47:34.3N 52:42.26W
Nimble Ape II
Chris and Jules Stanham
Thu 19 Jul 2012 15:20
A couple of ‘issues’ have caused another little diversion – this time to St John’s in Newfoundland, which must be near the top of the list for places we had never imagined visiting! It feels somewhat as if we are teetering on the edge, unable to make that decisive leap to actually cross the Atlantic Ocean, as we edge up the coast of Canada. With a diversion of only 70 miles, it seemed sensible to stop by and refuel after a ridiculous amount of motoring after leaving Halifax on Sunday morning. Then, to add to the list of minor hitches, we discovered water leaking into the bilges from a mysterious source, plus the inverter packed in – leaving us unable to charge stuff without using the batteries. Soon there will be nothing left on the boat to break.
Last Friday in Halifax it had all looked promising as we heard the new sails had touched down on schedule at 9am. However, customs excelled themselves and we were still waiting at Dartmouth Marina 12 hours later as darkness descended. The sailmaker successfully extracted the sails from the obstructive officials and turned up as promised at 8am on Saturday – only for us to discover the main sail was a foot short. As it seems are many things in life – hence the new theme of the trip!
No wind was forecast so we decided to leave in the morning and to pass the afternoon we rafted up in the bay of a nearby island, alongside one of the many new Halifax ‘contacts’ the guys have cultivated. I ended up talking to an old, live-aboard man of the sea, with many stories and few teeth, known as the Wanderer on his very aptly-named yacht ‘Wanderer’. I left a couple of hours later with a bag of books, some specs for Barra and three vodkas inside me. I also returned to Nimple Ape with a definite feeling of inadequacy after hearing about his encounter with pirates, surviving a lightning strike and various other solo passages.
The first cloudy morning in a week in Halifax seemed an appropriate time to leave. That, plus the fact that the guys had done a pretty good job of drinking the town dry. I also need to get away from land so I can stop hearing myself described to people as the ‘lady owner’, as it makes me feel about 75. After a couple of interesting incidents navigating our way out into open water from Halifax town centre where the charted depths proved a little ‘optimistic’, we broke through the fog and began motoring east. Ricardo began counting down the miles, every mile, from 3283, which is already getting old. And he knows that.
Cloudy, windless conditions continued on Monday, meaning we were all going insane with the constant engine noise. A few whale sightings have lifted spirits, but foul weather gear, wellies and hats are making an appearance which is never good. Then Drew started doing something with Vaseline and a carrot. Finally the inverter blew up which gave Barra and Ricardo something to do.
Tuesday presented us with some more entertainment in the shape of water leaking into the bilges, which confirmed our decision to stop by at St John’s. Our first day on the notorious Grand Banks was spent motor/sailing in dull, chilly weather – not the sunny, downwind sailing I had signed up for. Meanwhile, Ricardo surpassed himself by demolishing a burger, onions, mushroom fry-up at 6am, chunky soup at 1pm, chilli tortillas at 1.30pm and again at 6pm, with copious amounts of cookies/crisps inbetween. Calories apparently don’t count when on a boat. The fog lived up to expectations by descending in the evening and sticking around all night.
The fog was still pressing in on my 6am watch on Wednesday. I was saved a more stressful watch when, after my shift had finished, Ricardo informed me ice bergs were possible in this region. So instead of peering through the murk for lurking bergs, I had happily watched the puffins and witnessed a huge whale launch itself out of the water. We finally had a chance to put the cruising chute up in the afternoon which enabled us to reach up to 10kts – now this is what it should always be like. Although speeding along with the big sail is glorious, I can’t quite yet rid myself of the notion that disaster is imminent whenever it is deployed, due to past experiences! But, all went well, and even the getting up and putting away parts of the procedure went relatively smoothly – apart from the odd frantic moment, scramble, slip and, in Barra’s case, the loss of a layer of skin on his palm. The fog cleared as we neared the narrow-ish entrance to St John’s at about 8pm and we rafted up for the night in a harbour which looked like it was once beautiful, surrounded by towering cliffs cloaked in greenery. However, it is now full of working vessels and industrial buildings and the water, we have been warned, is toxic and pretty much lethal on contact.
Now we are preparing to refuel, re-water, fix the inverter and investigate the bilge leak. Then, as this is the nearest land to Europe, we really will have to make the leap.
Jules
Pictures: Not what I signed up for - Drew and Barra in the fog over the Grand Banks and the approach to St John's, Newfoundland
