While walking around Baddeck, Mark bought steaks for dinner. Given our not always stellar experience with local food establishments, the decision to eat aboard was easy to make. Yes, there is the clean up that has to happen, but a) we can cook better and b) it is quite comfortable aboard. Katya was in charge of booking a hotel in Halifax since their flight was early in the morning. Her father joked that she probably booked a five-star hotel. To which she responded, “what you think I’ll go to HolidayInn after the luxury aboard Salty Ginger?”
Before we started with the dinner, Mark and Katya organized the medical kits aboard. The things that were not labeled now have labels and even the two boxes, one with drugs and another one with bandages got labels! I still prefer for nobody to get sick or get hurt aboard!
Now that we knew that the spinnaker setup works well without chafe, it was time to pretty up the setup. I took out the dyneema rope that has been aboard probably for the last 7 years and together with Katya we spliced a loop, so now attaching the block on deck is quick and easy.
The dinner was excellent (as is usually the case) and we ended up chatting till past midnight.
Double handing
In the morning I took Sasha and his children ashore. This is the third time this year that I change crews, and I realize that I am quite emotional about that. I do feel sentimental saying goodbye to “my” people after spending a week together in close quarters.
Mark and I discussed our options. The forecast in Baddeck was +30C and light breeze. We already explored the village, so there was no point staying there. I downloaded the current table for the Great Bras d’Or — the channel that connects the rest of the lake to the Gulf of St Lawrence. The current just reversed to ebb and at noon it would be favorable for a potential sail up north. The forecast in Ingonish was light SW breeze for both Wednesday and Thursday. Well, in that case we will figure out how to get back into the lake by Friday so that Mark can take the shuttle to Halifax in time to catch his flight on Sunday. Dinghy packed up, things tidied up, anchor up.
The light breeze put us on a downwind course towards the narrows in the Great Bras d’Or. No surprise, we set up the spinnaker. The only issue was that the mainsail was stealing the wind from the spinnaker and the latter couldn’t inflate. One of those rare cases, where going wing-and-wing with main and the spinnaker actually worked. Very calm sea state made it not only possible, but easy. We did have to jibe a few times, but we could always find a setup so that we could point where we needed to sail.
Sailing down this channel felt a bit like sailing on the Hudson north of NYC, although a bit narrower. With one big difference: we saw one boat pass us and a couple of boats at anchor. Other than that we were completely on our own.
The current helped. Especially so at the bridge and at the narrows where the channel flows into the Gulf we got 3 knots of help.
A mile out from the channel the wind picked up to 18 knots, so the spinnaker had to come down. Bird islands were right in front of us, but we were rather hungry. Instead of bobbing around in the building seas we pointed the bow to the nearby shore, dropped the anchor, ate and swam.
As I was coming out of the water, we saw a motor boat go full speed towards us. Oh, oh, what do they want? The guy at the helm asked us if we knew about the Fairy Hole. Turns out, there is a cave that can be fun to explore. Well, thanks, we will see if we can fit it into our itinerary.
Bird Islands
Alyssa, our guide on Sable Island, recommended we check the islands out since it is a well-known place for birdwatchers. We already saw a gannet, and Mark thought that he saw an eagle on the cliffs where we were anchored. The two islands are only a mile and a half from shore, so we motored to avoid having to deal with the sails while navigating the rocky shoreline.
Indeed, there were a lot of birds. We saw a few eagles, lots of cormorants, gulls, herons and sure enough, puffins. On a number of rocks seals were basking in the sun. A birdwatching boat Puffin Express was able to pull up much closer to the shore than Salty Ginger, but hey, we found what we were looking for!
Light breeze. Right…
Ingonish was only 16 miles away from where we were anchored for lunch, so Mark said, “we’ll be there in 3 hours.” Under the mainsail it looked like we were on a beam to broad reach, perfect spinnaker weather in 13 knots of true wind. 7-8 knots, easy sailing, but we couldn’t quite stay on course: our motion shifted the wind forward and we were more on close to beam reach, not the right angle for the giant sail. As soon as we took it down, the wind picked up to 18 knots. Well, that’s simple: the genoa will be sufficient.
Mark took the helm and had fun driving until he found the helm a bit heavy and handed it to me. Indeed with 8.5 knots of speed, Salty Ginger slightly overpowered it became a physical activity keeping her on course. In puffs up to 20-21 knots we sped up to above 9 knots. Fun! I don’t know if there is a wind categorization deflation, but that is not a light breeze that was forecast.
And then we had a big puff. Despite the fact that I had the wheel turned all the way to prevent the boat from heading up, she was not controllable and rounded up. Once the sails lost the power and the boat righted itself, we shortened the jib. Still doing 8 knots, spray flying over the bow, but all under control.
The hills in Cape Breton Highlands are a few hundred meters tall, and the hot wind was coming right over them. We weren’t sure what we would find when we got closer: either a wind shadow or katabatic acceleration. It was the former, but not for long. As soon as we came around the point, we had to head up to get into the harbour. Immediately the jib had to be shortened to a handkerchief. If we had to go for much longer, we would have also shortened the mainsail, but with only 2 miles to go, we kept as long as it was practical on a close-hauled course. The gusts built up to mid twenties. The sails were flapping violently as we rolled them in.
Into the harbour
The channel into the harbour is buoyed, so we figured that staying in the middle would be safe. I was watching the depth which suddenly started to go to 10, 5, 3, 2 feet. Engine in neutral, the wind slowed us down a lot. Boom. The keel is on a rock. The strong wind started to turn the boat around, but the boat didn’t move. Now that it was broadside to the wind, there was a bit of a heel angle and that allowed me to reverse back into the channel.
Mark went on to the bow and directed me to favor the left side of the channel. There we found plenty of depth. The observers on the rocky beach asked us if everything was alright. By then, yes, all was good.
We took the suggestion of the cruising guide to motor deep into the harbour and drop the anchor there. It made a lot of sense: we didn’t want to spend the night being thrown around by the waves. The wind puffed into the upper 20s.
We let out a bit more scope on the anchor chain. It dug in immediately. Snubber lines tied off, time to relax and enjoy the heat of the “light breeze”.
Mark on the cleaning spree
While I was taking a shower, Mark scrubbed the cooking range. It was polished like a mirror! (Of course I made it a bit dirty while cooking the dinner.)
In the morning I found Mark scrubbing the step fender. It got gummed up on one of the docks a long time ago and was sticky and ugly. Not anymore! The cleaning compound Goof-off that Mark found in Baddeck took all the gunk off the rubber, and the fender looks brand new! That’s sailors for you: taking vacation where you get to fix and clean the boat in exotic places.
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