Staying with the Turniawans

At Cribbon’s point we were greeted by Epa (Marian’s sister) who courageously picked me and Carlos up. I say courageous, because I am sure we smelled pretty bad. She brought us up to her place, offering us a warm shower. Great gift (probably for her as much as for us)! A bed on land is also a treat! But even when I close my eyes, I feel as though I’m back on the boat and I feel like I’m swaying.

The area here is beautiful (I’ll post some pictures soon). As Carlos described, this is truly an area to own a sail boat. The vast St. George bay is splendid. Cape Breton on one side and the rest of Nova Scotia on the other.

The Turniawan’s home is full of art everywhere. There’s always something interesting to look at. Nancy (Marian’s mom) seems to always be up to interesting art projects at home and in town.

Eating fresh foods, meeting new people and having great conversations, swimming in the salt water...It’s been a nice break to stay with the family here. 

Spinning, drifting and star gazing.

Our last day at Iles de la Madeleine went well. We did some routine work in order ensure that the boat was fit to set sail again.  Once all our work was complete, we went for a walk on a close by beach (see new photos). We checked out the weather forecasts one more time (calling for North East winds), then went to sleep.

The next morning, the forecast had already changed. They were calling for Southerly winds, and a strong wind warning was in effect for the next day. Since we were going to head directly south, a southerly wind (meaning it’s coming from to South and going northbound) would mean we weren’t going to be moving anywhere fast. But the direction of the wind outside contradicted the weather forecast, so we set sail anyways.

This was a sailing day. Out on the water, the sun was shining and the wind was pulling us smoothly through the water right on course to Nova Scotia.

The winds died down by the evening, and at once the stars started coming out, our boat wasn’t being pulled by the wind anymore. There was a current in the water, slowly pulling us in the direction we wanted, however the boat was spinning. We let the current take us.

It all felt really strange. The moon was rising over the waters, a bright orange moon, it looked like it was floating on the water. I had never seen the moon like that. We drifted, looking up at the stars and glancing at the GPS from time to time to ensure that we were going in the right direction.

By morning, the lack of wind meant that we had only moved a few miles during the night, we were still just off the coast of PEI. So we started the outboard engine and motored our way to our destination, namely: Cribbon’s Point.

St.Lawrence history-click on link

http://www.vsr.cape.com/~powens/riverhistory.htm

New Video Section!

Just added a video section. Adding a 'virtual tour' of Atins. Check it out!

A day of land adventures: 40km biking, 4km walking, swimming, capoeira, hitchhiking.

Wake up and the sun is shining. It seems weather around here can vary from hour to hour, so we decide we’ll make use of the day to explore the island. Who knows when we’ll get another sunny day like this.

No car, no rentals nearby, no bikes for rent, no buses. Carlos is adamant that he’ll walk all the way to La Grave (a small quaint touristy town some 8 km away). I’m not up for walking this distance. I stand behind him with my thumb out (hitchhiking is a very common and acceptable practice on the island). Within 15 minutes, a car stops and gives us a lift to La Grave, the driver even gives us a little tour of the place. I could understand only half of what this guy was saying—the accent here is different than anything I have heard in Quebec.

After a delicious meal at Café de La Grave (recommended to us by Eve) we find a place to rent a bike and start cycling up to Cap-Aux-Meules passing a beautiful bay full of kite surfers and windsurfers. There are sand dunes and picturesque beaches. We stop at a beach, go for a swim. Other tourists think we’re crazy, but we’ve been waiting too long to bathe in the ocean water. We come out and play some Capoeira on the beach, again attracting the curiosity of tourists. People start taking out their cameras.

We continue on to Cap-Aux-Meules, grab a drink in a bar where a live band is playing old tunes. The bar is filled with seniors dancing away. Carlos may be old, but not that old, after a quick drink we get out of that place! We start cycling back to La Grave, full of headwind. It’s a tough ride back, and the mountain bikes are in bad shape, along with the riders who have been on a boat for 2 weeks. We finally arrive back at La Grave, it’s already cloudy and starting to rain.

Hitch a ride halfway to our wharf, and walk the last 4 km. Carlos refuses to hitchhike any further. Walking is one of Carlos’ favourite pastimes, so we continue forwards, getting to our boat at 11pm. Lay down and we’re out.

P.S. Today (Monday) we’re preparing the boat to head out tomorrow to Nova Scotia, a 30 hr voyage). Weather seems to be promising for Tuesday and Wednesday.

What a difference a day makes. July 16th.

Nothing like food, sleep and a good shower. We met two kind Nova Scotians offered up a cottage they were renting in order for us to take a shower. This was followed by an ice-cold beer and a homemade stew. They even dried all of our wet gear. We got back to the boat and slept. We must have slept 16 hours straight. Woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and began trying to get the boat back in working order. The damage was less than we thought. The structure (main beam, bulkhead) of the boat hadn’t altered at all. The tensions in the stays were perfect.

We called a diver, who took the line out of the propeller. No damage to the propeller or rudder. Turned on the engine, and all was good.

And we spoke to other sailors who had weathered the rough seas the same morning. All of whom had trusted those far from perfect weather forecasts. One man’s engine stalled and he was unable to call the coast guard since his VHF radio was malfunctioning. He ended up using his dingy to push his boat into the fisherman’s village. It took him a courageous 4 hours just to arrange the dingy in position due to the high waves. Another couple in a much larger ship were overpowered by the weather and called the coast guard for an alternative place to anchor/dock. A third sailboat got seaweed stuck in their engine cooling system. Regardless, they risked running the engine, praying that it would get them to the harbour without overheating, stalling and even causing permanent damage to the engine itself. 

While all of these people went through difficult challenges, it was nice to have someone to share our story with. Accidents happen. Of course, we (re)learned valuable lessons from this experience.  And now, as the sun has finally shown itself, we have gained the required confidence to continue on our trip at least as far as Nova Scotia.

I'd like a word with the weatherman.

         First of all, I’d like to thank Mario for his contributions to this blog. He was truly able to capture some of the most beautiful things we experienced with his words. Thank you for your writing tips. The task of writing updates for the blog falls to me and Carlos. Mario, I hope to be able to come close to the standard you have set.

          Mario, you left me with one other important tip before you left: “make sure the weather forecast is solid before leaving to Ile de la Madeleine”. Perhaps we should have checked more weather sources. At Riviere-Au-Renard, Environment Canada and the Weather Network had called for sunny days for three days straight. Well I wish I could take those forecasters and give them a seat on the boat as we hit a storm of 35 knot winds (approx. 70 km/hr), 3 metre waves hitting us every 3 seconds and light hail.

          Leaving from Riviere-Au-Renard, Carlos and I were well slept, well fed and anxious to make use of the forecasted ‘good weather’ in order to sail the forty-some hours (150 nautical miles) to Ile de La Madeleine in the middle of the St Lawrence Gulf. The plan was to rotate at the helm every 4 hours. We left on the 13^th of July at 11AM.

          Upon leaving Riviere-Au-Renard we were greeted by 2 metre waves every 3 seconds and strong 15 knot winds. Keeping a broad reach on our working jib, Carlos immediately set to work to get his self-steering system in order. His system, nicknamed Brisa, essentially takes control of the tiller and keeps the boat on course regardless of small shifts in wind, and wave/current shifts. Brisa hadn’t proved very successful during earlier attempts in the St. Lawrence, but once we got it started, it worked like a charm. Kept us on course, better than either Carlos or I could do.

           With only a few minor adjustments every 8 hours or so, Brisa kept us going. This allowed us to enjoy the surroundings, sleep, eat, talk. We witnessed dolphins playing in the waves. During the night, not a single hour would go by without dolphins swimming by our boat under the full moon. And in the morning we saw in the distance a huge spout of water. Judging by its distance and the height of these spouts of water, we could only assume that it came from the biggest of all whales; the Blue Whale.

(Mario, you missed out on 50 million!)

            Anyways, the morning of the 14^th we raised the mainsail (we had until that point only been running on the working Jib). With both sails we were making a solid 4 – 6 knots and our ETA was around 4 am the next morning. As the sun set that evening, no land was in sight, the sun turned the water into gold. But clouds ahead were telling us that we were heading towards trouble.

            This should have been a sign to take down the mainsail before the night. In all honesty I think Brisa had created a sense of apathy amongst Carlos and me. Not only that, but according to the forecast, the wind was to die down during the night and only to pick up to 10-15 knots the next morning. Why lose out on our speed and take down the mainsail? In fact, if we had followed this advice given to us by the wise Elizabeth, we would have avoided much of our troubles the next morning.

The winds never died down and by 2AM they were picking up with warnings of squalls (violent gust of wind) on channel 16. Tired, Carlos took his shift while I tried to sleep. But the winds and waves were causing the boat to heel violently. By 4AM as we were approaching Ile de la Madeleine, winds up to 35 knots now (70 km/hr) with squalls hitting us hard. Waves at 3 metres with 3 seconds between each wave. Rain turning into hail. Carlos carried us on. He made the admitted mistake of failing to ‘heave to’ (turning the boat into the headwind) and taking down the mainsail.

Carlos called on me to take over the helm as he tired. The waves were washing the deck by this point. We were only some 8 miles away from Port Aubert when I took over. Our speed up to 7 knots with this wind, the boat continued to heel over violently. Carlos, attempting to sleep, heard noises which he believed could lead to structural damage to the boat and immediately came up to take down the jib. On the mainsail alone, our speed dropped to 1.5-2 knots (2 nautical miles an hour). We still had 3 miles to go. 2 hours in these conditions were going be tough, so we turned on the motor to help our speed. Even then, the boat was still heeling over, bring splashes of icy cold waters over the deck. Next thing we knew, the line we had for the boom preventer (the recently added feature to the boat) fell into the water. Carlos’ second admitted mistake for not keeping the line attached to the boat. Before having enough time to react, the rope caught in the motor’s propeller and stalled the engine.

Waves were too high to position our outboard engine. The risk of losing the outboard engine and support was too great. We decided that the best course of action would be to request a tow from the coast guard. This was a difficult decision for Carlos who has been sailing for forty-five years without ever needing assistance from the coast guard. Within an hour, the red and white boat arrived, gave us a rope and towed us to a small fisherman’s wharf. They refused to take us to our original destination merely 3 miles away. They told us the winds were even worst in that direction, so it was worth going the extra 4 miles to this fisherman’s wharf.

Various people came out to watch our ‘epic’ arrival. We were frustrated, exhausted, disappointed, but relieved as well. After such a solid 46 hours of sailing, so close to our destination, it was sad to have to arrive in this way. We felt that this would the end of our journey. No more Nova Scotia, no more Brazil.