Yarmouth to Cape Negro

Yarmouth

Having read the cruising book, it was no surprise to me that Yarmouth is a working fishing village. Commercial fishing. There are huge ships in the harbour and all of 3 cruising yachts including Salty Ginger. Of course when we arrived we couldn’t see much around us and in the evening the Dutch-flagged vessel disappeared in the fog.

As soon as we were done with formalities we went on a stroll along Main Street. We saw a few shops, a pharmacy and a few banks. Anton guided us to the Heritage District which sounds all impressive, and does have a few pretty houses, but it’s half the length of a New York block. It’s a bizarre mixture of rundown and pretty houses. We ended up in a brewery and sat down to taste the local beer. That entire walk took maybe half hour and we have seen all that Yarmouth “downtown” had to offer.

At some point a guy asked us if we wanted pointers for what to see. Sure, why not. He described a really long way to the lighthouse on the other side of the bay. “There are great views from there!” But it’s foggy! “Well, that makes it a little less interesting,” acknowledged our self-selected guide. “But there is a park. You walk straight, when you see a McDonald’s, turn right. It’s very pretty.” Ultimately we did not follow the advice, and maybe that would have completely changed our perception of the town.

The waitress in the restaurant questioned us about where we were from, and upon hearing that our birth places included Egypt, Slovakia, Russia and Canada, proudly said “Oh, I’m Polish!” Over the course of the evening she would periodically come to the table to check on us and tell us a joke. Something along the line of “How are security guards called at Samsung?” “Guardians of the Galaxy.”

Everybody was tired after the passage, so everyone went to bed early.

In the morning, as I was on the way to the marina bathroom to take a shower, I saw firetrucks and police on the corner of the building. The corner of the building was being torn apart. Turned out a driver blacked out and narrowly missing the fire hydrant and a tree rammed into the building. That brought down the water and electricity, so my plans for shower had to be changed: boat shower would do.

Our plan was to depart so that we could catch the tidal currents around Cape Sable, therefore everyone could take it easy in the morning. I cooked borsch after a quick stroll, bought some beer at the brewery for us to sample later, and after lunch we cast off. The forecast for the fog to be lifted did not come true. But this time we could see 3 buoys in the channel as opposed to only one the day before.

Schooner passage

The cruising guide describes the sail between the islands as a recommended scenic route. We were skeptical that we could see anything at all because outside of the harbor the visibility was again reduced to 100-200 meters. Scenic views be damned. Luckily we seemed to be totally alone.

As we were getting close to the passage, the current was clearly favorable. A knot or so, but that’s better than having it against us. And then we saw the outlines of one island, and it wasn’t totally covered in fog! And then another island and one more. We couldn’t see all the islands at the same time, but the dramatic views in the fog made up for it.

And the current between the island added 3.5 knots to our speed! We were flying! And for a while the wind was perfect to keep us on course, close-hauled. But after half hour the wind died down and shifted, so we were forced to motor yet again. The current kept building and as expected at its maximum towards Cape Sable we had 2.5 knots helping us.

Around Cape Sable

But that help came with a price: it became rather bumpy with the ocean waves and wind hitting the outgoing current. Leo, who also refused to have a proper lunch, was seasick once again. He was sleeping in the cockpit, but the back and forth made him throw up whatever little food he had left in his tummy. We all felt bad, and the only thing we could do was to get out of these conditions by rounding the cape.

Indeed, the state of the sea changed quite a bit as we went around the shoals. Not that it helped Leo to be active again, but at least he didn’t look as miserable as he did just minutes before.

One thing that’s certain: it was cold. For a brief moment we enjoyed the warm breeze coming off the islands in the Schooner passage, but now that we were exposed to the Atlantic waters, the wind was cold. The lowest water temperature we saw was 8.6C!

The wind was now behind us, so the mainsail was no longer helping and we rolled it into the mast. But what if we set the spinnaker? After all there is some 5 knots of wind in our back. It kind of worked. As soon a the true wind would be above 10 knots, the spinnaker would fill and help the engine to bring the boat speed by a few tenths of a knot. That also didn’t last long because the wind speed fell and that was the end of our motor sailing with a spinnaker. “You’re too much,” said Frank as he observed what was going on.

While Viktor and I tried to ensure that we don’t hit rocks or buoys (still invisible in that damn fog), Frank reheated the rest of the chili, cooked some rice and we hat hot food. A very much welcome thing when it’s cold and wet all around.

In the cove

Right as the dusk was turning into pitch-black night we pulled into a bight behind the Cape Negro island and dropped the anchor. It caught right away. We were alone and we couldn’t see anything. Only fog.

Anton moved Leo into the cabin, where the exhausted boy continued to sleep. The four of us sampled the Nova Scotia brewed beer and chatted until past 11. The entertainment that we received were bats that were flying around the boat. At first we thought that they were birds, because they were making sounds which kind of reminded of lemur animations. In the morning Anton found a dead one lying on the back of the boat, so now we know for sure.

Fishing has been a disappointment so far. Jellyfish were the only creatures that we have seen in the water so far. Maybe we’ll have better luck later today.