point in time. Years ago, I made the mistake of throwing the “boat-name” process open to friends at a party where alcohol was served (in abundance). At the end of the night, a vote was held on all submitted names with the winner being “Follow That Camel” in honor of a 1950’s Abbott & Costello movie. It turned out to be a pretty good name as the boat grew into it but that’s another story. Suffice it to say that this may be a risky proposition.
"I firmly believe that a boat’s name should reflect the owner, the vessel and the activities for which it is intended"
This tale begins after 15 years of cruising aboard our Beneteau 390, “Sampatecho”. While the Spanish “sympatico” translates loosely to something in harmony with its environment, Samuel, Patrick and Echo are the names of our 3 kids so it fits! Sampatecho had been “home” for all of us as they grew up and when they had all gone off to university, it became Maeve’s & my full-time cruiser for five years of exploring the Great Lakes and east coast from Nova Scotia to Cuba. She was “home”. But we had agreed to re-evaluate our cruising life-style at the end of five years and having decided to continue, we also concluded that a larger boat would provide space for the kids to visit with their partners as well as give us a more stable platform for sojourns father afield, South through the Caribbean, North to Newfoundland and maybe even across the Atlantic. We were fortunate to find a slightly larger Beneteau 440 which we could almost afford, installed all the cruising equipment that we couldn’t afford but had to have anyway then after almost a year of re-fitting, we were ready to go except for one thing – the name. The existing French name for Moon & Sun, Lune et Soleil, was interpreted by bridge operators as “Loonie Sleigh” and had no meaning for us whatsoever so we began looking for a new name but we kept coming back to our old name of Sampatecho. The kids had, after all, been generous enough to give us our freedom and it would still be their home as often as they were able to join us. So, Sampatecho II it would be. Now for the hard part.
Changing the name legally is pretty straight-forward. She would be “documented” in Canada, so it’s just a matter of measuring inside, outside, up, down and across, filling out some forms then sending away a small stack of bills – no sweat!
The hard part is registering (and deregistering) in Neptune’s “Book of Names”! Neptune, Roman God of the Sea and his Greek cousin Poseidon, I’m told, keep a list of all vessels afloat in a massive Book of Names. Changing a name without the gods’ permission really ticks them off and results of a lifetime of problems, glitches and equipment failures which can even send your new boat down to Davie Jones (a relatively new keeper of the bottom of the sea).
And that’s not all! The old name must be removed and your new name instated with the 4 gods of the winds. Yikes!! None of this is easy since the gods are not to be found through the post office, in the yellow pages or even on Google. Fortunately, they can be summoned up from the bowels of ancient mythology through what we will hereafter call a “MARINE EXORCISM”. Honest, I’m not making this up!! I saw it on the internet!!
Descriptions of the required ceremony vary widely so I have compiled the common threads with enough extras to be sure it will all work and you won’t have to do it again, because it IS COSTLY!
"Jamie explained that when they relocated the community in Jersyman’s Harbour, they just took the houses with them! Dragged the houses down to the water, floated them & towed them off to their new digs."]]>
The weather is cold & wet again. In the low teens when we woke up, maybe 16 during the day, probably below 10 at night. Never mind – good sleeping & we are developing a skier’s tan.
We sailed from McCallum to St. Albans in Bay d’Espoir (pronounced ‘despair’). The Bay has the same high hills lining the passages but instead of the sheer granite cliffs we have become accustomed to, the green hills roll more gently down to the water.
This is the Aquaculture center of the province and the majority of the sheltered bays are home to cages of Atlantic Salmon and Steelhead Trout. Mussels are also farmed here. This Bay is connected to the rest of the province by roads & it seemed odd to see cars again! We needed fuel but none was available to pleasure craft on the waterfront so Bradd hoofed it with our jerry cans to the nearest gas station. He was given a lift by the fellow in charge of economic development for the area and so had an opportunity to ask more questions about the aquaculture industry.
Feed for the fish is sprayed into the circular cages in the water. Underwater cameras watch the rate at which the feed is being consumed as it falls. The feeding requires a delicate balance. If too much feed is sprayed in, some will not be consumed & will fall & build on the bottom which of course is undesirable. Ecologically it is not good to say nothing of the waste of expensive feed. Too much feed being consumed is also not good. This force feeding makes the fish too fatty & their poop is then nutrient rich. Bottom feeding fish like cod will consume the nutrient rich poop & that is probably what caused the dark flesh & smell that we were told about in McCallum. Just the right amount of feed allows the farmed fish to grow well without being too fatty, their poop is not nutrient rich & therefore will not be consumed by the bottom feeders.
The industry has obviously been very good for the town’s economy – lots of homes under construction, new cars, etc. St. Albans didn’t appeal to us – maybe too ‘townie’ – so as soon as we finished our business we sailed to Hermitage. Hermitage is technically not an out-port as it does have a road. But it has the out-port feel about it. The harbour is full of colourful boats but like the rest of Newfoundland, the homes have succumbed to white vinyl siding. We tied to the government wharf and the Harbour Master came by to collect the $3 docking fee. What’s not to love about this place!
Across from our dock, the boat Ryan Elaine lay on her port side when we arrived at low tide. It looked as though she had recently had a new paint job. As the tide rose that evening, she began to right herself & float. We watched her captain wait patiently for her to be floating freely. He then started her engines & took her to a dock. We suspect that the next day he would repeat the process, grounding her on her starboard to paint the other side. Beats paying for a haul out!
Cold again in the morning but good wind so we sailed out of Hermitage Bay and around to Harbour Breton. Great sail but wearing floater coats, gloves & wool caps on July 30th! We docked at the marina but found they had no services & we couldn’t pick up an internet signal that wasn’t blocked. So we moved to Jerseyman’s Harbour & dropped the hook. It is yet another site of an abandoned out-port but unlike Grand Bruit, all that is left is a few foundations, the cemetery and the helicopter pad.
We had visitors that evening – two young fishermen from Harbour Breton, Jamie & Jamie. They had never been on a sailboat before so welcomed our invitation to come aboard for a beer. We asked when the settlement had been relocated because we were surprised at the lack of building remains. Jersyman’s Harbour is just 2.5 nm from Harbour Breton & the
Jamies explained that when they relocated the community in Jersyman’s Harbour, they just took the houses with them! Dragged the houses down to the water, floated them & towed them off to their new digs!
The Jamies promised great things for us the next day if we stayed at anchor – bottled moose, scallops & fishing – but they had already imbibed a bit of party mix before they came on board & were heading off to another party. The next day dawned with heavy rains & dense fog.
Harbour Breton to Grand Bank
Fabulous day on the water! When NL gets a good day its a “LARGE” one. Blue skies, smooth waters, fair winds, whales, Atlantic white-side dolphins – what more could you ask for?
All of the male citizens of Grand Bank who are over the age of 70 spend their day relaxing and arguing the topic of the day on the 2 benches in front of the Harbour Master’s office. And so there is a knowledgeable collection of folks to take your lines & assist in the docking process. Following that there is a steady parade of people coming by to make your acquaintance & offer assistance. Another example of the fabulous Newfie hospitality.
Grand Bank, at the tip of the Burin Peninsula, was once the epicenter of the fishing industry in Newfoundland with nearly 400 years of history. Everything related to the industry took place here including the building of schooners, dorys and all the hardware needed to equip them. There is an interesting Seamen’s Museum (housed in the former Yugoslav pavilion from Expo ’67) and a walking tour of historical buildings in town. The museum boasts a large mural on the end of the building, once the largest outdoor mural in NL, and there are several other murals along the waterfront. They also have an excellent summer theatre. And we arrived just in time for their week long summer festival.
We bought tickets for a dinner/theatre production of ‘Toronto Adventures’ and tickets to see ‘Cod on a Stick’, written by CODCO. We noticed when we got back to the boat that our tickets for ‘Cod on a Stick’ read Row 3 seats 5 & 7. Not wanting someone sitting between us, Bradd went back to the box office to see if there was a misprint. ‘No me lad’ he was told, ‘We puts all the odd folks on one side & if you wants to get even, you have to go t’other side’. Don’t you just love it! Both plays were well produced & very entertaining. We were surprised at how relevant the CODCO play was given that it was written 41 years ago.
Next episode: Grand Bank to France!
]]>
We are learning to speak nautical Newfie. A ‘sunker’ is a rock lurking just below the surface of the water – usually spotted by the surf breaking over it. A ‘tickle’ is a narrow passage, such as the one we took in to ‘Squid Hole’. A ‘mish’ is a low lying wet piece of ground – a small bog? And a ‘blow-me-down’ is just that!
The next day we moved down the coast to Aviron Bay where we anchored at the head of the fjord below a 1200 foot high waterfall – amazing! We put the motor on the dinghy & spent the afternoon exploring the fjord. We found traces of a settlement in one of the bays at the entrance. The bay was very bleak without a single tree – hard to imagine how settlers could cling to that unlikely spot. The weather changed overnight bringing heavy rains and strong ‘blow-me-downs’. Our anchor held all night but we were up before 6 am, both of us anxious about our holding. We had breakfast, listened to the weather & decided to stay put. Bradd went back to bed while Maeve did some computer work & stood ‘anchor watch’. By the time Bradd woke we had moved enough to cause concern so we hauled anchor & found it fowled with kelp.
Francois was only 10 miles down the coast & the guide book said it offered good all around protection so we decided to move. Many of the out-ports have French names but there is nothing French about their pronunciation. Francois is ‘Fran Sway’. It has a great web site which you can probably find if you Google Francois NL. Their floating dock was occupied so we rafted to Rosita, a lovely boat owned by Michael & Hannah Moore (no not that Michael Moore).
Michael is a Senior Research Specialist with the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute. They were cruising NL on vacation this summer but they have spent many summers here since the early 70’s conducting whale research.
The wind was so strong that we were reluctant to leave the boat. There was quite a load on the dock & not knowing how it was anchored, we thought we should stay put in case something gave way. Luckily the wind subsided by evening so we were all able to relax. Rosita left in the morning and we took her place at the dock & went exploring. Francois residents have made a trail to a look-off point on the cliff south of the village. Where the trail passes through a ‘mish’, they have built boardwalks and on the steepest grades they have constructed stairs. From 1000 feet you get a fabulous view of the harbour entrance and the village.
We cast off after lunch and had the first good sail since arriving in NL. Our intention was to duck in the Rencontre Bay (round-counter) but the sailing was too good so we continued on the Hare Bay – another fjord that some say is the most beautiful on the south coast. We have become accustomed to being alone in the anchorages and so we were surprised to find a converted fishing boat already anchored at the head of the bay. It was disconcerting when he fired up his “whisper-quiet” generator that evening so that he could blast out his Gordon Lightfoot tunes. It could have been worse – at least we like Lightfoot.
Hare Bay to McCallum
Countless cruising friends told us not to miss McCallum so we called it a day at noon and picked our way into the harbour and town dock. The town’s one man welcoming committee was on the dock to catch our lines. Herman (pronounced ‘Arman’ with an Haich) Fudge spends his days walking the town & talking to anyone & everyone including himself! He’s a wonderful ambassador – friendly, helpful with a great sense of humour. We set off to explore town. There are no roads in these out-ports but well maintained boardwalks connecting the houses & service buildings and eventually leading out of town to hiking trails that usually end at a look-out. McCallum is particularly pretty & well serviced. The school just has 9 students but has 2.5 teachers and first class equipment. There are just 2 other children in town, too young to attend school yet. Beside the school is a medical clinic with a helicopter pad across from it. The helicopter delivers the nurses every two weeks and a doctor when required.
Terry McDonald, the town’s Harbour Master, came by in the evening to collect our docking fee ($6.00). We invited him aboard to share some rum & he was able to answer our many questions about the fishing industry. Their lobster season here is very short – just three months, April to June. This was a pretty good year for the catch & they were paid $4/lb. Last year they were just paid $2.75 which barely covered the cost of bait for lobsters (.45/lb) and they didn’t catch their quota. The rest of the fishery is not doing well. They are paid just .60/lb for cod and only .15/lb for ocean perch. There is some aquaculture in the area but it is very controversial. Locals tell us that cod caught near the aquaculture cages have dark coloured fillets & stink. They blame it on the cod (bottom feeders) eating left over food and excrement that falls through the cages of the farmed fish.
Terry planned to fish with his father (80+ years) the next morning & offered to take us out cod fishing after he delivered his catch. We jumped at the opportunity. Terry went out with his father at 4 am and by 9:30 he had delivered his 200 lbs of cod (small catch) & was ready to take us out.
Maeve said ‘You’ve probably had enough fishing for one day – are you sure you want to do this?’. Terry smiled & said ‘If it makes you happy me love, it is what I want to do!’. We had our limit of 15 cod in less than an hour. The jig Bradd was using had two hooks & he even got a two-fer!
Terry then dropped us on a remote beach. His father had been born and raised in that unlikely cove till he moved to McCallum. While we beach-combed, Terry removed the cod’s tongues for us. Back on shore, Terry & Bradd cleaned the fish & we split the catch. Terry joined us for dinner & further enlightened us on life in a Newfoundland out-port.
]]>
With the help of the radar & GPS we made our way east to Rose Blanche where we docked at the government wharf. Rose Blanche is at the end of the road from Port aux Basque. The small community, like most others along the coast, has a dwindling population. With the decline of the fishery, many young people are now working in Fort McMurray, Alberta. Homes are being purchased as summer cottages by people from Ontario, something I think the locals resent.
We hiked to explore the restored Rose Blanche lighthouse. The lighthouse was originally built in 1871 and operated until the 1940’s. It was then replaced with an automated lighthouse & fell to ruins. In 1996 a three year restoration began and it is once again operational. The fog had not completely retreated so we weren’t able to enjoy the spectacular view. The trails around the lighthouse & back to town made for a very pleasant afternoon despite the rain & fog. Thank goodness for the heater Bradd installed.
Fog again in the morning but the locals told us it would clear so we cast off & headed for Grand Bruit (pronounced Gran Brit). A Rose Blanche fisherman told us the town was abandoned last year.
When the population of an out-port dwindles to the point that it is no longer practical to maintain the generator & ferry service, the residents are asked by the government to relocated. It must be a unanimous decision to do so. On the appointed day, all power and telephone lines are cut off and the ferry stops running. Residents are allowed to return to their homes in the summer for five years. After that, they can rent their homes for $1/year from the government. They are not allowed to make any changes or improvements to the buildings and cannot reverse their decision to re-locate.
Grand Bruit is so named because it means ‘great noise’ for the waterfall that cascades through the middle of town. Brightly painted houses dot the hills on both sides of the bay. Between the houses, the hills are covered with buttercups, clover, irises, roses and more – quite a beautiful site. But no people! It was very eerie walking the streets expecting to see children jump out any second from their game of Hide & Seek. Such a shame to see a lovely town like that die.
How to visit the Newfoundland coast if you don't have a boat
We finally awoke to sunshine the next day and continued down the coast to Burgeo. This town has a road in and so has become the ferry terminus for some of the out-ports along the south coast. If you are boatless and wish to see some of the south coast, you can book passage on the ferries. Many of the out-ports now boast Bed & Breakfasts. So adventurous travelers can disembark at an out-port, spend the day exploring the many trails, fishing & visiting with the locals and then catch the ferry again the next day. We did some provisioning – beer can be purchased at almost every store in NL and we found rum & wine at the hardware store! Next we caught up on our wi-fi news, bought some fresh cod & set off again the next morning.
The coast from here east is called the Fjord Coast. It is magnificent & rugged with cliffs rising over 1200 feet and water depths equaling that. One fjord after another cuts deeply into the coast – some several miles long and all indescribably beautiful. We chose Grey River as the first to enter. It is not really a river but a multi-branched fjord. From the coast, you would never guess there is a harbour. The narrow entrance (approximately 400 feet wide) is barely visible against the high cliffs behind. Once inside, the winds are vastly different to the winds on the open ocean. We had our first experience with ‘Katabatic’ winds. These are downward bursts of air that the locals call ‘Blow-me-downs’. They are created by surface cooling at higher elevations causing the wind to roar down the slopes and along the fjords at gusts of up to 60 m/h (100 km/h). Sailing in the fjords is an interesting challenge!
]]>
Our friends in Nova Scotia raved about Newfoundland; the fjords, the islands, the food and the people but two things had always dissuaded us - cold and fog. 2011 was our year to install a heater, tune-up the radar and take the plunge.
]]>
By Bradd & Maeve Wilson
After seven years of cruising almost 50,000 miles, I’m embarrassed to say that we had never made it to Newfoundland. Since leaving the Great Lakes in 2004, Maeve and I have sailed the Eastern Seaboard, to winter in Florida & the Keys, the Bahamas and Cuba. During our summers we had explored the North Channel, the St Lawrence, New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia but had never taken the leap across the Cabot Strait to the “Rock”. Our friends in Nova Scotia raved about Newfoundland; the fjords, the islands, the food and the people but two things had always dissuaded us - cold and fog. 2011 was our year to install a heater, tune-up the radar and take the plunge.
Our departure point was Dingwall, NS. It is the most northerly harbour in Cape Breton and just 65 nm from Port aux Basque, NL. It is a great all weather harbour with good depth. Unfortunately, although the entrance is dredged every spring, it continues to silt in. We approached carefully but just as we reached the jetties, a swell picked us up & dropped us on bottom. A VHF call to Sydney Coast Guard brought us directions into the harbour. We headed for the entrance again. At the same time, someone on shore had watched our initial approach & had telephoned Paul Fitzgerald, a Dingwall fisherman. Paul & two crew came out in one of his boats to meet us to guide us in. Once in, they offered us their wharf to tie up rather than anchor. They quickly docked first & were waiting to catch our lines. Such service!
We chatted for a while, mainly about the weather, fishing & hunting. I said I was looking forward to ‘bottled moose’ in Newfoundland. Paul left & was back in minutes with four moose steaks & a small moose roast! Can anything beat the Cape Breton kindness & generosity?
Our crossing was unpleasant but uneventful – a good thing. We were only able to sail for about an hour – motor sailing the rest of the time. The wind was from every direction but the right one & so were the seas. We made landfall in the early evening at Isle aux Morts, approximately 6 nm east of Port aux Basque and made our way in to Squid Hole, one of the most beautiful anchorages we have ever seen. Luckily we took photos when we arrived because we woke-up to dense fog the next morning.
]]>