TripSailor.com® Sailing Blogs

Sailing at sea can be very adventurous and we had certainly enjoyed viewing the marine wildlife but for the sheer pleasure of good sailing it is hard to beat a large lake, especially one with plenty of islands and coves to explore. Waves are not much of an issue and with several arms to the lakes there is always somewhere new to investigate whatever the wind direction. While we were in Baddeck, we ordered a replacement for a broken part on our windlass (it would still pull up the anchor but this was now a two-person operation) and asked for it to be shipped to Baddeck. This gave us a good excuse to spend several days exploring the huge Bras d’Or Lakes before we started to wend our way back south along the coast. On Wednesday, before setting off on this "vacation", we enjoyed an evening with "The Baddeck Gathering Ceilidhs" (pronounced kay-lees) where we listened to Cape Breton fiddle and piano music, watched some step dancing, and learned the differences between various types of Celtic tunes and "ethnic" styles, and that clapping to the music is a disapproving signal for the music to end but loud foot tapping to the rhythm is not only acceptable but expected. It was great fun and the musicians were very relaxed and willing to talk about both the Cape Breton music in general and their personal routes to playing it (classical violin training in Kansas then moving and changing to the Cape Breton style versus a long-time Cape Breton family of piano players).

After a couple of rather grey days that included one night of torrential rain, we were treated to sunny skies for much of this period with sufficient winds to make sailing worthwhile. We used this opportunity to learn more about sailing Tregoning, which until now had been more of a "making-do" type of sailing but we needed to add a bit more finesse to make it more efficient.

On August 14^th, we sailed southwest from Baddeck to spend a couple of nights in Maskells Harbour. This trip is less than 10 miles under power but being almost dead into the wind became a full afternoon’s journey as we tacked back and forth across the lake learning how to coax Tregoning to sail as close to the wind as we could (angled about 45-50 degrees either side of directly upwind). On Thursday, we interrupted lazing around and reading with an exploration of part of the shore from the dinghy. This included a beautiful pebble spit that protected the natural harbour and an uphill walk to a viewpoint along which we found a glorious abundance of wild raspberries. Between eating handfuls of them fresh, we collected a mug-full (Randall had conveniently brought and drained a travel-mug of coffee) and that afternoon he made a delicious apple and raspberry cobbler!

From this wonderfully protected cove in the northern lake that was surrounded by steep, tree-clad hills with only a couple of small buildings visible, we sailed toward the southern lake. Having motored through Barra Strait (sailing is not allowed through the narrow draw-bridge) we enjoyed tacking upwind and then between islands to spend a couple of nights in another very protected anchorage, Clarke Cove at Marble Mountain. This cove was a bit more developed and being the weekend we were able to share the happy sounds of one particular household partying into the wee hours! Sunday morning was wet and ideal for further vacation-minded novel-reading, then in the afternoon we ventured ashore and hiked (somewhat steeply) up to the top of the disused Marble Mountain quarry where the ground was white with marble chips. Randall entertained us both by identifying the trees (such as white and black spruce, white and big-toothed poplars, and quaking aspen) and we were treated to spectacular, sunny views back over the lake and islands. Ravens noisily greeted our entry to the quarry and at the highest section we briefly saw a falcon in the cliffs overhead. The habitat, general appearance, and our imaginations screamed peregrine falcon but we did not know what characteristics to look for quickly to be sure and the maps in our North American field guide indicated that they do not occur in Nova Scotia. Some days later, we saw a Nova Scotia bird book that included peregrine falcons so, with an element of reservation, that will be our final answer. On the Bras d’Or Lakes, we see bald eagles most days and this morning, for example, one flew low enough over us as I was jogging that Randall called to me from his bike to "look lively" lest it decided to view me as a slow-moving snack!

With the benefit of another sunny day on Monday, we continued tacking upwind to the Crammond Islands near the head of the West Bay in the southern lake. We anchored for a swim and lunch in the calm waters of the narrow channel between the two islands. Another splendidly scenic spot, we had been directed to visit them and Marble Mountain by a Nova Scotian sailor, Christian, whom we’d met in Baddeck and we greatly appreciated these suggestions. Our navigation to the excellent anchorages in the lakes was aided by the Cruising Guide to the Canadian Maritimes (the fruit of our search in Halifax) and this useful book had also mentioned the trails ashore that we had enjoyed in Whycocomagh and Marble Mountain. Also on the recommendation of this book, we spent that night in Little Harbour (just northeast of Marble Mountain) after an excellent afternoon’s down-wind run, and ate well at the recommended Smokehouse Restaurant overlooking the almost land-locked cove.

Strong southwesterly winds the next day created noticeable waves as we headed back towards Barra Strait, making the downwind run a bit more lumpy and sea-like than might be expected on a smaller lake. So by the time we tied up at the public wharf in Iona (just north of the bascule bridge on the west side of Barra Strait) it was mid afternoon and too late to cycle up to the Highland Village Historic Site. Many locals were swimming, fishing, and enjoying the sunny afternoon, and we were later joined by another sailboat which we recognized as the single-handed sailor, Gary, with whom we had chatted prior to entering the St. Peters Canal lock.

We cycled up the hill to the Highland Village this morning in bright but windy conditions and thoroughly enjoyed their recreation of the historical Gaelic colonization of this part of Nova Scotia. The walking tour is organized in chronological order, starting with a recreation of a simple, dry-stone, sod-roofed "black house" from the Western Isles of Scotland in the 1790s, and progressing through the 1800s to early 1900s with a log house, several frame houses, a church, barn, blacksmith shop, school, and general store. In most buildings we were greeted in Gaelic (and there is a modern Gaelic school nearby) by costumed guides who were extremely knowledgeable and good at talking in terms appropriate to their period. No knowing quite what to expect of "North America’s only living-history museum for Gaelic language and culture", I must confess to having been a bit ambivalent about going to visit this site, but in the end we both really enjoyed it. We found the woman in the replica of the Scottish black house, the story of moving the 1874 church by barge 15 miles across the lake in 2003, and the demonstrations of butter-making and iron-forging to be particularly interesting. There were some highland cattle, Soay sheep, a pig, chickens, and a Clydesdale horse and several guides were cooking using the products of these animals (at least the milk and eggs), or carding, spinning, and weaving wool. The progression in the houses from hand-spindles to spinning wheels over time provided me with pleasant memories of my father, a skillful knitter, who made a similar transition after my mother, as a bit of a joke, gave him a hand-spindle and some wool at the beginning of his retirement.

On his mother’s side, Randall’s McMillan family came from the Scottish Isle of Arran to North America in the mid-1800s and initially lived in New Brunswick. On our journey south we hope to be more successful in renting a car and, if so, driving to the place of their settlement in New Mills, NB. Between the Gaelic signs on the Cabot Trail, the evening at the Baddeck Ceilidh, and our recent education about Scottish settlers in Nova Scotia, we are starting to feel quite well prepared in anticipation of this over-land expedition.

August is supposed to have the best weather in Nova Scotia but as we heard wherever we went, this year was exceptional…cloudy, wet, and cool instead of sunny and warm. An unusual weather pattern of low pressure over New England was dousing us in northeasterly winds rather than the warmer southwestern breezes that would typically be associated with a high pressure over the North Atlantic. Having been delayed in our departure from Halifax, we didn’t have time to sail around the northern coast of Cape Breton and get the lads back to the airport, so we decided to visit the spectacular Cape Breton Highlands National Park by road rather than sea. We had tried unsuccessfully to rent a car when we were in Halifax and when we also tried in Baddeck, it appeared that both rental cars in the whole of Nova Scotia were booked out for the summer! Instead we signed up for a tour of the Cabot Trail with Bannockburn Discovery Tours and this turned out to be a good decision. We shared our van with just one other passenger, Eugene, a teacher of English and Drama in London, who was an entertaining and interesting companion. Having learned Gaelic in his youth in Ireland, Eugene was fascinated by the Gaelic on the sign posts in eastern Cape Breton (French on the western shore) and he pronounced and translated some of them for us.

Our driver, Walter, a native of Cape Breton provided us with many excellent stories of the area and patiently answered our endless questions. Somewhat predictably, the clouds were low over the eastern coast and we had to enjoy what views we could in gaps between the fog. But we did see the place where John Cabot supposedly made first landfall in North America in June 1497 having left Bristol, England with a crew of just 18. As we passed across the northern edge of the National Park over the highlands that are reminiscent of Scotland, it (also reminiscently) poured with rain. But on arrival at the west coast of the island we were rewarded with bright sunshine and the clearest skies we saw for many days. The impressive views of the coast overlooking the Gulf of St. Lawrence were just as breathtaking as promised and we were grateful for the timely break in the weather. Our return to the gloomy skies over Baddeck was punctuated by the inevitable stop at a gift store in Chéticamp (a French-speaking community where highly decorative hooked-rugs are traditional) and a bizarre "Scarecrow Village" (a large circle of dressed scarecrows with celebrity or grotesque masks) which I found positively creepy.

Sunday was another grey day but we took a guided kayak tour of Kidston Island (which is not distinguished on Google maps but shows up on the satellite image) which protects the Baddeck waterfront and got a good view of one of the bald eagle nests. Although we were all fairly experienced with kayaks, our informative guide, Paul, gave us good instruction on how to paddle with minimal effort and to use the rudders on the sea kayaks. During our circumnavigation we got good views of the huge Alexander Graham Bell summer home across the bay and the museum dedicated to him in town. We spent part of the afternoon visiting the latter and learned not only that Bell was a prodigious inventor of many things besides the telephone (responsible for the first powered, manned flight in the British Empire on the frozen Baddeck Bay and a record-breaking hydrofoil boat) but appeared to also be a very kind, loving family man, a good neighbor, and champion for the deaf. Baddeck, which is celebrating its centennial in 2008, is clearly and justifiably proud of this founding citizen.

Thomas and Roger treated us to a delicious dinner out that evening and on Monday morning we took them in the inflatable to the bus stop two miles west of town to catch their bus back to Halifax airport. They had long wait for the their flight in Halifax but were going to spend a day in Iceland on their way home. We had thoroughly enjoyed their stay and as perfect, uncomplaining but fully participatory guests, they have set a high standard for future visitors! The rest of Monday and Tuesday were drizzly and good for getting groceries, doing laundry, and generally relaxing as we plan our next move. As always, this will be weather dependent but we’ll probably spend the rest of August in Nova Scotia then head back south towards Boston through September and aim to be around Cape Cod in October…

Although we had been made to feel very at home in Purcell’s Cove, by the time the winds appeared to suitable for an eastern passage, we were keen to explore more of Nova Scotia, particularly the island of Cape Breton. We left the cove bright and early on Tuesday August 5th with the intent to sail overnight to St Peter’s in southern Cape Breton. However, after a bit of sailing away from the shore it was evident that with the off-shore winds meeting the large residual swell from the days of on-shore winds, it was going to be choppy and uncomfortable. So we motored in-shore and anchored in the sparsely populated Owl Head Harbour. The next day we enjoyed motoring in sunny weather between the many small islands close to shore in an area known as "Bay of Islands" east of Tangier, and in the afternoon sailed a bit more offshore. That night we motored in rather unpleasantly rolling seas around Cape Canso and across Chedabucto Bay to the island of Cape Breton.

Calm was restored in St. Peters Bay and we arrived at the lock on St. Peters Canal just before its first opening of the day at 8 am. Prior to the construction of this lock in 1869, small boats were pulled on skids by oxen over the narrow "Haulover Isthmus". Depending upon the state of the tide, the modest rise going into the lake varies from 2 to 5 ft. The lock is the only southern entrance to the huge system of Bras d’Or Lakes which has two navigable outlets to the ocean to the north. The lake system has relatively warm, brackish water, little tidal fluctuation, and is sheltered from the wind and waves of the open sea, so it is a popular cruising area. About twice the size of Lake Champlain in upstate New York (450 sq miles or 1100 sq km), the lake has many islands, long peninsulas, and dramatic tree-covered shorelines that drop steeply into the water.

Having passed through the lock into the southern basin and on reading that there are over 20 species of marine fish including healthy populations of cod, mackerel, herring, and lobster, the lads jigged (unsuccessfully) for cod for a short while. We then headed to Barra Strait, the narrow opening to the northern lake where Roger navigated us through the bascule bridge. Although the sky was cloudy all day, there was a suitable wind for Thomas to sail us past Baddeck (where the annual Regatta was in full swing) and south to Little Narrows. On approaching Baddeck, we saw at least a dozen bald eagles of various maturities sitting on one small island and others were seen perched on trees elsewhere along our route. The Bras d’Or Lakes are home to about 200 nesting pairs of bald eagles and there are several nests around Baddeck. At Little Narrows we had to make sure that we didn’t get caught on the cable that crosses the channel for the small car ferry (it drops to 12 ft when the ferry is ashore but it is near the surface when the ferry is crossing). We spent Thursday night at anchor in Whycocomagh Bay (which Google maps doesn’t seem to know is water!) We dined at Vi’s Restaurant by the Trans Canada Highway (which runs from Sydney NS to Vancouver, BC) and got soaked in the rain walking back to the dinghy.

Friday was a bit brighter and we assaulted Salt Mountain (787 ft – 240 m) overlooking Whycocomagh. It proved to be an excellent woodland hill-climb with more trail markers (kindly provided by the Boy Scouts) than one might have thought possible. Views of Whycocomagh Bay, including the First Nations reservation across the bay from where we had anchored, and out across the Bras d’Or Lakes were absolutely spectacular and much enhanced by the sunny intervals. It was good to get some aerobic exercise and very satisfying to see the landscape from a perspective other than water level. In the afternoon we cruised back to Baddeck and tied up at the public wharf. As had been noted in our cruising guide, this is a focal point of the town and even our boat (which is little compared to some of the large motor cruisers that pass through) attracted quite a bit of attention. People are particularly interested in the solar panels and wind generator and within 20 minutes we had a couple from Saskatchewan (a non-coastal province) aboard to see how spacious it is below. That night we were treated to the sounds of the Regatta participants having a rollicking party at the neighboring Bras d’Or Yacht Club including some bands of varying talent and the splashes of several people deciding that 1 am was an ideal time to go swimming!

Tuesday July 29th was a bright sunny day and we took Tregoning from Purcell’s Cove up to the waterfront in downtown Halifax and tied up by Summit Plaza (site of the 1995 G-7 Economic Summit) and the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic. We met Thomas and Roger as planned at noon at the large Town Clock by the Citadel. Keeping time since 1803, the turret clock was made at the request of Prince Edward, Duke of Kent to honor his return to England in 1800. It was good to see my nephews who had enjoyed an uneventful flight the previous day from London and, after a night in an airport hotel, had caught a bus into Halifax. Thomas had just finished his first year of an engineering degree at Bath University, and Roger is just about to start his second year at sixth form college (= senior in high school). In meeting them as planned, it was very good to know that we had accomplished one of the main objectives of our trip from Florida. The motivation of this rendez vous had kept us from languishing for longer than needed in the US when things had needed fixing.

That afternoon, after walking past St. Paul’s Church, the oldest building in Halifax (1750), we toured the Halifax Citadel National Historic Site of Canada with its commanding views of the harbour (now glimpsed between high-rises) and excellent exhibits. The staff, including the kilted 78^th Highlanders, are in costumes of 1869 when Halifax was a key naval station in the British Empire. That evening, Eric and Ellen joined us for drinks on the boat and we enjoyed an excellent dinner at a Thai restaurant. This was followed by a wander through the Victorian Halifax Public Gardens, which were begun in 1836 and consist of 17 acres of immaculate flowerbeds, attractive ponds, and winding paths. They appeared to be at their flora best in late July.

The next day, after a walk along the waterfront to get supplies at the supermarket, we spent the morning at the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic with its excellent exhibits on the Halifaix Explosion and the Titanic. I was embarrassed not to already know about the Halifax Explosion because it was the largest man-made, non-nuclear explosion, that resulted from the collision of two wartime ships (one of which was loaded with explosives) in December 1917. The explosion and resulting fires laid waste to a huge area of north Halifax with at least 2,000 people killed, 9,000 injured, 199 blinded by glass (as people unknowingly watched the burning ships), 1,600 buildings destroyed and 12,000 damaged. The exhibit was very informative and poignant. Similarly, the exhibit about the Titanic was based on the very personal stories of survivors and casualties who were brought to shore or buried in Halifax. These stories of rescue and recovery were all the more touching to us because Eric and Ellen had told us how they had been involved in the recovery operation (no survivors) after the crash of Swiss Air flight 111 into the sea just west of Halifax in 1998.

On Wednesday afternoon, we enjoyed the Museum of Natural History and the free downtown bus service FRED (Free Rides Everywhere Downtown!). We then motored back to Purcell’s Cove, which Tom and Roger explored while getting used to handling the inflatable dinghy. We had originally intended to head east towards Cape Breton on Saturday but the weather was not in our favor with rough seas and head-on, on-shore winds so we decided to play it safe and comfortable and stayed in Purcell’s Cove until Tuesday, August 5^th. While we waited Randall and I sorted out new propane tanks for the boat (because it was getting difficult to get the old, horizontal-style tanks filled), got the laptop fixed (thanks to a friend of Ellen and Eric’s), and fixed the guest head (which had apparently not benefitted from a lack of use in the last year!). On the more fun side, Thursday was still sunny and Vince showed Tom and Roger the local viewpoints and a path up to the tea-colored waters of Purcell’s Pond where we all swam across the lake later. Ellen and Eric kindly lent us their car for a couple of days so on Friday we went to the famous Peggy’s Cove on the coast west of Halifax. The site is a very popular tourist destination with an attractive lighthouse that can be visited on dramatic, pink, granite rocks. Being the only lighthouse in Canada with a post-office inside, we dutifully sent a post-card to the lads’ parents in England. The cove near the lighthouse is picturesque but tiny with just enough room for a few local fishing boats. We stopped briefly at the simple but moving Swiss Air 111 memorial on our way back to Halifax. That evening we had a fabulous lobster feast with Eric, Ellen, Vince and Dianne. Such amazing hospitality!

The day at Peggy’s Cove was rather overcast and Saturday and Sunday were distinctly wet and cloudy. On Sunday, we returned to downtown Halifax to do a tour of the Alexander Keith’s Brewery (strong on history of Mr. Keith but rather weak on brewing information). Sadly, the firework display planned for Halifax Harbour on Saturday (and then Sunday) had to be cancelled due to the wet weather. On Monday, while Randall was fixing the toilet, the rest of us enjoyed a day hiking to the two deserted forts on McNab’s Island. Not as dramatic-looking as the extensive damage to Point Pleasant Park on the south-side of Halifax, there were still many trees on McNab’s Island that had been uprooted by Hurricane Juan which hit Nova Scotia on September 29, 2003 as a Category 2 storm, with 100 mph winds.

So we set off again on Friday afternoon (meeting a CAT ferry as we departed) and in more fog and 15 -20 knot winds we motored that night around the southwest point of Nova Scotia, Cape Sable. It was actually not quite as rough as we had anticipated (it is a rather notorious passage) and our passive bird-watching of many sea-birds (particularly several puffins, gannets at various stages of maturity, many Wilson’s storm petrels, and some other petrels that I still need to identify) was an extra benefit. After many hours depending upon the radar in the low visibility, we left the fog bank quite suddenly around noon on Saturday and the sunny seascape had a particularly vibrant clarity.

The overnight passage had been cold and if we kept going straight for Halifax we risked arriving before dawn which would not be desirable for such a busy, fog-prone port. So we turned into Lunenburg to catch up on our sleep on a mooring ball for the night, having read that it was a must-see place but not really knowing why. How lucky we were to make that decision! In 1995 Lunenburg was designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site because it is an "outstanding example of planned European colonial settlement" settled in the mid 1700s by German immigrants. Without even going ashore (the dinghy was comfortably ensconced on the deck) the view of the town from our mooring ball was most impressive with a busy waterfront, numerous churches, and many attractive buildings in a multitude of colors. A busy fishing town and an historic center of shipbuilding, there were several large, interesting boats near the Fisheries Museum of the Atlantic including Bluenose II. This is an exact replica of the famous ocean racing schooner, Bluenose, that was built in Lunenburg in 1921 and raced undefeated for 18 years, and which is the image on the Canadian ten-cent coin.

Promising ourselves to return when we had time to go ashore, we departed Lunenburg early on Sunday morning and had the most glorious, sunny, calm run to Halifax. The lack of wind necessitated further motoring but the glassy sea made for unforgettable wildlife viewing. We saw many birds, both harbor and grey seals, porpoises and Atlantic white-sided dolphins, one distant, cruising whale and four very active whales that mesmerized us for about 15 minutes before one swam right under our bow and the group moved on. Considering that we saw them blow many times, clearly saw their ridged rostrums (front part of the head) and their dorsal fins (falcate to hooked) and even saw the tail fluke of one and a pectoral fin of another, it was frustrating not to be familiar enough with whale characteristics to be able to clearly identify these beautiful giants despite our excellent guidebooks. From above they appeared to be a fairly uniform dark grey, were very smooth skinned, and were at least the size of our boat, 40 ft. Undoubtedly baleen whales in the Rorqual family, we were pretty sure that they were not the giant blue whales or the frequently seen humpbacks. Appropriate to the area, the likely candidates are: Fin, Sei, and Minke whales. Whatever they were, we felt honored to share a brief part of the morning with them with no one else around.

Our wildlife encounters and the sunshine having put us in exceptionally good moods, we motored into Halifax harbour past the numerous fortifications along the coast and on McNab’s Island. Being a Sunday afternoon, the harbour was full of pleasure boats including many sailing boats participating in club races. We refueled at the Royal Nova Scotia Yacht Squadron near the mouth of the attractive and narrow but deep Northwest Arm of the harbour and then headed back out to Purcell’s Cove where we had been offered the use of a mooring by Eric and Ellen Haynes. By phone they had told us to look out for them in a dinghy near the island in the cove so we looked for them as we started to head directly in towards the island. We had just decided from the charts that it was going to be too shallow on our current course when we spotted them frantically waving to us to come around where they were in the deeper channel. We apparently did not hear our cell phone on which they were trying to call us to prevent the seemingly imminent grounding! Once in the right channel we made quite a procession as we, motoring in our large boat, followed them in their little row-boat with their black Labrador, Hooch, swimming behind them, to the mooring. What a delightful place! We were sheltered behind Spectacle Island in a beautiful cove with views to the Northwest Arm, Point Pleasant Park, and toward Halifax Harbour.

After the rather lengthy process of unloading the dinghy and outboard, we meet Eric and Ellen on shore and they generously offered use of their house while they headed off to work a night shift. We had briefly met them previously at the boatyard in Fernandina Beach when they were leaving for the Bahamas in November 2007. After discussing where they lived and our travel plans, they had unsuspectingly offered us the use of a mooring if we really did make it to Halifax. The mooring ball actually belonged to their neighbors, Vince and Diane Purcell (yes, of the cove’s name) and the hospitality of these two couples was amazing. We learned much about the cove from Vince and from a book that he kindly signed and gave us, written by his aunt. A popular fishing area, it was known as Mackerel Cove by the First Nations people until in 1752, when the cove and island was granted by Lord Cornwallis (who founded Halifax for the British in 1749) to William Russell. In 1828, Samuel Purcell purchased the grant and renamed the cove, and Vince is a sixth generation member of this family.

That evening we buzzed over to downtown Halifax in the inflatable dinghy and enjoyed looking at the excellent waterfront facilities stretching 1 km (0.6 mile) from the cruise-ship docks and Pier 21 National Historic Site (which has an immigration exhibit like Ellis Island in New York, NY) to Casino Nova Scotia. With the kind help of Eric and Ellen (particularly driving me to a supermarket) most of Monday was spent cleaning-up and getting things ready for the arrival of my nephews. That evening, we celebrated our on-time arrival in Halifax and the hospitality of our hosts by enjoying the wonderful bottle of champagne that had been presented to us the previous July by our friends in the national Aquatic Plant Management Society. Along with a fine dinner and bonfire marshmallow-roast with Vince and family, we were thoroughly welcomed to Purcell’s Cove…an event made all the more memorable by watching the space station pass overhead and seeing Hooch polish off the last of our cream-cheese appetizer that had been momentarily left unattended on a table at a convenient dog height!

It turns out that our decision to delay departure to Nova Scotia for a day was a good one. On arrival in Yarmouth (at the southern end of the province) we were greeted by a very friendly local, Roger, who was excited to tell us about an experienced, single-handed, trans-Atlantic sailor heading east who had tried to get around Tropical Storm Cristobal but instead had been rolled several times in 20 ft seas, de-masted, and had to be rescued by helicopter. He was certainly further out than we would have been but such stories (which non-sailors feel particularly compelled to repeat in lurid detail) are an important reminder not to hurry and ignore the weather. As it was, our crossing of the mouth of the Bay of Fundy on July 23/24 was relatively calm but was largely fog-bound and being at night it was significantly cold in the damp air. The currents that make the tides of the Bay so famous were noticeable both in affecting our direction (mostly cross currents for us) and in the changeable state of the water surface. Only around the San Juan Islands of the Pacific Northwest had we seen more visible and variable water conditions due to currents.

With a view of a bald eagle on the beach, we had left our anchorage in Southwest Harbor in sunshine on Wednesday morning having had a good lobster dinner for Randall and fish & chips for me at the Captain’s Galley on Beal’s Lobster Pier the night before. But as night fell we were very thankful to have had the radar fixed and especially in the morning as we motored gingerly into Yarmouth Harbour in thick fog.

As our Port-of Entry into Canada, Yarmouth was a good choice as the customs process by phone was very efficient. At the marina, we also saw a couple of customs agents meeting another boat who were very welcoming. Having been quite chilled overnight, it was a bit of a surprise to find that as the day advanced it not only warmed up but became very hot and humid…thanks to the southwest winds pulled up by Cristobal. We walked all around downtown Yarmouth and along an excellent path at the water’s edge, back out towards the sea. We re-provisioned (given that we had reduced the amount of food we would bring into Canada) and had a delightful meal out to celebrate getting to Nova Scotia. We liked Yarmouth with its industrious fishing fleet and facilities for visitors by private boat or the high-speed CAT ferries from places like Bar Harbor and Portland. Our only disappointments were needing to leave before the boat parade-of-lights that weekend, and finding that our laptop was showing the flickering, mulit-colored screen of death. A local computer consultant wasn’t able to help us but suggested that Halifax would be the best place to consider buying a replacement…Fortunately, we have all our electronic charts on the chart-plotter as well as the laptop but we would have to get the latter fixed or replaced to download weather charts and access other boat-related documents, as well as for email, blog-updates, etc.

We had set our sights on Southwest Harbor (SWH) as a place to stop for a week or so before crossing to Nova Scotia for several reasons:  1) although SWH is a small town, between it and the nearby (at least by dinghy) Northeast Harbor, there are several good marine/hardware stores that could supply us for the various maintenance, upgrading, and fixing tasks we had to complete; 2) there is a Furuno dealer who could check-out our recalcitrant radar; 3)  Bar Harbor is a free bus-ride away and site of a US Customs Office; 4) it is a relatively straightforward passage to the Canadian port of entry of Yarmouth at the south end of Nova Scotia; and 5) we have a fondness for the place having got married in SWH on Oct 3^rd, 2003! We found the place where we stayed and were married (having decided that the potential scenic sites in Arcadia National Park were a bit too windswept and crowded on the day).  However, the charming Bed and Breakfast where we had been so royally entertained had changed hands and was now a rental house.  Still, it was great fun to revisit the town and we especially appreciated the Wi Fi services of the small but busy and well-managed public library because there appears to be no coverage for our new Alltel internet air-card in Maine! Given the frequent and often sudden fogs, it was essential that our brand-new but now non-functioning radar was fixed. This was accomplished during a morning’s visit to the Hinkley Boat yard where the radar technician and other staff there were very efficient and helpful.  I enjoyed jogging around the area while this operation was in progress and we also had time to admire the many Hinkley power- and sail-boats in the harbor.  These are particularly beautiful, high-quality boats with a price-tag to match.  Southwest Harbor is an interesting place with many of these luxury yachts, a lot of old wooden sailboats, like the Friendship Schooners we had seen racing, and many commercial boats.  The most numerous of the latter are the lobster boats and as a result any waters with depths between 10 – 60 ft (deeper when it is hotter), are full of multi-colored floats marking lobster pots.  Our anchorage was surrounded by a patchwork of floats of various fluorescent color-schemes (each boat has their own float colors) which changed almost daily as the pots were checked, emptied, and replaced.  Our boat’s presence may not have thrilled all of the lobster-fishers but most of those checking pots near us early in the morning were very friendly and graciously kept their boats’ wakes small. In and around SouthwestHarbor, like most of the Maine coast, there are granite rocky shores with pine-forests above the shoreline bluffs.  With a 9 – 12 ft tidal range it was a pleasure to watch the seaweed-covered rocks rhythmically appear and disappear although this somewhat surprisingly included some very large rocks in the middle of SWH.  Pay heed to the navigation markers and lights!  An afternoon in NEH revealed an even more sheltered and steeper-sided natural harbor that has many moorings that are clearly very popular with cruisers.  However, the tidal ranges here pale in comparison to upper parts of the Bay of Fundy, a rift valley at the northeast end of the Gulf of Maine between New Brunswick and Nova Scotia.  In places at the head of the bay there are water depth changes of 52 ft (16 m) over a tidal cycle.  Impressive to see but we decided most likely we would visit by land in Nova Scotia rather than try to navigate such rapidly changing conditions in the boat. Our other expedition out of SWH was to Bar Harbor on the free, propane-powered, island Explorer Bus service.  Running hourly from SWH, this is an excellent service supported by Acadia National Park Service and L.L. Bean and it was packed on the picture-perfect Wednesday that we crossed Mount Desert Island.  We enjoyed re-visiting Bar Harbor, which is the largest and most-visited town on the island, and enthusiastically walked from the relaxing Village Green to the terminal for the ferry to Canada.  Our mission was, as recommended on the US Customs Service website, to apply for pre-clearance at the Customs office to simplify our return to the US.  Ah, the best laid plans…  Not only was the Customs office only open on Mondays but when we called the Bangor office we were told that the website information was out-of-date (so why still there?)  Now it is necessary to call ahead of one’s return from Canada and an officer will come to wherever you land to provide an in-person inspection.  OK, so much for trying to make things simpler and more efficient… An unexpected highlight of our sojourn in SWH was being in town for the Lobsterfest weekend (a fund-raiser for the local hospice) and particularly for the Saturday morning (July 19^th) parade.  There were siren-wailing fire-engines and floats from the Coast-Guards (with a large base in SWH), various camp-grounds, Hinkley Company, Friends of the National Park, etc.  There was a car with the local, inventors of the lawn flamingo (which was the logo for the event) and our favorite was the library’s costumed interpretations of several children’s books and a precision, library-cart formation team.  The latter exhibition ended with a three-cart pyramid of great vigor and splendor!  Our chance position near the end of the parade route resulted in being showered with candy as the participants unloaded their treats.  Nearby children gathering (wrapped) candy from the road exclaimed that this was better than Halloween. Our wildlife viewing included more guillemots, harbor seals, and a large buck near the Hinkley boatyard and we heard several loons.  We love Mount Desert Island and thoroughly recommend it as a place to visit.  Our boat-related activities prevented us from taking time to go hiking on this trip but we will be back.   We had originally intended to go to Nova Scotia on Tuesday (July 22^nd) but have postponed our trip for a day to avoid tangling with the remnants of Tropical Storm Cristobal, recently arrived from the SE US.  But we are excited about going to Canada and meeting up with my nephews in Halifax on July 29^th…

At last, the perfect day, so please forgive a bout of waxing lyrical!  Wind at 10-15 knots from the NW which meant that we could sail northward at 5 – 7 knots on a close-reach with the wind 60 degrees to port off the bow, hardly any waves, sunshine, and whales.  This was the day we had been working for…and it made us very happy.  Thursday morning arrived with a reduction in wind which allowed us to replace the shackles on the jib, raise it, and re-furl it without too much sail thrashing around the deck.  We then embarked on a fit of seizing every shackle that we could identify in which the pin might come loose.  This was followed by hauling the dinghy on deck in preparation for several days of heading north.  Our tentative plan was to spend the night at the Isle of Shoals, just off the coast on the New Hampshire/Maine border, but only if we arrived early in the evening.  As the name implies, this was not an area to be approached after dark.  As it turned out, we were happy to sail past all the flashing lights and save the visit for another time because, well, we were sailing happily.  Cape CodBay, into which we sailed after motoring out the Plymouth channel, is a popular whale-watching area, and as Provincetown faded away from the southeastern horizon our excitement grew.  Not that either of us could claim any great wisdom as to the favored locations of whales in relation to the complex underwater topography of this deep-water bay but we did know how to look for the large, commercial whale-watching boats.  Sure enough, in the afternoon our route approached a collection of variously sized boats overseen by a small, circling plane and through binoculars we were captivated by the numerous water spouts, rolling backs and dorsal fins, and the occasional tail-fluke.  The latter was the unmistakable signature of a humpback whale but we could not really tell if we saw any other species.  The closest approach to us was about 200 yd so the camera was not deployed and there was no fear of accidental contact but nonetheless it was profoundly good to know that these giants are still out there. The perfect day was followed by a beautiful night that, as forecast, had “light and variable winds” which is the technical description for making little sailing progress and having to frequently change direction or sail position.  Friday (July 11^th) dawned with glassy seas and by mid-afternoon the teasingly gentle breezes and lack of headway although relaxing was insufficient progress for our needs.  The perfect sailing conditions, as we had just experienced are like the rare moment of vertical position on a pendulum swing.  The rest of the time the wind is insufficient (below 5 knots for a well-laden boat such as ours) or too strong (currently anything much above 20 knots until we become more confident of all the rigging and how to reef – reduce the size of – the mainsail).  Less than ideal wind direction (such as from dead-ahead) can be overcome by tacking along a zig-zag rather than direct path but nothing feels quite as perfect as the wind on your face, a direct route, taut sails, and a healthy speed on the knot-meter.  The rest of the time the sailor makes the best of the conditions and with no timetable or storms to avoid learns to enjoy ghosting along or the thrill of taming an overpowered boat. However, by the afternoon our desire to get further north before the end of summer turned us back and to avoid being unprepared at sea on Sunday when 25 knot winds were (correctly) forecast, overrode our sailors’ (and penny-pinching) reluctance to turn on the engine.  So we aimed for Mount Desert Island, Maine (home of the better-known AcadiaNational Park), motored for the second night, and enjoyed star-gazing from the calm waters.  Of course, one advantage of motoring is the increased maneuverability which we put to the test soon after ignition when a large black fin was spotted near the boat.  This was the third such fin we had seen but our ability to circle the creature allowed it to be the first time the owner was identified.  Obvious that it was not an air-breathing mammal we were at first puzzled by the long time spent at the surface by such a big fish and impressed at the ominous realization that this was a very large shark.  But patient observation of the rounded snout and eventually a spectacular head-on view of the combs of gill rakers in the huge gaping mouth confirmed that it was a member of the second largest fish species in the world (second only to the whale shark), the plankton-feeding basking shark.  I remembered reports of these from my youth in Cornwall but to look down on one so calmly…well, basking in the clear North Atlantic water was a remarkably exciting experience. Our sunny, early morning approach to Mount Desert Island between the smaller islands and ledges, occasionally supplementing the motor with an unfurled jib, was another perfect passage.  Cooler air, mountainous topography, pine-woods aroma, and a host of new, temperate wildlife again raised our spirits with the thrill of all that to which we had been looking-forward.  One grey seal, several harbor seals, harbor porpoises (at least that was our best estimate of the small dolphin-like surface rolls), a puffin, loons, black guillemots, and several dovekies greeted our arrival in the southern bays of Mount Desert Island.  Anchoring near GreeningIsland, just north of SouthwestHarbor we had found a wonderful new home looking out to sea down the long “Western Way” channel in one direction, and in the other up Somes Sound, said to be the only true fjord outside Alaska in North America (subsequent reading about Newfoundland makes me think that this claim must be limited to the continent or to the USA).  After much-needed engine-warmed showers and naps, our spectacular vantage point was only enhanced further that afternoon by having a ring-side seat for the start of a race of Friendship Schooners, beautiful, wooden-sparred, gaff-rigged, old boats with long-bowsprits.  Even after three days at sea, there is nothing like the view of elegant boats sailed well in a stiffening breeze to make one ready to hoist the main again!

From Padanaram our main objective was to get through the canal that eliminates the necessity of navigating all the way around Cape Cod.  At 480 ft-wide and 10 miles long, this is supposedly the largest sea-level (no locks) canal in the world.  However, the differing tidal ranges at the ends (4ft at the west end and 9ft at the east) result in strong currents (4-6 knots) and necessitate timing one’s passage to go with the flow, in our case on a flood (rising) tide.  To catch this tide during daylight, we had to hop from Padanaram to spend the night near the canal mouth and for this we selected the bay at Onset.  While waiting for a suitable tide on which to leave Padanaram we decided to clean the wheel that measures boat speed through the water since its reading was always slower than the speed over ground measured by the GPS (suggesting the unlikely situation that we had always had a current flowing with us).  As you might expect, this wheel is under the boat and cleaning either involves a swim or, supposedly more conveniently, one pulls the wheel on its mount back up through the hull.  Now, this leaves an open, underwater hole through the hull which is obviously not a desirable state of affairs.  A suitable plug to replace the extracted wheel is provided and a flexible valve is supposed to reduce the influx of water while the plug is substituted for the wheel.  Sounds straightforward but as we discovered, should be practiced out of the water first…  Because if you pull the unit out to reveal an emphatic sign of “Do NOT Remove” on the outside, you will find that there is no valve, the plug is not big enough to fill the hole that you have opened up, and water will fountain up in the cabin most spectacularly.  This is being written on a still-floating boat not in an insurance company office because, luckily, a plastic bag held firmly over the hole by hand is sufficient to quell the flow.  In the long-run this is a good thing to know about a small breach in the hull, but at the time it did not thrill the person (me) who had recently spent several hours drying out the now re-flooded bilges.  Closer examination of the extracted wheel showed that we had also pulled out the valve-containing sleeve that, indeed, should not be removed and into which the plug would have fitted perfectly.  After the much-needed wheel cleaning and another brief fountain we replaced the sleeve and wheel (all secured by screwing into a large, brass through-hull fitting so no unexpected popping-out by a large wave) and the bilges were pumped-out once more. After sufficient excitement for one morning, we motored uneventfully up Buzzards Bay to Onset and anchored in the bay busy with Sunday afternoon boaters.  As we turned off the engine, we were very satisfied to note the well-charged state of all our batteries.  After a dinghy ride to the town dock we enjoyed walking around the town and stocking up on a few supplies.  The town of Onset has sensibly maintained large expanses of public beaches and these were being fully utilized except for one fenced-off area.  Enquiries about that and the large number of people purposefully setting up chairs overlooking the bay revealed that rain had caused postponement their Saturday (July 5^th) firework display until tonight.  So after watching fireworks from Padanaram on Friday and Saturday we were going to be lucky enough to be entertained for a third night in a row.  The reality was unusual but not quite as spectacular as planned.  Low clouds over the bay meant that any rockets launched high were almost completely obscured by surprisingly dense cloud or only the bottom of half the display was visible, descending oddly from the clouds.  We could only hope that the assembled crowds at the town beaches had a better view. At seven on Monday morning we approached the Cap Cod canal and enjoyed a stately tide-assisted cruise under its three attractive bridges and alongside morning joggers and skaters on the adjacent tow-paths.  Once in the calm waters of Cape CodBay, with a promise to investigate more of the Cape and associated islands on our return in the fall, we turned north contemplating a stop somewhere near Boston or going overnight to somewhere further north.  Randall dropped fishing lines in the water (unsuccessfully) and the breeze picked up enough to warrant unfurling the jib.  As usual, we unrolled the large fore sail from its furling apparatus on the forward stay using the jib-sheets. (Note: consider checking-out a website such as www.sailingstop.com/sailingterms.htm if you are confused by the sailing lingo and thought that sheets were only useful on “berths”.)  As anticipated, for a moment the sail bellowed out satisfyingly but then, most unexpectedly we watched aghast as it suddenly collapsed onto the deck and, inevitably, into the water.  Throwing the motor into neutral we rushed forward to haul the wet canvas aboard and lash the pile to the deck before any of it could get caught on the propeller.  Well, that changed our plans because it was going to require a trip up the mast under calm conditions to reattach the jib to the top of the furling apparatus from which it had become detached due to a the pin falling out of a shackle.  We also saw a frenzy of seizing all shackles with thin wire to prevent the pins twisting their way out in our future. So we headed into Plymouth, MA, and tied up to a mooring rented out by the Plymouth Yacht Club.  Anchoring places are limited in the sheltered harbor of Plymouth and with 30 knot winds forecast later in the week the reassurance of a mooring seemed worth the price.  And what a location! We were close to both the 1956 Mayflower replica and the Plymouth Rock, both of which I had an especially good view of from the top of the mast when  Randall hauled me up in the bosun’s chair so that I could rescue the top of the furler before the winds picked up.   It was Randall’s first visit to Plymouth and although I had been a couple of times before I had never arrived by boat.  On our way to pay for our mooring we rode the dinghy close to Mayflower II and wondered how more than 100 people and their possessions had crossed the Atlantic in a boat that was scarcely more than twice the length of Tregoning.  We also peered at the rather diminutive Plymouth Rock behind the bars that prevent entry from the sea (or beach at low tide).  The large surrounding Victorian portico was under renovations so from the street the rock could only be seen through an uninspiring plastic window in the scaffolding. The Plymouth Yacht Club seemed to be doing better, claiming to be one of the oldest, still active yacht clubs in the US, founded in 1890.  It appears to have a very active and enthusiastic youth program and as a temporary member I was able to enjoy the spectacular sights from the clubhouse decks while waiting for our laundry in their excellent facilities.  We spent much of Tuesday (July 8^th) riding our bikes.  First to get a replacement shackle and assorted other things at various stores and then to investigate what turned out to be a dirt forest road that took us past some cranberry bogs to the curiously named BillingtonSea (the freshwater lake that fed, Town Brook, the Plymouth stream that the pilgrims found so attractive).  After lunch we visited the excellent and newly expanded PilgrimHallMuseum where we learned much about the Pilgrims’ story including many of the 18^th century fabrications of story and paintings.  The following day, after taking care of laundry and other domestic tasks we walked through the well landscaped gardens along Town Brook, through the fascinatingly old cemetery of Burial Hill, and up to the oddly abandoned-feeling, 81 ft-tall granite National Monument to the Forefathers which graces the harbor’s skyline with the personification of Faith pointing heavenward.  We returned via the jostle of restaurants, ice-cream stalls, and souvenir shops that crowd the waterfront.  In our opinion, Plymouth has a classic mix of captivating history and cheesy tourist features but with careful focus on the former is a very interesting and attractive place which made us surprisingly thankful for a broken shackle.

We left Block Island on Wednesday July 2, and ended up motoring in fog towards Buzzards Bay which separates the Massachusetts mainland from the west end of Cape Cod and the ElizabethIslands.  Having purchased a federal fishing permit online and organized his fishing equipment while we were at Block Island, when we were sufficiently off-shore Randall set up a rod and trolled behind the boat.  After about an hour he hooked his first fish of the year and landed a decent-sized Greater Amberjack.  This was a great excitement to Randall and wee had lightly-fried, fresh fish strips for lunch and enjoyed a couple of subsequent meals on this much-heralded catch.  That evening, we anchored near the entrance of Padanaram (pay-dan-air-am) harbor, close to the huge mooring field of sailboats managed by the New Bedford Yacht Club (NBYC).  Rather confusingly the charts show the local town as South Dartmouth.  As we enjoyed the cooler weather, we were treated to the sight of Wednesday evening yacht races just outside the harbor. Less encouragingly, by next morning it was evident that despite all the motoring, the engine starter battery was not being charged by the new alternator and it we were only just keeping the refrigeration and chart-plotter going based on the wind and solar power when under power.  With 30 knot winds forecast for the next afternoon, on Thursday morning we had to jump-start the engine to move to a mooring ball.  We knew that we would sleep much better in the high winds without having to worry about the anchor holding.  We made use of the NBYC launch service and onshore found a boatyard that was willing to trouble-shoot our alternator problem even on the afternoon before the July 4^th holiday.  There was agreement that all was not well with the alternator (including the fact that a 100 amp fuse had been blown) and they promised to take it and bench-test it on Monday.  It was encouraging that they seemed to be curious about why it was not working and what was wrong…not just pushing to replace it and be done, so we settled down for a long-weekend on the mooring.  A few fireworks on the horizon on Thursday night lifted our spirits, along with greeting from a fellow cruiser, Trevor, who stopped by having heard us commenting on our alternator problems on the radio. We spent the morning of July 4^th, completing the wiring for our new mast-lights (which thrillingly were seen to work that night) and in the afternoon we were invited to visit Trevor and Jennifer’s boat (a much newer, larger, and very beautiful version of ours).  From them we learned many useful things about sailing in the area and, hearing from a friend of theirs who was a few weeks behind us and had been caught in many thunderstorms, it was confirmed that we had made the right decision leaving Florida when we did even though not everything on the boat was finished. It turned out that Trevor was a retired electrical engineer who was fascinated by our electrical problems and he returned to out boat with us to explore our problems further.  Eventually it was determined that the new alternator had not been installed correctly and so had never worked properly.  Judicious use of a sturdy button with the center drilled out (thank goodness for the odd buttons in my sewing kit) as an insulating washer fixed the problem and Trevor’s tests and explanations gave us plenty of confidence that things were looking up.  Running the engine for a little while did wonders for the battery charge and Trevor’s kindness and wisdom was celebrated long after he had left our boat.  We watched the panorama of more than a dozen July 4^th fireworks displays on a 300 degree arc around the bay finally hopeful that our electrical problems were solved…or at least greatly reduced. (We will replace the button with an appropriate washer at the first opportunity.)