Destination Unknown

I hadn’t realized that my wristwatch was still on Eastern time. After I finished up my last post about coincidences, I realized that I had an hour and a half to make my way to the bus station in Halifax.

Carlos gave me the keys to the boat and I ran down to the dock, untied the dinghy and started the engine. Came up beside Atins moored some 100 metres away, tied up and got on. Quickly grabbed my belongings: 1 duffel bag, 1 big backpack and 1 small day backpack. Threw it on the dinghy and hopped back in.

Before leaving Atins, I held on to her. Thanked her for taking us this far safely. I looked around at the beautiful setting and thanked the universe for the opportunity I had had. Then, I pushed off Atins and motored back to the dock.

Met up with Carlos at the internet café, and said goodbye. It was a pleasure to have had the occasion to really get to know Carlos. Then I had to run out to the Ferry which crossed over to Halifax.

Time ticking. My bags were too heavy, the sun was laughing at the sweater and jeans I was wearing. Waited for the bus which would take me to the Acadian bus station. Stopped at a youth hostel to store the duffel bag which was full of heavy clothes and some foods which I would no longer need. Fifteen minutes left to catch my bus. I ran down. Got my ticket, and sat down in the bus just as it pulled out of the station.

Never got a moment to grab a bite to eat since the granola bar I had in the morning. Ironic, we have enough food in the boat for 20 weeks and I’m now here, writing this blog on the bus, hungry, saddened and excited. Saddened to end the epic sailing trip. Although, I would love to take another sailing trip one day, perhaps down the North American coast Bronwyn? I’m also excited. Excited that I’m sitting on a bus. I haven’t been on a bus in awhile.

I’m heading over to Truro, NS. Here, I’ll meet up with Thomas (Marian’s brother) and drive up to Moncton then to Charlottetown for the weekend before heading to Cape Breton with Marian and some of her friends for a couple days. Then I’ll be back in Halifax to explore the city before I grab a flight back home August 10^th. I’ll spend some time with family and friends, then hopefully by then I’ll have a plan of where to go next.

Carlos has decided to remain undecided about the trip down to Brazil. He’s considering several possibilities for the boat and will be probably sail it down to another Marina around Chester. He’s unsure about whether or not he’ll sell the boat, hire someone to sail it to Brazil, store it for the winter, or sail it to Brazil….

I’ll update this blog on both of our adventures, wherever they take us.

Coincidences?

One thing I was kindly reminded of last night by a new friend: coincidences are not uncommon when traveling. 

As long as you're open to explore new opportunities. In my last post I stated that the adventure came to a close, and I couldn’t be any further from the truth. The adventure never ends.

Coincidences? Was it a coincidence that I had been planning to teach English in Japan, got a contract, then a friend tells me to look further into the nuclear disaster. Doubts on the severity of the radiation began to arise and I questioned whether or not I should pursue my trip to Japan.

Was it a coincidence that in the spring of 2010, while training in Capoeira, Carlos decided to join the academy for a few months (let me remind you that he's 56 years old). We hadn’t seen each other in years. Then he told me about his plans to sail to Brazil (last summer). I told him: if you were only doing this trip when I finish teacher’s college, I would join you in a heartbeat. He told me, he had waited too long, and he was going to Brazil alone.

In the spring 2011, soon after I had doubts about going to Japan, I met up with Carlos at a gathering of family friends. Was it a coincidence that he had delayed his trip one year? Last summer he got up as far as Quebec City then realized that he wasn’t prepared to go to Brazil at that time and would miss the window to travel down.

So I asked if I could join him, never having been on a sail boat in my life! He accepted. I declined my contract for Japan and we began the voyage to Halifax. I gained a lot of experience along the way. Not only in terms of sailing, but through the conversations I had with Carlos and Mario, through the people I met along the way, through the challenges and the delightful moments.

When I had made my decision to stop in Halifax and not pursue the voyage to Brazil, I had many doubts in my mind as to whether or not this was the right decision. If not Brazil, then what would I do for this year that I wanted to take off? Upon arriving in Halifax, I was kindly reminded to be patient, coincidences are endless.

Why did we even choose to come into Halifax when Chester was to be our final stop? Why did we choose to stop at a small Marina we found across from Halifax in the city of Dartmouth? To be honest, I’m not sure how these ideas crept into our minds. I feel like we’re in Inception, and someone came and planted new ideas in our minds.

Anyhow, we stopped at Alderley Marina in Dartmouth. Coincidence? It just so happened that Arcade Fire was to play a show in the stage right next door to the Marina, and we had prime spots out in the water. It just so happened that it was ‘Natal Day’…celebrating the birth of Halifax. Funny, because we were planning to sail to the city of Natal in Brazil; that was to be my final destination. Then while Arcade Fire was playing that evening, I decided to take the dinghy out to get a better view. I also felt like rowing instead of turning on the engine. And while rowing, a group of people on a sail boat asked if I wanted a drink for all my rowing efforts. I tied on to their boat and hopped on and was immediately introduced to an amazing bunch of people. (On a side note: I have only met amazing people out here on the East Coast…I think it’s simply about living close to the ocean). So in their company I listened to the show and had amazing conversations. The beautiful lights from the city of Halifax behind us, and the illuminated MacDonald bridge by our side.

One of the girls on the boat, Lavilla, told me that coincidences are not uncommon while traveling. A truth that many travelers can attest to. She told me about her stay in New Zealand and her plans to return. I had always dreamed of going to New Zealand…who knows! All I can do is to keep my soul open, patiently knowing that the universe will guide me in a new direction through a strange series of coincidences....

For those friends of mine that keep asking me why I travel so much. It’s for this. It’s for these moments, these coincidences. It’s for the random people you meet along the way. Amazing people everywhere. It’s for the adventures you have. It’s for the lessons you learn. It’s for getting lost then finding your way. It's because I am most alive while traveling and I can’t get enough of it! 

New photos added to the blog!

Check out the photos section (link is at the top of the page) to see the new albums I just added to the blog!

The adventure comes to a close

I have decided not to go on sailing to Brazil. My reasons for not wanting to continue South are varied. I had many long conversations with several people who helped guide me in my decision. To be clear, I am not making this decision because I fear that something will go wrong during the trip. If anything, this trip to Halifax has assured me that this boat (and myself) could handle the worst of storms. However, there are other factors which I hadn't previously taken into enough consideration, namely, boredom, food, weather and what I was hoping to gain out of the trip.

1)      Boredom: The stars at night are beautiful and so are the sunrises and sunsets as well as all the wildlife…but regardless you feel every hour pass by. There’s only so much reading and music listening I can do. I get antsy, I want to move! While coastal sailing is fun and a good mixture of land and sea, crossing the ocean by boat for 6 weeks would be too much for me.

2)      Food: I was getting tired of our canned food after only a week of it, partly because the swaying of the boat was also making me a bit queasy.

3)      Weather: while people back in Toronto enjoyed a heat wave, most evenings I’ve had to wear a hat and gloves. Sailing is much more enjoyable on the hot days and evenings that we got. I can’t imagine leaving in November for Brazil.

4)      What I hoped to gain: I have no idea what I really hoped to gain from this trip. I was thinking of be able to meditate, think about where I would go with my life, but alas, I have been able to do a lot of that thinking on this ride to Halifax! I think, I would think so much on trip to Brazil that I'd go mad!

Blind sailing and swimming with Jellies

Liscomb was quite the adventure. As we approached Liscomb it was midnight, pitch black due to the cloudy skies. We decided to anchor at a place called Smith Bay. Our GPS indicated a spot which was 5 metres deep in this little bay. Our guide book also suggested that this was an appropriate place to anchor.

Relying completely on the compass and the GPS I approached the tight area while Carlos kept an eye out. In some areas we had only some 100 metres to manoeuvre in with rocks on either side, wind howling and waves pushing us to and fro. I kept my focus, got us into the bay and Carlos set the anchor.

The next morning, we awoke to surrounding by small black buoys. We had unknowingly trampled through an entire fish farm on our way in. To make matters worse, our anchor was stuck, no amount of tugging was going to pull it up. It had caught on something, seemed like a cable. So, I put on my swimming shorts and a mask and got into the chilly waters in order to detach the anchor. Careful to avoid the couple of jellyfish that were watching my progress. After a few minutes, the job was done and the anchor was free.

We had to re-cross the fish farms on our way out, trying to be as careful as we could. Then made our way to Halifax.

To Canso

Our leave of Cribbon’s point came with sunshine and light winds. We made our way to the Canso Causeway. This small waterway which separates Cape Breton from the rest of Nova Scotia reminded me of the banks in the St Lawrence.

We made our way down to the lock which adjusts for the change in water level between St. George Bay and the Bay on the other side of the strait (I can’t remember the name right now). The lock had a strong current and nearly pulled out boat to metal doors at the other end. Once the doors opened, a swivel bridge turned, temporarily stopping land traffic while we passed through.

We pushed forwards arriving at the town of Canso late at night. The town was beautiful at night. Because of the many hazards to make your way to the town’s harbour, there are white, red and green lights softly flashing everywhere. We anchored under the starry sky and went to sleep.

The next morning we were greeted by three sails who stuck their heads up some 20 metres away, curious to know what we were doing there. After grabbing some supplies at Canso (thanks to Gus who let us borrow his pickup), we began our trek to Liscomb.

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.

Day 8 - Reflections

Mildly fatigued and Sleep deprived i feel surprisingly refreshed and inspired as my journey with Crew Atins comes to a conclusion.

As the taxi carefully drives along the winding coastal road to Gaspe airport I find myself reflecting on this amazing metaphysical journey, that unexpectedly affected me even more deeply then the incredibly beautiful and spectacular surroundings of the st. Lawrence.

During the brief drive overlooking the sun rise above the pine coated mountains with beautiful homes sparsely populating the valleys along the cove, the sun rises behind the mountains which are partially obscured by fog exposing only their heads as if awakening, my mind drifts as i get lost in the surrounding beauty and I can not help but remember a brief discussion i had with Derek hatfield as he prepared for his vende globe challange around the world. I recall referring to him as crazy and he swiftly replied by explaining it wasn't craziness that drives his desire to solo sail around the world, and graciously offered to someday share a drink with me to explain . I never got the opportunity to share that drink but i now believe i understand that indeed it isn't craziness at all.

Putting yourself in the hands of natures hard grasp and the perseverance required to overcome the hardships when the grip tightens forcing you to push yourself beyond previously established limits has a unique way of inspiring growth as you face your fears head on with determination setting fear confidently aside. I get it now, but do not think it something that can be expressed in words and must be experienced.

Thank you and Bon voyage Crew Atins

Introducing the Atins crew

Introducing the crew of Atins.

This is the Atins crew: Carlos (AKA: Vovo or grandpa), Mario (AKA: the poet) and Philippe (AKA: the chick magnet)

Day 4 iles de Bic

We woke up to beautiful surroundings, the same surroundings displayed on the chart plotter which we needed to avoid the night before in total darkness and fog, we now stare and admire with our own eyes in the light of a new bright sunny day. The disturbances are now gone and the sky is blue with strong winds from the south west as we lay at anchor preparing to depart. Our goal is ambitious to reach Matane before sunrise the next morning. In preparation for the long haul the engine oil and spark plugs are changed and we review the navigation strategy. The plan is to run with the wind using the G2 foresail and shortly we prepare to retrieve the anchor against heavy seas. Working together we found the strength to raise the 40 lb anchor heaving on the rode and chain until the anchor was safely on deck and secured. We motor out under power to overcome the stiff winds and seas as though they do not want us to leave. Finally as we clear the islets surrounding us we raise the sail and cut the enging heading a few miles off the south shore running north east with the wind on our backs filling the fore sail. It didn't take long to realize the combination of tall 2 meter seas and stiff 15 knot winds was a little too much for the sail area and the decision was made to reduce sail to our loyal working jib which is now showing minor signs of battle fatigue along with the crew. Sailing towards Rimouski a few hours away we work to master the helm concentrating heavily to keep both sea and wind directly behind us. With better control under reduced sail, heavy Pitching and rolling was our indicator that concentration was lost and helm adjustment was warranted. Now passing the large river edge town of Rimouski our feeling for the helm became one with the seas and wind, as we look forward to the long leg ahead to Matane, which we anticipate will be reached after sun raise the next morning. Dressed for the cool breeze we manage to enjoy the clear view (whatt a difference a day makes) of the rivers edge, appreciating the warmth of the sun on our faces right up until the sun set on our port side which illuminates the western horizon With bright shades of orange. As the night grew darker the stars progressively filled the sky, and we look back only to admire the large bright orange half moon low in the horizon overlooking our progress before resting below the horizon. The constellations are apparent here, even though we do not recognize any, we see images of animals outlined by the brighter stars in the sky. Alternating at the helm we use a bright green flashing navigation light far into the distant marking our destination, which we use to assist us in keeping the wind behind us as we enjoy the coastal lights to our starboard side. I awake from a few hours rest to a beautiful sun now bursting out of the horizon in front of our bow as we near Matane And take the helm to complete the last few hours of the leg before tieing to a well maintained dock in the large commercial port of Matane at 7.30 am of day 5.

Follow our trip: http://philbrazil.blogspot.com

Take Care, Mario
Sent from my mobile device

Day 3 port de gros cacauna

> Waking up to a stiff breeze at anchor after catching up on some sleep we left port around 1pm with overcast skies and favorable marine forecast of 10 to 15 knot NW winds with 40% chance of showers, we agreed that it was best to make use of the winds we have been anxiously waiting for to make up some ground. The tide current is weakening as the mouth of the st Lawrence widens there is a noticeable drop in air and water temperature. As we set out several weather disturbances are surrounding us and the seas resemble a stucco ceiling, with short tall wavelets. It did not take long to spot 10 to 15 belugas swimming in very close proximity to the boat which we failed to recognize as a warning, before soldiering on to our next planned destination the iles de Bic. The winds and mild current working against us we battled strong east winds and waves in a light mist and fog. Keeping a close watch on the electronics for other vessels we heeded the squall warning and prepared for hard foul weather, which did not take long to arrive. Thankfully we were lucky to avoid the squall and sailed forward close hauled with double reef in the main sail to our distant destination. As the hours grew longer we alternated turns at the helm to allow the other to rest for the long journey ahead. As evening turned to darkness with little progress under sail, the decision was made to motor sail navigating only by chart plotter as the navigation lights reflected confidently into the black surroundings and dense fog leading us for over 8 hours into the darkness with heavy rain falling on us for most of the journey. Finally as we near ile du Bic we start to plan and discuss the anchorage navigating by electronics around islets to our overnight resting destination at 3am where we shared a modest dinner of caned tuna sardines and fruit before going to bed.
>
Written by Mario

Day 2

After only a few hours of sleep we woke up excited to make the next 9am high tide departure from our anchorage across the les pillars de Pierre rock shallows. As the hours passed we endured light winds, short segment of rapids, and sunny skies as the current drove us slowly eastward to our next planned afternoon destination just inside the south channel marine park sanctuary where we where greeted by many white backs (beluga whales) upon entry which surrounded the boat in the distance.  Finally arriving at the bank de ille aux lieves towards the end of the late afternoon low tide cycle, where rather then anchor as planned,  we decided to contine to drift slowly as we waited for the early evening high tide to carry us forward. After several hours of drifting and enjoying the picturesque north shore hill scapes as the setting sun turned the dusk skies shades of purple behind them before setting and illuminating the orange crescent moon just above the horizon. As the high tide cycle approached the currents drove us towards our next overnight anchorage a mile past the brightly lit city of Rivière du loop, where we motored inside the protection of port de gros  cacauna  break walls to drop anchor at 12.30 am.

Written by Mario

Night 1 / Day 2 update

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>> After a peaceful rest and modest canned soup dinner shared between us we departed our afternoon low tide anchorage at Berthier sur Mer under sail as the sun set at 9 pm to take the high tide current on route to our next anchorage just south of saint jean port jolie in the shallows across les pillars de Pierre rocks. After braving the rough seas and strong winds, enjoying the star lit sky, and sky streaks which we believe were earths magnetic field interacting with cosmic rays, we arrived safely under motor and set the anchor at 3.30 am for some welcomed rest waiting for the next high tide cycle at 9 am

Written by:
Mario

Where am I?

Follow my location via google maps (see the link on the right) or click here:

http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=210670865851188222864.0004a7340810c8aff0d95&msa=0&ll=47.960502,-68.302002&spn=3.023557,7.064209