“Sailing is knowing where you are today but with no idea where you’ll be tomorrow”
Sunday dawns bright and early. We are becoming accustomed to the morning light before 5:00am. With the right conditions we are able to motor sail east today with our expected destination being Sainte Anne des Monts.
Conditions become more than we are wanting to tackle for 65 nautical miles, so we turn around and return just 3 short miles from Matane.
The guidebooks indicate that Matane was to have it’s harbour rebuilt with new docks, launch ramp and buildings complete for last year. Clearly, by their website, they have had extensive delay as we can have a slip, but no services and just one washroom is available for all boaters. There aren’t many and many boats are still on the hard.
The entrance is tricky as you can see in this photo. Basically, after running the channel you make an immediate left turn just prior to the spreaders touching the highway bridge! The highway is noisy, but groceries and fuel are close enough to walk to, with a cab ride back and we are happy to be off the water.
Early arrival means groceries can be purchased and stored before dinner, but we are delayed in our chores by some heavy rain and wind. Harald is beckoned to a nearby boat to help pull the owner up the mast as he has lost his halyard. The boat is 27’ with a couple and their two young boys aboard. (We meet up again in Sainte Anne des Monte and learn they are heading to Iles de la Madeleine.) Daniel explains to Harald that he had the help of two other dock mates who changed their minds about helping him when he was halfway up the mast! This is our chance to pay it forward so Harald willingly assists. We are happy to have met Daniel, Marianne and their two young boys. They added a bit of home for us as we interacted with the boys, so close in age to our own grandchildren.
Another sunny day and we’re off the dock before the tide drops and seeing our first fishing boats when we exit the channel at 8:45. Within an hour we have the main sail raised but with only 4 knots from the north, we have to motor sail…again. It is cool but we don’t need our toques.
I spot a small whale or harbour porpoise off the stern. Appears to have two dorsal fins so we think something small.
With 45 nautical miles to travel, we are glad for the flat water so we can see the debris, and once again there is plenty: logs big enough to see and too big to hit.
Such different conditions from the day before when we were in 25+ knot winds and fat 2 metre swells. The waves are different from what we’ve experienced in Georgian Bay. The troughs are deep and long and the waves are fat.
It’s amazing what a good sleep in a safe harbour and sunshine can do to the human psyche.
With no ships to worry about as we are 15 miles from the shipping lanes, we enjoy the company of the gannets of which we have become quite fond. Their sleek flight low over the water with their pointed wings with black tips and their creamy heads is so different from any other gulls. They drop headfirst into the water, often from a great height, creating a tremendous splash, resurfacing several seconds later with their prize catch in their long beaks.
We run the autohelm most of the day, taking turns reading and napping while the other mans the helm position.
Many small villages hug the shore, all with their own steepled church and strips of multi-coloured farmland rising behind their brightly coloured houses. As we near Mechin, however, the farmland disappears and is replaced with higher tree-filled hills. Wind farms abound from Mechin to Cap Chat and beyond.
By 4:00 we are passing between the two stone break walls, lining up with the twin spires of the church just behind the marina. Our first views of Sainte Anne des Monts tells us this is a special place.
