A Long Weekend in Maiden Arm, Part One
Maiden Arm, in Hare Bay, was a favourite spot when we stopped here last year. It was tranquil, secluded and our wildlife sightings were extraordinary. Moose, seals, several caribou strolling the shore quite close to where we anchored.
We arrived on Thursday about lunch time, after the short sail from St. Julien’s. Short motor-sail on a very flat sea. Fortunately flat so when the minke whale blew just feet from our starboard side, less than a boat length from the bow, he was easily seen - too easy actually - too close! I warned Harald and veered to port to avoid a collision. The whale, along with two more, surfaced just behind us. This is a picture that will stay with me for a long time.
The newsworthy ice berg in Hare Bay has now broken into at least two large sections. One is floating just outside of the bay in the open water. We believe the other was quite far off shore and very visible when we left St. Julien’s.
I take us through the narrow passage of an s-curve, passed Death’s Head Island, and into the inner basin. Dozens of puffins flit just above the water ahead of us. We drop the anchor and wait for the wildlife parade. The weather looks unsettled but we do not get any rain.
Lion’s Mane Jellyfish
The first in the lineup is the purple and orange jellyfish we have been seeing in other harbours. (Lion’s Mane. Thanks Ann!) There are a dozen or more swimming around the boat: swimming sideways with tentacles streaming behind and then surfacing with their jelly-like bodies just breaking the water’s surface. From a distance it resembles inflated baggies floating and then diving. This continues all day but is most easily seen in the early morning and at dusk. My curiosity is peaked. This will require some research so I better understand their behaviour.
My stomach is still a bit off so I nap in the afternoon and then make Naan bread for tuna melts for supper. Harald reads and goes for a short dinghy row around the basin.
There is a steady breeze all day which eventually turns to the south putting our anchored position where we had originally planned based on the forecast. The tide is over four feet so the view in the basin changes four times every twenty-four hours. The shoreline at low tide is stunning in the sunlight with the golden coloured seaweed lining the rocks. This all disappears when the tide comes back in but the view is still spectacular.
There are two hills on the north side, beyond the rocks and trees. These are rounded and covered in low scrub, grey rock and lichen. The very scene where we expect caribou to roam.
Late in the afternoon we are joined by Rosita, a fifty-five foot boat from Boston. We had heard of her being in the area when friend Bob Flynn mentioned docking with her in Fleur de Lys. She drops her anchor in the middle of the basin and we don’t see the occupants until the next morning. We hesitate to dinghy over when it appears they could be resting.
About noon Friday morning, Rosita is on the move and Michael and Hanna hover near us to have a chat. They sailed from Boston in late June and are more than half way through their circumnavigation of Newfoundland. From here they continue north and around Cape Bauld and Cape Norman, down the Strait of Belle Island, through the Gulf of St. Lawrence, around Cape Breton, south of Nova Scotia and home to Boston. I calculate about 1000 nautical miles to go.
This is not their first circumnavigation of Newfoundland. They have sailed all over the world with their four sons but are now like us, just the two of them. They mention there are drawbacks to having such a large boat but it’s “home” and they won’t trade her now for anything else.
They are heading to Salmon Cove and then to St. Anthony to pick up a guest crewman. Michael asks me about where to dock there. I can only share the information from other sailing friends: the government wharf is condemned but they will still take your $10 per night if you dock there!
Michael is very familiar with whales and their behaviour. I tell him about our little encounter with the minke and he says “they know where you are”. (We later learn that he has penned a book “We Are All Whalers”.)
CBC radio has been running a feature on whales in the area. The orcas seem to be getting a lot of attention and they are in this area where we will be when we head back south. Friends have seen them there. Fortunately they don’t seem to be copying the behaviour of those killer whales in Spain and Portugal, “attacking” and ramming the keels and rudders of sailboats.
Our real fun begins on Friday afternoon. We have been puttering at small tasks: airing the linens, sorting and taking inventory of our dry goods and Harald installs our second fire blanket.
He also checks the oil and the filters but when he replaces the cap on the raw water intake filter, a screw securing the cap breaks in half. I am in the cockpit but the moan and the sigh is quite audible.
Harald is a clear thinker and can work through problems with calm and logic. I try to support best I can as he finds a way to secure the cap with wire and electrical ties. Success! When I start the engine, the cap holds and no water leaks from it. But I notice there is also no water coming out the exhaust in the transom. Not good. We cannot run the engine without water running through it.
Mechanic Jim is enjoying the weekend at his cabin but is very helpful, virtually by way of text messages. Phone calls drop after just a few words of instruction.
I remember Bob needed help when the Coast Guard towed him to St. Anthony from Labrador, so I message him asking for the name of the mechanic he accessed just a few weeks ago. The name and number are waiting for me when I wake up on Saturday morning.
I remember the ladies we met at the Garden Party in Conche last Sunday. One of them lives in Goose Cove where we know there is a mechanic with the Coast Guard. I didn’t get their names, but I have been in contact with Fay, who we also met at the Garden Party. Perhaps she knows them. The reply comes back that they do not know them but that Newfoundlanders are always eager to assist when they can. In fact, the story telling after assisting strangers can go on for a “very loooooong time”.
It is at this point that I am grateful for the people we have met, connections with small towns and social media for the ongoing updates from sailing friends.
We play out all the scenarios:
We are in a safe and protected harbour
The weather is fine
We have food and still a full tank of water
We are in no rush
The Coast Guard is just 15 nautical miles away in St. Anthony
There is a mechanic in St. Anthony and in Goose Cove
How do we get there?
Can the Coast Guard cutter access us through the narrow passage and tow us out?
Harald continues the troubleshooting after we enjoy a short dinghy tour around the bay. We see an osprey, a heron, greater yellowlegs, a young moose and a young caribou.
Two fishing boats come into the anchorage and one comes near enough for a conversation. It is a small tour boat from Main Brook, just west of here. “Ray” the tour operator is quite responsive when I tell him our problem with the engine. He assures me the Coast Guard would have no problem getting us out.
But what would stop the water from running through and out the exhaust?
Harald removes the water hose to the fresh water and finds a small piece of rubber stuck in the metal housing. I suggest we use the vacuum and in a few seconds, the piece is out. It is definitely a blade from an impeller.
Impeller was the next step so he begins the process of removing and replacing. Hope abounds but the mystery continues when he finds the old impeller is fully intact. He replaces it with a new one and we can only assume, this piece of rubber has been rogue for several years. Why it decided to appear now is a mystery but we are also pleased that we didn’t overheat the engine while we were cruising in the open water.
I start up the engine and we screech with delight as water gushes from the exhaust as it should. We celebrate with beer and nachos.
It is at this time I spot a dinghy sitting on the shoal behind us. Our dinghy.
