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Louisbourg (pronounced locally Lewis-burg but named after King Louis XIV of France) is now a small town on the east coast of Cape Breton but in the 1700s was third (or fourth depending whose account you read) busiest seaport on the continent of North America (New York, Boston, and Philadelphia being the competitors). With interest in this nautical history in mind, we set off for Louisbourg from Sydney, intending to spend two nights there and then make an overnight passage to arrive in Halifax on the evening of Saturday August 30th. And, yes, we were making the turn southward having concluded that Newfoundland and points north will still be here the next time we make it to this part of the world. But as I will explain, the weather chose not to cooperate and this log is being written on Tuesday Sept 2^nd with arrival in Halifax unlikely until Thursday.

The morning of our departure from Sydney (Wednesday August 27th) arrived with winds of 20 – 25 mph and 6 ft seas but we decided to slog our way around the northeastern tip of Cape Breton under power. Randall stayed in the cockpit and despite some significant bumps and rolls through the sloppy waves felt all right. Based on all previous experience that indicated that I would be fine making breakfast, doing the washing-up, and securing (mostly by putting on the floor) everything mobile in the boat, I did so without much thought until it occurred to me that I might be starting to feel a bit sea-sick. Oh, to be proven to be human after all! I wasn’t sick but decided to take a tablet of meclizine to be on the safe side and within half an hour was feeling better enough to be doing Su Doku puzzles…in the cockpit. It was a rough passage into the waves until we turned southwest around the headland of Cape Breton.

Once in Louisbourg, we were welcomed by Peter from Halifax, single-handing the boat "The Wanderer" that was tied-up ahead of us on the public wharf. In turn we welcomed, and because the wharf was full had tie up along-side us, David and Scott in "The Puffin" who we’d met briefly in Baddeck and, like us, were headed to Halifax. We went out to dinner with David and Scott and had similar plans to visit Fortress Louisbourg the next day then move on to Halifax.

Well, as pleasing as it was that the public wharf is free in Louisbourg (including a power cable hook-up and use of the nearby washrooms) the place we had on it turned out not to be ideal for the conditions that were to follow. There is a 4 – 5 ft tidal range in the harbor so lines have to be left slack enough for low tide, or must be adjusted during the day…and night. We were on the leeward (downwind) side of the wharf (which is good – pushing us off it) but were closest to the shore, which sloped like a beach and was exposed at low tide. During our first night, low tide occurred about 2 am and we were kept awake by various unfamiliar noises. Mostly they could be identified as the crunching of the fenders and fender board on the wharf as the slightly rolling harbor water bumped us against the wall, but we suspected that one particularly unpleasant grinding noise was something on the bottom rubbing against the keel. So after a poor night’s sleep we talked our neighbors in to all moving forward a bit so that we could be in slightly deeper water. Everyone was very cooperative but this now meant that all three boats tied to the wharf on our side (us, Peter, and a fishing boat) were quite close together and had to be managed carefully so as not to swing back and forth into each other at high tide.

More worryingly, the forecast included a "gale warning" with gusts up to 40 mph and up to15 ft seas. Although we were in the safety of a harbor, our cruising guide had warned that a residue of large swells could work its way into the wharves. So while David and Scott went off to enjoy the Fortress, Randall and I stayed on the boat adding and adjusting lines as the winds and water movement increased. As darkness fell, the wind only got stronger and it became obvious that sleep was not going to be much of an option with all the sounds and jerky movements. By low tide at 3 am, there were actual waves breaking on the shore behind our boat, our cleats (where the ropes were attached to the boat) were groaning menacingly, and finally one of the lines (luckily a thin one) keeping us from rolling forward with the backwash of the waves into Peter’s boat, snapped. Breaking lines is never a good thing and this galvanized us into realizing that the extra weight of "The Puffin" tied alongside was certainly not helping us to keep control of our boat in the wave action at low tide. So having roused David and Scott, we helped them move up to tie alongside the fishing boat, which was probably a more stable and comfortable position for them anyway, and we added yet more lines to our boat (10 in total). As if this were not enough adventure, we then noticed a large log floating behind our boat. Like us, it was being rolled back and forth by the wave action so it was not going to be swept hard against Tregoning, but we didn’t want it bumping her gleaming hull even gently. Without a lot of optimism, Randall started flinging a lasso in its direction but with no branches to snag it was more a way to pass the time than anything else. But his summer working at a "dude-ranch" paid off and by about the eighth attempt he had the log roped. With great satisfaction, he hauled it to shore and secured the line. For the rest of the morning, we kept two-hour watches to make sure that nothing else went awry in the wind and rain. We think that Peter (probably the most experienced sailor among us) slept through the whole thing!

Needless to say, there was not much activity on Friday from any of us who had spent the night on the wharf but a steady stream of locals came down to check on their fishing boats. These boats, lacking a keel and not tied-up by the surf-zone, appeared to have hardly moved all night long. The winds and swell calmed down a bit by evening and Randall, David, Scott and I were able to drag ourselves away from the boats long enough to attend the evening performance at the neighboring Louisbourg Playhouse. A musical entertainment called "Spirit of the Island", it was performed by five excellent, local musicians and refilled us with enthusiasm for Cape Breton. A rousing mixture of comedy, sing-along, fiddle-music, local sea-shanties, and soulful ballads, it was exactly the pick-me-up that we all needed. That, along with, a more peaceful night’s sleep.

Saturday dawned bright and breezy so with Randall on a bike and me jogging, we made the 5 mile round trip to visit the lighthouse guarding the entrance to the harbor. The views were magnificent and the waves crashing against the rocks reminded us that although the wind was diminished the sea would take a little longer to calm down. Still, we returned to the boat to see The Puffin venturing out. Since we were going to spend the day at the Fortress we were destined to spend one more night at the wharf as was Peter, who was waiting for a friend. On our return from the lighthouse, the purchase of a Cape Breton newspaper confirmed our suspicions about the August conditions. With a headline of "It’s the wettest August on record" the article added that with three days still to go it was likely to be (and we are sure became) the wettest summer month ever recorded in Cape Breton with rain on 22 out of 28 days. And we were there!

Louisbourg was founded by the French in 1713 to protect the lucrative cod-fishery on the Grand Banks, and to realize the location’s strategic nautical and military potential, a well-fortified, walled city was constructed on the opposite side of the harbor mouth from the lighthouse. By 1713 the French had been forced to cede most of their land possessions in North America to the British, retaining only the islands (that became) Cape Breton and Price Edward Island. The fortress was besieged in 1745 by the New England army and again in 1758 by the British (having been returned to France by treaty in between). Both times the attackers finally succeeded by landing further south and approaching overland the fortress’s poorly defended rear. After a few years of inhabiting what remained after the second siege, the British destroyed the fortress to discourage its reestablishment and nothing else much occurred on the site until the 1960s. In an effort to give work to local unemployed miners (there had been large coal reserves under this part of Cape Breton) and to develop a tourist attraction, it was decided to reconstruct parts of the fortress as of 1744 using historical records. It was the largest reconstruction project in North America covering more than 16,000 acres and is now run as a National Historic Site with 100 costumed men, women, and children faithfully reenacting the full range of society. As a concession to the visitors, they are allowed to speak in English not just French, but otherwise they appear very authentic and are impressively knowledgeable about their time and place. One wanders around the streets of the town and in and out of the buildings that are open (some are built to complete streets but have not been filled) chatting to the staff and seeing demonstrations of the bakery (we bought a very heavy loaf), blacksmith, lace-making, musket use, etc. There are periodic events such as firing of muskets and a canon, and tours. Despite being driven home by torrential rain when we were participating in an afternoon guided street-tour, we really enjoyed it and would thoroughly recommend a visit.