Battle Harbour Magic

Battle Harbour Magic

 

Battle Harbour, Labrador

 

June 21, 2013

 

 

 

 

I could start every entry with “one of our favorite places” but Battle Harbour is a magical place.  We’ve sat on the rocks and filmed humpback whales feeding almost within touching distance. Had our first kitchen party in one of the restored houses, watched Gannets arrowing into the water to snatch their dinner, stood in the loft where Admiral Peary announced his successful trip to the North Pole, soaked up its history and hiked its trails. 

 

Once known as “The Capital of Labrador” due to its importance to the fishery it’s now a preserved piece of history.

 

“Battle Harbour [has] a reputation of being the most lawless and disorderly place on the whole coast.” Report of Captain Hamilton, H.M.S. Vesuvius, October 1862.

 

 

First settled in the 1750’s it was the economic hub of the cod fishery and kept this status into the twentieth century.

 

“It’s a pretty sight, I assure you, to see this out-of-the-world region so thoroughly alive and stirring as it is in summer, with all these small vessels from different parts filling the bay from head to entrance . . . . Others remain outside flitting about from place to place as occasion may require, all engaged in the same pursuit of fishing for cod.”  W.A. Stearns, Labrador: A sketch of its peoples, its industries and its natural history (1884)

 

Today due to the collapse of the fishery, there are no boats scurrying to and fro and the only fishing work done here is by the lifesized figures standing sentinel.  By the 1960’s cod was declining and the townspeople were re-settled into Mary’s Harbour on the mainland.  It was destined to become another abandoned outport with decaying buildings when the Battle Harbour Historic Trust spearheaded a massive restoration effort.   Houses were turned into B&B’s, the Inn was opened, excellent interpretive displays created and installed and visitors welcomed.

 

We arrived before they were officially welcoming guests for this season but were welcomed anyway.  The Board of Directors was meeting to chart a course for the future and we were able to share our love for this place and get in another Battle Harbour Kitchen Party.

 

 

*Historical photographs property of Battle Harbour Historical Trust

 

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The West Coast

The West Coast

June 20, 2013

Cow Head, Newfoundland

 

Alison's evening yoga studio!

 

There’s a lot of debate about which way to go around Newfoundland.  Due to a shortage of harbors, sailors tend to not like the West side too much. When we went around “The Rock” in 2009, our strategy was to use the more reliable south-west wind to get us up the west side and then harbor hop into those prevailing south westerlies down the east side.

 



Rocks near Codroy

 It worked out well and in the process we came to appreciate what the west has to offer. Viewed from the water the whole island is dramatic with waves throwing themselves against sheer cliffs that plunge to meet them.  On the west side you can add a few stretches of actual beach, some sea caves and cliff formations, and the unique geology around Gros Morne. 

We’ve sailed this stretch 5 times and find plenty to keep us interested and coming back . . .



 

Perched just around the south western corner of Newfoundland, Codroy was our second stop in 2009.  Arriving on the last day of school, our boat was soon hosting a group of local boys eager for what the summer had to offer.  The enclosed harbor was full of fishing boats unloading their catches of halibut and turbot.  Small skiffs arrived and departed with lobster traps.  Families strolled around the wharves and the fish plant was hopping.  The place was on the go.

 

Arriving this year the leaden sky seemed to foreshadow the current state of Codroy.  There was one small fishing boat tied up and just a few skiffs.  Chatting with folks told the tale.  Shrimp were getting scarce. Lobster prices were so low it wasn’t worth the fuel to get them.  Most of the local guys had sold their boats and licenses or just not bothered to put their boats in the last few years. The small general store closed a few months earlier. 

 

We were greeted from porches as we strolled around, chatted with kids at the playground and patronized the only commercial enterprise in town besides the fish plant, The Chip Wagon. Open just a few weeks it was enjoying a great business and the hamburger with fried onions was really good.  The view and chatting with its owner was priceless.

 We couldn't go the summer without a lobster roll!   Lobster from the fish plant and the rolls from the Chip Wagon.

 

And there's always complicated geology to keep you interested.  The dark brown is either a hard clay or a soft rock depending on how you see it.

Hard clay or soft rock?



Picking out lights on a night arrival in a strange harbor can be just a tad stressful.  Motoring into Rocky Harbour at 2am we were glad we’d been here before. Rocky Harbour, at the entrance to Bonne Bay, isn’t particularly rocky as in big pieces of stone but can be rocky from waves.  We found an old chart that called it Roche Harbour and I think over the years it got Anglicized to Rocky.  This very small town is surrounded by Gros Morne National Park so it has the feel of a town catering to tourists.  Gros Morne, a UNESCO world heritage site is home to the second highest peak in Newfoundland and geology that you can’t see anywhere else on earth.  You can hike across the earth’s mantle and view spectacular, land-locked fjords.

We were here to rendezvous with an ordered part and hopefully get some hiking in and knock off a few more of the ever present boat chores.  We’d had the part sent to the only place we could think of, Java Jack’s Restaurant. Java Jack’s is owned by Jackie, a sailor, and offers delectable fare in a great atmosphere featuring local artists’ work on the walls and the speakers. 

No part so boat chores!  The big break-through was Russ figuring out how to hook up our pactor modem. The pactor enables us to send & receive simple e-mails through our single side band radio. It’s not surfing the web but it is communicating!

 

Bakers Brooks Falls

 

 

Still no part so we managed our first epic hike of 2013.  Bakers Brooks Falls, a 9.5 km trail, ended up being around 14 miles roundtrip because we had to get to and from the trailhead!  The torrent of water cascading over the first waterfall was well worth it.  The other 3 waterfalls were bonuses! We passed another couple on their way out but otherwise had the trail to ourselves. 

 

The forest around Gros Morne is boreal pine but the non-native moose are changing that.  Wind and insects shape a boreal forest.  The insects weaken the trees and the wind knocks them down so seedlings can get a start. The moose interrupt this process by eating the seedlings.  Seems they like pine seedlings but not birch.  So the forests are changing over to birch forests.  This trail showed it in dramatic fashion.  We could just see a tall fence where they’re doing a test plot to see if they keep the moose out they can keep the pines.

 

After 3 days of missing wind in the right direction, we’d decided we had to go package or no.  A last breakfast at Java Jack’s and she dashed off to check her post office box.  It came!

 

We set off for Cow Head.  I think they call it cow head because of the shape of the island.  Since the roads came through, town has moved over the causeway to the road side.  We’ve been here before for the Lobster Festival featuring, you guessed it, lobster but also local music and entertainment. 

 

This time we decided to try the Gros Morne Theatre and caught a dinner theatre production of the SS Ethie.  Drama, humor and song tell the story of the coastal steamer Ethie.  Caught out in a December gale that was the worst anyone could remember she was in danger of being bashed on the rocks when her captain made the decision to purposefully beach her. It worked and all on board were saved. It was a great evening and we enjoyed talking with fellow travelers! 

 

Cow Head is also known for its geology and a walk out to the “point of the head” and the lighthouse shows it off. 

 

 

And we got to sit out a bit of a blow!

 

 

Last stop, Port Au Choix.  We weren’t here long this trip but did manage to find the showers and the large Foodland grocery store.  Previous stops we’ve walked out to the National Historic Site.  Hiking the trails takes you by archeological digs delving into the earliest people that camped along this shore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

From here we’ll hope for a clear day and cross over to Labrador. Clear because from here North there’s ice.  Ice reports say, “ one zero zero bergs” in the Straits of Belle Isle. That’s one hundred! 

 

Here's a map of our trip to date:

https://maps.google.ca/maps/ms?msid=209674061295196822166.0004e0396ee8a8998d365&msa=0&ll=48.516604,-56.085205&spn=3.726199,10.821533 

 

 

 

 

 

Stormy Weather

Stormy Weather

Port Manvers Run

August 15, 2011

(I just realized this didn't get posted from our 2011 trip and it's worth the read . . . I think.)

“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.

It's Your Watch

Rocky Harbour, NFL

June 14, 2013

 

“Sweetie?”

“Babe?  It’s your watch.”

“Wha? Huh?  Wha’imesit?”

“It’s 3.”

“’Kay. . . . . . . .  I’ll get up.”

After our longest to date passage on our own boat (Cape May, NJ to Halifax, NS, Canada - 5 days, 10 hours ) we’ve had variations on this exchange countless times. 

At sea, Andante doesn’t stop.  She’s going ‘round the clock which means a part of the human crew has to make sure everything’s running smoothly.  We’ve gotten a routine that works for us based on 3 hour watches. We’ve found that 2 hours is too short a time for the off-watch to get sleep and 4 hours is too long for the on-watch person to stay awake!

We’re a little loose about keeping rigid times during the day but starting late afternoon, Russ will have a rest and I’ll fix dinner.  We eat together at our table with our handy little apple timer set for 10 minute intervals.  Every 10 minutes one of us gets up and has a good look around.  

Then it’s my turn from 9-12.  Russ from 12-3, etc.  Breakfast together and I go down for another nap.  Then we’re usually up together from lunchtime to late afternoon and then we go ‘round again. 

All of this can be interrupted by conditions.  If it’s rough, or a complicated sail change needs to happen, the off-watch person will get called up.  We also let the off-watch person know if we’re going forward of the cockpit.  So those hours of precious sleep can get interrupted.

So what do we do all day out there on the big sea?  Again, totally depends on conditions.  There are days Andante scoots along with never a sail change and it’s a smooth ride.  Then we can do boat chores, exercise, read, knit (that’s me) whatever floats our boat!  You have to take advantage of warm, idyllic days when they come ‘cause it probably won’t last.

And there are other days when you need both hands to hang on.  That’s when you’ll find us eating a one pot meal sitting on the floor at the bottom of the companionway steps because it’s the spot with the least motion!  About all you can do is make sure you eat and drink, and know it’ll soon end. You hope.

But always, we’re sailing the boat. That’s the job and it comes first. Russ is much better about tweaking the sails and playing with everything to get as much speed as possible.  I’m more of a set it and let it go type but working on getting better. After all it means we’ll get to wherever we’re going faster.

We’ve had people ask if we get bored.  Nope.  Fitted in around the sailing and other activities is the endless fascination of the sea.  From chaotic, gun-metal gray waves to deep blue rollers, it never fails to fascinate.  Add a few brilliant sunrises & sunsets, birds swooping & gliding inches off those wavetops, and you’ve got plenty of entertainment!  We haven't seen any whales on this trip but dolphins have accompanied us.

We had our first bird visitor on this last trip. I was sitting in our companionway (our sweet spot when we’re underway and it’s not nice out).  The dodger window was open and this little guy landed right in front of me.  A Canada Warbler, he was 30-50 miles from land and looked exhausted. 

 

A hop onto my shoulder and then he took up residence on Russ’ hat.  Head tucked under wing he took a short catnap, popped his head back out, looked around a bit and took off. We’re going to assume he made it somewhere!

Wishing you all fair winds and following seas!

 

 

 

 

 

The Leak That Launched a Thousand Jobs

June 6, 2013
St. Peter's Canal, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia

You see we had a little drip in one of our cabinets, in a cabinet that we’d like to have as a dry place.  Drip, drip, drip.  Leaks can be amazingly difficult to track down on a boat.  A drop of water gets inside and weaves its way ever downward usually through the most circuitous route imaginable all in an effort to make finding the origin point challenging.  Such was the case with this leak.  We’d think we found the source and bed it with silicone. Next rain, it’d reappear.  After eliminating all other possibilities, the only one remaining was the toerail. 

Andante’s toerail is a beautiful piece of teak that sits on top of the gunwale (that’s basically the top, outermost edge of the boat).  It’s original to the boat and after over 30 years of sanding and general abuse, the screws that hold it together had been exposed.  It was in rough shape. 

What the heck!  It’s fall we’ve got plenty of time to do this job, tackle the few items on our “to do” list and get the boat ready for our May 1 departure date.  First was figuring out how to do the job then removing all the hardware on the old toerail, pry them up, mould the new toerail which is actually 2 pieces of teak screwed together and then attach it to the boat with 5200 and screws.  Nerves stretched tight as we forced the teak to bend to Andante’s shape and used about 50, 3-way furniture clamps to hold it on. 

As long as we had some deck hardware off why not paint the hull?  Andante’s last paint job was 22 years ago just before we bought her.  The clear topcoat applied failed about 10 years ago and we’d been buffing it off in places to the point that up close she looked like a bad skin disease was taking over.  No shiny reflections of the water’s surface here.

A local company, Diversified Marine, agreed to let us do all the prep work and they’d do the actual application in their heated shed. Dan & Mike coached us along as we discovered all of the muscles and tendons of the human arm!  Four weeks of sanding through layers of paint, repairing imperfections inherent in a 35 year old boat and we were ready for the primer coat.  Sand some more and the first of 3 coats of Awlcraft was applied.  Our new color Jade Mist Green.  Our reaction - WOW!

While we were hauled out other projects were handled.  One area of concern was our bobstay.  This is a rod that holds up the bowsprit.  The bobstay goes from the bottom of the bowsprit and attaches to the hull and a wire stay goes from the top and attaches to the top of the mast.  Our worry was if something happened to that top stay the bobstay might not be strong enough to hold up the bowsprit on its own. An outside expert assured us it was plenty strong. 

Back in the water I was attaching that top stay to the outermost part of the bobstay and couldn’t quite get it so Russ stepped out to help.  I’m not sure if there was any sound as the bobstay simply collapsed but our splash into the December chilled water was memorable!  And we had the answer to the question of the bobstay’s strength. That bent piece is the old bobstay. It's supposed to be straight!

Russ did a lot of thinking and figuring and came up a hollow stainless tube.  It’s not as elegant as the original but it is strong!

This brought up the whole question of our standing rigging.  The standing rigging is all of the wire that holds up the mast and we’d been toying with upsizing from ¼” to 9/32.  Again, we’ve got all this hardware off, why not?

The other big conundrum was our anchoring system.  The original arrangement worked great when we were cruising in more benign areas with a combination of chain and rope. But where we’ve been cruising lately, and want to continue to cruise, we wanted all chain.  The trick is that all chain didn’t feed smoothly down into the lowest chain locker.  Someone had to go down, crawl under the bunk and pull it down.  Again not a big deal in most circumstances but if you’re trying to get out of an anchorage that’s suddenly become untenable like say the wind has piped up out of nowhere to 40 knots blowing you on shore, you need one person cranking the anchor and one person at the helm. 

So the idea was to move the anchor windlass back and put a tube through our bunk so the feed to the chain locker would be more vertical.  And we’d need to add in a bulkhead to support the weight of the windlass on deck.  I gotta say I wasn’t too keen on having a pole through our bunk but Russ convinced me that I’d be more likely to get a good night’s sleep if I though we were safely anchored and could get out of said anchorage in a hurry if we had to.  And yes we’ve heard lots of pole dancing jokes!

Again, lots of think time figuring out how to do this and then the actual doing of it.  It’s turned out well and the pole’s not so bad.

Throw in lots of other jobs that came up, some visiting with family and a wonderful last minute visit from my parents and sister (who instead of waving us off got put to work!)   OK 23 days but who’s counting!

and we a few weeks later than planned.

And we’ve proven the Boating Rule of 3’s ~ Every job will take three times as long and lead to three other jobs!

The reason we're trying to leave earlier is we hope to get further down the Labrador than we did in 2011.  We've made an offshore jump from Cape May to Halifax in 6 days and have just locked into the Bras D'or Lakes on Cape Breton. Next stop Port Aux Basques.