Spooky and Friendly Harbours
It is beginning to clear late in the day on Wednesday but we choose not to lower the dinghy for the shore visit. I really wanted to visit the waterfall we have been hearing since we arrived but this is not to be.
On My Perch
We have been visited by a pair of seals that prove quite distracting for an hour before I start supper. They have each found a rock, at low tide, where they lie appearing to be floating. The antics are quite entertaining. We do not want to start the engine on the dinghy and scare them away.
We eventually do have to run the generator, after our days without sun on our solar panels. Batteries are getting quite low. I turn off the fridge at intervals to conserve bits of energy at a time. The boat is in 12’C water so no chance of any quick thaws.
The following morning is sunny but a mackerel sky is forming. There will be weather changes in the next twenty-four hours.
It is nice having breakfast in the cockpit - muffins baked fresh yesterday. It would be easy to just sit and enjoy the day, but soon it is decision time: stay for that shore walk, or head further south before the expected four days of rain.
Common sense prevails and at 11:30 we are on our way, after quick and organized preparation. Passing by Green Island, there is no sign of the small trawler we saw swing into the little cove west of there yesterday. (We think this is the second time we may have arrived in their desired harbour before they did.)
It is 5 nautical miles (9km) from the anchorage, across Canada Bay to Canada Head. We say “good-bye” to Englee which appears quite quiet today. Only two fishing boats are in the bay.
Sun and cloud continues and it is cool on the water. The wind is 15-18 knots from the south, on our bow. We are in full coastal gear, boots, toques and gloves as we motor sail south toward Great Harbour Deep, in Orange Bay. The two metre swells begin to settle as we approach the entrance to Fourche Harbour.
We saw no ice and no whale spouts.
Another eleven nautical miles (20km) to our destination for the night. We have visited Great Harbour Deep on two other occasions, but only up the northwest channel to Soufflets Arm. This time we will anchor in the southwest arm near the abandoned community of Harbour Deep.
Following the instructions from our Coast Guard Radio Operator friend, Rob, I call the CCG radio station to let them know we are going in to this harbour. There are no communications in or out of this area surrounded by very high hills. We experienced this before, without being able to reach the radio tower at Conche. Rob is happy to hear from us and appreciates the call, asking me to call again on our exit. Feelings of pride and satisfaction fill my head and my heart as he comments on our travels to these small communities, most Newfoundlanders will never see. My thoughts go to my mother who left Newfoundland at the age of fourteen: I wonder how much of her home province she actually saw and feel some sorrow that she only returned once.
The Cruising Guide tells us “The last of the residents relocated in the spring of 2003 (many to Deer Lake). The vacated town’s relatively modern housing presented an eerily disturbing image in comparison to that of old graying salt box houses that one often encounters in Newfoundland’s abandoned outports.” I couldn’t agree more as I feel unsettled during our short overnight stay.
Great Harbour Deep in the morning sun
At 5:30 we are anchored in the upper basin in twelve feet of water, just past the old wharf. It is an unusual design with two pods, one off each end of the 50 foot section coming from shore. It is difficult to imagine freighters coming in to this very small harbour, but that is what the pods were for - tying the bow and the stern of the larger vessels.
There is laundry hanging out at one house, but also a deserted pickup truck with its nose in the water. Some stages look new and at least one has a fishing boat tied to it but others are old and collapsed, long forgotten. An ATV runs along the shore road just before dark. That is the extent of our human interaction in Harbour Deep.
After a longer than usual day on the water, and a late start, we are tired. We don’t install the enclosure, put the boards in the companionway before the cold settles in and prepare an easy supper of sausage, beans and hash browns. It is only 7:45 but it will soon be dark. The nights are cooler and the winds stronger: fall has come to the Northern Peninsula.
The night is very calm and quiet, until 6:00am when we think we hear the anchor dragging. It isn’t, but I put the heat on and crawl back into bed for another half hour before making oatmeal and tea.
Harald checks our dripping water intake hose, but all seems good so we depart at 8:00 with a loon, who doesn’t seem the least bothered by our presence.
As promised, I notify Rob that “Seabiscuit has left the Northern Peninsula”. He provides a weather update and we promise to see each other in Little Bay Islands over the Labour Day Weekend.
We are steering 155 degrees, SSE with various sea states from “flat arse calm” to one metre swells and back to calm.
After we round Partridge Point, I can email the Fleur de Lys harbourmaster, Kim (also our host at the BnB there in June) and ask about wharf space. She says things are pretty busy at the main wharf but there is room at the Seal Plant Wharf. Harald drops the sails at Cape Crapaud and we enter the harbour.
The entrance is very difficult to find so I rely on the presence of local fishermen and the route line still on our plotter from our last visit. There are also three distinct hills rising above the community. This is apparently where the town got its name from the French when they first arrived to fish here. The hills represent the three sections of the “lily” on the French coat of arms.
The indicated wharf is empty so we tie up along the face, later moving the boat by hand along the north side for better protection from the forecasted winds. Kim pops down for a short “hello” and to let her know if we need anything. This is after three other vehicles approach the wharf, the occupants wanting to know our story. “Angus” is heading to Baie Verte and will pick up anything we need.
Protected harbour