Weather Change
The weather seems settled as we creep back through the narrows (or on shore, according to the chart plotter) at 8:00am on Tuesday July 27. There is wind, though, which hits us head on as we move east through the last of the channel.
Turning northeast, rounding Cat’s Point, we see thick, low cloud where we are headed. It is lovely where we are and we are able to sail, so we carry on. There is a very large, twin-peaked iceberg offshore, but close enough for us to alter course to avoid. It appears black, with the sun behind it, but is gleaming white as we pass into the sun. We heard there are three very large sections of the “monster” berg in Conche, that have broken away. Perhaps this is one of those sections. Another, lower, long slab is ahead about ten miles.
The hills and cuts into the fiords are magnificent, with heights reaching 1300 feet. We notice there are now fewer trees than we saw, even where we just came from. The rock and the pale green lichen is splendid in the morning sun.
By 10:30 we realize we will have to duck in to the next safe harbour, as the low cloud is coming quickly toward us, perhaps with a squall lying within. In a flash of a minute, the temperature has dropped at least 10’C and the wind is over 20 knots.
Harald has already furled the foresail, so he hardens the main and I steer us into Fourche Harbour. We have only travelled 13 nautical miles, but there is no need for us to proceed into what is coming for us. The radar also indicates there is another iceberg hidden in the fog.
Fourche is not the best stop, as we both recall the sleepless night here last season, when we were anchored in fifty feet, with a rock “garden” behind us. The CCA Cruising Guide suggests to anchor “in settled weather”. It is our belief that the fog in the north will clear and we will be able to carry on to our intended destination, Englee in Canada Bay.
Our stop is just an hour, in the northeast cove, where the resettled community of Williamsport once sat. Last summer, it appeared at least one of the cabins might still be used in the summer months; this is not the case now. None seem stable enough to even enter.
We have a bite of lunch, take some photos and then move around the bend to see the remains of the last operating whaling station in Newfoundland. It is haunting and I have no desire to go ashore and walk among the rusted, deserted equipment.
Abandoned Whaling Station
The mainsail is hoisted, but with one reef (makes the sail smaller), before we leave Fourche Point, the fog is moving south now but it is still cold. We are back to sweaters and toques and I replace my boat shoes with rubber boots. The cloud is still heavy so we expect some rain.
We pass the large slab of an iceberg which resembles a large, overturned boat hull and at 3:45 we are in Canada Bay and passing the Southern Harbour. One can anchor there, in the inner basin, but we are in need of water and some groceries so we return to the wharf in the Northern Harbour. Last year’s visit was pleasant so we expect more of the same.
As we approach the wharf, we are dodging fishing net markers in the harbour - lots of markers! My path resembles a pinball game, but with the slight difference that I don’t want to hit the balls. Capelin fishing is in full swing.
There is plenty of room for us, so I ease Seabiscuit behind the offloading fishing boat and a gentleman takes our stern line. I quickly climb the ladder to grab the bow line from Harald. We are secure. (Later to be told the men on the fishing boat commented on how “the missus just came in and parked the boat”. That praise feels a whole lot better than what one feels when they hit the wharf!)
This is a very tight channel with no room for us to turn around. We plan to move back several meters and turn her with the lines when it is time to leave.
The wharf is very busy. The capelin is being “vacuumed” out of the back of the fishing boat and moved through a small conveyor. From there it pours into the waiting plastic boxes, filled with ice and salt. It looks like liquid silver. The fish are very small but there are so many.
A boat can catch up to 35,000 pounds per day and gets 22 cents per pound. The female capelin are shipped whole to Japan where the roe (masago) is removed and eaten - a delicacy. The males are sold for fish meal and oil production. We ate it smoked last summer in Labrador - male or female? We didn’t know to ask.
Two forklifts move together in a carefully choreographed dance, bringing empty boxes to the dock crew to fill with ice and the other moving them away after they are filled with the fish. Then the job of loading them on the waiting transport trucks begins. This all happens in the confines of the wharf, between water and the grocery store and all the crew spring into action as soon as another boat arrives at the wharf. We are in awe.
