Second half of July: OCC / RNSYS Rally - by Elsie

We arrived in Shelburne, Nova Scotia on 12th July after a fantastic passage from Provincetown. The rain hit us as we turned into the bay and it was cold enough for four layers.  After the lovely customs and immigration people paid us a visit and stamped us into the country, we both collapsed and slept. A good tip, stick the cruising number customs gives you in a window so that if you are not there or asleep they can still check up on you and don’t need to revisit.

Shelburne Yacht Club (temporary clubhouse)

The next morning, we awoke to wall to wall sunshine. The yacht club kindly let cruisers use their dingy dock and showers even when they are anchored. Sadly, the club house had a fire on the 19^th May and they were housed in a portacabin with tables and chairs under a huge Bimini to shade from the sun and make sure you don’t get wet in the rain. They thoughtfully provide garbage disposal as well. Friendly folk who stopped to ask if you wanted a lift to the Mall were politely told no thank you as we needed to stretch our legs. The laundry was only up the road and there was a change machine, hurrah, and the Farmers Market was on the go down on the shore, it being a Saturday. Not many vegetables left when we got there but lots of home baking, loaves of bread and cake. We passed many establishments with menus and one of the items that caught my eye was haddock in beer batter and chips, yum. I haven’t had a decent fish supper for about a year so I persuaded the skipper that he didn’t want to cook a meal on the boat and we should go out for our supper. To be honest it didn’t take much persuading.

 Looking at the weather, before we left Ruby, for the next week, there were three days of wind that we could move north with. We are joining a cruise in company in Halifax by Thursday 25^th run jointly by OCC/ Royal Nova Scotia Yacht Squadron. We have never been on a rally before and didn’t know how we would like it. It was an experiment. One of our objections in the past has been that no matter what the weather is if the rally says go you must go. We would try this two week cruise in company. As we want to make good progress north, we decided we would only stop in Shelburne for a couple of days and sail north on Monday. Therefore, the priorities were food shopping, laundry and water.  We took a stroll up King Street to the supermarket which was surprisingly cheap with lots of fresh fish and a good bakery department, so we bought what we needed in the next 24 hours then returned to the boat for the laundry. While we waited for the washing machine to do its stuff, we picked one of the many pubs and had a leisurely meal of fish and chips and sampled the local beer and cider. My cider, No boats on a Sunday, was delicious, but expensive. One for a wee treat every now and again. Lionel seemed to like his beer as well. The food was good. Haddock is such a treat for this Scots girl. My only criticism would be the batter was a little doughy, the oil must have not been hot enough. We checked with the bar maid about tipping in Canada, as we did not want to seem stingy. 10 to 15% seems to be in order, a bit like USA.

The afternoon was spent drying laundry, finding out about Shelburne, sleeping and reading. Shelburne was settled by the French in the late 17^th century but after several reincarnations it became a viable town when Loyalists, escaping from America during the War of Independence, came in huge numbers. The name was changed from Port Roseway to Shelburne to honour the then prime minister of the United Kingdom. Ship building and fishing have been the main industries in the town which have a number of museums dedicated to those subjects. There seemed to be lots to do and see and it is a very friendly town so after looking at the weather again we decided to stay till Wednesday and recharge our batteries.

The next few days were wall to wall sunshine so we didn’t visit any of the museums, instead we took advantage of the rail track that the district had made into a walking trail and did some exercise. The countryside is very like the north of Scotland, shady lanes, pine forests and marsh land. The first part of the trail was a three mile walk through the town itself. Very nice but as we progressed out into the country it got wilder with lots of marshland on either side of the track. Marshland means bugs and we both got eaten. I would highly recommend carrying good bug spray with you if you ever go walking in Nova Scotia and wear a hat. One spray in the morning is definitely not enough. At one point we had to wade through a flood, I did ask if there were any snakes in these parts! As we walked back to the town along quiet lanes, I remarked on the similarities to Rhu Na Haven Road in Aboyne but on a much bigger scale. The houses were built in clearings on huge plots surrounded by trees. Sometimes there was just a glimpse of a chimney from the road. All of them were either built of wood or some sort of tongue in groove plastic. They must be very well insulated as it goes down to -15C here in winter. There were a lot of the plots undeveloped and we speculated on the price. After checking out some estate agents’ windows we found that a plot of a few acres was affordable but it’s too cold in the winter to settle here.

Lionel contacted the OCC Port Officers as a courtesy and it happened their boat was in the marina being readied for their cruise to Barbados in the Autumn. We went over to meet them and swapped stories about mutual places we had been and people we both knew. The club has an active social wing as well as sailing and we invited them to join us on Tuesday evening, our last night here, for a drink but it was their wedding Anniversary and they were going out for a romantic meal.  There was easy access to the fuel dock so instead of carrying water back and forward in jugs we took Ruby over and filled up the tanks. Lionel was rather disappointed to find the diesel and petrol was cheaper here than in USA. We had specifically filled up before we left Marion because he thought Canada was more expensive for fuel and finding fuel docks in remote areas is always problematic. And then we realised that we were buying litres, not gallons.  Another bonus, the water was free and drinkable. The anchorage and moorings were quickly filling up and we spotted another OOC pendant in the bay so the next morning we dinghied over to say hello. It turned out that Ann and Frank on Scot Free crossed over the Atlantic the same year as us and have spent the last three years doing more or less the same, Caribbean in the winter and USA in the summer. We were on our way for yet another walk so we asked them if they would like to meet that evening for a drink and natter, which we did and a good time was had by all. The Commodore  of the club came from Dundee and she joined us and told us the story of how she and her husband ended up living in Shelburne. We knew we would be up early the next morning so we excused ourselves before the pub quiz started and retired to bed.

On Wednesday 17^th July we regretfully left Shelburne with a light south westerly wind forecast. We had identified a few possible anchorages on our way just in case we got bored with the light winds but our preferred destination was Port Medway on the River Medway, about 60 miles away. We left around 8am giving ourselves plenty of time. The wind can be fickle in these river bays as it is in the sea lochs on the west of Scotland so one minute, we were sailing along nicely with the sails full the next the sails were flogging around looking for a breeze. The decision was made to motor sail to the mouth of the river then try to goose wing north east. We are now quite slick in setting up the preventor and pole to goose wing. For you landlubbers, goose wing means putting the main sail and jib out on different sides of the boat when the wind is directly behind the boat. The wind should be slightly more in favour of the main sail, sailing by the wind, so the main is in less danger of an accidental gybe. A good preventor is a necessity when doing this as it is (supposed) to stop the wind getting on the wrong side of the main and causing it to fly over to the other side (accidental gybe) which may damage or even break the boom and rigging. There are many theories about how is the best way to rig up a preventor and really it is personal preference and wind strength that dictates which way a sailor will use. In fickle winds we always try to get the best leverage which means stringing the preventor from the end of the boom to the most forward cleat and back to the back cleat in the cockpit so it is easily tightened or slackened. With the sails set and one reef in the main we made good speed with the wind building as the day progressed Early afternoon we put in another reef after we hit a maximum speed of 10.7 knots. We had been hampered with fog most of the day, not dense fog, but it was good to see the land as it lifted late afternoon and we had an easy passage into the River Medway and up to the town. In seeing a lone yacht moored in a bay just before the village, Lionel decide to anchor there for the night as it gave more shelter from the expected wind than the suggested anchorage around the corner opposite the town. We arrived at 5:30 pm just in time for a rest before cocktail hour and dinner. It took us just over 9 hours and our average speed was 6.9 knots.

We awoke the next morning to the sun splitting the sky. It was going to be hot and we needed some exercise so we prepared well with bug spray and hats and lots and lots of water. There was no obvious place to land a dingy at the harbour but after some discussion with two old sailors they thought it would be best if we tucked ourselves in a corner which was barred off by a hanging loose rope. The ladders were long and steep but I managed. Lionel did cheer me up by mentioning the climb back down would be even longer as the tide would be out by the time we got back. We had decided to walk out to the lighthouse in the river, about a six mile walk there and back. The town is a sleepy little place with houses strung along the main streets with large gardens, some tended, some left to nature. The French originally named the place Port Motare and it was a thriving shipping community, shipping salted and dried fish to the US, Caribbean and South America and lumber all over the world. Alas, it now has some very small fishing boats and relies on tourists as its main occupation. There is maybe a couple of hundred people who live in the community. As a local pointed out, you can’t come to Port Medway on the way to somewhere. The road ends here.

The walk to the Medway Head Lighthouse was a hot one but once there we were rewarded with views out to the Atlantic and the buoys at the entrance to the river booming out their fog horn warnings on a spectacularly clear day. The horn is wave activated and must boom 24 hours a day, seven days a week as the swell is constant. There were no tours of the lighthouse that day. The tours are Saturday to Monday and Wednesday 11am to 3pm. As we had come that far we decided to walk to Long Cove another half mile or so to get the full tour.  This was a little harbour with maybe half a dozen houses round it, some were just ruins but others looked lived in. The path stopped here abruptly. Time to turn back.

As we approached the junction of the roads which was all intent in purpose the centre of the village, a lady shouted us over to the Baptist Church and congratulated us on our epic walk. She had been doing her house work as we had walked out the road earlier, and now, she was the custodian of the church. The church had been closed a few years ago, there had been only three parishioners and it was not viable to employ a preacher so she opened the church for a few hours every day during the summer months, sold second hand books and told tourists the story of the church and the village. The money she made paid for the building insurance. The love of her church shined out her eyes as she eagerly told us her stories. She asked earnestly if either of us played the piano, we could play this one if we wanted. Regrettably we said no. Sighing, she wished us well and suggested we deserved an ice cream from the local café next door after our long sticky walk which we thought was a great idea as well. It was delicious and very good value for money. An old man came in for his lunchtime coffee and plonked himself down at our table. He introduced himself and we got a potted version of his life story and the story of the village. He had worked in the merchant navy for most of his life and liked to tell a tale. He mentioned the history weekend which started the next day and the fact that the café became a pub on the Friday night with live music supplied by a local band. The waitress told us if we wanted a meal, we would be better to come in early as it got very busy. Early to us is around 7 but she said no, be here for 5:30 if you want a seat. They did not take any reservations, it was first come first served. She wasn’t kidding.

 We bought a few supplies and then returned to Ruby for a well deserved rest. It sounded fun so we decided to stay for another day, having a lazy forenoon and turning up about 3pm to have a look round the history exhibition and eat some free food put on by the committee. It was interesting to see the different eras of Port Medway. It had been a busy little place in the past with a population over 5000. The main industries were well documented but Port Medway also had a part in the gold rush, it being a very small short part. The gold was hard to get to and too much time and effort was needed. Ah well. There were also many school and church pictures and some of families picnicking on the shore. Many locals were oohing and aaing at them, reminiscing about bygone days and family members no longer alive.  We had a short walk around the rest of the community then went for our pub meal and entertainment at the Grocer. The place was packed and we got the last table. There was a birthday party going on which seemed to have taken even the staff by surprise. We didn’t mind waiting as it was far too early to eat, in our opinion, so we amused ourselves by watching the band tune up and play a few familiar (and some not so familiar) tunes. Our meal eventually appeared. We didn’t mind the wait and tried to put the staff at ease as they seemed to be very harassed. The food was good. The music was OK. The dancers were hilarious. In the break, the owner of the restaurant came out and gave a speech thanking people and telling the audience to enjoy themselves. “We’re going to part all night long, the band stops playing at 10pm” This had us in stitches, our kind of party. No late nights here!

On Saturday 20^th July we upped anchor and headed out. The wind was forecast to be light and variable. We didn’t know how far we were going to go, so we identified a few anchorages along the way just in case we got fed up motoring. However, the wind was kind although it was from straight behind again so with one reef in the main and the cruising chute deployed, we goose winged up the coast. It got no stronger than Force 3 or 4 so it was safe to leave the cruising chute up. We don’t like using the chute in winds over maybe 15 knots as experience tells us that the safety line, a small piece of string that is statically placed at the foot of the chute, breaks. For a few years we had this at the top and when the wind got too strong the sail was dumped into the water. Lionel had to then rescue it and we had to somehow rinse it in fresh water and dry it off. Not an easy job. Now the safety line is at the foot which means it just flies and doesn’t get wet although it is far easier for it to get ripped on all the stuff attached to the mast. We had a good sail and turned into Sambro Bay at 4pm. There we took the chute down and motored towards a nice anchorage opposite the fishing pier at the town. I’m calling it a town, a few large houses. This could be a suburb of Halifax as the city is just round the next point and maybe 15 miles away by road. We had our small anchorage to ourselves and it was very comfortable with the prevailing south westerly wind. Another yacht was anchored the other side of the small island we were beside and we noticed that two boats were anchored just off the passage between the mainland and some very large rocks, This would be OK if you managed to get the prime spot but the swell would have made the night quite uncomfortable for the other boat.

The next morning, as we were having breakfast, a commotion broke out at the fishing pier. One large boat seemed to have taken a smaller boats space and they were not happy. Horns were blown and lots of shouting but eventually the big boat moved over to let the other boat in so they could unload that nights catch. Having made excellent time yesterday, we had a late start, 10am, and motored towards Halifax. We were not due to be at the Yacht Club till Thursday so Lionel had identified an anchorage on McNab’s Island. There was very thick fog, so I set the fog horn and we motored slowly round the point and towards Halifax, trying to make out buoys as we went along. It helps that Lionel understands the radar because of his work on “big” ships many years ago and he watched the screen closely. At one point another boat went down our port side but we never even got a glimpse of it.

Approaching Halifax

 As we passed Duncan Cove, the fog lifted and yes, there was a city there.

First glimpse of Halifax

 We were in the correct spot. At midday we hoisted the sail with two reefs and sailed along the west shore. The wind was very fickle and there was the added problem of staying outside the separation zone, a motorway for large boats going in and out of Halifax, so we dropped the sail and motored into a beautiful anchorage in Ives Cove. The whole island is a designated park with the usual rules and regulations but there seemed to be a little landing jetty which meant we could take the dingy over and go for a walk if we wanted to.

McNabs island

However, us being lazy, and it being a Sunday we opted for books and sleep. We had found out on Active Captain that it was possible to take the boat into the city and tie up during the day for free. There was about four or five floating pontoons where you could do this, one very close to a large supermarket. We needed stores and provisions so we made this our plan for the next day. Lionel phoned the published number to register and we were given a number which we had to display while we were on the dock. Sounds easy. We were also told that we could tie up anywhere on the pontoons as long as there was not a reserved sign. These spaces were for boats who were staying the night and paying for that privilege so they got priority. Sounds fair to me. After dinner we watched the black clouds gathering. We were in for a bit of a wet blow. It only lasted ten minutes but the thunder and lightning were spectacular and the rain did fall. Thank goodness we were anchored with 40 metres of chain out because we swung about like a cat on speed.

The next morning, we had breakfast then lifted the anchor early. We thought the earlier we went, the more spaces there would be. Our preferred pontoon was Bishop’s Landing, right in the heart of downtown Halifax. We found a vacant spot and quickly secured Ruby. There was one other yacht on the 30 minute waiting dock but the rest were empty. The pontoons are run by Develop Nova Scotia Waterfronts and their office is beside the tourist information centre. There is no need to book in unless you are staying the night. There is water and electric on the pontoons. The water is free, use your own hose, and it is potable. We did speak to one of the employees. The 30 minute dock is no longer time constrained – use it like the rest. The water has to be turned on by taps which are hidden in the old pylons, the taps on the consoles are not connected and there are lots and lots of spaces further down the water front which are a bit more private but are further away from the shops and attractions.

Ships stores were at their lowest for a long time so we decided to walk to the supermarket and see what we could see. The supermarket was only a very short ten minute walk from Bishops Landing and it was very well stocked with lots of bargains – coffee, tins of mushrooms, maple syrup, honey, cranberry juice, - everything someone needs to make the cruising life bearable! Having bought as much as we could carry, we returned to Ruby. Lionel’s first career was in the merchant navy and he spent some time in Nova Scotia working on an oil support vessel. One of his favourite pubs in Halifax was called The Split Crow which I had found out was still there. We decided to have a bit of a nostalgic lunch and walked there along streets that had definitely changed since he was last here 40 years ago. However, the pub hadn’t, although he was not greeted with “your usual is it?” The lunch was good and we wiled away a few hours listening to stories of Lionel’s misspent youth!

There was a guided walk done by students starting at 3pm so we hurried up to the Citadel, a very long climb, and joined Katie for an informative walk round downtown Halifax. Katie was a music student at one of the many universities in Halifax and had lived just across the water in Dartmouth all her life. Her chosen instrument of torture was French horn which impressed us as it is a very difficult instrument to play. The tour took over two hours and ended at the water front next to the pontoon Ruby was on. As well as interesting historical facts, Katie littered her commentary with personal anecdotes and quirky stories making it very entertaining.

Halifax claims to be the second largest natural port in the world, the biggest being Sydney. They have a few places who would like to argue that point though. The city was named after the 2^nd Earl of Halifax and it became the colonial capital in 1749. Major employers are Department of Defence, seven Universities, Halifax shipyard, various levels of Government, Port of Halifax and fishing, mining, forestry and natural gas extraction. Because of the large natural harbour, it has always had a military link and this is where the Atlantic convoys gathered before they crossed the Atlantic in the war. They also lay claim of the biggest artificial explosion (apart from the nuclear bomb) in the history of man. In December 1917 a French cargo ship, SS Monte-Blanc, and a Belgian relief ship, SS Imo, collided in dense fog in The Narrows. The French ship was carrying munitions and it caught fire. When the fire reached the hold there was an almighty explosion which killed 2000 people outright and 9000 were injured. The Richmond District was flattened. To make it worse, during that night a blizzard started and people froze to death as they had no shelter. The people of Nova Scotia and Boston rallied round. Some of the stories told are heart breaking. A film crew had interviewed survivors in the 1990s and they have tapes of their stories which people can hear in the Maritime Museum. I am glad that someone had the foresight to do these interviews so that the eye witness accounts will never be lost.

On Monday evening we returned to the McNab’s Island anchorage for our very light dinner and a very peaceful night. Tuesday followed the same pattern – in the morning we tied up to the pontoon at Bishops Landing, did some shopping in the morning, some sightseeing in the afternoon and returned to the anchorage at night. The OCC Port Officer, John, kindly gave Lionel a lift to fill our propane bottle. His help was much appreciated as it was some distance. There were a lot of spaces reserved on the pontoons but we managed to squeeze into a space on a 90 foot pontoon. There was a 35 foot boat due late afternoon but Lionel measured the space we had left and there was plenty of room for them to tie up and some more space left so we were surprised to get an email in the afternoon asking us to move as there was not enough room for the boat. Lionel replied that we had left enough and we settled down to watch a film at the Maritime Museum. When we returned to Ruby, we saw the problem. Yes, the boat was 35 foot but their dingy was up on davits at the stern, adding on another few feet. However, they managed to get in and be quite comfortable.

On Wednesday we hurried alongside to do some shopping then went around to the The Royal Nova Scotia Yacht Squadron where we took a mooring. We were going to a “posh” dinner here on Thursday evening to mark the beginning of our cruise in company. I thought clean clothes would be a good idea as there would be a lot of socialising in the next few weeks. I also discovered that my “dress” sandals were no longer wearable. They were covered in mould which would not wipe off and the metal buckle had gone rusty so some shoe shopping would have to be done. We had a look round the club and spoke to John again. Very nice place but the emphasis is on racing more than cruising as we found out that evening. 35 boats went out for Wednesday night racing evening and yes, 35 boats came back in.

Race Night

 I did the laundry on Thursday morning and we caught the bus at the main gate of the club into the shopping mall, a journey of about 20 minutes. It was exact change only and they did not have card facilities but the bus driver let us ride for free. I eventually found a pair of acceptable sandals and we arrived back at the club in time for a rest then off we went to the dinner.  We had met six other sailors who were on the cruise on our return bus journey. They seemed nice chatty people and we exchanged news about where we were going and where we had been. Little did we know that this small group were the nucleus of another 4 boats which was going to make our remaining time in Nova Scotia a remarkable trip. The dinner was good, we got more information about the cruise and met most of the people who we would be cruising with. There was no grand departure planned. It was go at your own pace so we decided to go back to our little anchorage beside McNab’s Island on Friday morning and relax before the social whirlwind of the next few weeks happened. Two cruise liners were in the harbour, Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth.

This was unusual so the harbour authorities asked them to do a parade around the harbour bay before they left for their separate next ports. It was spectacular to see the two Queens together and of course Theodore Too had to show them the way. Theodore is a tug boat in a children’s TV program. Think of Thomas the Tank Engine but on water. The fire boat was out there as well, spraying everyone who came too near. Spectacular.

On Saturday we lifted anchor at 0910 and motored out of Halifax Harbour and towards Rogue’s Roost, our first night’s destination of the cruise in company. We knew Halifax was our turning point this year but people kept on telling us that the further North you sail the more scenic it gets so we might be back. It would not have been a day that we would have chosen to sail 25 miles but this was what we were going to have to learn to do in the next few weeks – go with the fleet. The wind never got over a southerly 2 but we did sail for part of it and arrived in Rogues Roost ahead of the main fleet. It was a small anchorage for so many boats so we decided to put out an anchor marker and put out fenders on both sides, yes it was tight. However, almost everyone got in and those who did not anchored in the next even smaller bay. It was a picturesque spot with no houses but also no place to land. Our intrepid leader Dick came alongside to introduce himself, followed by a few others, all experienced long distance sailors who had a lot of knowledge about this part of the world to share. We decided to have a quiet night and were in our beds by 10pm. I think some of the parties went on a lot longer.

The next morning, we awoke to thick fog which made the anchorage look rather eerie.

 Some of the boats had been invited to a pot luck supper on Young Island. Peter and Terry, OCC port officers welcomed us to their beautiful log cabin house.

Our host

That makes it sound basic and primitive, it was not. It was everything I would love in a house, open plan living area with kitchen and dining incorporated in it, a mezzanine den and bathroom and bedrooms tucked into the space left. They had sailed a 40 foot boat and yes you have guessed the house was 40 foot long but I am guessing far more luxuries than their boat. There were 2 moorings out in the cove which they allowed us to use but we opted to anchor in the cove behind the island. It was a beautiful peaceful place.

What a setting!

The company was great fun and the food was good. Stories were told and I think firm friendships were made that day. Great group of people which we are looking forward to getting to know better.

On Monday morning we left rather reluctantly and managed a good sail in a south westerly 3 to La Have Yacht Club. I know I am using “spectacular” and “wonderful” too many times but this place was both and some more. We have always said we are floating about the world looking for our forever home and I think we have just found one of our top three. There are all types of properties along the river and on the numerous islands. We were only sorry we would not have the time to explore the area fully as we were on a time schedule with the cruise. We anchored off the La Have Yacht Club and ashore we received a rousing welcome from the members and volunteers. As we had bought a load of fresh food, we opted for a starter between us but the meals served looked appetizing, the drinks were cold and the company was chatty. We eventually dragged ourselves away at about 8 and returned to Ruby for our evening meal and sleep.

It had been arranged the next morning that there was going to be a collective trip to the bakery which was just down the river. Instead of everyone taking their dinghies or walking the three miles, Grayce (with a Y) had volunteered to pick people up, motor down to the pontoon at the bakery and bring everyone back. I decided not to go as I had a lot of tidying up to do and with Lionel out of the way the job would be so much easier. After the 8am roll call, it was decided that Jim and Joanne would start their taxi run at 9am. They skilfully swung round Five and Dime and picked up the waiting hungry sailors and away they went.

 What we did not realise was that everyone was going for breakfast and the bakery was only a small part of the shopping complex. At around midday they returned with all sorts of crafty things, glass rings, enamel earrings and of course yummy pastries and fattening cakes. A good time was had by all. We had a very lazy afternoon and last nights drinks and snacks were repeated at the Yacht Club. Good conversation, a few laughs, lots of eating and drinking and meeting and greeting new friends. It was a good night.

We headed up the La Have river to Bridgewater the next day. The town had the same idea with the pontoons as Halifax but on a smaller scale, a boat could tie up during the day for nothing but either had to pay or leave at night. The river was still and there were very few boats on it. The banks had a scattering of houses, some large, some small. It looked very beautiful and peaceful. Some of the riverside properties had a private pontoon at the bottom of the garden and some had moorings as well. I could definitely see us living in such an environment when we give up full time sailing. Bridgewater is the end of the line of any large boat as there is a low bridge over the river. As we tied up, we saw Scott Free tied up at the marina. Ann and Frank were just getting their bikes of the boat so Lionel hopped into the dingy and sped over to have a catch up. They were enjoying Nova Scotia as much as we were but taking it at a far slower pace and doing far more exercise on their bikes than we were walking. It was good to catch up with them and they pointed out where the start of todays walk was. We had decided to walk to Rhodenizer Lake via an old railway track that had been made into a trail. It was scenic countryside but very hot and I was glad we had taken two bottles of water with us. It was a bit disappointing when we got to the lake as there were private houses all around it and no public access so we had to turn around and walk back without a paddle. Next stop was the supermarket. I have to admit I did spend a lot of time round the freezer section just to cool down. After lunch, Ann and Frank appeared, to invite us to join them at one of the small microbreweries in the town. I know its not like us but we declined, the walk had exhausted both of us. We blamed the heat of course. We motored back to the yacht club and dropped anchor for the night. Everyone had moved on so we did not bother to go ashore but spent the last evening of July quietly on Ruby contemplating how lucky we were to live the life we do.

Monthly stats:

Over ground   577
Log                 681

First half of July - by Elsie

Yes, Lionel asked the question, what could possibly go wrong and we found out the question the next day.

Ruby

1st July saw us anchored at Rockport just off the old harbour. A very convenient spot for access to the town with the dinghy dock just inside the harbour wall, although at low tide the barricade of rocks makes it look inaccessible but with care it can still be done. However, I would recommend tying up at one of the empty floating pontoons as there is a long climb up the ladder from the designated dingy dock. This is about the third or maybe fourth time we have anchored here but we never went ashore as we were always on our way somewhere or going back south. It is a very convenient place to stop for the night. Every time we have visited one of us has remarked on the huge picture window that a building has overlooking the anchorage. Tonight, we will have the chance to see the window from the inside. It belongs to the town arts theatre and is a huge window at the back of the stage. A film of The Tempest is being shown tonight and we got tickets. On our morning walk we called into the booking office to collect the tickets. There were no seat numbers on the tickets so Lionel asked if we should show up early to grab good seats. The lady looked, then replied no, you should be alright. Little did we know. The walk continued along another street we had not explored so far. All streets lead to the small independent grocery/all things store at the top of the town. Expensive but nice stuff. The bread was just being delivered so we waited for fresh bread and bought a few more things. Of course, when going to the theatre you must have “sweeties” and they must not rustle or make a noise when eaten. Li picked up some strawberry pretzels but I couldn’t find anything to my taste. I had remembered the sweetie shop in the centre. On our way back I feigned surprise and managed to get half a pound of gummy bears. Excellent choice for a theatre visit. No paper rustling, chewy but not noisy chewy and lasts for ages if sucked.

Typical Rockport street

After lunch we did more investigation into our water in the bilges problem. Lionel will write a separate posting about this as it gets very complicated and somewhat technical. We made a joint decision that it would be better to get it looked at now, when we had time on our hands and the boat yards were not busy. After asking for recommendations from his sailing gurus, we decide to turn back and go to a highly recommended boat yard at Marion, Massachusetts. Then, a big problem was met. The Americans have a holiday on 4^th July, something about Independence, I don’t understand why but they seemingly decided to go it alone. The problem was they just don’t have the day off they turn it into a long weekend which meant the preferred surveyor and boat yard were shut till Tuesday, a week away. We could either turn back tomorrow and spend the holiday in Marion, which would be OK but not as fun as spending the holiday in Provincetown so you guessed, we were heading back to Provincetown for the holidays. We had been on our own in this anchorage for a couple of days but I spied several boats heading our way as I sunned myself on deck. It’s a good sport watching people anchoring and it’s even better when they see someone on deck in a boat that is already anchored. Trying to judge the optimum distance to anchor away is an art and some people will never learn it. It took two attempts for one of the boats to get it right but eventually everyone was happy and the four of us settled down for the evening.

Ruby at anchor at Rockport

Another thing I don’t quite understand is the prohibition malarkey. Rock Sound was a dry town until 2006 when some restaurants were granted a liquor licence which meant people could have a drink with their meal. It was only in the Spring of this year that alcohol was allowed to be sold in the grocery store. A visit to the theatre always includes a drink in the interval so Lionel made up some rum punch in a water bottle and off we went with our theatre proofed sweeties and our illicit drink. We now understood what the lady in the box office meant, there was at the most thirty people at the film. The large window was covered up by the screen so we did not get to see the view from the other side. The film was good. We have been to many of these live films of plays and opera over the past year but when they said it had been filmed in Stratford, we did not realise they meant Stratford, Canada not Stratford, England. The lead, Prospero, was taken by a female actress which was unusual but had been done before. Li’s daughter, Artie, had played the Duke of Milan in her last year at her drama club. In the interval we sneaked out and sat on a large window sill sipping our cocktails, little knowing that the rest of the audience also came out for a breath of fresh air. We did get some funny looks but no comments but I did notice that the people who had been sitting beside us had moved further away for the second half. Ah well, they will catch on eventually.

Next morning light airs were forecast so we decided to do the passage to Provincetown in two days. We were still in two minds about where to spend the holiday. Plymouth could be an interesting option as this is where the Pilgrim Fathers eventually settled but we knew thousands of other people would have the same idea. Also, Plymouth is not a very anchor friendly place and although there are three free mooring balls just outside the harbour they are uncomfortable for a couple of reasons – they are positioned outside the no wake area and the locals seem to take great pleasure in speeding as close as possible to them as they go pass and they are made of metal which means they bang against the boat hull with certain tides and currents no matter what you do. So, we set off motor sailing slowly in the general direction but going nowhere in particular. Lionel went down for a cat nap and the wind slowly built so I switched off the engine and sailed very slowly enjoying the silence but keeping a sharp eye out for fishing buoys. We may not be in Maine yet but they do love their buoys in Massachusetts as well. Lionel identified a possible anchorage at Green Harbour and we drew into a large bay with a wide sandy beach, dropping the anchor in time for a late afternoon tea. It was warm but not warm enough for us to think about swimming but the temperature didn’t seem to deter the locals who splashed about in the shallow water on the beautiful beach.

In the morning Lionel was awoken by splashing all around. The fish were rising and he threw out a line to see what he could catch for dinner. One smallish fish which we decide was a striped bass. Nothing else. It was light airs so we motor sailed to Provincetown and back into our preferred anchorage. We both like this place and it has everything an independent cruiser would need. The water is on a courtesy dock costing 25 cents for some? We couldn’t work out how much because it seemed to vary every time, we went so eventually we decided it was on a clock. The dingy dock was always busy but there was lots of room and there was no need for security as it is a very open friendly place. I had found out that there was a 4^th July Parade at 1030am going down the Main Street and a firework display at sunset. We planned the next day’s activities as Lionel ate his bony and rather tasteless fish and I enjoyed a veggie stir fry. We would be the ultimate tourist and arrive early for the Parade, armed with lots of water and find a nice shady seat. The firework raft was moored in the harbour so we decided we would go out in the dinghy for a good view. The day was sorted.

Provincetown sunset

A beautiful day dawned. Maybe a little history of Provincetown is needed. This was the first land fall of the Pilgrim Fathers on the Mayflower. They soon realised that it was not going to sustain life and moved down the coast to Plymouth. The first European death was here. Whether it was a natural death, a suicide or a murder is up to who you believe. However, the Europeans had noted the tall trees and came back to use the wood to build their houses in Plymouth, stripping the natural forests. Thank goodness someone had the sense to replant them about 50 years ago. Did you know that the Fathers were aiming for Virginia and was swept off course on their very rough passage? They had to petition the king for permission to stay in Plymouth which he granted.

Pilgrims Monument

 Nothing much else happened there until war was declared in Europe in the twentieth century. When it looked as if America was going to join in, the artists and their followers arrived in Provincetown to escape all the war talk and they have never left. Every second shop is a picture gallery or some sort of craft shop. There are as many theatres as there are public houses and everywhere is a party zone. It is a colourful, happy place with two flags flying beside the Pilgrims Monument, a huge Stars and Strips and an equally big Rainbow flag. We arrived and found an empty bench beside the library, not in the shade but not long to wait. So, we waited …and waited …. and waited…. It isn’t a hardship to wait around in this town. There is always something to watch or observe. Lots of interesting people and dogs. Eventually, almost an hour late, the Parade started with the usual dignitaries and some soldiers carrying flags.

Soldiers and flags

Miss Massachusetts was next in the obligatory open car then pensioner of the year and some other worthy towns people.

someone very important

Two drag queens in full regalia with sparkly stilettoes on tricycles were next, so Provincetown!

The rest of the Parade was a celebration of all things American, dressed up trucks, fire engines, ambulances. Sponsored flatbed trucks, decorated in red, white and blue filled with people throwing sweets and toys to the crowd. I managed to catch a windmill but realised there was a babe in arms behind me so I handed it over. I do have a conscience.

do you think

The last group was a Youth Theatre Group who were performing Cabaret some time during the summer. Every hundred yards they stopped and gave us a song and dance. Very entertaining. After the mornings excitement we took a stroll to the supermarket then returned to Ruby for a quiet afternoon and early dinner so we had time to drift to the firework display …which was late… very, very late … in starting. Once the Harbour Master had got everyone where he wanted them to be then decided to park herself in front of us for the best view the display began. It was good with only one or two misfires. That was our most exciting Independence Day so far – no aliens, that we know of – but exciting.

Fife and drums

The next morning, I took charge and arranged a day of sightseeing using the local bus. The day ticket was very reasonably priced and it meant we could jump on and off at will. There was a bus scheduled every hour which was just enough time to see each of the towns on route. Off we went. The first stop was at a place called Wellfleet where Marconi made the first transatlantic radio message at a place called, interestingly enough, Marconi Beach. What a coincidence! Thank goodness for tourist orientated bus drivers. It wasn’t at Wellfleet, it was about five miles outside the town but we got dropped off at the junction and was pointed in the general direction. Now, the adventure began. We walked down a road for a mile then saw the headquarters of the Park Rangers which we decided to go into and see if we could get some more information. Good job we did. This turned out to be the museum as well with a small exhibit of Marconi’s life and a scale model of the equipment he used to make the ground breaking message. Quiet disappointing. After a conversation with the lady on the desk we decided that going to the actual sight wasn’t worth the effort and to go for a small stroll instead and catch the next bus to see what other delights we could find. The stroll turned into a major hike ending up, you guessed, at Marconi Beach.

Marconi beach

Nothing is left there except a sandy beach with the Atlantic pounding on it. The radio station was only there for about six years as the erosion of the beach was so severe it was in danger of falling into the sea so they dismantled and moved it to safer spot. I bet the locals were pleased. When it was operating the noise of the sparks could be heard six miles away.

Wellfleet walk

Onward we went, eventually hitting the main road. On the travel web site, it said the bus could be hailed and stopped on this stretch of road anywhere as long as it was safe. It looked safe so we waited for the bus. Half hour later it passed but did not stop. Ok. We decided to walk to where we got dropped off. That was an official bus stop. The buses were an hour apart so we took the scenic route but still had plenty of time to catch the scheduled bus. By this time, we were commenting on the heavy traffic on the main road and how Cape Cod would soon be full if this carried on. The bus was very late. Lionel found a bus tracking page on the transport website and reported that there was a bus coming the other way in ten minutes. The decision was made to cut our losses and return to Ruby which we did. Afterwards we found out that it was common for people to spend the actual 4^th July at home then travel to their holiday destination the next day hence the heavy traffic. Never mind, we got lots of exercise.

Provincetown walk

I had picked up a whole lot of leaflets about walks in the area at the headquarters and found that there was a walk in Provincetown down to one of the famed beaches, Herring Cove. After much reassurance (and checking for himself) Lionel decide it would be a good idea to go for a walk and we headed out towards the park the next morning. It was yet again another lovely day and we enjoyed a good walk in the woodland and around some lily ponds. Where was Monet when you needed him?

Monet

We took our lives in our hands and walked along the cycle path expecting irate cyclists to be ringing their bells and shouting but it was very peaceful and pleasant and we all shared the path amicably, cyclists, walkers and the occasional jogger.

sand dunes

The beach was reached, eventually and we turned for home after filling our water bottles at a fountain made available by the beach café. Thank you. On our homeward journey we came across a metal sculptures yard. Fantastic sculptures and garden models and a very interesting man to talk to. A metal tree with lamps hanging from it caught my eye but alas, there is no room on Ruby for decorations like that. Once more a visit the supermarket (Stop and Shop is almost my favourite American supermarket now) and an early evening as we had a “long journey to make” tomorrow. We moved over to the other side of the bay for a quick getaway in the morning and because it would be more comfortable in the wind direction. Over there, there are two house structures built on floating platforms, my kind of place. One had a forty foot sail boat moored up alongside. Bliss.

my dream

Everything was timed today so that we could get through the Cape Cod Canal with the tide so we lifted anchor about 1030am and sailed across the wide expanse that I felt we knew very well by now. The wind was right behind us so a preventer and pole were rigged and we goose winged toward Sandwich (more or less) at a good speed amusing ourselves on the way by watching a boat which had left the anchorage well before us. The captain couldn’t make up his mind what was the best point of sail to adopt. One minute he was on port tack, the next on starboard then ten minutes later back on port. Once he spotted us goose winging, he tried that but to no avail. To be honest we soon realised why, the wind changed dramatically and we put away the sails as we approached the canal entrance. We motored through the canal and over to an anchorage on Wings Bay which we had used the previous week. It was as lovely as I remembered it to be and at sunset, we were treated to another firework display from across the peninsula as good if not better than the one we attended on the 4^th.

Cape Cod Canal

Next morning, we motored round to Marion slowly. There was no rush as nothing could be done till Tuesday morning. We were assigned a buoy amongst thousands and settled in for the afternoon. The boat yard thoughtfully had a courtesy launch so there was no need to let loose the dinghy and we took a slow stroll through town, found a very upmarket supermarket and a very good ice cream shop with two people serving. I must have looked hungrier than Lionel because my tub was about a third fuller than his. Flavours called purple cow and moose footprints were on offer. They were excellent. Marion is a very affluent town with a private school, Tabor Academy, which has extensive buildings and grounds. The emphasis is on outdoor living so we didn’t feel like a spectacle walking around the town as we usually are made to feel. Henry James, the author was born here. The boat yard was clean, tidy and offered everything that a cruiser would need. However, it was definitely not a DIY boatyard. All the storage we could see was indoors so it would be expensive to leave a boat here over the winter.

Tuesday dawned and the surveyor turned up and examined Ruby. He banged and nodded, looked at instruments and banged a bit more. His prognosis was Ruby was fine. There was not cracks or ripples and there was no reason to lift her out. You could feel the audible sigh that the news brought. We thanked him profusely, went alongside to fill with fuel and water and settled our bill promptly then left for Provincetown again. What was the hurry? Firstly, we need a favourable tide to get through the canal again and secondly, and more importantly, there was a weather window coming up that meant we could get up to Nova Scotia in one hop instead of taking the long way up the Maine coast which was good news as we were already behind schedule. We had wanted to spend Canada Day in Nova Scotia and that was 8 days ago. The sailing season in Nova Scotia is short and the weather can be very fickle so every good day has to be taken advantage of. There was very little wind and what wind was against us so we never even took the sails out and motored the 40 odd miles across to Provincetown again, dropping the anchor in time for Lionel’s afternoon nap. I checked the weather again for the umpteenth time.

Cape Cod road bridge

A passage across the Gulf of Maine is only about 250 miles but it cannot be taken lightly. It is out on the Atlantic and by past experience we knew how swiftly the wind and waves can change out there. We also had tides and currents to contend with. Using Predict Wind the optimum time to leave was 7pm tomorrow evening which meant we would have two nights at sea but, we would definitely be arriving in daylight to navigate into the sound where Shelburne is. I looked for an alternative but found none so it was going to be two nights and one day at sea.

We had a rather lazy morning the next day, catching up with admin stuff and correspondence. To be absolutely clear about what we were going to be doing in the next month we went through it day by day, marking off where we would need mooring buoys and pontoons to tie up on. Going by the prices published on various websites it was far cheaper than USA for marinas and buoys so we thought we might take advantage of that. All the emails were sent and people notified about our intentions and we had a cup of tea feeling smug. It’s not very often we are in organised harmony but it happened that morning. Yet another visit to the supermarket and a last walk around the town. This place is becoming like our American Tobermory, every voyage leads us there so I don’t think it will be the last time we visit.

We upped anchor at 0705pm and set sail to Nova Scotia. There was no point in faffing about so it was right into watches with Lionel on watch and me sleeping. We were expecting a 15 knot wind just behind the beam and we got it that night. My attempt to put in the first reef woke Lionel and he helped me achieve that. Dodging fishing boats is always a good sport but the ones we spotted on this passage were very well behaved and stayed at least a mile away. On the second night I spotted about seven lights on my starboard side, only two of them were showing on AIS as fishing boats. We were fast approaching the Canadian border and it was obvious that they wanted to cross and be on my port side. I watched carefully the ones on the AIS. They organised themselves with one of the boats showing AIS at the front and the other at the rear. The first boat motored across my bow, maybe a mile and a half away. Not close enough to give me any concern. He achieved his objective and I could just imagine him radioing the rest, “ok, boys, its safe, they don’t panic”. They all crossed one by one with the last boat being the other one with AIS. That’s organisation for you or it could just have been coincidence. The wind got up to about 18 knots on the second night, I was glad I persuaded Lionel to put in the second reef before he went down at 11pm. I put away some of the jib and Ruby sailed like a Princess, hitting 8.5 knots on occasions and averaging 6.9 knots overall. I had been so busy watching the antics of fishing boats I hadn’t realised out course had changed and we were being swept into the land by the current from the Bay of Fundy. I adjusted it considerably. The speed was decreasing as well, although the wind was the same strength. For about two hours I had 3.5knots of current against me. Not good. Of course, at 5am, when Lionel came on watch the current had decreased and the speed increased. He did have some tricky navigation to complete to avoid the buoys along the coast as we were nearer land than we intended to be at this point but he managed…. my hero. We anchored in Shelburne on 12^th July at 1255pm, 42 hours passage, average speed 6.9 knots. It’s amazing what can be achieved on a flat sea with a good wind on the beam. Well done us. Sleep please.

looking back to the mouth of the bay from Shelburne

Sleep was not to be had. Lionel had hoisted the yellow, quarantine flag as we turned into the bay. This means that we are not checked into the country where we are sailing. He telephoned the number and spoke to a very nice customs lady who asked lots of questions then decided we needed a visit from her colleagues. Would we please tie up at the yacht club? We radioed the club and explained the situation and they saw no problem with us tying up on the outside of their long pontoon.

Shelburne Yacht Club

 Once we had achieved this, we decided to have lunch before the officers appeared as we had stories of fresh food being confiscated and destroyed. That arrived about an hour later, asked us lots of questions, filled in lots of paper work, stamped our passports, gave us our cruising licence number which was to be shown in a window at all times, wished us well and left. That was our welcome to Canada. Quick, efficient and friendly. Off we went to anchor again and sleep. Goodnight.

we are in Canada

As others see us...

Two Albertans in search of their sea legs…

Today is June 28.  Nearly two months ago, we had the experience of a lifetime aboard Ruby Tuesday in the Bahamas.  The fact that this blog is being written so long afterward is a testimony to the messy busyness of our daily lives.  We have had many moments of reflection in the past two months on the purpose of this endless striving.  While we are landlocked in Calgary (home to cows, Christians, and country music), we are fervent outdoor people and the Rocky Mountains are on our doorstep.  We take full advantage of fabulous hiking, skiing, and climbing when we can tear ourselves away from work.  However, nearly every summer since our children were in diapers, we escaped to the west coast and took to our kayaks.  The ocean feels truly liberating, with life simplified to what you can carry and time marked by sunrise, sunset, wind and weather..…with the opportunity to untether from the quotidian shackles and blow the dust of everyday life off the soul (to paraphrase Picasso).  I had an inkling that sailing would be a natural extension of this experience, on a larger canvas.   I was correct.

Elsie and Lionel have much to teach us of the fine art of living well and we are lucky to have joined them, on their journey, albeit briefly.  In a fit of enthusiasm, I took a week long sailing course more than a decade ago but, much to my disappointment, the other participants were more interested in getting to the nearest port and bar as early in the day as possible.  Elsie and Lionel are real sailors, as I knew they would be.  We observed a purposeful efficiency to the daily routines aboard dear Ruby and a comfortable sharing of duties and negotiated decision-making – shake out one reef or two?  genoa or no genoa? anchor here one day or two?  As newbies, we tried to stay out of the way as much as possible.  I think Lionel may have wished to cast us overboard only once or twice.  I could be mistaken.  The first day was an inauspicious start.  With unfavourable winds we motored to our first anchorage and Ruby pitched and rolled, humbling the landlubbers into spending that day flat on deck, gripping the lee rail with grim determination, retching our innards out.  Elsie looked concerned.  Lionel’s expression was more judgemental.  However!  In spite of a rough first night in the aft cabin, rolling and bumping into each other like two running shoes in a washing machine, we recovered for day 2 and the rest of the trip.  Albert, in spite of his inherent resistance to flaky, new-agey therapies, concluded that the wrist bands do work perfectly, as long as they are put on before the boat is moving, not after one is afflicted.  Once recovered, and interested in learning to work the boat, we watched and clumsily tried to assist.  It did take me (engineer and mathematician) two days to work out the function of the topping lift.   Lionel, ever patient:  “take in the main sheet please….no, the other side…No, the Other line….yes, clockwise around the winch.  I’m sure we learned something, even if we are not yet capable of commandeering a toy sailboat on a calm pond. 

I had the fantastic opportunity of getting up with Elsie to sail at night.  Complete magic.  Ruby performed a graceful, swooping corkscrew dance on the water, and you felt as if you could touch the star blanket overhead.  In my mind I heard a favourite piece of music:  Metamorphosis by Philip Glass.  Tranquil, meditative, surreal.   I was spirited away.   Ruby is a beauty.  She is so wonderfully designed for us unsteady bipeds.  I kept discovering new spots to wedge into comfortably while underway.  She is never silent – I miss the gentle squeak of her rudder at night and the special swish and gurgle when she is settled into a broad reach. 

Today, finally, work is done and I have just packed a sea-bag for our forthcoming kayaking trip to Prince Rupert (long underwear, pile pants and jacket, woolly hat, foul weather gear) and I am fondly remembering swimming and snorkelling in bathwater-warm turquoise ocean.  Hmm.  We will be paddling down the outside passage from Prince Rupert to Klemtu and then taking the inside passage ferry back.  I insisted to Albert that we make a trip plan, with charts, marine radio, and a ferry booking.   Not show up and 'wing it' like a pair of ageing teenagers, like we normally do.  So, he made a plan.  And now we must hustle and bend to our paddles (20 nm per day) to catch the once weekly ferry in Klemtu on July 13.  Hmm.  These wilderness trips are, of course, wonderful and unique experiences in themselves but they most definitely do not include the pleasures of Elsie’s daily sundowner rum punches, warm breezes, and spending the day on deck in shorts and a T-shirt.

Would I go sailing again?  Unequivocally yes, at the drop of a hat.  Albert?  The mountain guide is still somewhat conflicted.  I still jump into action if the water is left running anywhere in the house………

June 2019

In which we cruise up the New England coast, with a side trip to NYC.

We started June anchored in Newport, Rhode Island.  On Saturday, 1^st, we went for a long walk along Belle View Avenue and back along the cliff walk, exiting at 40 steps.  Sunday dawned foggy, so we waited for that to clear before heading ashore then walked to the northern end of the cliff walk to complete it, only to find that it was still foggy here.  Also, being Sunday, the world and his yappy dog had the same idea so we cut it short and returned to base.  On Monday, it was time to head up river.  We picked up at 10:15 and, with 1 reef in for a WNW’ly F4 sailed through the bridge.  Passing Cananicut Island the wind dropped and we were tempted to shake the reef out.  It was well to resist this as, as soon as we cleared it the wind increased to F5 and we had to put in a second so it was a spirited sail up to Goddard memorial State Park, dropping anchor at 13:20.

Anchor up at 09:00 on Tuesday and motored the couple of miles to Apponaug to be hauled out.  As before, they were very helpful and we were soon high, dry and ready for some work. Tuesday and Wednesday were mostly spent scraping and rubbing down, badly needed with several layers of anti-fouling to come off.  There were also a couple of other jobs to be done: draining and re-filling saildrive gearbox oil; replacing anode on propeller and freeing up bolts on steering gear so that I could take up some slack which had developed.  The boatyard helpfully loaned tools, an impact driver to remove to drain plug on the saildrive and a blowtorch to encourage movement of seized bolts on the steering quadrant.  These all accomplished, on Thursday we painted on the new anti-fouling and then packed and tidied, we were ready to leave Ruby on Friday.

 I needed to make one of my periodic visits to Scotland, to see Mr Lowe, the surgeon who had operated on me 5 years before and Elsie had arranged a house sit at New Rochelle, NY, to keep her entertained in my absence.  Public transport being as it is, in the States, I had hired a car for the trip down and used it to top up the propane cylinder before departure.  We then had a not very pleasant drive down the I95 but a much more pleasant welcome on arrival.  The house was very comfortable and our hosts, also sailors, took us out to dinner at their posh club.  Despite us putting on our best clothes (I even ironed my shirt!) we attracted a few side-long glances, but that didn’t put us off our very strong rum cocktails and dinner.  Interesting conversation – despite being life-long sailors, they were of the racing, rather than cruising, kind and had difficulty with envisaging sailing overnight on long passages.  They dropped us off at their house, then returned to the club and their moored motor yacht, on which they were setting off the following day for a river cruise.

While Elsie took the dog, Huck, out for his evening walk, I read the welcome notes in which it mentioned to be aware that he had a tendency to pick up bones.  Sure enough, he returned with one in his mouth.  Elsie couldn’t get him to drop it.  Could I?  I tried.  Growl.  Tried again. Snap, and a large hole appeared in the back of my left hand.  It was now 10 O’clock on a Friday evening, in America, with notoriously high healthcare costs and our medical insurance is only for hospitalisation and repatriation, not minor injuries. We sought advice from our hosts, by phone, but their preferred clinic was closed, so it was off to the local hospital.  As an ambulance would, no doubt cost hundreds of dollars, I decided to drive myself.  Our car was in the garage, which I knew how to open from the outside but not the inside. After a fruitless search for the relevant button, we used the emergency pull cord and drove out.  We now had to close the roller door. Again, I had to resort to ‘manual’ and, in my haste managed to trap a finger and heard the crunch of bone. Things did improve a bit after this as, marvellously, the local administration had a policy of paying medical costs for dog bites (they don’t want them unreported) but, by the time I had been treated and collected a prescription, it was 2 the following morning before we got to bed.  As I was flying out the following night, the fact that this was 7 AM UK time was relevant. On Saturday, I did indeed fly out for a scarce week in Scotland, leaving Elsie to have a great cultural week in The Big Apple.  I flew back in the following Friday, allowing me a day of culture at MOMA then, with another hire car, we returned to Ruby on Sunday 16^th.

Street art NYC

Our plan had been to have a fairly relaxing day on Monday and launch on Tuesday morning.  A look at the weather forecast showed that Tuesday was likely to be very wet so, with car available, we dashed out to do a big shop and prepared for a Monday morning launch.  Once again, the yard proved flexible and we were back in the water by 10:30.  We motored back to our anchorage at the park to check and top up the gearbox oil then it was off to Newport taking advantage of the ebb tide.  For about 4 miles.  Then something made me check bilges to discover that the engine was blowing out its coolant.  Back to the anchorage.  Wait for it to cool down.  Top up.  Run engine for 20 minutes. Then, cautiously, set off again.  This time, the coolant stayed where it should be and we made it back to Newport at 18:00.  Tuesday was, as predicted, fairly horrible so we just sheltered.  On Wednesday, we managed a few jobs, including replacing a hose on the salt water cooling system and installing plugs, that Elsie’s brother had kindly made, into the boarding ladder to, hopefully, stop it trying to eat our new dinghy. We had hoped to move on East on Thursday but again the weather was foul so we delayed.

We eventually got away on the Saturday morning, hoisting sail at 09:00 in a NW’ly F4 to broad reach down the river, gybe and continue along the coast, almost to the entrance of the Cape Cod Canal.  We anchored in Wings cove at 15:45, hoping for a relaxing end to the day.  It was not to be asst arrival checks showed that, once again, the engine was blowing out cooling water.  As we would have to motor through the canal, we could continue no further until this was fixed. We would receive no assistance the following day, it being Sunday so I would have plenty of time to play before handing the problem over to someone competent.  Once things had cooled down sufficiently, I started retracing steps and removed t he ‘boot’ on the end of the heat exchanger, where I had found debris weeks earlier.  The solution (I hoped) was in front of me.  The raw water and ‘fresh’ water cooling systems are separated here by the ‘boot’ being gripped on a bronze seal.  If this had not been done up tight enough…  Cleaned, tightened, run.  A few drips only – hurrah. 

Storm front, Wings Bay.

The tidal current through the canal determined our start on Sunday. It would turn in our favour at 09:00 so we readied at 8, gave the engine a good run and set off at 08:30.  We hoisted , reefed, sail before entering, just in case we had to shut down in a hurry and proceeded through at 1800 RPM, so as to not put too much stress on our still suspect engine. This gave us a speed through the water of about 5 ½ knots though, with a following wind and a building current, we saw 10 knots at times.  This was not quite enough to keep ahead of a following pusher tug and barge and we had to pull over to let them pass with about a mile to go.  Once clear of the canal we hoisted full sail, stopped the engine and accelerated away at 8 knots with a F3-4 on the beam.  This got us into Provincetown at 15:00 and we anchored just off the eastern end of the inner breakwater at the Town.  This time, there were no nasty surprises so we took what we thought was a well-earned rest.  On Monday, 24^th, we had a long stroll around the town in the morning and a shorter one to the supermarket in the afternoon.  As the wind was forecast to go southerly overnight, we picked up anchor and motored over to the town float for water (paid for with quarters in a slot – we paid $3 for about 50 gallons) then to the south of the harbour for a more comfortable berth for the night.  Looking ahead to the following day, it seemed that we would get a good sail over to Boston but could expect rain and, maybe, thunderstorms any time after 14:00.  We, accordingly, rose at 5 and were under way at 05:35.  We started with full plain sail but once we were sure that the wind was steady S3, brought out the cruising chute and had a great broad reach across. The wind started to die with about 8 miles to go so, with rain approaching, we put away the chute and reverted to motor-sailing under main and genoa.

Sunset, Provincetown

Boston harbour is a huge expanse but nor really welcoming to visiting yachts.  I glanced at marinas and saw that we could expect to pay anything from $150 – 280 per night, way above our budget.  There were no other anchored yachts but we had information showing where others had stopped in the past.  This gave conflicting advice so we worked out where we thought we would be least in the way – on the north side, clear of all commercial activity.  That evening, a coastguard boat stopped by.  I had put a flashing light in the cockpit to make us more conspicuous, and he objected to that, but not our position.  Two mornings later, the harbourmaster’s launch called by – his colleague had stopped the previous evening and wanted us to move (we had been on board).  He saw no problem, himself.  That evening, just as we were about to have dinner, said colleague arrived, siren blaring and shouted at us through his bullhorn.  We were to move to his designated spot, almost opposite the fuel dock, where we would be in the way of queueing ferries.  His harbour, we moved. The lack of provision for visitors extends to landing places for a dinghy.  There is one finger pier with space for a boat on each side.  One side is limited to 30 minutes; the other to 4 hours.  As each usually had a, hard, boat moored, we just snuck to the inshore end and tied to a cleat but it wouldn’t work if several dinghies wanted to park.

Boston by night

While in Boston, we took in some of the local history.  On Wednesday, we took a walking tour of the downtown area with an entertaining, and quite informative, guide.  A slow stroll back along the route took us to the ‘Cheers’ bar where we lunched and took photos, along with most of the clientele. 

Cheerts!

Thursday morning, we toured the State House (the ‘Parliament’ building for the state) once past a very easy security check, we were allowed to roam almost at will and had a guided tour with a very quietly spoken and somewhat confused guide. Lunch was a hotdog in the park, accompanied by some nice, easy, light jazz, then off for another tour in the afternoon t o look at some of the sites relevant to African American history in the town.  On Friday, we self-guided our way out through the north side of the town, past Paul Revere’s house and church to Bunker Hill, where the British won the opening battle of the war of independence but not convincingly enough to deter the colonials from continuing.  Down the hill, we visited the naval museum but missed out on visiting the historic ships as time was getting on.

Bunker Hill memorial

Our plan was still to get up to Canada as soon as practicable, but the weather was not co-operating.  The wind was either light or from ahead.  It looked, however, as though we might get a 24-hour slot of sailable wind starting on Saturday morning.  In order to take advantage of this, we picked up anchor at 16:20 on Friday and headed out to shorten our voyage by 10 miles or so.  At first, we had light wind right ahead but, once clear of the harbour, we were able to put it on the bow and hoisted full sail.  As we did so, the auto-pilot tripped out on low voltage (even though the batteries were fully charged).  Checking to battery monitor showed wildly fluctuating voltage and the charge controller was dark. We immediately shut down the engine to investigate.  Nothing obviously wrong and at the, second, re-start the problem disappeared.  Fingers crossed it was a one-off glitch but, when time permits, I will do a thorough investigation of wiring.  The wind built and veered, to give us a beam reach and 8 knots, so we passed by our intended stop and continued on to Marblehead.  This shallow bay is 2 miles long X ½ mile wide so you would think there would be plenty of space to anchor.  The entire area is, however, covered with over 2300 moorings.  The plan was to creep past the ‘no wake’ buoys and drop the hook before the mooring field.  Being New England, even this space was taken by fishing floats but, after a little searching, we found just enough space, anchored and tidied up.  A helpful local stopped by and told us that, as it was now 8 PM, we could take a club mooring.  As thunderstorms were forecast, we took this option and had a late supper.  A quick check of the weather showed that our hoped-for window had disappeared and we could only expect about 4 hours of wind around the middle of the following day.   While taking the mooring made us more secure in the event of strong winds, they completely died in the night and I was woken by the tump, tump, tump of the mooring buoy on the bow.  Oh well.

We woke to the sound of thunder and a sailing wind so let go at 07:20.  The first couple of hours went well and we hoped for a decent distance but, at the time the wind was forecast to start, it died so we popped into Rockport harbour and anchored in Sandy Bay. As usual, there were many fishing floats but we found a big space to anchor and had a lazy afternoon.   I was woken at midnight by a grating sound.  Fortunately, this came not from the keel but the anchor cable which must have wrapped itself round a rock.  Winds were light so we left it until morning, then shifted closer to the old harbour.  After a leisurely breakfast, we dinghied ashore and strolled round this very touristy town.  We passed on the tarot readings and lobster rolls but did manage to locate a grocery and a laundromat.  Ashore again in the afternoon to take advantage of the latter so, with nearly full fuel and water tanks ad clean clothes, we are ready to head up to Canada.  What could possibly go wrong?

June Stats: 

Over Ground   194
Log                  212

May 2019

In which we say goodbye to the Caribbean for another season and head up the East coast of the USA.

May started with us, including Albi and Di, at Warderick Wells in the Exumas. The winds and showers of the previous day had abated and we went for a good walk down the island, pausing to re-instate our driftwood tribute at Booboo Hill. In the afternoon, Albi, Di and I went for another snorkelling trip to the Emerald Rock area. Again wonderful with an amazing variety of fish and corals. On Thursday, we let go late morning and sailed, under genoa only, downwind to Norman cay. As we arrived, the chart plotter turned itself off. And on. And off again. Fortunately, I had charts on my phone and was able to navigate in. Experimentation showed that the plotter was completely unusable so I dug out the spare, which didn’t display AIS. We would just have to do without that. The anchorage was comfortable enough but not spectacular. On Friday we had an earlier start and sailed, alternately broad reaching and goose-winged almost to Nassau, turning just a couple of miles short to anchor at Rose Island beach. This seemed crowded but, as 4 O’clock chimed, most of the tourist boats disappeared and we were able to work our way into a prime spot. From here we swam across to the fringing reef and spent an hour or so drifting along it for another wonderful display.

Saturday dawned and it was the end of our guests’ holiday. We motored into Nassau harbour and dropped them off at a fuel dock, then headed north east up to Egg Island at the top of Eleuthera. With the wind blowing at 12 – 15 knots from the south east, we had a perfect beam reach and, as we were following the line of the Eleutheran fringing reef, we had flat seas. Bliss. The shelter at Egg Island wasn’t as great as we had hoped but rigging a bridle on the anchor cable kept us head to swell and made for a comfortable night. We were up at dawn on Sunday for the 50 mile leg to Little Harbour. We made slow but steady progress, initially under full plain sail, then with Main and cruising chute, with a following F3. The tide was flooding on arrival so we had a smooth entrance. We couldn’t work our way in far enough at our intended spot so continued 4 miles further north to anchor in the lee of Lynard cay. There were several other boats there but we managed to find a secluded spot. On Monday, we motored the twenty miles to Marsh Harbour and anchored while I got my diving cylinder filled and we went for provisions at Maxwell’s, the biggest supermarket in the Bahamas. We got a little carried away and bought rather more fresh meat, fruit and dairy than we could reasonably eat between here and the USA, where imports of these are banned but at least we wouldn’t go short on voyage. A further 5 miles of motoring took us to Archers Cay to anchor for possibly our last night in the Bahamas this year. Today was the fifth anniversary of my operation. At the time of diagnosis, I was told that my chances of surviving this long were about 20%, so we had a little celebration, with a bottle of wine to wash down dinner. The celebrations were cut short by a plague of flying ants suddenly arriving and infesting the saloon. Much spraying of insecticide and sweeping up of ants ensued.

As always with a long voyage in prospect, we had been watching the weather closely. A good slot had come and gone a week before. We couldn’t take it not only because we had guests on board but we would have been in the period of purdah after the expiry of our previous American Cruising Permit. Another slot was approaching. Not ideal, they seldom are, but we might be able to break the back of our northern passage, getting as far as Beaufort N.C. or even Norfolk, Va. The forecast was for light winds to start with and maybe for a while in the middle but we might be able to get past Cape Hatteras without gales, headwinds or having to traverse the Intra Coastal Waterway, saving 4 days of motoring. Another early start to motor the 35 miles to Spanish Cay, our last possible fuel stop, only to find that we had to wait while they took fuel from a barge. I was in two minds whether to continue, both because of the delay and because their tanks would be stirred up, possibly contaminating the diesel. I figured that, as there was a long distance from tanks to pump, we would be getting our fuel from what was already in the pipeline and we had a leisurely lunch, getting away after 1600. This only just gave us time to exit at Shroud Cay in daylight but we managed it and settled for heading north using motor assistance in light easterly winds. Surprisingly, these freshened and we were able to stop the engine and be sailing by sunset.

We hoped to gain assistance from the Gulf Stream but, to begin with it was too far to our west. It then swung east, so we decided to head directly north to intercept it, 300 miles away and, hopefully, hitch a ride all the way to Hatteras. The first night we made slow but steady progress, then had to put a reef in for the next 24 hours as the wind increased. On Thursday afternoon, the wind died to a F2 and, to make our ‘slot’ we motor assisted. The wind increased again overnight and by midnight we were feeling the effects of the Gulf Stream which gave us a nice push as we turned to follow it but more motor assistance was required on Friday. We turned north again on Saturday morning, broad reaching towards the entrance of the Chesapeake. As we followed the coast, the wind veered and gave Elsie a great F4 beam reach through her night watch. We passed the Chesapeake bridge at 08:00 on Sunday, dropped sails at 10:15 and motored up the Elizabeth river to berth on a private dock, owned by the OCC port officers, Greta and Gary, at 12:30. These lovely people not only provided us with somewhere to stay but gave us lifts to fill our propane cylinder and other shopping. Greta even did our laundry, not an enviable task given the state of it after nearly a week at sea. Immigration came to visit us that afternoon and I went round to the local CBP office on Monday morning to obtain a new Cruising licence for Ruby. This time, I made sure that it was only valid for 8 months, so that we would not have to delay re-entering the States as we did this year.

Customs House, Norfolk

It had been a poor spring on this coast and the temperature dropped again overnight so we were walking around in jackets, long trousers and shoes with socks which all felt very uncomfortable. We also had to dig out the duvet and even ran the central heating on Monday evening. Getting the chart plotter fixed was a priority, as we find AIS invaluable. What I wanted was to combine the good bits of our two plotters to make one that worked. A local company couldn’t do that but sold us yet another one that did. I called Pete, the man from Oriental that worked with us there. He thought that he could fix the on/off button problem so I sent that set off to him. The VHF radio, which hadn’t been receiving for 6 months, was sent to Standard Horizon in California for them to fix. Each of these required walking twice to the post office: once to obtain a box, bubble wrap, etc and once to post. As it was 1 ½ miles each way, we got plenty of exercise. Having got these, and a few other little, jobs done we took some time for sight seeing, including the nautical museum and the battleship Wisconsin.

Again, we were watching the weather, hoping for a good slot to sail up the coast, hopefully as far as New York. Several twelve to twenty four hour periods looked possible but it seemed that if we left Chesapeake bay on Sunday morning we might get all the way. We had farewell drinks with Gary and Greta on the dock on Friday evening, then went for a valedictory American breakfast on Saturday morning at a diner – stack of ‘cakes, eggs bacon and maple syrup. To catch the tidal currents, we left the dock at 12:30 and motored down to the bridge, anchoring in the lee of one of the islands where it changes to a tunnel. The forecast had now changed to give a sailing wind that evening so, after a little rest and a good meal, we picked up at 19:30 and headed out.

The tide had now changed and we had to battle it for the first few hours crossing the mouth of the bay. As soon as we had cleared it, the wind veered and we were now on a broad reach and we continued, either broad reaching or goose-winged running, for the next 24 hours. Fog descended on us in the small hours of Sunday and stayed for 24 hours, making us very thankful for the AIS and radar, though there was little traffic. On Monday morning, as we passed up the coast of New Jersey, came another decision point. If we turned 20 degrees to port, we could be at Atlantic Highlands, the gateway to New York, in 6 hours; 20 to Starboard and we could be in Block Island, gateway to Rhode Island in 24. We had time to spare but, given how long it might take us to negotiate New York and Long Island Sound, we opted for the latter.

A month earlier, when servicing the main engine, I had had to replace the impeller for the raw water pump as blades were missing but had never got round to finding and removing them. This bit of laziness now bit as, on starting the engine to charge batteries, no water emerged from the exhaust and it quickly over-heated. Out with the portable generator which, fortunately started first time.

I was wakened on Tuesday by the sound of Elsie taking reefs out of the mainsail, as the wind had dropped. This proved to be only temporary and had to soon put one back in. As we approached our destination and I considered how to drop the main without using the engine, the wind suddenly increased further to 30 knots so I quickly went from one to three reefs, almost solving that problem. When it came to dropping the last bit, it came down neatly enough on a close reach. We entered Great Salt Pond at Block Island under a small amount of genoa, starting the engine only once inside to lower and set the anchor. A few hours rest, then a tidy up and investigation of the engine. The missing impeller blades were found in the heat exchanger and the cooling system was working again. The sun was shining and the temperature was, supposedly 17 C, but it felt might cold to us and we snuggled down with the heating on that night.

We stayed 2 nights at Salt Pond. We didn’t go ashore but shared evening drinks with Connie and Tony, a Canadian couple on a 38 ft Wauquiez, Sage. On the 23^rd, there was a nice SW’ly F4-5 so we headed downwind to Newport under just the Jib. We spent the rest of the month here, just enjoying the views of beautiful boats, having walks ashore and another American diner breakfast at Bishop’s. It being Memorial Day weekend, there were specials on at the supermarket, including fresh lobster at $6.99 a pound so we made pigs of ourselves with that, stuffed clams, king prawns… I also experimented with making American style breakfasts on board with bacon, eggs and pancakes with syrup. A good start to the day, but no lunch required.

Bishops Diner

On Friday 31^st, we took a bus up to Providence, about 30 miles away. We had intended to do a self guided walking tour but the ap wasn’t working well so instead we went to the state art museum which is located at the college of design. This had an eclectic mix if everything from pharoic Egypt to video installations, by way of byzantine art, impressionists, 19^th century furniture and patchwork quilts. There were also a couple of exhibitions of silverware and picture printing methods.  I guess if you were taking someone who is never going to another museum it covers all the bases. 2 Monets, 2 Picassos, 2 Rodins, etc. We agreed on the return journey that we have been spoiled by seeing some of the greatest pieces of art at so many major galleries and are now disappointed when we are in the presence of something not quite top rate.

Monthly stats

Over Ground    1296
Log                   1045