Hairless in Gaza…….

Somewhere on the Eastern seaboard

So, back in Belfast after a wonderful five weeks along the Maine and New Brunswick coast with a side trip to Grand Manan and now wondering whether we can manage to get another few weeks sailing in. We mention this to people and get incredulous looks in response…. The wind chill, they said, can be minus forty but we remained optimistic. And then wandering around a store we come across boots for the winter, thick and waterproof they claim to protect to temperatures of minus eighty……. Can this be true? Piled up in the corner we see a variety of snowshoes for sale! This is a different world; surely snowshoes are a thing of the past, a relic from the comics of my childhood. It seems not and the reality of life here is beginning to seep through to us. Oh well…

Sailing in September and October has been one of the highlights of the trip so far. There are so many anchorages that distances can be whatever you feel you can cope with. Whilst in the Passamaquady Bay we managed a whole four miles between anchorages and other days we managed double figures. We hardly ever went ashore, 3 times in the five weeks, rarely saw another boat, yet would see seals daily, whales from time to time and sea eagles regularly. The anchorages we had to ourselves, yet even had they been crowded the thick, heavy mud bottom would ensure boats rarely dragged. Fog was, thankfully, rare although the one time it came down saw us approaching our stop for the night at dusk, in fog. The entrance, narrow and without buoys we crept through unable to see the shore, some twenty-five metres either side of us. Eventually we made it in and anchored in the wonderfully named Cow Yard sharing the cove with a hundred or so lobster buoys. Ah the lobster buoys. The one bane on the coast. They litter the surface, dropped by fishermen who see themselves as the up holders of the traditions of the Wild West. Rocky outcrop or buoyed channels are all treated with the same scattering of multi coloured plastic. Approach to a major harbour frequented by cruise liners? Same treatment. Some days later we were holed up waiting the passing of one of the northbound hurricanes and into the bay came a large, hundred foot plus, motor yacht preceded by its tender. The tender’s job was to locate the deep water and find some path between the lobster buoys. Well the first part went to plan but the overheard VHF conversation between tender and mother ship had the former congratulating the latter on the fine collection of buoys attached to the starboard stabiliser …………… For anyone thinking of cruising this area, and it should be on any sailors list, the little experience we have would suggest that the best time to visit would be September/October and then remain in the North or dash south once the hurricanes have finished. Earlier in the year, June-August, seem to have a lot of fog and light winds and paradoxically lots of boats.

Whilst we were in Canada the trees began to change colour and daily we were treated to incredible displays of reds and oranges. It really is difficult to adequately describe the hues and depth of colour.  The change is so dramatic that staying in an anchorage for a couple of days gave us a daily change of shade. They are beginning to disappear now but for a few weeks it really is intense and spectacular. If you are contemplating a visit to this part of the world the autumn should be at the top of your list. Cruising amongst islands, watching the leaves, seals and eagles, the number of houses closed up for the winter struck us. Seriously large houses occupying prime pieces of island used for a month or two each year. Whilst in Eastport the most eastern town in the US there seems to be no industry and the town has a feel of being at the end of its life. The US is a country of contradiction and the current election campaign appears to be polarising the country to a frightening extent. The news here is dominated by terrorism, news outside the US hardly exists and the few programmes that exist to provide an alternative viewpoint are funded through public subscription and they use news reports from the BBC. It became more marked when we entered Canada, which appeared much less frenetic, calmer and more civilised.  Still we will see what happens over the next few weeks. Local people tell us we haven’t really seen America, that "out there"(gesturing vaguely toward the west) is a US of very different people.

As we cruised around we kept a close watch on the weather and found that Hurricane Nicole was heading north at a rate of knots. Forecasts were for 55-knot winds and 18-foot seas out around Nova Scotia and we were glad we’d made the decision not to cross over this year but leave it until next. As it was the wind force was increasing dramatically as we made our way to the hurricane hole we had selected to shelter in. We anchored and spent 48 hours sitting it out. Well sheltered, we were more at the mercy of the currents that kept us beam on to the wind. When the gusts hit us Hannah heeled over time after time, making it obvious life was very uncomfortable out at sea. Even the lobster boats stayed at home on the first day leaving us to enjoy a day of complete solitude. The forecast continued to offer strong winds and we reluctantly decided to head back rather than stay out. We spent our last night in Pulpit Harbour, which we both found disappointing. Preparing to leave the following morning we were approached by a lobster boat that suggested we pick up a mooring buoy as very strong winds were again forecast. A kind thought but we were Belfast bound and we headed off into the fog and headwind. A slow, cold beat followed although the current was going our way and eventually we arrived at the wide-open bay that marks the entrance. Fewer boats on the moorings than when we left, and a boatyard working flat out, hauling boats before the expected S Easter hit them. As is frequently the case the blow didn’t arrive but as the bay is completely open to the SE and strong winds generate aggressive seas the locals take no chances. We’re snug of course with one of the large charter schooners berthed outside us, with its decks and booms covered in shrink-wrap for the next six months and resembling a maritime greenhouse.

Toots faced with her own version of Everest.

Sliding is optional on shrink-wrap but claws should be retracted………

This is the choice we now face: do we shrink-wrap or consider a proper winter cover that we can use time and again. Logic suggests that would be the most cost effective course and we’re waiting to see what the local canvas shop will charge. Shrink-wrap is cheap, about $100 or so but is obviously extremely wasteful.

Nov 7^th. We had a short pause as the hoohah of the election gathered pace and we waited with semi bated breath for the only sensible outcome……….but this is the USA and the moral majority, AKA the bigoted right, exerted its wallets and returned Bush with the biggest popular vote in US history. A very depressing outcome.

The canvas cover has been put aside cos we can’t afford it and we decided to utilise the existing tarps we had from the refit. We chose the day the gale force winds arrived and entertained the locals with the first vertical lift off boat as the wind got under the tarp and threatened to lift us out of the water.

Luckily John, who has 200 acres of woodland and farm, came down with timber to build a structure we could nail the tarp to and we are now snugged down for the winter winds, snow and bitter cold. Because it is shaped like the roof of a house climbing the companionway ladder is like entering a house attic without the attendant piles of rubbish.

It’s on John and Mary’s farm that we have been wood-splitting. The layabouts in Quayside marina will remember our (Bee’s) efforts with a small axe. No such problems here as chainsaw, wood maul and hydraulic tree-splitter were all called into service. John, never having seen Bee in full flight, could only look on in amazement as, shouldering us wimpy men aside, she heaved 150 lb tree stumps single-handedly onto the ramp leaving me to operate the tiny lever. Ho hum something’s never change….So now we have a neat pile of split logs hiding under a bit of shrink-wrap on the jetty, in addition to sacks and boxes scattered around the boat. Of course anyone who has ever shared a winter mooring with us would, if walking along the bank, know we were about by the scattering of wood chips from earlier cutting times.

So winter approaches and the live –aboards are almost all gathered. 4 boats are spread between 2 pontoons with 1 more to arrive this week. 3 Americans, 1 Brit and a Dane still to come.  The cold is creeping in although it is probably about the same as the UK . We occasionally look through the photos and marvel at the blue sea and balmy sunshine we left in the south but no regrets so far.

In the picturesque harbour of Blue Hill an ugly rumour is doing the rounds. It seems that a municipal refuse worker was doing his rounds early one morning and he came across a suspicious package lying in a waste bin. Cautiously opening the bag he was horrified to discover what he later told a panic driven mob was the evidence of a mutilation. No doubt about it the Beast of Bodmin had arrived in the US for there lying in a plastic ASDA bag were the shorn tresses of one Bee Bennett…………