Final Days

The week following our return to the dock was filled with sunshine and pleasant daytime temperatures. We avoid saying, “we should have stayed out”. Together we made the decision to end our cruise, based on the weather forecast we had available, and because our onboard furnace requires some maintenance. The ten weeks at sea were remarkable.

It was also time to catch-up with friends. Mike and Ann bought a house in Ramea and Mark completed his solo cruise to Labrador. So much to chat about. Other friends returned and have already headed home, to return later to prepare their boats for winter. Living in Ontario, we do not have the luxury of going home and coming back for short weekend sails and winterizing.

Our rental cottage is booked for Tuesday and we do not leave Lewisporte for a week after that so even though there are many chores to complete, we do not feel rushed.

Harald changes the engine oil, winterizes the deck wash pump, cleans and dries the stuffing box and empties and cleans the two water tanks. I empty and clean the fridge, unpack all food storage lockers and together we take down the sails. A seam is separating on the foresail so I call Frank Davis, asking if he can accommodate us once again with the repair. We make arrangements to deliver the sail to him on Sunday.

Haul out is set for early afternoon on Tuesday but Brian asks in the morning if we are ready so we can make use of the high tide at 9:30. The process is smooth, especially with the help of the skillful marina staff.

Once the boat is on the hard, and we are moved into Embree Cottage, I remove all the linens and take them to the cabin for washing and thoroughly drying them before storing them again in vacuum sealed bags. I also take the canvas enclosure to the cabin where I hose it off and hang it in the sun to dry.

Harald completes the winterization of the water systems and remembers to remove the garboard plug. (This is a brass plug that fills the hole in the bottom of the bilge when we are in the water. It is removed in the winter so any water entering the boat can drain through the bottom.)

The oven and stove are next on my list so they get a thorough end of season cleaning.

The renovations at the cabin are truly welcoming.

Harald spends most days at the boat but I travel back and forth, the short distance from the cabin and also make trips for groceries and other needed supplies. Our days are filled and our evenings are in the company of friends. I carry our dinner food to the clubhouse where, once again, we cook and dine together.

There was a large sailboat docked at the entrance to the marina when we arrived on August 29. She is Aegir - a beautiful, black, sixty-two foot steel sloop, flying the German flag. At our first opportunity we walk out to the end of the pier and introduce ourselves. It is, indeed, our pleasure to meet Gregor and Christine Rex and to hear some of their story. They have lived onboard for almost two years and have had amazing experiences in Norway, Sweden and the Faroe Islands. They spent their first winter onboard north of the Arctic Circle in Tromso, Norway. Iceland and Greenland also appear in their log book - and here they are entertaining us in Lewisporte, Newfoundland.

Our happy hour with Christine and Gregor included a tour of Aegir (a personification of the sea in Norse mythology), and the friendliest conversation in one of the two salons onboard. I am envious of the large galley and upright fridge and freezer, the walk-around bed in the captain’s quarters and the warmth of the birch wood that encompasses the entire cabin.

We invite them to join us for supper in the clubhouse, confirming I have made enough chicken stew to share. Unfortunately, they do not take in the fellowship of the evening gathering and our interactions following are brief when we pass along the dock. We share social media contact points and promise to stay in touch as they head toward Nova Scotia and later New York City. They lament their time in Newfoundland has not been long enough so perhaps our navigation will bring us together again.

Other international interaction at the marina included meeting the Swedish couple Robert and Elizabeth on Sirenia 111. I will never forget my first conversation with Robert when I asked where they had come from to settle in Lewisporte. When he said Cape Town, South Africa, I meekly responded with, “well we sailed to Bonavista this summer.” They have lived onboard a boat smaller than ours, for four years. Robert invited all available to join them for supper the night before their flight home, so they could cook all the meat left in their freezer! Some of us offer salads and Harald mans the barbecue. A truly enjoyable evening.

Elizabeth and Robert, our Swedish dinner hosts

Last chores include cleaning and packing up the dinghy for storage, installing new steps on the swim ladder, wrapping the winches and securing the dodger and bimini frames and solar panels.

Friday September 6 is the day the marina staff will be preparing Jigg’s Dinner for any who wish to partake in the traditional “one pot” meal of salt beef, potatoes, turnip, carrots, beet greens and pease pudding. It is our turn to donate the salt beef so I purchase the preferred “Chalkers” 1.75kg bucket at the local Co-op.

About fifteen people assemble for lunch, including the marina manager and staff. It is not our favourite meal but once a year it is a marina tradition we are happy to be part of.

Clarey, Reg, Sheena and Robert - Lewisporte Marina staff

Sadly, we missed the “Voices On The Wind” at the Beothuk Interpretation Centre but having attended the last two years, we are happy to have the afternoons of Indigenous drumming, dancing and food stored away in our memories.

Instead, we travel past Boyd’s Cove the following day after delivering our sail to Frank at his home along the shore of Birchy Bay. Frank is always pleasant to meet with. He, once again, shared more stories of his life in Newfoundland.

His family has very close ties to the Point Amour Lighthouse in southern Labrador. At 33.2 metres, it is the tallest lighthouse in Newfoundland and Labrador and the second tallest in Canada. This is also the site of the 1922 well known ship wreck, the HMS Raleigh, a 700-crew vessel, which ran aground on the rocks of Forteau Bay, ripping a 360-foot hole in her hull. It was too foggy the day we crossed to Labrador so we have not yet seen the lighthouse - still on our bucket list! Frank’s family’s history there makes it all the more enticing.

I proudly show Frank a photo of the painting I did of his birth place, the Flowers Island Lighthouse and marine radio station at Flowers Cove - a favourite stop and our crossing point to Labrador in 2022.

I am glad I included the little grey radio station in my painting - Frank’s boyhood home.

We continue along Highway 340 seeking a place for a picnic and a hike.

The Dildo Run Provincial Park gate keeper welcomes us with “no charge” and provides me with the park map, pointing out where to park and where to hike.

Our walk takes about an hour, along the southeast shore of New World Island. Our efforts are rewarded by the spectacular view at the end of the trail.

Looking east toward the narrow channel of Dildo Run.

Final storage is completed at the boat, cushions are stacked, cupboard doors left open. We deliver the dinghy, outboard and repaired sail to Robert’s home to store over the winter. He treats us to a sampling of his teriyaki moose jerky. Delicious! We express our thanks and wish him and his new wife a healthy, safe winter.

Our last day at the marina is for thank yous and good-byes. Many of our friends are making plans for next summer that mean we might not see each other. Some will launch early and be gone when we arrive. Mike and Ann have their new home to delight in and might have sold Pachina Mia. Mark’s boat is still displaying a “for sale” sign.

We do not intend to launch Seabiscuit, taking a road trip to new and familiar places instead. Accommodation is offered by Newfoundland friends and we promise to stop in Lewisporte to check on Seabiscuit, hoping some are in the marina during our short stay. This is all nine months away and we know plans can change. The intention is to stay in touch, regardless.

Homeward Bound