Natashquan, A Milestone
The sea is flat, eerie flat and the air is a bit misty. The auto helm steers us the easy straight line about 2 1/2 miles off shore and away from the shoals. Harald takes the opportunity to polish the stainless and I read. Most days on the water are spent with the two of us in the cockpit, watching, steering, snacking, napping. (When I think of all the books and knitting I brought with me….it’s all I can do to keep up with my blog updates.) But today things are so calm, it seems like a good time to multitask.
That is, until about 2:00 when we are now in 17-22 knot winds, but again straight out of the east, with building waves. We decide to raise the sails, with a reefed main, and tack our way to Natashquan.
We can move faster and more comfortably than with the engine but tacking takes time, as we have to leave our course to catch the best wind, ever so slowly zigzagging our way to our destination.
In the midst of all this Harald spots a large boat on our stern. I recognize it immediately as the Bella Desgagnes, about four hours late for her scheduled Wednesday stop in Natashquan.
We know we have to give way, so we tack toward the shore again, for a short time as shoals are near and hard. She makes her way to the first red buoy about 1/2 mile from the wharf when she suddenly turns and heads back east. What luck! We really weren’t looking forward to tackling the wharf with her docked there, even if just for a few hours.
Mind you, if she was at the dock, there would also be help for us. This is nothing like docking in a slip at a marina.
Following our instructions from the Cruising Club of America guidebook, I swing into Canada Bay and come along the north side of the wharf, where only one small runabout is tied up at the shore end.
There are two men on the wharf who willingly take our lines (getting practise throwing lines up 15 feet) but then tell us we will have to stay at the outer end as a fishing boat is coming in to unload. They promise we can move up after the fishing boat leaves, but after they unload and clean their decks, the crew depart, leaving us at the end of the wharf for the night. Harald stays on the wharf and I throw more lines to him so he can create a bit of a web keeping us tied for all tide changes and expected wind.
We figure being at the end of the wharf will make for an as easier departure in the morning, but what we didn’t know was that the barge we saw on the south side of the wharf was being loaded tonight. Front end loaders, a transport truck, many things being dropped into a steel barge plus the squeak of the fenders along the wharf as the tide rose and fell. (The tug operator told us the next day they were all laughing at us, “no romance on that boat tonight!”
Fortunately, for some reason they only worked until 1:00am, and not the all night shift they were expecting.
While eating our dinner (in the cabin for the first time in weeks) we heard voices “up top”. We went out and looked up the 15’ or so find a family peering over the side of the wharf wall and talking about our boat. Their English was quite good so we chatted a bit - the usual: where are we from, where are we going, where did travel from today?
We take the opportunity to ask if they know where we can get diesel, as this is our last chance for fill-up for over 100 nautical miles. Without a fully functioning engine and consistent wind on our nose, we have to be certain we can motor the whole way, with not very efficient use of diesel.
The gentleman tells us “my dad!” His wife is dialling her phone which she then passes down to me to speak with “Daniel” who runs a diesel fuel delivery truck.
What luck again! (We silently commit to always speak to people we meet!) I speak to Daniel who promises to be by first thing in the morning with his truck. If the nozzle doesn’t fit in our fuel cap port, he will drive us and our jerry cans to the gas station and return them to the boat.
We rise early after our noisy, uncomfortable night, have a quick bowl of oatmeal and prepare for Diesel Day. At 9:00 with no sign of Daniel, I make my first climb up the ladder (low tide, 11 rungs of rusty, salty steel) and see “the top” now for the first time. It is a grey, foggy morning and the wharf is filled with construction equipment, a refrigerator truck and other jetsam and flotsam needed on a fishing wharf where a barge is also being loaded with just about anything you can imagine. Depressing.
I quickly cheer up when I see the beauty of the area, as we leave the wharf: granite, low scrubby trees, fireweed, wild raspberries, Canadian burnet, dry tidal ponds and a friendly blackpoll warbler sits long enough to have his photo taken.
The 30 minute walk to town is saved by a friendly couple who stop their pick-up truck and offer us a ride. (The bright yellow jerry can is a great flag for “we could use some assistance.”)
He doesn’t speak English, a native of Natashquan, but she is from New Brunswick and acts as translator. She tells us their story of being married 45 years since she visited the area and never returned to NB. He is a retired crab fisherman, clearly with nothing else to do on this misty Thursday morning.
We explain about our journey so far, being at the wharf and needing some diesel. He quickly explains he will take us to the gas station and either return the fuel to the boat or wait if we want to shop at the grocery store and then drive us back to the wharf. Such hospitality!
We opt to shop and walk back so we can see a bit more of the village of Natashquan. With just a few pieces of produce and two bottles of local beer, the walk back with our little grocery cart (thanks Deb and Angus! It has come in very handy on this trip.) is an easy stroll. I enjoy snapping some shots of the community and the scenes from the other side of the road as we near the wharf.
Just before leaving the road, what appears driving up from the wharf? A fuel truck. Can only be Daniel. He sees us, stops the truck and immediately apologizes for not being there sooner. He saw the yellow jerry can sitting on the wharf above the boat and figured we had obtained help from someone else. A very nice man, no apology expected.
I lower myself down the ladder to receive the grocery cart and the jerry can once Harald has them attached to a line. (I lost a large docking line trying to throw to him the night before so now everything gets secured before tossed!)
Realizing this is the time we should leave rather than spend another uncomfortable night and the forecast is favourable and the fog is lifting, we quickly eat the sandwiches I had prepared for our 30 mile trip to Kegaska, Harald removes the sail cover and starts the engine. We don our warmest “foulies” with toques and gloves at the ready and we’re off the wharf. We should arrive by 6:30, knowing the sun sets at 7:30.
