We woke up to a perfect, if perfectly
calm, morning. We left straight after breakfast, drifting out of the
anchor and leisurely making sail.
The ‘other part’ of the St Andrews
Passage, which I had also always wanted to transit, was the Canso
Strait, taking you between Canso I and the mainland, where the town
is located. En route to the passage that goes past the town itself,
we passed the Canso Light sitting on its wee island, which looks as
though it might get washed away in the next severe gale!
As you turn the corner, the town is
completely dominated by a huge church, and this continued to be the
case as long as we had the town in view. The leading marks are, in
true Nova Scotian style, well maintained and attractively designed
and executed. I often wonder why, now that we have so many aids to
our creativity, we can so rarely create something that is both
functional and attractive.
Indeed, creating something aesthetically pleasing seems to be an
impossible challenge for most designers these days.
The
passage was very pretty and the town looking most appealing under a
sunny sky, bordered as it was by a calm sea. But I couldn’t help
thinking that it’s probably a bit bleak in the winter. From
all angles, the church was
the town and I wondered how much influence, for good or otherwise,
this institution has on Canso.
Canso is an old town, by New World
standards and it is amazing how many of its day-marks are obviously
of quite some vintage, but still standing. I am sure they must get
battered by ice in the winter and they are undoubtedly built of soft
woods, but in the middle of the channel leading out towards Ile
Madame, was a structure holding a light. It was covered with shags –
until I got my camera out – but although sagging and bulging, and
well out of true, still appeared to be doing its job.
We drifted out and with no great
distance to go, were quite happy with the light winds that took us
most of the way to D'Escousse. If nothing else, it gave us an excuse
to finish off the beer!
When we arrived at D’Escousse we
found the harbour full of boats, enjoying the Yacht Club's annual
festival. There was no sign of our friends Don and Marjorie, and
after catching up with the irrepressible Claude, who shanghaied us to
go and look at a building he's restoring (apparently to the
accompaniment of a running battle with the local council); and
visiting our dear old friend, 'Uncle' Bill's widow, who was baking
vast quantities of bread for her son to take back home to Central
Canada; and participating in the 90th birthday party of a complete
stranger, we went back aboard. Trevor had been hoping to put Barky
alongside to scrub off some barnacles and change the anodes, but this
didn’t seem to be the right day for such a task!
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