Month: September 2019

We motored then sailed out of Harbour Round and began our rounding of Cape St. John. Just like so much of this trip, the geography along here is stunning. With nothing but the open Atlantic to one side, it’s easy to imagine the pounding these prominences take in a big storm.

 

As usual, the wind predictions were less than accurate, so we ended up going from a grand easy sail, to zero wind that rapidly shifted to huge gusts, to a tough wind on the forward quarter once we rounded the cape that rapidly built an ugly sea. Yup … it was another one of those hard (motor) sailin’ days. Good thing we had Barnacle Annie at the helm 🙂 .

 

 

We’d now entered Notre Dame Bay, the place we will call home for at least the next few seasons.

 

We’d read in the cruising guide that the season here usually ends in late August. The weather here on the east side of Newfoundland increasingly takes on harsher tones as you head into the Fall — something we were beginning to get a sense of as another Newfoundland gale (not a hurricane — not yet 😯 ) was heading our way.

Luckily the wind and seas allowed us to enter Little Bay Islands with its two protected bays. Naturally we chose the less populated one, which is kinda unfortunate because later we learned the village of Little Bay Islands was the latest one to be resettled by the Newfoundland government. This time next year the outport that has existed for hundreds of years will be no more. Sad…

After another long hard sailing day Little Bay Islands was a welcome respite. We sailed in, all salt-encrusted once again, and looked for a good spot to anchor. Unfortunately the best spot was already occupied by a mooring ball, making it all but impossible to anchor. Fortunately the ball had this sign on it:

We both much prefer to use our own anchor gear. One never knows what a mooring is made of, but this one seemed stout. Still, with only one line attaching us, I was a bit nervous. So much to the amusement of Annnnneeeeeeee, I proceeded to tie additional lines and rolling hitches to the mooring pennant (line).

       

It was another beautiful spot. While waiting out the gale we were entertained by eagles, loons and a gorgeous fox that trotted nearby on shore. It had the colouring of Hammi (our former cat, now Mom/Kathy’s), with blacks and ruddy red browns. Unfortunately it’s hard to see in the pics .

A couple of days later the wind gods opened up a space for us to make another hop. By then we’d started to hear rumours of a serious blow heading our way — something called “Dorian”. We both thought it the better part of valour to be tied to the dock in Lewisporte when this monster hit, so we headed out to Fortune Harbour, which had a nice ring to it.

As we headed along we spotted a distant dolphin pack (school? gaggle? clutch?). We’d seen quite a few dolphins along the way now, and they’re always wonderful to watch. But this group was leaping high into the air, seeming to be just loving life:

Then, after a short while they seemed to notice us, and the whole group swam over and began swimming right beside us,

and even under us. What a treat — and a privilege.

 

And speaking about amazing wildlife, I’ve neglected to say enough about the gannets. These birds were constant companions for much of our journey, and utterly fascinating to watch. They look a bit like very large sea gulls, but with very sharp yellowish bills, and striking black tips on their wings. But what is truly amazing is how they fish.

They dive from massive heights, spearing into the water at very high speeds. It’s incredible.

 

Fortune Harbour is actually on a peninsula of the mainland. So unlike Little Bay Islands, it has a road connection to the rest of the province. Our anchorage took us down one of the arms of the harbour, past a funky looking mussel farm , ending up quite close to the road. It was odd hearing fast moving traffic after so many weeks of nothing but wind, seas, and the occasional motor boat (dory). But as with every place we’d been, this too is a beautiful spot.

Once again we were hiding from another near-gale, so planned to be there for a few days. The day before the big blow it turned warm — so hot that Ann got into her summer dress. The ensemble worked well when fitted with funny socks and big work gloves:

 

 

By now our weather router Donna Boh Bonna had been warning of this little thing called Dorian. We finally got good Internet coverage here in Fortune Harbour, so looked it up.

Yup … looked bad. We had to get to Lewisporte before it hit.

We weathered this latest storm, and then pulled up anchor for one more sail down into the bay where Lewisporte is located. Much like the testing we got while approaching Corner Brook, Newfoundland’s gods decided to make sure we were still worthy. The day went from big wind and seas, down to lighter winds, and finally back up to gale-force just as we got close to Lewisporte.

Instead of trying to enter a strange marina in 35 knot winds, we chose to anchor one mile north in behind an island. As we approached the spot I started to see what looked like very shallow (and hence very scary) uncharted rocks. Turns out they weren’t rock. They were plumes of jellyfish!

   

We were completely surrounded!!!

 

We spent one last wonderful afternoon and night swinging from our own anchor, and then headed into the big town of Lewisporte. We arrived with just enough time to get settled into our slip, and get the boat all ready for the coming hurricane.

 

 

We prepared well, and survived just fine. One nearby boat did almost lose their foresail though (and perhaps their mast) when a part of it started to unravel in the wind. Luckily a bunch of us got there quickly and were able to get it under control.

 

 

 

 

We were lucky with Dorian. It was a mere post-tropical storm by the time it hit us. Even still, the winds were ferocious, and the seas in open water would have been massive. I was glad to be securely tied up in our new home.

With the journey’s end we’ve now been working on taking our little floating home apart for winter. It’s always a sad time of year, but necessary. And we know we’ll return next season with plans to explore the immediate surrounds: “Fogo, Twillingate, Moreton’s Harbour, All around the Circle…” 

 

Heading out of St. Lunaire we were greeted with a whale display straight out of National Geographic. At least two, perhaps more, large humpback whales were leaping into the air not more than 500 metres from us. They’d lunge straight up, then come crashing back with a great splash. Then they would seem to swim along on their sides or back, waving their massive fins in the air, as if to say hi.

  

 

 

There are no words to adequately describe it all…

We carried on south, pushed along by the will of Boreas and the power of Perkins. The scenery along this coast continues to amaze. I’m sure a geologist would have a tale to tell of the differing rock structures, going from granite to some form of reddish, gnarly metamorphic sedimentary. Too cool.

We motor-sailed through the whole day and surfed our way into Canada Bay by late afternoon. There is the community of Englee here, but as usual, we sought the solitude of our own anchor in nearby Wild Cove, which was the perfect tuck in to protect us from the coming high winds.

The following day while making lunch Melvin motored over from his nearby cabin. We had anchored not far off his moored motorboat. He came over to have a yarn, and to say what a lovely sight our boat was to him. We chatted and he then told us his place was wide open and that we were welcome to go stay there, take a shower and replenish our water if needed.

There are no people kinder and more generous than Newfoundlanders 🙂 .

Unfortunately the weather that was shaping up to turned into a true Newfoundland Gale! Winds were now predicted to be 35 knots from the wrong direction, with seas building to 4 metres (which is an average, meaning 8 metres is not uncommon). Way too much for us chicken sailors 😳 . But it also meant we had to move anchorage as Wild Cove was going to be open to the coming worst.

We woke to thick fog, which luckily lifted enough to see our way out. We then made our way north a short distance to another small bay which appeared to offer better protection from the coming blow. Along the way we saw a seal and at least one minke whale.

 

Tucked into yet another stunningly beautiful anchorage, we waited for the next weather window to open up so we could either sail further south, or go more directly on our route across White Bay. As it turned out, we had to wait a few days, but the holding was good and the scenery was spectacular. 

After three days we hauled anchor and headed out of Canada Bay and back into the blue yonder. The scenery continued to be stunning, and we even caught sight of Wade’s Coast Guard cutter, the Pennant Bay. It was a good sailing day, but as is so often the case, the wind and seas dictated that we travel more south, rather than directly on our route.

 

We arrived outside of Orange Bay. Winds were still pretty high, but crew-Annnneeeeee got the sails down like the old salty seahorse that she is. Then we motored deep into the bay towards what looked like a promising spot.

 

The bay was a long way in, and was a bit tricky to navigate to given the shallow waters and our poor charts, but it was beautiful and calm once inside. It had no name on the charts, so we just called it “Our Shangri-La.”

   

There were tons of gulls and terns around, along with bald eagles, dragon flies and loons!

 

We stayed nestled in our little Shangri-La for a few days. We relaxed and read , we cooked yummy meals , and enjoyed our fine boxed wine . We were waiting for the next weather window so we could travel across White Bay and make some headway along the final large peninsula that would take us around Cape St. John and into Notre Dame Bay. We got the right forecast, hauled up anchor and headed out.

… but as is so often the case, the forecast and reality seemed to disagree. And as we all know, reality always wins 🙁 .

We left our Shangri-La and sailed into unforecasted thick fog and high winds and seas. This turned our easy sail into a hard-fought slog. We managed to work our way across the 15 nautical miles of open water, and eventually made the headland which only came into sight when we were within a 1/4 mile.

We’d already planned to bypass the first bay because out charts lacked any detail, but given the growing sea state, we chose to risk entering uncharted waters rather than carry on. It was the right choice.

Fleur de Lys turned out to be a lovely safe anchorage. We dropped the hook just out of the fairway not far from the village wharf. And then we proceeded to recover and dry off from our rather challenging and wet crossing. Ann’s shoes had got soaked, and soon became rather aromatic.

          

We stayed in Fleur de Lys harbour for a couple more days to once more wait for a decent weather window to move us along. Shortly after we arrived another sailboat came in. This was the first time we’d shared an anchorage since leaving Corner Brook. Heck, this was the first pleasure boat we’d seen (outside of Wade’s in St. Lunaire).

Oceanus was carrying a couple, and their small dog. They’d sailed all the way from Toronto and seemed to have had a much harder time than us. Their main engine died almost before they left. They fitted an outboard on the back, which got ripped off their stern in the Strait of Belle Isle. Their boat is smaller than ours. They had come a lot further, and were planning to go beyond our destination of Lewisporte. I hope they made out OK…

Just as we were getting ready to leave Fleur de Lys a dory came over with two guys in it. They pulled up and asked if we wanted some cod which they had just caught. “Do we ever!” So we set sail knowing that evening’s dinner would include fresh cod!!

 

We headed out of the harbour and made our way to Harbour Round, which is not to be confused with Round Harbour — a different harbour not far away. The sail there turned out to be one of the nicest ones we’d had in a while.

 

True to its name, Harbour Round is a small roundish harbour surrounded by a fishing village. We dropped anchor out of everyone’s way, and settled in for a good feed of cod and cabbage-caesar salad. Yum! This was our final anchorage before rounding Cape St. John and entering Notre Dame Bay.

This cape, like most others, is not to be taken lightly. Winds and seas love capes. So we studied the forecasts and relied on our expert weather router Donna salty-paws Phillips to plan our next move.