Log #52e Eastern Shore of Nova Scotia 2

Shelburne, Nova Scotia

July 21, 2011

Hi Folks,

Many thanks to those of you who sent me birthday greetings. Aren’t some of the computer reminder apps handy? I am a bad one for remembering birthdays and anniversaries. I started this log on my birthday, July 19, and when I went on line today, I got several of your greetings before sending this log. Thanks.

This log gets us into Halifax. We have enjoyed the passage down the Eastern Shore, beautiful rugged anchorages, with few communities located nearby. Down here where we are in Shelburne, this Southwest Shore is more populated. I have attached a few pictures of another anchorage, Marie Joseph Harbour in the early dawn. Every anchorage has a million dollar view. I also have a picture of a Navy vessel exiting Halifax in the fog. We have had several days of fog on this coast.

I have not been very successful in fishing as we sailed down the coast. So far I have caught only four small fish (small by my ocean going standards in each fish was only about 1 kilo, or about two pounds).  They were caught in two locations while at anchor with a baited line hung over the stern. I have not caught anything trolling behind while under way.

Incidentally we are at anchor here in Shelburne and are able to pick up the local marina’s WiFi with a booster antenna we got last year from Raft, a boat we met in the Caribbean and now located back in Ontario.  Thanks Ross!

I trust you got an invitation recently to view my album on Picasa. My moniker is Ontario Cruiser, if you were wondering from whom the invitation was issued. We have finally got some half decent summer weather here, although still frequent wind storms. We do not have the heat wave hitting central Canada and the USA.

All the best,

Aubrey

Log #52e Eastern Shore 2 to Halifax

Port Mouton, NS

July 19, 2011

I start this log at anchor here in Port Mouton, just off a wide sandy beach, adjacent to Kejimkujik National Park Seaside, on my birthday. Every year gets better. I remember especially my decade birthdays from my 40^th when I was in (West) Germany driving around the Schwarzwald in my 230SL Mercedes convertible, my 50^th when I was in a Navy minesweeper going up the inner passage to Alaska, my 60^th when we were up in the beautiful North Channel of Lake Huron, the first summer of our (now 13 year) retirement cruising lifestyle, and my 70^th in Hog Island of Grenada, our favourite anchorage in the Caribbean. And here I am now enjoying my birthday sailing from Lunenburg down the Bluenose coast, the Southwestern Shore of Nova Scotia. (For my 10^th I was a kid enjoying the local Lions Club swimming pool in my small home town of Dundas, Ontario, my 20^th I was on a Navy frigate across the Pacific to Hawaii, and my 30^th I was in command of an 85 foot Navy patrol boat (YAG 12) teaching coastal navigation to officer cadets around the scenic Gulf Islands off Vancouver Island.)  Life is good! (And we are thankful for it and for the health [so far] to enjoy it.)

I am over two weeks behind and need to keep up before I forget the many sights and experiences we have had.

We left Liscombe June 27 at 1320 after doing laundry, my bicycle ride, and getting kindling wood for our stove. It was what we call a staged departure when if we have a long passage to complete, we go a short way out to drop anchor closer to open water for an early departure next day. We have done this several times before, especially if we are doing a night passage; it helps to get out of a complex anchorage in daylight, to anchor in an outer bay for an easier departure. This time we went out the Liscombe River, 13 miles over to anchor (44 57.545N, 062 06.902W) in Marie Joseph Harbour, near the interestingly named town of Ecum Secum.

 We were just in behind a headland, the tip of which was separated by a low causeway, with tree clad crests on either side. The next morning just before sun up, the weather was clear and the water was glassy calm, creating some scenic reflections of the still darkened headland panorama (see attached pictures). Across the bay the crests of the dark low lying hills shrouded from the rising sun were lined with a silent strip of grey mist, an interesting study in silhouettes, reflections and shadows. (see attached picture) As the sun came up it bathed the shoreline with its gentle morning illumination revealing the tranquil beauty of the coniferous tree clad woods symmetrically reflected in the still water of our anchorage (see the attached picture).  

The open bay allowed us an early departure for our 42 mile passage next day. 
We made good time although we motored all morning, entertained at one point by a pod of 15 to 20 seals cavorting (or feasting) seaward of us. We anchored for a pleasant lunch stop in Taylors Head Bay (44 48.711N, 062 33.272W) before going the last 16 miles to anchor in Owls Head Bay (44, 43.289N, 062 48.287W) our last stop before Halifax. Unfortunately we sailed only a half hour over the past two days as we were motoring SW into a SW wind. The weather was grey and the seas lumpy, and so we went into Owls Head Bay, a spontaneous anchorage as we had not planned it, nor had we read about it in our pilot book. It just looked good as an alternative anchorage, not far from our planned route to Halifax, and we didn’t feel like doing an overnight to get there.

We generally follow locations identified in our pilot, but as in this case, there are many other good anchorages, bays, inlets and rivers not listed in the pilot that can be accessed carefully with an eye on the predominant and predicted wind directions and on the depth sounder, keeping in mind the state of the tide when anchoring. Our chart plotter and GPS have anchor symbols not mentioned in the pilot books, and for Owls Head Bay there was an anchor symbol inside the deep bay. However as we entered we saw a cove on the outside of the bay which was protected from the SW winds and so chose it rather than going farther into the bay. It worked out quite well.

Our anchoring technique works for us. We use a 45 pound claw (a modified Bruce anchor) with up to 200 feet of chain, both considerably heavier than suggested for a 32 foot boat. When we drop anchor, we generally come to a stop into the wind, and lower the anchor as we drift back laying the chain along the bottom. We use from three-to-one to five-to-one scope, calculated from a sum of the depth of water, height of the bow roller and height of high tide. (For example if we are in 12 feet of water and our bow is 5 feet off the water, and high tide will be 3 feet higher than our present level, the total is 20 feet for which we would lay out at least 60 feet if we wanted three to one, or 100 feet if we wanted five to one.) When the appropriate amount is out, I put the engine in reverse at half power to dig the anchor into the bottom. If it does not dig in and stop the boat at half throttle, we do it again until it does grab properly, or relocate. Good ground tackle and good anchoring technique are the best insurance for a cruising boat. 

We were off early next day by 0700, motoring and motorsailing through dense fog the 41 miles to Halifax. At times the fog gave less than 100 feet visibility. We had our navigation lights on, a wise precaution in fog and mandated by the Rules of the Road. Our radar was working quite well and the only objects it picked up were some of the buoys and headlands we passed, even though we could not actually see them.

Our Garmin GPS works well as a chart plotter, allowing us to see our location as we transit our course line on the chart, plus showing all the surrounding points of land, buoys, traffic lanes (in the Halifax approaches), lighthouses, depth contours as would be shown on a paper chart. It gives us additional data including our speed, course being steered, direction and distance to the next waypoint, ETA (Estimated Time of Arrival) at our final course destination, and the distance left or right we are off our course line. Judy plots the course before departure, and we just follow the red course line to our next destination. We can highlight any point on the chart and a text box will come up giving us specific information on whatever point we indicated, such as the height and light characteristics of a lighthouse, depths, and cautions around buoys, narrows or headlands. In addition we can access other text and graphic data for tides and currents, times of sunrise and sunsets and phases of the moon at whatever locations requested.  We can zoom in or out on any chartlet for greater detail. A slightly more sophisticated version than we have will also contain aerial photographs of various ports and other locations such as narrow passages, headlands and harbour entrances. There are even more sophisticated ones that merge the charts with the radar, or can have split screens with different charts or data shown. The advance in electronics is impressive, making navigation much easier and safer.

In addition to our Garmin GPS we have a couple of chart plotting programs on our laptops which have all the charts of the WORLD and which we can hook into the GPS. I mentioned in a previous log the free download of the Open CPN program which is one of the ones we use most now. When we are reading sea stories we can flash up the Open CPN program on our laptop and see the charts of whatever area of the world in which the stories take place. We used it to follow our transit through Chile and down to Antarctica last Christmas.

So, navigating through fog is quite manageable, as long as all systems are operating properly. However constant monitoring of the systems and the Mark One Eyeball are still essential.

The winds were light but the fog persisted as we furled the genoa early, before we entered the Traffic Separation Zones in the Halifax approaches. Judy, being Judy, wanted to call in as ships do to register with the traffic control system, only to be told yachts do not need to do such. Patches of fog cleared periodically so we could see Osbourne Head and Devils Island as we approached the entrance to Halifax. However, we couldn’t see Chebucto Head the far side of the channel. As we turned to starboard to enter the main channel, we saw through the fog the silent grey outline of a 280 tribal class destroyer exiting past McNabs Island (see the attached picture).  There was no other traffic as we motored down past McNabs Island in the main channel. Our destination was the Shearwater Yacht Club located behind McNabs in the Eastern Passage. We could have gone down the Eastern Passage inside McNabs, but we did not want to try it on this our first entrance into Halifax. I had exited and entered Halifax many times when in the Navy, but always through the main passage, and in a sizeable warship such as a frigate or destroyer. We played it safe for this first entry in Veleda.

As we approached McNabs, Judy called the Shearwater Yacht Club (SYC) on channel 16 and 68, but got no response. She then phoned and was welcomed by Pat, the club manager who directed us to pick up a mooring as all dock slips were taken by regular members. Entering Halifax Harbour brought back many memories of my time here with the navy. We motored past the abandoned WW II gun emplacements of the York Redoubt to port and those on McNabs to starboard, and the batteries at Point Pleasant Park. We rounded the north end of McNabs and made our way to starboard across the channel to pick up a mooring buoy off the floating docks and behind a large pier housing a few vessels of the Fleet Diving Unit. We were secure here on the Dartmouth side at SYC, but the fog was still pervasive and so thick that we could not see the Halifax shore a half mile away.