This Eastern Shore is a truly
delightful cruising ground.
Thursday saw us sailing in very light
breezes and wending our way among a variety of islands and skerries,
the sixteen miles to Beaver Harbour. There is a spit here, where I
hoped we'd get ashore and explore, but after we had anchored, we
realised that there were terns nesting there and as we didn’t want
to disturb them, we stayed on board.
We left the following morning, with fog
coming and going. Trevor had loaded in the waypoints and at a tricky
moment realised that he had put in some incorrectly, so there was a
bit of flurried activity. The compass badly needs swinging – the
joys of a steel boat! - which makes the one in the GPS more
important than is usually the case. But one usually has more time
than one realises.
There was a lovely bit of pilotage through
islands, which I enjoyed doing the old-fashioned way.
We came out into a large area of open
water and drifted in the hot afternoon sun while we drank a couple of
the beers that we’d bought in Sheet Harbour.
Just before tea time, we anchored in
Mary Joseph, a fishing harbour with a large fleet of dead boats and
the somewhat surreal sight of a large Coastguard vessel grounded
ashore.
Saturday came in with a beautiful dawn.
But I was glad to leave Mary Joseph
because I found it a rather depressing harbour. Just before we got
under way, a fishing boat set off, calmly dumping a bag of rubbish
overboard - plastic bottles and polystyrene takeaway containers. I
can’t understand how people whose livelihoods depend on the sea can
treat it this way. I’d have thought they could have dumped their
rubbish ashore before they set off.
We sailed out in very light airs. We
had a bit of fun by Liscomb Island when the fog came in thick and
(once again!) the waypoints didn’t match reality. I was actually
quite happy, because I was steering and had been taking in the route
as we sailed along. The visibility was coming and going and I pretty
much knew where we should be heading, but it’s a bit different when
you suddenly come up and can’t see anything! But GPS or no GPS, a
couple of bell or whistle buoys in the vicinity, doing their thing,
are always welcome. We noticed that the sound of the whistle buoys
seems to carry much better, regardless of the wind direction, than
that of bell buoys. We were almost on the Liscomb buoy before we
heard it!
The entrance into Spanish Ship Harbour
was narrow and intricate with a bit of tide running, so we motored
in. The harbour, which had looked so pretty on the chart, was
nowhere near as attractive as I'd hoped it would be. A lot of trees
had been cut down ashore and a major highway ran along the far side.
Trevor went ashore to cut some wood, but came back complaining about
the poor quality. Still, as he pointed out, with his trusty chain
saw, he didn’t mind spending time cutting up indifferent wood
because it wasn’t really that much work.
As we sat having our
sundowner, the fog came in and we wondered if we were going to be
trapped there the next day.
We were planning to leave early,
because we had a 45-mile sail ahead of us, heading for Whitehead
Harbour, so we were relieved to find that the fog had vanished when
we got up.
We were underway just after 7, with a
light wind, which forced us to use the engine for a little while. It
filled in to about F2 by 9 o’clock, but 2 hours later, there was no
sign of the promised westerly. However, it gradually filled in as
forecast, and we were soon sailing along in fine style. Well
offshore there was not a lot to look at, so we appreciated all the
more the sight of a very pretty little schooner going the other way.
Trevor got some fine photos of her.
The entrance to Whitehead Harbour is
hidden among islands and skerries and took a bit of sorting out. For
once the Mr Loveridge’s cruising guide was not particularly clear
and as we bounded along in a fresh breeze, there were a few tense
minutes before everything fell into place. Once it did, it was quite
straightforward and we made our way into the charming Yankee Cove
with no more problems.
Astonishingly, five other yachts
followed us in, including three Nonsuch catboats of various sizes.
The place was positively crowded!
With easterlies forecast, and then
rain, we stayed in Yankee Harbour for a few days. It was a lovely
spot. One afternoon, I took Lisa and rowed all around the island
that made up one side of the anchorage, leaving Trevor to wrestle
with the cooker which had been misbehaving. That used to be my job –
there are advantages to being a guest!! Trevor also assaulted the
local forest and we spent time sorting out photographs, swopping with
one another so that we each had a good selection.
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