Reminiscing

Where I am now is a rather awful place to think back about the trip. I’m in a soleless Quality Inn close to Halifax International airport. I had a late lunch which is edible, but not really enjoyable (should I skip dinner?). There is a tiny pool outside from where one can hear the highway 102, there is AC noise, and most importantly, there is no good way to get out of here except by car or with the hotel shuttle to the airport. Quite a contrast to my life since the end of June (Katya was spot on when she was booking a hotel!).

I did go to the nearby aviation museum. It’s small, but has a lot of airplanes. And there I did see the mention of Alexander Graham Bell and Baddeck. Of course, how could he be omitted! There is also a replica of his aerodrome (airplane) that he helped design and a model of his HD-4 hydrofoiling watercraft. The museum in Baddeck is more interesting, because it tells a story as opposed to displaying a bunch of artefacts and adding a few disconnected stories about some of them.

I don’t have the energy to take the bus to the city and then back, having already spent 3.5 hours on the bus getting here. So, I will stop complaining about the surroundings and simply look back on the experiences of this summer.

Leaving a clean boat

We spent a huge part of the day yesterday cleaning up. Alina and Andres helped to wash the deck, we got so much grime removed from all over! Then I realized that it is quite possible I will not be using the anchor, and it has seen a lot of muddy bottom, so we put it all into the water, washed out the compartment, Andres went in to remove rocks, sticks and whatever other debris, and then put the anchor back into the locker. We started with a couple of centimeters of mud on the bottom and ended up with a pretty much pristine anchor locker.

While all of that was going on, Julia and Anya were doing laundry. Diego went to refill the propane tanks. Before we left the dock to go back to the mooring, the kids helped me fold the foresail to reduce any potential windage, since a hurricane is forecast to brush by St Peter’s on Monday, and it is quite possible that more will come in the next month.

At the mooring we got to cleaning up the inside, pickling the desalinator so that it can survive the next month, and finally cooking dinner. Andres was so tired that he needed a nap before dinner.

The morning started with the final clean up touches. Fold down the Bimini and the dodger. Unfortunately a 10 minute rain interfered with drying of the two after the overnight rain. The fridges were wiped. All clothing packed, so I took the kids and the dog to the dog, came back, packed the motor and then rowed ashore with Julia and Diego.

We thought we were almost running late, but the bus doesn’t have the Swiss punctuality, so we ended up chatting for at least quarter hour on a gas station on the outskirts of Port Hawkesbury. I definitely don’t get the public transport in Nova Scotia.

Why go north?

I discussed this question with a few people: why not a warmer climate? Truth be told, especially in Bras d’Or Lake it was plenty warm, and the water was a lot warmer than I expected. But there is something special and appealing about the northern nature. Maybe it’s calling me because I grew up on the 55th parallel. I enjoy the long summer days, I like the forests, I love the fact that I don’t need to run the AC and can sleep comfortably.

This year’s adventures were very special and unforgettable. Every crew on Salty Ginger got different surprises from the nature of Nova Scotia. Fog, sun, marine life, fishing.  Despite the difficulty of getting here (and back) I can’t think of a better place I could have cruised for a month and a half. Thank you, Nova Scotia!

Do I want to come back? I’m not sure. It’s not that I did an exhaustive coverage of every single cove on the coast, but I have definitely seen enough and on some level I am ready for adventures in a different place. Whatever that place may be.

Back in St Peters

It’s amazing how quickly the vacation went by. We are on a mooring where Salty Ginger will stay until October. Julia drove Dima and Alex to the bus stop, the rest of the crew walked over to Foodland to stock up for lunch, dinner and breakfast, and tomorrow we leave Cape Breton Island.

Lightning astern

Yesterday was quite a peculiar day. We woke up to a lovely sunny weather, practically windless. The usual excitement of swimming went on for a couple of hours until the skies started to get covered by clouds. While we were having lunch we could hear the thunder in the upper layers of the clouds and on the south shore of East Bay it was raining. The thunderstorm cell passed to the south and way to the west, where we were planning to go, the skies were lighter.

After lunch the wind picked up and it got significantly colder, so I put on the foulies, Alina raised the anchor and we motored out of the protection of McPhee island. It started to rain, but not too bad. The wind was on our beam and Salty Ginger sped forward with the dark skies behind us. Then it started to rain.

Behind us and to the north of us we saw a few lighting strikes, but we were going west and the system was moving to the northeast. Perfect timing. There was another system on the horizon, but it dissipated on its own, contrary to the radar prediction that Diego was observing.

The wind was slowly dying, and once the boat speed dropped below 2 knots, it was clear that we should motor the rest of the way to Johnston harbour. It is another lovely place, a protected lake fully surrounded by islands.

We first anchored not too far away from a little beach where the dog was walked. There was one problem: mosquitoes. They happily found the boat and it was obvious that we would get eaten alive. Once Julia, Diego and Georgi got back aboard, we picked up the anchor and moved a hundred meters away, smack in the middle of the harbour. We were the only boat anyway. The new spot made it a lot harder for mosquitoes to track us down, a huge improvement!

By now the skies were blue, the sun was shining, so Julia and the kids went swimming. My sister is like a marine animal, happy to stay in the water for hours so long as she doesn’t freeze.

Diego seasoned the last package of chicken which was cooked on the grill, he cooked some rice, and we snacked on the leftover canned fish and guacamole freshly made from the last avocado.

The only small issue was that the spot didn’t have any fish. Yet again! Since we got very lucky in St Anns Bay, the fish have been hiding from us. We got excited when something pretty long, perhaps a meter, jumped out of the water, apparently trying to feed. But even though the crew circled the pond on the dinghy, they couldn’t find a magic spot.

Julia and I laid in the cockpit watching the stars and were lucky to see a couple of shooting stars, but way less than the day before.

Quiet morning

I woke up just before the alarm which was set for 7. It was windless and the sun was shining through the light fog. We had an hour-long motor to St Peter’s and my long trip is now coming to an end.

Maskell’s cove

This time around we found a number of locals hanging out in Maskell’s cove. Given that it was Sunday and the weather was lovely, that it was not surprising to be in the company of a pontoon boat, a few motorboats, a couple of jet skis and a sailboat. There was still plenty of room for all. Only the sailboat and Salty Ginger remained at anchor by dinner time.

Julia took the dog ashore on the dinghy onto the sandbar by pushing the dinghy while swimming. The kids were jumping off the side of the boat, as they have been doing daily rain or shine. I decided to escape that madness and swam ashore after my sister. Nothing interesting was to be found in the shallow water as I waded toward the exit of the cove, but on the inside beach there were a few snails and lots of small oysters. Definitely too small to eat.

Off to the distance in a small pond were 3 birds, each standing on one foot. I figured that chances were high that they will still be there if I go back with the dinghy to get the camera. Julia loaded the dog into the dinghy and I rowed back. On the way I saw Alex and then Diego with the kids swimming towards the shore. Dima got cold and didn’t feel like swimming anymore, but he was happy to come along on the boat.

The birds were still there. While I was fiddling with the focus of the camera, I also turned the burst mode on. And right then the birds decided to take off! The focus was already set for the right distance and I got a few good pictures of them taking off. It all happened very quickly, and getting that captured without the burst mode would have been impossible. Unless I’m mistaken they were lesser yellowlegs.

 

We heard an osprey call, and we saw an eagle in the distance, but they did not come close. Fishing was also disappointing. Diego had one bite, but the fish got away.

Alina and I cleaned the mussels that the kids collected off the dock in Baddeck. Arguably, we should have changed their water more frequently during the previous 24 hours, but they survived with exception of a few. I asked Julia if she wanted rosemary or thyme while cooking them, and she said to put both. That worked out very well. It’s hard to spoil fresh seafood! Unlike the mussels we found in the tidal waters, these were much smaller and didn’t have any pearls inside.

Natural colours

Despite the presence of mosquitoes, I didn’t feel like going inside after dinner and instead lounged in the cockpit with my guitar. Julia came to join me and we sang a few songs. Some inspired by the starry skies and shooting stars. The Bimini was folded to have an unobstructed view of the sky, and after we saw a few shooting stars, we called the kids so that they could also enjoy the night show. A few meteors covered a substantial arc of the sky, leaving a shiny track, a few were more faint. 

We sang a couple of lullabies for Anya and remained in the cockpit chatting with Dima, reminiscing about our high school friends and experiences. It was very quiet and warm and practically windless.

Some time after midnight I helped Julia row ashore to walk the dog. When we were coming back, we noticed that the sky had a strange tint to it. And then there were these vertical streaks… Northern lights! Most of the colours were reddish, but out in the distance a bit of blue. We called Dima who we presumed was not asleep yet, and he took a photo with his iPhone, which filled the entire sky with intense colours due to the long exposure time, painting a picture that had nothing to do with what the naked eye was observing. “I will never believe pictures on the internet!” remarked Dima. He had seen similar pictures from his friends who went to see the northern lights, and now he was skeptical about what they actually saw.

The third streak of natural light in the middle of the night was bioluminescence. It wasn’t as abundant as we have seen in other places, but clearly visible when I disturbed the water with my foot.

The agreement was to wake up for the sunrise, which is exactly what we did with the previous crew. Unfortunately I woke up an hour too early, and by the time it was time to get up I was too sleepy. Dima was also woken up by Alex half hour before the alarm, so by the time the alarm went off he had already seen the red band of light on the horizon and stayed in bed. I saw that it was lovely and woke up Alina. Julia and Diego came up with her to watch the morning light show. Overall, a great stay in a beautiful setting!

Dog rescue

Adventures wouldn’t be adventures if something didn’t go as planned. At least sometimes. And hopefully without severe consequences.

While everyone swam ashore after breakfast, I decided to stay and get some alone time. I saw the crew running around excitedly on the beach. Turned out that was a horse fly that they were trying to escape from. Not that exciting.

I changed into the swimming trunks and decided to meet them half way. Then I hear people shouting “Georgi, where is he?” It turned out that the dog went overboard. He was sitting on the bow of the dinghy and some disturbance (rowing?) shook him off and he landed under the dinghy! The humans reacted fast enough and extracted the dog and got the wet, unhappy, rat-looking creature back into the dinghy.

Later we figured out that Georgi did not learn his lesson. He didn’t fall overboard, but he definitely did a few dangerous things aboard Salty Ginger that could have landed him into the lake. Perhaps that’s an incentive to get a life vest for the little creature.

Wind games

Once all the excitement of having rescued the dog settled, it was time to pull out of the cove. The typical southwesterly or westerly wind picked up, even in the cove, so it allowed us to unroll the sail right after we raised the anchor, turn off the motor and sail out. I wasn’t sure how strong the wind would be outside the cove, so only a part of the mainsail was rolled out.

Indeed, there were whitecaps out on the lake, so I didn’t unroll the entire jib either. The wind was doing something similar to what I experienced on my single hand sail: it would pick up and shift. Luckily, we would get a lift during the puff. Alex asked if he could steer (we were working on that!) and I was happy to let him point directly towards the Barra Strait bridge. I was sitting on the jib sheet. Let out the sheet when we were almost on the beam reach, trim back in when the wind would ease and we were close hauled. Yes, as Sasha remarked on our first sail through the lake, the sailing part is not boring.

I hailed the bridge operator, who confirmed that he saw us and would open the bridge in time. Professionals are professionals. I saw the traffic stop, the bridge starting to open, and a hundred meters before we were at the bridge is when it was opened fully.

On the other side of the strait the wind calmed down a lot. I thought we would be able to maintain the same course and then fall off, but no, we got a header and to avoid two short tacks I just motored for 5 minutes until we actually could fall off. I thought it would be spinnaker weather (well, we first had to eat lunch). But no, as I kept turning away from the wind to point into the East Bay, the wind kept shifting, so we remained just forward of the beam reach. Definitely not a good setup for the spinnaker. The crew was chilling and taking it easy, and enough wind picked up for us to do 5.5-6 knots, so I remained under the main and the jib. Easy does it. Sometimes.

Character building weather

For the most part we are following Gerry’s rule to relax in the lake. We slept in till 8, breakfast was finished at 10, but then we kind of felt rushed since we were asked to vacate the mooring by 11.

The launch picked us up from the mooring and took us to the marina where Dima, Alina and Anya took a shower. Julia, Diego and Andres went to the grocery store. I ran to the hardware store to get the teflon tape for propane fittings. While there, I realized that the cheap forks with red handles that periodically fall out annoy me more and more, so once I saw stainless silverware, I got 8 forks and 4 spoons to throw away the ones that I don’t like. There was also the important mission of getting some white wine and beer for the next 4 days before we leave Salty Ginger in St Peter’s.

The last task for the day was to pump out the holding tank. The launch took Alina, Anya and myself to the boat and the guy said he will be on the dock to take our lines. We put on the fenders, prepared the dock lines and left the mooring. Getting to the dock was easy: all I needed was to stop the boat behind a very beamy 50-footer and the wind blew us onto the dock. The fenders absorbed the shock and we tied up.

The guys at the dock told us that we have some time before the next boat pulls in, so we prepared lunch while still tied up. The wind would build up and then let go. Given the forecast of 15 knots or so, I was sure we would end up having a nice beam reach followed by a run into St Andrews Bay.

Out on the water

Getting Salty Ginger peeled off the dock was more intense than I expected. The stern did not want to point upwind. I tried to use the forward cleat to fix the bow and reverse, but then saw that we wouldn’t clear the boat behind us and abandoned that attempt. The marina guy tried to push the stern off the dock, but I knew that it wouldn’t work. He suggested to get his buddy and do that together, but there was no way the two of them could overpower the side wind. Ultimately, we threw a line to a dock upwind, cleated it there and attached the other end to a winch on the stern. A marina guy was on stand-by, ready to untie the line from the cleat. Diego winched the stern which did get Salty Ginger’s stern pointing off the doc, I put the engine in reverse, line was released from the dock, and to a clear appreciation of the crew standing on the 50-footer we motored out.

Once we turned around the island that protects Baddeck from the open waters of the lake, the wind picked up. 15 knots from the forecast? No, no, it was 20. A bit further out it was solid 25, which was not in any of the forecasts that I checked. I was prepared for 15-20 and had the dinghy in tow. We had a tiny little jib flying and even then, on the beam reach Salty Ginger easily accelerated to 7 knots.

Nice and easy fast sailing did not last for long. The wind was now solid 30, gusting to 35, and it shifted a bit forward, so we were on a close reach. The waves were not just breaking over the bow, a few waves splashed onto the dodger full on. I was steering on the windward side, and got splashed, not just sprayed, actually splashed by a wave. After 3 more such waves I was completely soaked.

Andres wanted to try to steer. I didn’t object: the steering was light, we were not overpowered, but the waves kept turning the boat right and left. He lasted a few minutes. Then Alina took a turn and was terrified of the boat’s motion through the seas. The wheel was back in my hands. Alex joined Alina and Andres on the windward side in the cockpit to look at the 2-3 foot waves and all 4 of us got splashed a lot to excited cheers of the kids.

Dima looked pretty excited, but calm. Diego and Julia were observing the whole thing with slight concern in their looks. Anya was terrified. She did not like the boat rolling through the waves and had tears in her eyes.

Dinghy rescue operation

Then it was time to bear off to round the land and point downwind into St Andrews Bay. Suddenly I hear Diego and Julia yell, “the dinghy!” They were looking back at the little thing being thrown around by the waves and the wind, and later Diego told me that he was surprised that it could keep up without overturning. Well, ultimately its luck ran out: it toppled over. The scoop that we use to get the water out was floating behind, and I knew right away that there was no way for us to retrieve it.

The poor thing was being dragged by the mothership upside down. Obviously the force on the lines was enormous and getting anything done by hand was out of the question. I shortened the jib to slow the boat down and pointed the rudder to turn us to windward. Pointing into the waves would have made the motion ridiculously unpleasant and dropping the sail would roll the boat way too much. Perhaps there was a better way to slow us down, but this was definitely good enough.

We have a block that is typically used to raise heavy dinghy motors, so it seemed to me that we could use it to lift the bow out of the water. Luckily, there are two lines running to the bow of the dinghy, so alternatively shifting the load from one line to another we were able to winch the dinghy closer to Salty Ginger and the height of the angle was enough to get it up. That way it lost a lot of water and was light enough to be righted. Amazingly enough, the oars were still there! All of us had a fearful certainty that they were floating somewhere in the bay.

Since this operation took a while, we were now ready to point dead downwind and down the rolling seas. The motion became much more comfortable, the dinghy was riding on the stern with its bow way up. I wasn’t sure how much water it would have inside, so lowering it fully into the water did not seem like a good option.

Once we were ready to turn into Island Point Harbour, the side wind flopped the dinghy to the side of Salty Ginger, and it was clear that it had to be flat on the water. The jib was rolled in, the dinghy lowered and under motor I could point the bow to the southwest and enter the harbour. The 3-foot waves ended very quickly: the mile-long harbour did not allow for large seas to build. The further in we went, the quieter the water. The wind was still solid 25-29 knots and it started to drizzle. The anchor held right away and now we could take the life vests off and relax.

Julia bailed the water out of the dinghy and I helped her get ashore to walk the dog. We picked just the right time window between periods of rain: on the way back to Salty Ginger it started to pour.

Should we have stayed in port?

Had I seen a forecast of 30 knots of wind, I don’t think we would have ventured out of the protection of a harbour. There is a place to anchor and we could have let the kids run around in the village. Even offshore the forecast called for 25 knots, so I figured it would not be heavier in the lake.

Once I saw how easily the boat handled the seas and knowing that we will not have to beat up wind, I didn’t have a sense of emergency to turn around and seek shelter. In a lighter boat, perhaps, but Salty Ginger was solid. In fact, the only miscalculation was towing the dinghy. I always fold it when we go out into the ocean, but I was sure it wouldn’t get turned over in 20 knots of wind — I’ve seen it manage such seas before. Perhaps, I could have tied it even closer to the mothership, although I’m not sure that would have been enough to keep it upright. Losing the bailing scoop is a small price to pay for this adventure and knowing that at least in somewhat protected waters, 35 knots is quite alright for Salty Ginger.

The weather system that brought the wind is clearly tropical: it has been very humid and warm the entire day. And Julia’s kids found that perfectly amenable for swimming despite the chill of howling wind.

The heavy weather did not end at 9pm, as was forecast. But by 1am it was perfectly still. Even the wind generator stopped humming. We had a very peaceful night at anchor and we are ready for a new adventure. Perhaps this time a slightly less exciting one.

Open water, where the phones work

There was absolutely no signal in the cove. In some ways it was actually nice. We took in the views of the gypsum rocks on the peninsula that hides the harbour from the lake.

As soon as we pulled out, a tower was visible and the cell phones came back online. We are heading to Maskell’s harbour where we enjoyed the eagles and a lovely sunrise with the previous crew. Again, there won’t be any cell signal there.

Amazingly enough, even though it’s a perfect day for sailing, while we were still inside St Andrews Bay, we were the only boat. The lake was all ours.

Sailing into 5-15 knots of wind is way easier than handling 30+, so Julia cooked a chicken soup and now that we are all fed, we are enjoying a lovely day on the water. Andres and Alex have been steering pretty much all the way and are getting better at handling gusts on a close-hauled course. Everyone is relaxed in the cockpit, quite a contrast to yesterday’s experience!

Miscalculations

The splashing in the water went on for a good while. The water was quite warm and even though the air temperature was not that high and the sun was behind the clouds, there was no wind.

Andres wanted to learn to do the back flip. The first time he got his courage together he flipped over unevenly, but hit the water below the waist. That did not deter him to try again, but this time he forgot to heed my advice to push away from the boat with his legs and as he was spinning in the air he hit Salty Ginger with his head. That was quite painful, so after he took a very short breather, he didn’t attempt the flips anymore, but still continued to jump into the water. We called our uncle in Moscow to wish him a happy birthday and the craziness on the boat gave him plenty of material for joking with us.

Dima and Alex helped me raise the anchor. For them everything is a new experience, so Dima ended up making a short video and sent it to his wife. Her reaction was not quite expected: “did you change him at least once since you arrived?”

Out of gas

Since it seemed rather windless, we started to motor in the direction of Baddeck. In the end we could have sailed into Baddeck, but it would have been all upwind and given that it was already lunch time, that would have cut into our time in the village. Julia, who was finishing cooking the fish soup, called me, “is it possible that we ran out of cooking gas?” Sure enough, we did: the pressure at the regulator was zero. Luckily we had the burner that they brought along, so we ended up having soup with potatoes that were cooked through.

Baddeck Marine assigned us to a mooring way outside of the main mooring field. I reserved the mooring to be able tuck away from the remnants of the hurricane, which is staying to the northeast of us, but had the storm actually hit us here with 30 knots, the fetch of St Patricks Channel would have made the mooring very uncomfortable, and we might have actually been forced to look for a more sheltered anchorage. The night was practically windless and the forecast for today does not call for more than 20 knots of wind.

I was optimistic about finding a way to refill the tanks, but Aron at the marina could not come up with a way to get me driven some 45 minutes away — the closest points where one can find propane. His recommendation was to go talk to people at the sailing club or find a 20-pound tank at the hardware store. Off I went to the hardware store and saw a hose that maybe would have made it possible to use the small tanks. But I wanted to be sure that the threads fit, so I took the marina launch back to Salty Ginger, removed the hose that connects the tanks to the gas line and headed back. The hose that I was eyeing initially had a completely different thread, so it was useless. But then I noticed that the adapter to the small tanks, the last one in the store, had a second set of threads that matched the threads of the tanks. Yay! I got the adapter, a few more tanks and headed to a bistro for a beer and some alone time. The crew were still in the museum.

Thinking about it, I should have had the adapter from the start: it will be nice to have a backup in the long run. I also think that it may be the case that I didn’t tighten the hose in the tank tight enough and a small leak over the last 2 weeks was enough to lose a good part of the gas: based on my previous experience, a tank should last a month when we cook on a regular basis.

Not really trespassing

While I was finishing my beer, everyone else went to the grocery store. The small complication was that it was starting to rain and I wanted to avoid having to do 2 long runs from the marina dinghy dock to Salty Ginger. First I found a park which cut the distance to a half. Then while I was waiting, I saw a girl coming off a private dock and asked her if it’d be ok to use their dock to get people onto the boat. She went to ask her parents, who said that it’d be fine. That cut the distance of the dinghy ride to some 100 meters. We used the dock again late at night to walk the dog.

Back to Great Bras d’Or

It is mighty nice of the low pressure system to have missed Cape Breton Island. The sunny weather with moderate winds makes it a lot easier to cruise with kids. They can stay in the cockpit, they don’t get seasick and they have something to do. I feel for the nature, though: the vegetation would be very happy with rain. Perhaps it will get some moisture in the next few days, but nothing major in any case.

Coordinating the passage out of St Anns Bay with the Englishtown ferry was as seamless as the night before. The ferry crossed the narrows as we were approaching it and told me on the radio that it’ll be safe in a minute. Then a fellow yelled from the deck that we were good to go. Within a couple of minutes after we crossed, the ferry started its journey back. What a repetitive job with lots of responsibility…

At first the wind was light and behind us. Spinnaker? “No way,” said the wind shifting forward some 40 degrees with a gust. But then it quieted down, so sailing with the genoa was a bit slow. Code-0 it is. The wind continued to dance around: broad reach, close reach, beam reach. Andres steered the boat most of the way and seemed to have learned how to resist the boat rounding into the wind in gusts. I foresee more shifty and gusty winds over the next few days, so we’ll see whether the lesson was learned.

Bird islands

This time around we were not as lucky with the puffins as we were a week ago. I motored slowly on the leeward side of the islands. We saw many groups of seals. Some popping their heads out of the water to check us out, some basking in the sun.

An eagle was perched on the top of the cliff. At the same time another eagle was being chased by a couple of gulls. Clearly someone got too close to a chick. The eagle that wasn’t bothering anyone also ended up being chased away. It was rather amusing to observe how smaller birds with much more manoeuvrable flight could chase away a big predator.

In the distance through the binoculars I spotted the only puffin. The groups of puffins that Mark and I observed were nowhere to be seen. They must have missed the message that we were coming…

By now it was late and everyone was hungry. Julia fried the smaller mackerels in the galley and everyone enjoyed the fish while being rocked by the building seas rolling in from abeam.

Gusty sailing

Even though the tide tables predicted reversal of the current by 15:00, we encountered helpful current in both at Point Noir and at the Seal bridge. Once we were through those the northwesterly wind seemed to make it possible to sail in the rather narrow arm of the lake.

The hills over which the wind was coming did crazy things to the air. This time I was ready, holding the jib sheet in my hands, ready to ease it in the puffs. Salty Ginger would accelerate to over 6 knots, then slow down to 2. A couple of times when I was ready to roll the sails in and start motoring, the wind would come back. Ultimately it started blowing in our face, so to make it possible for everyone to swim, we rolled the sails in — I delegated that job to the kids — and pulled into Big Harbour.

It seems that the locals name their harbours based on the size of the entrance. The place where we are in today is way smaller than Little Harbour, but the entrance to the latter is some 30 meters wide and here we are wide open to the east. Just like in Little Harbor, it feels like we are in a small lake. There are cliffs on one side, a couple of houses on the other side. We are tucked into a shallower part of the cove on the west side and out in the distance a hill closes the lake visually on the eastern side.

Georgi has become even braver than he was the first couple of days. He clearly doesn’t understand that the boat might heel suddenly and he would end up overboard. He would go on the leeward rail and even try to venture to the foredeck while we were underway. So periodically someone would yell to make sure that the dog ends up back in the cockpit.

St Anns Bay

By the time we had breakfast, the interest in discussing the alarms that went off during the night waned. There didn’t seem to be any fish in the shallow waters of the bay, so we departed after a quick swim. When the dinghy was pushed towards Salty Ginger, Georgi got brave and jumped onto it to see what the humans were up to in the water.

In the light winds we set the spinnaker, and yet again the wind was directly behind us, so wing-and-wing it was. There was a lonely sailboat that went deeper into St Patricks Channel and until we were much closer to Baddeck that was the only traffic on the water. Just south of Baddeck we found quite a few sailboats: we had to navigate through a regatta with some 15 boats. They were all going upwind, so I had to do my best not to interfere with them. Once we entered the Great Bras d’Or, again we were alone.

Since the wind died down, I let the kids spend some time on the inflatable. The rascals wanted to protect their hands with gloves, and of course, one glove was lost when Alex flew off the pillow. The rest of the way under the bridge and through Point Noir narrows was quick since the current was helping us. The clouds disappeared and it was rather warm, Salty Ginger’s speed almost exactly matching the wind speed.

The current through Point Noir was very strong. The wind also picked up and we entered the Gulf of St Lawrence at 11 knots! Now we had to round Cape Dauphin to get to Fairy Hole, the cave which was pointed out to Mark and I by the locals last week. The wind that was with us for the last few hours now was in our face, but despite the few miles of water from St Anns Bay to where we were, the chop was not that bad.

Fairy Hole

The steep rocky shoreline was quite impressive! We had no trouble spotting the cave and the little beach nearby where one could land. The question to which I did not know the answer was what kind of bottom we would find. I attached a trip line to the anchor and in it went and set right away in the strong wind. Salty Ginger was safe in some 20 feet of water.

Of course the motion of the boat was quite different from the motion of the dinghy. The up and down motion made it challenging to attach the engine and to embark. Julia opted to swim ashore, and the rest of us got there in two trips: I took the kids first and the picked up Dima and Diego.

The boys found remnants of lobsters (ok, we believe that they exist here) and a few other stinky treasures which ultimately had to stay ashore. The waves entering the cave made low slurping sounds making it kind of magical to be inside. The name does fit the place.

Before swimming back, Julia and Alina found small mussels on the rocks which they harvested for appetiser. The wind was still blowing, so between the water temperature and going out into the wind, the girls were freezing and needed to bundle up and drink some tea.

St Anns Bay

Between the sandbar on the west side and Englishtown on the east side runs a cable ferry. We saw the cars being loaded onto the ferry, so clearly it was still in operation. They didn’t come on the radio first, but as we neared the narrows, the captain hailed us. I said I would like to coordinate our passage and he kindly let us through.

By now the current reversed and sucked us into the whirlpools inside the bay. We anchored well out of the channel and the kids under the supervision of Dima and Diego went fishing. The school of mackerel was swimming under and around Salty Ginger, so the fishing was ridiculously easy: lower the sabiki rig to the bottom and within seconds there would be a bite. Most fish were too small to keep and had to be thrown back. Julia doesn’t enjoy the game of catch-and-release, so she stayed inside and cooked the dinner, which was followed by a game of picture codenames and a few songs.

The night was quiet. Not just in comparison to the night before. It was just wonderfully quiet. I got up at sunrise to go to the bathroom and saw gorgeous red outline of the horizon with a few clouds. The sun was rising behind Cape Dauphin, so knowing that I won’t see it come out of the water, I went back to sleep.

The morning fishing was different: the bites were not nearly as frequent, but the fish that Alex pulled out were significantly larger than what we got last night. We’re definitely all set for a fish-based menu today!