Monday morning comes round and with still no cafes or eateries open, this spurs us on to think about leaving for St John’s. We wander round town for one last look and come across this beautiful black cat posing for us. We make a last dash to the Super U to top up on provisions and pack some essential tinned casoulet. When I suggest to F that this will do nicely for dinner this evening, he reminds me that this is for ’later’ in his trip (when I am gone home). I rush back to the aisle to make sure there is another one on the conveyor belt. I’ve had my fill of snacks and soup and fancy something tasty whilst we are at sea.
We motor sail out of the harbour in pretty good visibility but bugger all breeze. Nevertheless we stop the engine and begin to sail slowly east towards Cape Race at the bottom of the Avalon peninsula. It’s about 100 miles away and when the small breeze we have drops, I suggest to F that we start to motor again. This does not go down well. I am reminded that we are sailing. We continue to ‘drift with style’ to the east and eventually the wind gods wake up and give be is a healthy 8-12 knots southerly which speeds us along nicely on a close reach to the cape. It feels great to be actually sailing on my last leg of the trip.
We are close enough to the Newfoundland coast so that mobile service works pretty reliably for most of the time. This is new as we normally rely on Fs Garmin inreach device to get up to date weather forecasts via satellite. We get an updated weather forecast by mobile and south westerlies seem to be on the cards for the next 36 hours which is great for our progress. We belt along towards the cape and look like making over 100 miles in 24 hours. Overnight, I survive on cups of tea and audio books to stay awake( we use red light torches at night to protect night vision) The boat sails itself in these stable conditions so there’s not much to do
Next day, I wake from my morning nap to find F sunbathing butt naked in the warm sun. If you are going to be a naturist, where better to do it than on your own boat in the middle of the North Atlantic. No neighbours to complain.
We reach Cape Race and decide to pass it close in as the southwest winds have been stable for over 24 hours. I am half expecting to be pushed strongly south by the Labrador current as we turn north but it is very mild at about a quarter knot. We hug the coast and try not to have to gybe away out to sea as all these miles are direct towards our destination..and keep this up for a few hours. We can see the coastline only a couple of miles away at times with all the lights and there is definitely a different buzz knowing that this is actually Newfoundland. We have a stowaway in the form of a lost and exhausted dragonfly who stays with us for most of the day.
The wind picks up and we have to reef the main to safely gybe out as we are on course to hit some rocks 3 miles away. Only now the main won’t come down. There is something jamming the sail cars at the top of the mast. F asks me to turn towards the coast where there’s less than a mile of safe water. At this speed that’s only minutes away. It still doesn’t free the cars so we are forced to gybe with the full sail up. It’s a tense moment but we are sailing out into clear water. We deal with the reefing issue offshore and later identify a problem with the rail on the mast. This needs fixing as this will recur.
I retire to bed at 11PM and F takes over the watch. I wake at 3AM to find us 17 miles offshore, in 20 knots of wind and a bouncy sea. It’s pissing rain and F is tired. We make the turn back towards St John’s and are belting along on a broad reach in heaving seas. I am excited but squirming a bit. F stays at the helm hand steering as we surf the rollers for another 90 minutes. It’s not the time to let an inexperienced guy take control. I provide the only things I am qualified to do in this situation, tea and company.
Then it all calms down, the fog lifts (did I not mention that all this was happening in Fog?), the wind drops, the sea calms and the sun comes out(ish). We see the fog blowing over the headland outside the harbour. It is a special moment. We are both wrecked but elated. Sadly our stowaway dragonfly didn’t make it.
Then inevitably, the fog comes back about 2 miles from the harbour mouth. This is after all where fog is made. St Johns is the capital of Newfoundland and a busy fishing and shipping port. Large cruise liners come here weekly as well as all sorts of cargo ships. We hail the port traffic managers on the vhf and announce our intention of entering the harbour. They tell us there is a 100m cargo ship on the way out and we pass port to port a few hundred meters apart but can’t see it. Then weirdly the temperature rises about 10 degrees. I am dressed in foul weather gear with 3 layers of thermals underneath and I start to sweat. There is nothing normal about the weather here.
As we enter the harbour, I get a flashback to the novel ‘The Shipping News’. The crumbly houses overlooking the harbour mouth have fantastic views but somehow look sad. I become aware that this is the last few miles I will sail on this trip.
We tie up next to the coastguard piers and complete customs by phone. No inspection required this time. The fees to tie up here are a bargain compared to the US but it soon becomes apparent why. We are 100m from the new sewage treatment plant and when the wind blows the wrong direction, you get a good whiff. We celebrate safe arrival with a beer at 8AM. Somehow it doesn’t seem weird.
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