Westward Bound

We ended this day with the happy news that all of the seven missing fishermen were found alive in their life raft, after their last flare was seen by the rescue helicopter, three days after being reported missing and drifting out to sea in the heavy fog.

These men were from, and returned by Coast Guard cutter to New-Wes-Valley, just a mile from our stop at Puddingbag Cove.  Even further away than Bonavista, people are celebrating.  Such a close community.  Their story begins to unfold of a fire in the engine room, giving them just five minutes to get into the life raft.  Their biggest worry - for those at home believing they will not be found.

This is not uncommon in Newfoundland and Labrador fishing communities - but not always with this happy ending.

We begin to play out scenarios in our minds - location of fire extinguishers and blankets, the ditch bag, how quickly can we grab it and the radio? The InReach is attached to my life jacket, but who will grab it from the chart table and send the SOS if we are anchored? How quickly can we lower the dinghy?  Are our cell phones fully charged?   These things have all been considered and thought through in the past but the story brings it back to the surface.  All this without panic.

Today we will leave Bonavista Harbour and head back west to the other side of Bonavista Bay.  The bay is about 75 kilometres long and 50 kilometres wide.  We have travelled nearly as far south as you can by boat and will today cross back its entire width.

I wake at 4:30 to the full moon of Sunday July 21.  By 6:30 the Coast Guard boat Vladykov and the ice boat have left the dock.  The day is sunny and many go early for their daily cod catch, including Don and Joyce on Zephyr. We are not long behind them.

There was much conversation last night about when to leave as the forecast showed twenty knots of wind and two metre swells. By 3:30am the forecast was more favourable and we are excited to be heading back west into now familiar territory.

We certainly enjoyed our stay in Bonavista, but will have to return as we know there is much we did not see, including the Ryan Premises National Historic Site - the large white buildings seen below where the story of the 500 year old cod fishery is told.

Jerry came from home last night to settle our bill and to collect Bob’s car keys.  The cost was $60 for three nights and the use of the laundry facilities an additional bargain! The use of Bob’s car - priceless!

It took us some time to adjust the sails, shaking out the reef we had left in expecting a windier crossing.  Sadly, we have to motor sail as there just isn’t enough wind to keep us even close to six knots of speed.

There is a bit of a “chop” but not too much to see the dolphins running along side. We approach The Trough with anticipation but there is not the activity we witnessed a few days ago.

The route is direct so we let “Otto Helm” steer all the way, at least until we near Salvage. With just an hour to go to our destination of Saint Chads, the chop and the wind are unexpectedly more than double.

The motor sail is hard for the last few miles as I have to steer off the many rocky islands, trying to keep the heel to a minimum.   The mainsail has helped with stability but it is not safe right now for Harald to go forward to lower it. (My opinion!) We enter the basin without difficulty once we are in the protection of the higher shoreline. Anchoring is easy but after a quick lunch we move forward so we have a clear 250 feet of swing room all the way around.  The wind is expected to be strong and variable. We plan to be here a few days.

A call from home is welcome and we are grateful for the cellular coverage for a nice FaceTime chat with son and grandchildren.

For two days it is warm and mostly sunny. We putter with boat chores, Harald paints the compass pedestal and I dabble with my watercolours.   Our days of playing tourist were tiring and filled us with so much to think about. We linger in this quiet, collecting our thoughts. We read, play cards and have wonderful sleeps - even with the boat swinging 360’ and 30 knots of wind whistling through the rigging.

The sky threatens but the rain never comes.

The news tells us there could be a display of northern lights on our last night in Saint Chads. I wake twice and look out into the very clear sky but see only the bright moon.

Sleep does not come back to me so I stay up and make use of the good cellular service to prepare my next blog post. With the clear sky came a cooler temperature so I start the furnace and prepare oatmeal and coffee.  We review our upcoming harbour plans and weather.

Checking the weather is such a big part of our days on the water. If we cannot get the marine forecast on our phones, we turn on the VHF radio and listen to the long broadcast from the Coast Guard, until the area we are in is described.  We will soon be moving from the “East Coast - North of Cape St. Francis” to “Northeast Coast” region so we listen to both forecasts.  Both of these regions cover vast areas of water and the forecasts have to describe areas far off shore. As we are so close to shore, we also try to get the local forecast from The Weather Network or CBC Radio. With all of this data, we make our decisions.

The wind has completely died and the water is glass as we steam out of Saint Chads.  It is a bit eerie. Only the jelly fish and the odd stem of kelp float past.  Other than the ferry sitting at the wharf in Burnside, we see only two other boats in the 26nm to Newport.  There is no wind for the pleasure sailors and there is no cod fishing on a Wednesday.

A minke or fin whale comes near along side at Popplestone Island and an eagle flies past carrying a fish in its talons.  Other than that, we are alone as we head toward Newport.

We are also alone in Newport. There are no boats at the docks so we know the cabins are empty.  It is extremely quiet.  The shoreline is different from where we came.  There are fewer trees and none along the shore where white rock meets the water and blends into the lichen and smaller trees above.

Hot water generated from the engine running calls us to indulge in showers, knowing we can fill our water tanks in coming days. Harald makes a delicious potato salad to have with sausage for our supper.

We read in the cockpit until we need headlamps. I turn off Gordon Lightfoot. Not a sound except the turning of our pages.

Previous
Previous

A Long and Exciting Day

Next
Next

Melancholy