Our Epic Voyage

On July 21, we set off from St. Anne de Beaufils to L'Etang du Nord on Isle du Madelaine for what was to be a 126 mile voyage and our first overnight passage – ever. The islands are part of Quebec and lie in the mouth of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. From them the trip to the tip of Cape Breton is only 62 miles and saves us travelling down the Northumberland Strait past New Brunswick and PEI (no offence to dwellers of those two lovely provinces but we are on a tight schedule).

We were travelling with our new friends from Quebec, Richard and Diane on their Whitby 42 called Cap Oceane. This was to be their first passage as well. A quarter of the way there, Maggie noticed the bilge pump running, so I investigated and found a significant leak from our water pump. The shaft seal was defective and needed to be replaced – we had to turn back to make repairs.

The winds were up, so we sailed back, along with Cap Oceane, who stayed with us in case we needed assistance. We set sail for Chandler, a small town 10 miles down the coast from where we sailed earlier in the day. It is a regional centre with excellent services and a cozy marina, where we stayed for the next six days waiting for the replacement part to arrive from Pathfinder Marine. It was a welcome break from the near continuous travelling we had been doing since leaving Toronto on July 1.

The part finally came and I fixed the pump. With last minute provisioning done and a favourable weather window, H2OBO and Cap Oceane were set to try the big passage again.

We departed at 6 am and sailed throughout the day in 15 – 25 knots of wind on the beam. The seas were running 2 – 3 metres, so it was a little rough and not at all what we were accustomed to on Lake Ontario. Our boat handled the conditions beautifully with 2 reefs in the main, the yankee and the stay sail flying. As dusk approached, the winds started to die down and veer. This left us motoring through confused seas toward the islands until we got a radio call from Cap Oceane. Their engine failed to start.

We turned back to render any support we could offer them, but had to travel into the swells to reach them since we were about 3 miles ahead of them. By the time we got to them, Richard had managed to restart the engine and they commenced motoring toward the islands, since we had already passed the point of no return. After about half an hour, a lovely breeze picked up from our stern quarter and we sailed a broad reach through the night, steering with our Cape Horn wind pilot (an awesome piece of equipment). A beautiful bright moon hung over us and lit our passage through the night. Maggie and I took one hour shifts on watch to make sure we kept a respectable amount of sea room between us and Cap Oceane and to make sure we stayed on our route. We would make landfall at day break near a rock, Le Corps Mort, a few miles offshore and wanted to keep a respectful distance away.

Sunrise

Right on schedule, the island loomed in the dim light, and even though we were a couple of miles off, it felt like we were too close and the rock was drawing us closer. There were no beacons on the rock and I wondered how many mariners long ago might have soiled their drawers by finding themselves unexpectantly bearing down on this rock in the gloom or fog.

Millerand beach

Well, we made it into a little fishing harbour called Millerand and tied up to a lobster fishing boat. We helped Cap Oceane to the wharf as they limped in with a failing engine. It turned out to be clogged fuel filters caused by bad diesel churning up in the lumpy seas. With our first passage logged and after sleeping for a few hours in the morning, Maggie and I walked to a nearby village where we had a cod dinner and sugar pie – yum yum. Tomorrow we will sail to the other side of the island and check out new sources of pie. Life is great!

Branko