Retour - Trepassey to ... SPM

Onwards, this blog will not be about visiting new interesting places, it will be about making it home: much more utilitarian I fear. There wont be much pictures, because the days will be (hopefully) mostly at sea. And, being on my own, I will probably let the narration drift to the technicalities of the trip. 

 I start watching the weather. From now on, this is one of my main activities (and source of worries). So, let me explain:

I have 3 sources of weather: the Marine text forecast (an internet page from the Canadian met agency), wind that map to charts (Sailflow, or the weather data for TimeZero – the boat navigation software- , or Grib files that I sometimes use for running routing programs). When offshore (no internet access), I can request forecasts from my InReach beacon, which works with satellites, like Iridium;

With InReach I can also communicate by text messages: I have asked Eric to assist me in with the routing for my trip down to NewEngland: once I am offshore, it is much more difficult for me to have awareness of the general situation. This is of particular relevance for this trip, because  it will be crucial to get warnings for hurricanes as soon as possible.  Mairéad also watches.

My plan is to sail directly to Canso, in NovaScotia, which should take 3 to 4 days. The forecast  is not great, adverse winds all the way, with episodes at 25Kts. What makes the plan difficult, is that I am not sure what kind of progresses I can make in those conditions, it will depend a lot on the sea state. As I am trying to work something out, Mairéad advises me of a gale developing on the  Carolina coast, that will reach me by Saturday. I have a very brain-wracking evening, trying to find a workable strategy: I have to make sure to reach some shelter by Saturday. I decide finally to let a first blow by in this evening, leave next day early, and sail a course in proximity of StPierreMiquelon, with the option to stop there in case I see I cannot make it on time before the gale hits.

Leaving Trepassey is really bleak moment – up at 0400, it is cold, it is pouring rain. The first hours are slow, I have to struggle to pass the cape Pine, followed by a more productive stretch alongside the coast. Unfortunately, this is quite short and the rest of the day is beating in increasing wind. The forecast call for NW but the actuality is more like SW, and I miss 20 degrees to progress as I had planned; but I press on regardless, bating small tacks towards the West. By noon next day, I am reasonably pleased with my progresses (although it is a mere 80 nautical on the direct route), even though the wind was actually more in the 25-28 knots than 20-25. I exchange a few texts with Eric on my chances of reaching Canso; it is a very tough call for me – in the good scenario,  I might beat the gale to Canso by a mere few hours. If I don’t reach Canso, I will lose an “opportunity” that might be difficult to find again. But the wind is weakening and shifting more against me, and it looks like the good scenario is a slipping by. By early afternoon, I decide that I cannot make it to Canso, and turn to SPM instead. Heading there in the afternoon is actually a very nice sail, sunny and stable.  I am frustrated, but also pleased to have left Trepassey and be on my way: if I had stayed there marooned for a few more days, I would have gone crazy. Not only because of the place, but because of the growing anxiety of letting the days fly by.

A few words about the passage. For sure, I inflicted more impact to the boat during those 24 hours, than we had in the whole trip so far ( I speak to the boat slamming down from wave crests – Sélune has a large flat chime at the bottom, that can create some shocks).  Then, I had a collision with some animal. I would say a moonfish: it was softer than hitting something mineral, big enough to nearly stop the boat travelling at 5 knots; but not stop it dead (like a 10 ton whale would do). Still, some shock, reverberating in the rigging. Very startling (in ¼ second: “rock !!! no that cannot be a rock!! “).  No apparent damage. I also hit a couple of nasty waves, a reminder that although the sea state was manageable, it could degenerate quickly. 

It was a bumpy 24 hours; I had to tape Ali's mascot (and lash the table)