Stormy Weather
Port Manvers Run
August 15, 2011
“Where are we going and when are we going to get there?” Even though we were laying to two anchors, Russ could be forgiven for asking that question. Sitting down to dinner, Andante was gyrating and pulsing like she was underway in rough seas. We’d been warned that come the middle of August, weather systems up here turn into their fall mode. The prophecies were being fulfilled.
The problem earlier in the summer north of Nain isn’t too much wind, it’s not enough.
In anticipation of motoring, we filled up our diesel tanks, the usual four, 5 gallon jerry cans we keep in the cockpit and picked up 6 more 5.3 gallon (20 litre) jerry cans. Every port on the Labrador, fuel gets more expensive as you go north. Our final top off in Nain was $135 for 4 jerry cans (21.2 gallons which is roughly $6.37 CAN/gallon or $1.69/litre CAN. Current exchange rates have the Canadian dollar worth a bit more than the US dollar so it cost us a tad more than $6.37/gal US). (August 2011).
In general we’ve found that weather systems come through fast and speed up as the sailing season progresses. Earlier in the summer forecasts are filled with “winds light and variable, “ “wind 10-15” etc. A typical sailing scenario may look like this:
Wind! Get the main up and the jenny out. Turn engine off. Ahh! The sound of water rushing by the hull. Enjoy for 15 minutes. Wind goes light. Wind dies. Furl jib. Double reef main and tie it amidships to act as a steadying sail. Turn engine on. Motor for an hour. Wind comes up again. Get main & jenny up. Turn engine off. . . . repeat. Throw in a few wind shifts in there and you get the idea.
As mid-August approaches the systems march across faster and pack a punch with more forecasts saying 25+ knots gusting to 30-35.
Getting a weather forecast can be a tad difficult. Once we left Port Manvers Run, just north of Nain, we couldn’t get any VHF weather. Often, tucked up anywhere in Newfoundland or Labrador it can be impossible to get a VHF broadcast due to the mountains.
Canadian Coast Guard broadcasts weather on single side band (up here the fisherman call it “the big radio”) several times a day. Frequency 2598 at 0705, 1137, 1737 and 2237 northern Labrador time (this is a ½ hour behind Newfoundland/Labrador time or the same time as Halifax, Nova Scotia).
We also downloaded weather fax on Freq. 12748.1 at 1237 Labrador time. The ipad justified its place on board when Russ downloaded an app that translates weather faxes. It worked really well.
All the talk about motoring aside, we couldn’t let Debbie leave without a little weather event. A gale was forecast when we were in Okak and we scurried for cover.
Did I mention that when you do get a forecast it doesn’t necessarily play out as predicted? Well this gale didn’t. It was supposed to arrive overnight and be gone the next day. Andante leaned into a few gusts but nothing bad at all. Next day we headed out into some strong winds and they started shifting to the direction we wanted to go, a great sailing day.
Part of what’s challenging about sailing up here is a lack of good harbors. What can look like a snug anchorage on the chart turns out to be a mile wide. The scale is just hard to get your perspective around. The best looking spot around was Dawes Harbour on Kikiktaksoak Island. The Cruising Guide to Labrador has a lovely picture on the cover of people walking on shore, sun shining, with the placid harbor in the background. Beating with the wind shift to get in, we knew we were not in that place even though we were in the same location!
By the time we got there, waves were breaking on the ledges at the entrance and all of the water in the cove was heaving up and down. Tucked into a corner using 2 anchors to hold us in place kept us out of the worst of the swell. The heart stopping view out of our companionway filled with waves crashing against rocks behind us, and Hannah bucking along beside us.
For the first time on the trip we set anchor watches as the winds picked up. This was a good 24 hours after the gale was predicted to come through. No one got much sleep as the boats rocked around and we kept a keen eye on the rocks just off our stern and the rocks off our starboard side. It felt like we were anchored close enough to shore that a bear could’ve stepped on board.
Leaving was . . . interesting but we needed to get out before the wind shifted around and made this anchorage truly dangerous. Engine on and mainsail up we took aim at the clearer water between ledges. Green water hit rock with cataclysmic results as Andante bucked her way out. Hannah had been in there too and we talked about what it would’ve been like if during the night it’d piped up just a bit more, the water had risen over the entrance ledges to pour full force into the harbour and how we could’ve gotten out.
We’d been hoping to explore some new anchorages on the middle route to Nain but after no sleep, lumpy seas and motor sailing just to make a course, the protected waters of Port Manvers Run were looking awfully good. Unfortunately the entrance was not.
One of the hardest things to do in sailing is to pass up a safe harbor because the entrance is too dicey. You’re tired, calm waters beckon. It’s a siren song. Three weeks earlier we’d come out of this entrance on a calm day with not a worry. Now, Willis Rocks guarding the entrance were a maelstrom of waves. When water met rock, cascading rooster tails were thrown up. Approaching from the North there didn’t seem to be a safe way in.
Deciding to keep going we kept looking at the entrance. Once south of the rocks, a passage opened up. Staying close to the cliff on the southern side Russ steered us in. I’m glad my job was to keep an eye on the depth and chart plotter because I didn’t have much chance to look around. Debbie said it was quite impressive and I think it gave us all a few dreams that night.
We anchored at the first available spot and let our heart rates get back to normal.
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