Planning Is Everything…well, almost everything
Some of that sail plan discussion with other boaters last evening included the suggestion that we not cross to Sept Iles as we had originally planned. The 60 nautical mile crossing was not exactly what we favoured so we listened and developed a new plan. Sainte Anne des Monts would not be our last stop on the south shore after all. The new plan is to go 43 miles further east to Riviere Madeleine and cross to Anticosti Island, taking us further east with safe harbours which are a bit lacking east of Sept Iles to Mingan. Also breaking up the journey into shorter distances but more days, getting us closer to our next “stay destination” The Mingan Archipelago. So thank you to our new friend, Ives, for the phrase about sailors not knowing where they will end up tomorrow! I may have changed it slightly, but I think the translation is close enough.
This morning did not start well. Ignoring what others were doing when they left the dock, we chose to remove fenders and lines after we left the safety of the harbour. The wind was strong from the north, blowing us toward the break wall with the seas already choppy.
Motoring while Harald tried to tidy the deck I am anxiously watching his attempts to finish the task and return to the cockpit. Then realizing he is not dressed in the appropriate outer wear, considering the immense spray and cold air, he goes below to gather rain gear and boots and for the first time I ever witnessed, he returns to the cockpit showing the telltale signs of seasickness. I know!
We are finally able to raise the main sail to provide some stability as we travelled downwind as we favoured saving fuel if we could. The wind was not great, but the swells were like nothing we’d ever seen before. White, rushing foam surrounded us as we surfed down the waves into ever-growing troughs and then into very confused seas.
The scenery was gorgeous - high, green, rolling hills, some as high as 650 meters. Small villages with the ever-present white church steeples reminded us that we were not alone in the world, as much as it felt like it was just us and the sea.
By 3:00 we are grateful as we pass the lighthouse just west of the entrance to the harbour at Riviere Madeleine. Almost to our destination, I hesitate but know I have to turn the boat into the wind and now 6-10 foot swells. The boat slamming through the waves, Harald drops the sail and as I turn back toward the harbour, suddenly the engine dies. Nothing. No electronics, no lights, no radio. We have lost all power. We are tired and know we can’t enter a strange and narrow harbour under sail, plus we know there is a major problem with the boat.
The decision to call the Coast Guard is always one we make with hesitancy but know it is also sometimes the only option. We needed a harbour that could provide us with the necessary shelter but also, more importantly, the necessary help for the boat.
The Coast Guard dispatcher in Quebec City sends out a call to any other boat in the area that might assist, but I tell him nobody would be coming out in these conditions.
Not in danger but very tired we open the foresail and begin sailing east, toward the Coast Guard vessel Cap D’Espoir deployed from Riviere au Renard 40 nautical miles further east. Our conversations with Command Officer “Marc” are light as he calmly explains the plan once they come along side about 90 minutes after our initial call.
Without a VHF radio and dying cell phones, Marc has his crew throw us a line with a large sea line bag at the other end. Harald hauls the bag on deck retrieving a portable VHF radio and battery charger. The crew of the Cap D’Espoir remain patient as I continue to steer and Harald attempts to boost our main battery. (Brand new batteries I would like to add!)
That failing, the new plan is for us to keep sailing until the next harbour at Cloridorme. Original discussion was to tow us to Riviere au Renard where we knew there would be a mechanic and any required supplies. Marc tells me that trip would not end until 10:00pm and that it would be very rough for us with the wind and waves coming from behind.
We trust their plan, especially after Marc tells us his onboard engineer lives in Cloridorme and knows there is help there for us. This is only about 10 more miles east and not nearly as far around the Gaspe as Riviere au Renard. We were actually considering changing our final destination to PEI!
Just off the harbour entrance a tow line is tossed our way and once inside the channel the Coast Guard vessel draws us up along side so they can “take us in on the hip”. Incredible skill and expertise!
Within minutes of arriving at the large fishing wharf, docked tight between two fishing boats, there are 5 men in Seabiscuit’s cabin, removing gear from the aft cabin and working on the batteries, then on to the engine. Troubleshooting with much discussion in Gaspe French, they have taken over the task of diagnosing and repairing and have called a mechanic who will arrive at 9:00 the next morning. A small crowd is on the wharf looking down as we just let these determined strangers work on our problem.
We express our very deep thanks to the Coast Guard, Marc and his crew and they head back out to return the 30 miles to their base, with the hope nothing more serious requires their attention before the end of the night.
And this begins our 5 day hiatus in the quiet fishing village of Cloridorme.
