Brian Russell 10/31/24 Brian Russell 10/31/24

London Diaries #1

Helacious arriving at our winter home. Thank you Michal for the image.

The North Sea crossing from Ijmuiden, Netherlands to the UK was fast and busy. No napping on this 165nm passage, what with the oil rigs, wind farms, fishing boats and lots of ship traffic. The wind was perfect, a steady 15-25kt aft of the beam. We arrived in Stangate Creek, at the mouth of the Medway River, mid-morning. We caught up on sleep and got things ready for the ride up the Thames the following day. The timing was all about the tide. Ebb tide was over at 6.45am, so we left the anchorage at 6.30am, using the last of the tide to get out of the Medway and into the Thames estuary. Then we had the flood tide in our favor, all the way into the center of London.

Leaving Stangate Creek, the cranes on the Isle of Grain were lit up like Christmas trees.

The majority of the trip was not particularly scenic. Marshes that had not changed since the time of Dickens. Industrial quays with huge cranes and conveyors.

There was only one bridge to pass under, fortunately with plenty of clearance. And then, around the bend, the City appeared just as we were approaching the Thames Barrier. We had to call the Barrier on the VHF radio to obtain permission to pass, which was immediately granted.

Now the scenery got a lot more interesting, along with the river boat traffic. The Uber boats and ferries sped by, their huge wakes leaving us bouncing around. First we passed the Docklands development and the huge O2 arena.

Then we went by Greenwich. Many memories here. We almost caught the moment when Helacious passed from the Eastern hemisphere to the Western at the Prime Meridian, but we were distracted.

The incredible development of Canary Wharf, both towering skyscrapers and the old dockland buildings repurposed as very desirable residences.

The City, and just around the next bend…….

We had timed our arrival perfectly. It was close to Spring tides, and due to high water the lock into St Katharine’s Docks had limited opening times. The marina gave us a window of 90 minutes to get in, and we nailed it.

Helacious locking in to the marina. The neighborhood is not too shabby!

Upon arrival, boat maintenance was a priority; washing and drying the sails, then packing them up for storage. Cleaning and painting the anchor chain where the galvanizing had started to break down and rust - the chain is only a year old ! We got travel passes sorted, found hair dressers and offices for doctor and dentists and also joined a gym to try and stay in shape while staying put in one place. There was still time to explore the immediate neighborhood.

After a week it was time to go on an adventure. The bus is the best way to see the neighborhoods and get orientated. We started at Paddington Station and walked along Regents canal through Little Venice.

The canal leads to St Johns Wood where the houses are definitely more upmarket, after which we climbed up Primrose Hill for a view over London.

View from our lunch spot on Primrose Hill.

Walking back down and through Regents Park to Marylebone, we passed by the impressive St James Church, squeezed in by development all around. We visited Daunt Books, great for travel books, and the fine art in the Wallace Collection.

On a Saturday morning we were invited by neighbors to go for a walk in the neighborhood to our east, Wapping, which is the start of the docklands. We walked along the remnants of old canals and turning basins that made up the old London docks which had opened in 1805, and in its heyday had room for over 300 ships. The protected waters meant that once the ships were in the docks they could be unloaded and loaded in a secure space, without consideration of tides and the pirates that plied the Thames. The whole area covered 90 acres and was surrounded by a wall for security, with many multi-story warehouses that could store the goods. These warehouses are now converted into very ritzy and pricey apartments. The names, Gunnery Wharf, Ivory House, Spirit Quay and Tobacco Dock tell of times past.

We watched the weekend water polo match being played in the Shadwell turning basin. The Thames Walk passed by a number of stone stairs that have allowed access to the Thames shoreline for centuries, names like Alderman’s Stairs and Executioners Dock. The waterside pubs along here are also quite historical, The Prospect of Whitby, Captain Kidd, and The Town of Ramsgate. The latter, established in 1600’s, has large cellars where those unfortunate enough to be caught by the Press Gangs were held before being sent off to sea. Also miscreants and criminals were often kept there, prior to starting their long journey to Australia.

One of the pleasures of this part of London are the many markets that exist: Borough Market, Spitalfields Market, Brick Lane Market and Camden Lock Market to name just a few. In the past they sold produce, which shifted to household goods and clothing. These days they are more often a source of vintage items, a foodies paradise and great street food. On our walk we stumbled across a small market, Wapping Docklands Market, seemingly only attended by local families. The bread and cheese was the same sold at the more famous Borough Market, but without the crowds. We enjoyed a food truck lunch with live music then wandered back home.

Another day out took us to north London and we explored the Highgate area. The walk along a trail developed from a disused rail line took us to the heart of Highgate. The famous cemetery and the quirky Holly Village were interesting to see.

We have settled into our new home. We are looking forward to exploring more with our upcoming guests and celebrating Christmas in London. Visitors beware!!

Follow our progress on our tracking page. https://forecast.predictwind.com/tracking/display/SVHelacious/

Brian Russell 10/14/24 Brian Russell 10/14/24

A Last Hurrah.

Helacious moored alongside a Dutch canal in Friesland.

The trip from the Kiel canal down the Elbe River to Cuxhaven harbor was a wild ride. We had timed the exit from the canal perfectly to catch the ebb current and we flew down the side of the channel, reaching speeds of 10kt at some points. The problem arises when you want to exit this fast stream and head out of the channel into your harbor. The cross currents were wicked. We were warned of this by Jacob and Anneke, and also followed their track on the chart-plotter, so we knew to approach at a very acute angle. Even with this knowledge, it was high fives all around once we got into the sheltered harbor and were tied up safely.

We waited out some high and contrary winds for a couple of days, then timed our exit to catch the ebb tide again; we ventured forth into the Elbe. The passage from the North Sea into Hamburg is a busy shipping lane and the estuary is extremely shallow, apart from the channel which is heavily dredged to keep it open. In some places there was barely 500ft between the channel marker and the shallows, a mere 5ft depth. Even though we tried our best to stay just outside the channel, avoiding the large ships, at this point we opted to save the boat and move inside the channel. Within 15 minutes we were hailed on the radio by German Naval control, informing us we were in the channel and should exit. We mentioned the shallow water, limited space and very choppy waves, but to no avail. We therefore confirmed we would change course accordingly. We did, but very slowly, finally reaching an area with more depth outside the channel, well after the point where we were challenged. Later, on thinking about this, we confirmed with friends that we were not actually in the wrong. The channel is there for all. It was a little later, exiting the Elbe, that there is a Traffic Separation Zone (TSZ) where there are strict rules for directional travel.

Helacious sailing into the sunset. Photo courtesy of Jacob and Anneke on SV Kim.

The passage was overnight, sailing under a beautiful starlight sky, weaving between parked container ships and fishing vessels, to the entrance between the Frisian Islands. We had arrived in the Netherlands.

There were two options for our journey to the Thames, and our final destination of London. The direct route is along the coast of the Netherlands, where the waters are shallow and there are few safe harbors. The alternative is to journey THROUGH the countryside, along the extensive canal system via a route that has all opening bridges, and as such is known as “Staande Mast Route”, (Standing Mast Route).

Sailing in Norway and Sweden the depths were frequently 50 feet or more just an arm’s length from the rocks. Approaching Holland the channel to enter began over 3 miles off shore, seabirds standing on the sands just 20 feet from our bow. The sands constantly shift, and our charts were incorrect in a couple of places. But we followed the buoys and avoided running aground.

There was a sealock which we entered at Lauwersoog, dropping us about 3ft into the freshwater estuary. As we headed down the channel toward another lock that would drop us even lower, we saw a number of these traditional commercial boats out for a sail. They have a flat bottom with no keel, needing only about 2ft of water to move around. The leeboards on the side of the hull can be lowered in the water when sailing. Perfect design for these waters.

The second lock dropped us a further 6ft into the beginning of the canal system. We travelled in a east to west direction across the northern part of the Netherlands, Friesland. It was beautiful pastoral countryside. The signposts informed us of our route, the side channels lead off into the fields. Friendly folk waved from the banks and at one point we floated over a highway.

Every few miles there was a road bridge that we had to pass through. The procedure was to call them on the radio once we were in sight of the bridge. There was a light system in operation. Red meant it was closed. Once we had called, the bridge attendant prepared the bridge for opening by stopping the traffic. This would sometimes take quite a while, so adjusting our approach speed was always a gamble. The road barriers would descend and the bridge start to open. The lights would change to red and green, meaning approach the bridge. Finally when the bridge was fully open and it was safe to pass, the light would turn green. Then we had to quickly transit, so as not to keep the road traffic waiting too long. All this was fine in light winds, but became increasingly difficult as it became more gusty.

The bridges came in all sorts, mostly cantilevered lifting bridges, but there were some swing bridges and one unique one, where the road section was lifted and twisted off to the side.

In this case we started through too early. It was close!

The distance from Lauwersoog to Harlingen and the IJsselmeer, the large body of water we have to cross to get to Amsterdam, was only 35 miles as the crow flies. However with all the bridges and wonderful small towns along the route, it actually took us 4 days.

Our first stop was Dokkum.

We treated ourselves to lunch, meeting Salvatore, owner of the restaurant. He had just hung up the partially dried tomatoes his mother had sent him from Naples. The food was delicious.

After lunch a walk around the town, to inspect a couple of well restored windmills.

It was possible to climb inside and up to the platform, see where the grain was ground to flour, and check out the sails. They were reefed in high winds, just like a sailboat. Chatting to the guide, he asked if we would like to go higher, past the barrier and up where the cogs and wheels were. The guts of the windmill. Of course we said yes.

Moving on, we enjoyed the Dutch houses, many roofed with a combination of tile and thatch.

The capital of Friesland is Leeuwarden. The Gothic bell tower built in 1500’s leaned alarmingly. There was a reason they did not finish it, they assumed it would fall. The narrow roads lined with elegant houses, many with ornate exteriors made for a pleasant morning stroll.

We moved on, the next stop was the old university town of Franeker. Here we wanted to visit the Eise Eisinga Planetarium, recently awarded UNESCO World Heritage status. In 1774, Eise Eisinga, a wool carder and amateur astronomer started to build a mechanical planetarium in the ceiling of his living room. He built it, in part, to help explain to the townsfolk that the end of the world would not come due to an imminent alignment of the planets.

The main model of the solar system, which is remarkably accurate to this day, has the planetary orbits to scale (exception being Uranus which was not known at that time), moving in real time. Every 4 years it has to be reset, to compensate for leap year.

In addition to the solar system model, the surrounding panels had a clock, a calendar, phases of the moon and other astrological indictors. The board that records the year has to be repainted every 22 years.He left a full instruction manual on how to maintain it, which is used to this day. It was truly remarkable. And there, in the wall was his bed, with the drawer beneath for the children.

The ceiling was dropped down, with the machinery, cogs, pulleys and the pendulum clock that runs all of the action, suspended just above.

One of the orreries on display in the small, but quite delightful planetarium.

Moving on, always moving on. We make our final stop on the Dutch canals in the seaport of Harlingen. Here we get a close up look at the many sea barges that ply the shallow inland seas of Holland. Most are now used as tourist charters, taking guests for cruises up to the Fresian Islands. The traditional rigging and mechanical aesthetic hit home with Brian.

The canals, weaving their way throughout the town, were old. The operating system was rack and pinion. Different from the lever used in Scotland.

Fall had arrived, the leaves were so pretty, but still an indicator we needed to keep moving.

We checked out the traditional blue tilework, and bought a small souvenir. You cannot have large ones on a boat.

Now we were out of the canals and had to sail across the Ijslemeer, a shallow inland sea, toward Amsterdam,. We arrived in Enkhuizen, the half way point, and found the outer harbor full of the huge ships we had admired so much in Harlingen. It turns out it was race weekend. The annual Clipper Race was to start the next day and 29 of these enormous barges were filling the harbor. Fortunately we were able to enter the inner harbor and scored a spot on the wall.

The next day we watched the start of the race. All boats had to anchor out and on the signal the race started, raising the sails and sailing off anchor .

It was quite the spectacle. Once they had gone, we could leave. A couple of days later and we were through Amsterdam, opting to pass on by as we have visited on previous occasions. We staged on the western shore of the Netherlands, waiting for the weather window to cross over to Britain.

This trip through the northern Holland was un unexpected delight. It felt like a last hurrah before we tie our lines up for a six month stay in London. We had intended to pass by Friesland and enter the canals at Harlem and travel south past Rotterdam. However I think we ended up experiencing a gentler side of Holland. The small canals, quaint towns and lovely countryside. And now to make that North Sea crossing…..

Follow our progress on our tracking page. https://forecast.predictwind.com/tracking/display/SVHelacious/

Brian Russell 10/6/24 Brian Russell 10/6/24

Taking the Shortcut.

Leaving Sweden we motor across the Kattegat, the body of water that separates Sweden from Denmark. We stop for a day on the Danish island, Læsø. The difference between the two is immediately apparent - sand.

Only 30nm west of Sweden and we are on an island that is basically a sandbar. There is one boulder in the island, which is listed as a tourist attraction (Store Pigesten, if you don’t believe me). We were not here to see rocks however, we had come to see the houses thatched in Eelgrass and visit the Salt factory.

Eelgrass is a stringy weed that we were only just begining to encounter. It can mess up the propellor if you run through a patch, and it catches on the fishing line. Ask us how we know. It is quite common here on Læsø, so much so that it was collected from the beaches, dried, and used to thatch the half timbered houses. We found a number of houses thatched this way, some in better state of repair than others, including one house where they were actually working on the roof. We saw the rolls of Eel grass, talked to the builder and found out the grass is laid about a meter thick and can last for over 200-400 years, much longer than a traditional thatch roof (presumably with regular maintenance).

Then it was off to find the Salt factory. We rented bicycles for the day and enjoyed the flat landscape., cycling along the south coast and tidal saltmarsh. In the Middle Ages Læsø was famous for its salt industry. It declined over time due to deforestation but since the mid 1980’s has been resurrected as an archaeological experiment.

The island is situated over a layer of blue clay which retains the sea water and concentrates it over time. This water, with a salinity of 12-14%, is pumped up and delivered to tanks in the many buildings making up the factory.

The salt factory buildings with insulating turf roofs.

The water tanks are heated from below by wood burning ovens. After three days the salinity has increased sufficiently for salt to start crystallizing on the surface, where it is collected every morning.

A new tank of water is kept moving as it slowly concentrates over the first three days of heating.

The morning's harvest of salt from one tank.

Unfortunately we were too late to see the collection of salt, but the baskets of freshly collected salt draining on the tank edge was pretty impressive. Along with the salt crystalizing on the surface, calcium carbonate also precipitates out and is removed daily.

The crystals were beautiful, and so big. It tasted really good too. After drying for a few days it gets packed up, ready for sale.

We cycle back to Helacious and the next day leave for mainland Denmark.

It is now late September and we are on a bit of a mission to make tracks. Having said that we could not pass by our friends Jette and Peter in Aalborg. We met them in Dominica over 3 years ago, where we were all part of the same covid pod. It was fun to catch up – thank you so much for your hospitality and route planning advice!

We continue south, down the eastern coast of Denmark. So different from the coastline we have been looking at all summer. Here the cliffs are made of sand and the grassy hills roll away to the hinterland. Unfortunately, we do not have the time to explore Denmark fully. We travel all day, then pull into a marina or anchorage for the night, repeat the next day. The wind stops blowing and the fog descends. We are so glad to have the radar operating again.

Once again the architecture tells us we are in a different country.

We sail on down out of Denmark and into Germany. Our friends Birthe and Jochen, who we first met about two years ago in Porto Santo, Madeira, and again a number of times in the Caribbean, live in Flensburg. We tied up in their home marina and with their help did a number of boat projects and a MASSIVE re-provision. Yes, some of that might be wine. Don’t judge!

We did also manage to find the time to be tourist for a day. Flensburg is an old port town, and home of Glücksburg Castle. Built in the 16th century it was the seat for the Danish monarchy for many years; the House of Glücksburg is related to almost all the European monarchies. It was a rainy day, so perfect to explore inside.

Inside the vaulted ceilings, spacious light rooms and beautiful wood floors made it a very liveable castle, as castles go. The chapel in the basement was lovely, with decorative painted ceiling and organ.

The paintings of previous residents made me smile. Such dandies and horrors!

The center of Flensburg was also interesting to wander around with the old facades and my favorite: little alleyways to explore.

We leave our friends after a wonderful visit and sail south to the entrance of the Kiel canal, our 61 mile shortcut to the North Sea. The next morning we tie up alongside a large tanker and enter the freshwater canal. The traffic through the canal was not too busy, but the boats were huge.

The canal was too long to complete in a day, in addition the weather was foul at the western end, so we took our time and stopped overnight in a couple of places. We met Anneke and Jacob, Dutch sailors who provided us with a wealth of information about sailing in the Netherlands.

One of the stops was Rendsburg, nothing particularly special, but once again, the character of the old buildings scattered throughout town made for a lovely morning stroll.

One of the more alarming things we came across in the transit of Kiel canal was this cable car. It transports pedestrians and a car, suspended under the railroad bridge, just about boat height above the water.

The following day we exited the lock into the Elbe River estuary, ready to enter the North Sea, the last stretch before reaching the Thames and our home for winter.

Follow our progress on our tracking page https://forecast.predictwind.com/tracking/display/SVHelacious/

Brian Russell 9/17/24 Brian Russell 9/17/24

Sweden Rocks

We enter Sweden, and the sun comes out; at least that is how it feels. Our first stop is the Koster Islands in the very north, just over the border from Norway. This small archipelago is made of two main islands, Nordkoster and Sydkoster with many beautifully maintained hiking trails and no cars. The primary mode of transport is the bicycle, and some are motorized and adapted for transporting stuff. There is a small pedestrian cable ferry that connects the two islands.

We spend a couple of days in the small marina. It is so much easier to hop on and off the boat when tied to a dock. The walks around Nordkoster are lovely, with pine and birch forest, sandy beaches and heather covered rocks to scramble across. Finding the marks indicating the trail, especially across the rocky areas, made it feel like a treasure hunt.

From the peak on Nordkoster looking southwest.

It began to feel quite autumnal. There were apple trees laden with ripe fruit and the Rowan trees and native wild plum were also looking very productive (though tasted bad, so said my tester).

We then move down to a lovely anchorage, off a long beach on Sydkoster and we spend a couple of days there, enjoying the sunny weather and more trails. It was even warm enough for a dip.

Moving on south, we have a lovely gentle sail down to Fjällbacka, passing the small island Dannholmen where Ingrid Bergman spent her summers and where her ashes were scattered.

Modest summer residence of Ingrid Bergman with a dove sculpture.

The town of Fjällbacka was a good stop. Huge cliffs dominate what was once a small fishing village. It has grown since Ingrid Bergman’s day, and is now the headquarters of Tetra-Pak. Just behind the marina, steps led us up to a slot between towering rock faces where four giant boulders hung above. I couldn’t help but hold my breath as I walked beneath.

View from the top overlooking Fjällbacka and skerries to the west.

The following day we rented bicycles from the local campground and set off to explore more rocks. These were different – Bronze Age rock art. There is a UNESCO World Heritage site near the town of Tanumshede. A little closer and without the tourist buses and interpretation center, was Vandring Världsarv, a less developed 5km circular loop through the countryside, visiting 3 sites with plenty of examples for our delight.

Rock face covered with Bronze age images.

Some of the carvings were highlighted with red paint to help visualize them. Others were harder to see. Brushes were provided to sweep away the leaves that were falling all around.

The hike was lovely too, through mossy woods with so many different fungi. I am not yet ready to test my plant identification skills by eating any, but I do enjoy taking their photos.

The rock art continued. Ships with acrobats and a large fishing net between two boats. The sheer number was amazing….. and why here? We wondered what more lay beneath the other moss and lichen covered rocks all around.

During the walk we met a lovely couple, Christina and Jan, who we chatted with at various stops along the way. We told them about our travelling lifestyle and were delighted to find them waiting at Helacious when we got home. Of couse a cup of tea was in order.

The weather forecast predicted a few lovely sunny days with warm temperatures and light winds. We did not want to waste such weather on motoring south, so we tucked into a nearby anchorage between the islands of Gluppö and Fläskön. Here we spent two beautiful days amongst the golden granite rocks so typical of this part of the Swedish coastline. We still preferred to anchor in the middle and not tie up to the many bolts that were provided along the rock faces. The exception was for Dingbat, the dinghy.

Handy bolts to secure the dinghy; useful in the absence of trees or sandy beaches.

We even managed a couple of lovely sunsets. Finally it felt like summer.

The wind filled in a couple of days later and we took advantage of it and sailed south to Smögen. Here we filled the fuel tanks (our first fill up since Inverness in Scotland) and anchored just offshore.

Smögen clinging to bare rocks, not a tree in sight.

The next day we sailed inland and made our way up a narrow channel to visit Bassholmen, the site of a wooden boat museum and restoration center. The museum was officially closed, but there were still plenty of people around and we could see a number of the boats that were being worked on or had been restored.

A new project boat for the museum at Bassholmen.

We had one more day of fine weather as we visited Gullholmen, the oldest fishing village on Sweden’s west coast. It is a mass of small houses packed onto a tiny island. The path (no roads) wove between the homes and often right across their gardens or decks. It was delightful to meander our way through, catching glimpses of the water through alleyways.

The next day the weather changed and we moved Helacious over to Ellös where we had an appointment the following day for a private tour of the Halberg Rassy factory. Stefan, the Quality Control manager, gave us a fascinating glimpse into how these top quality blue-water sailboats are manufactured. The care and pride they take in the design and the building process was inspirational. We were shown the woodshop and the assembly sheds. The fiberglass work is done at another site and the bare hulls are delivered to Ellös for everything to be installed. Each boat is then taken on sea trials for up to 3 weeks to test it all (mostly electronic issues) before being handed off to the new proud owner.

Above, the woodshop with stacks of oak, mahogany and teak. The teak decks are individually crafted. If you select this option, for a 34ft boat, it will cost you an additional $60,000. The interior of the HR boats have lovely sinuous curves, created, we discovered, by lamination in complex heated molds.

The bare hull is delivered with all exterior paint, gelcoat, trim and bulkheads installed. It is then slipped into a bay in the assembly sheds where it will stay until everything has been installed. The full floor at deck level makes it so easy for the work to get done.

The bare hull, a starting point. Then in go the tanks, electronics, finish woodwork and cushions.

The weather was foul and we left Ellös to head south, choosing to motor the inland route in protected waters rather than face high seas going offshore. We pulled into Marstrand, a historic town and tied up to the town dock. In high season we have been told this place is a zoo, but now it is midweek and off season, so there is no problem finding a spot. The disadvantage of traveling out of season is many tourist spots have closed. The restaurants are all on weekend-only schedule (if that) and the castle was also shuttered. A real shame as I wold have loved to look around and learn some Swedish history.

Marstrand town center is dominated by the castle. As it was closed we explored the streets of the old town.

We walked around the castle, the incredibly thick walls maybe explaining how it has withstood attacks from those pesky Danes and Norwegians over the years.

Then around the rest of the island. There were bathing spots for guys and gals, lovely sheltered pools and of course lots of rock.

Our time in Sweden was coming to an end. We had one last stop to make before we turned west.

Rörö is a small and popular fishing village about an hour’s sail from Götenburg. We arrived early on a Friday afternoon and took the coveted alongside-spot on the main dock. There was then a steady stream of boats arriving and tying up, squeezing themselves in to the tiny and shallow harbor. The forecast of a sunny weekend this late in the season probably explains the crowd. We were joined at the end of the day by friends Jennie and Olof, who we had met back in Norway on the island of Kvitsøy.

Cementing our friendship with a dram or two.

We took a picnic and walked around the island, most of which is a nature reserve, complete with a herd of “wild” horses. The driftwood shack was a fun find, made over the years as building supplies got swept onto the beaches.

And just like that, after a couple of delicious dinners onboard our two boats, it was time to say goodbye, not only to Jennie and Olof, but to Sweden. We parted ways and tucked into a sheltered anchorage. Time to prepare the boat for the crossing on to new lands.

We will miss the beautiful rocks of Sweden.

Follow our progress on our tracking page https://forecast.predictwind.com/tracking/display/SVHelacious/

Brian Russell 8/30/24 Brian Russell 8/30/24

The gentler side of Norway.

We arrive in Haugesund, just 5 miles south of Røvaer, where we departed Norway two years ago, ready to pick up our exploration of the amazing Norwegian coastline. We tie up to the town wharf and celebrate a smooth and fast North Sea crossing with a dram of our Scottish Whisky. It was Saturday and so quiet. A few people walking around, a couple of cars drove by. The rather cool and overcast weather maybe dissuading holidaymakers despite it being the first weekend in August. In the afternoon we located the police station and checked in to Norway.

The oil platform being repaired in the harbor towered over the old waterfront warehouses. The statue of Haugesund’s (grand) daughter, Marilyn Monroe was an unexpected find. Her father, a local baker, emigrated to America.

It is so interesting how architecture varies from culture to culture. We are just 300 miles across the North Sea yet the solid masonry of Scotland is replaced by much more delicate wooden sided older buildings, varied rooflines and lovely slate tiles. There are a lot of very modern houses too, mostly very well done, in harmony with the environment. I enjoy spotting them with binoculars as we sail by.

The journey south started the following day. We anchored overnight in a protected spot, weaving our way in between rocky islets. The next day we sailed to Stavanger, the small town that boomed with the development of North Sea oil. We visited the Norsk Oljemuseum, which was very interesting, detailing not only the discovery and exploitation of the fields, but the development of equipment and drilling methods.

Old Stavanger, with its narrow cobbled streets, wraps around the downtown harbor, or Vagen. We however opted to stay at a quieter marina across the bridge, away from the noise and wakes of tour boats.

We had just arrived when we got a message from Kjetil and Marit, sailors we had met on the dock in northern Norway over 2 years ago. We had sailed right by their home in Stavanger and they had been watching out for us. We had a wonderful evening, discussing cruising plans and boats. All good stuff, thank you both so much for your hospitality.

The following day we left under low clouds and scattered showers and headed inland with considerable faith in the forecast, to see the famous Lysefjord and Pulpit Rock. As we approached the sun shone through the clouds and we enjoyed the vistas down the fjord and the massive cliffs towering above.

For scale search for the sailboat at the base of the sheer rock face.

This was really the last of the large dramatic fjords, from now on the landscape becomes more mellow, worn down by glacial activity eons past. After leaving Lysefjord we headed to offshore islands to wait for weather to take us south. The wind does not cooperate, it is from the south, but Kvitsøy could not have been a more charming place to be waiting.

We spend a pleasant few days here, meeting new friends Jennie and Olof, and together we have a picnic in the hikers day hut. It is free and open for all to use, complete with wood burning stove, knitted slippers and sheepskin rugs.

After saying farewell to our friends we set sail south, initially planning to get around the southern cape of Norway in an overnight passage. However the wind was a lot lighter than predicted and the seas still sloppy so it was slow going. We ended up stopping for the night, and continuing the following day, rounding the “notorious Lindesnes headland with a ferocious reputation” under blue skies and with the engine on.

Norway’s first lighthouse was built on Lindesnes in 1655; the current one is also the site of a Lighthouse museum. Unfortunately we could not stop, but continued on to a beautiful anchorage, sheltered among rocky islands. We were now on the south coast and about to start the Blindleia., the “Blind Alley”, a stretch of the coast approximately 30 miles long. Here the boat weaves among rocky islets, along channels that at some points were only 10m wide, taking tight twisting paths that, had we not been sent the route by our friend Kjetil, we would never have attempted. However having been assured that it was possible we enjoyed a couple of days motoring through.

The holiday homes here are numerous and more traditional in style. We were wondering if the “new” oil money funded the modern architecture we saw on the west coast, while this coastline has older family homes, handed down through generations. Either way, the wealth of Norway is obvious just from the sheer number perched on every rocky outcrop.

Two days of that was enough! So stressful, identifying the route between the skerries, wondering how accurate the charts really were. We stopped in a lovely town, Grimstad, to stock up on fresh supplies and to stretch our legs.

Helen discovered a wonderful store selling wool and other sundries, she was in Nirvana and got supplies for a few more projects.

The following day we sailed 3 miles offshore, just to have a little space between us and the rocks. Our next anchorage was at Tromlingene, an inlet sheltered from the ocean by an island that was created from a glacial terminal moraine. Similar islands stretch along up the coast from here.

The weather is extremely changeable. From no wind for sailing, to high winds where we do not really want to sail. It is difficult, but in hops and jumps, we move along the coast. At one anchorage a combination of the Blue Moon high tide and wind driven water made the dock and picnic area untenable.

Finally we arrive in Tønsberg, a town where we could leave the boat safely secured and catch a train to visit Oslo for a day. It turns out Tønsberg is interesting in its own right, claiming to be Norways first town, founded by King Harald Harfågre (Fair Hair) in the 9th century.

This area was the center of boatbuilding in Viking times, with more archeological finds of that era here than any other region in Norway. The two ships in the Viking Museum in Oslo (which unfortunately is closed for a multi-year renovation) were found in this area. We discovered that replicas were being built along the waterfront here, with traditional techniques and hand tools. We had fun exploring a real Viking ship.

The next day we took the train to Oslo for a day of culture. We enjoyed the National Gallery with an exhibit of Rothko works and dresses worn by the recent Queens of Norway.

Then it was off to the Fram museum and Kon-Tiki museum. The Fram museum houses the boat that Nansen and Amundsen sailed in Arctic and Antarctic adventures. The reinforced bow was impressive: 3 layers of oak to resist the pack ice as they overwintered in the Arctic. Also a rebuilt Gjøa, the boat that Amundsen sailed through the Northwest passage for the first time in 1906.

Next door to the Fram museum was the Kon-Tiki museum with both the original balsa wood raft that crossed the Pacific from Peru, but also Thor Heyerdahl’s later Ra 2 reed boat that traveled across the Atlantic from Africa to Barbados in the Caribbean.

After all that it was time to head outside and explore Oslo. We enjoyed the modern buildings and lack of any skyscrapers, also the abundance of public art which made walking around fun. The floating saunas were not in high demand on this overcast afternoon.

The Vigeland Park, with its over-the-top homage to the Norwegian sculpture Gustav Vigeland, was fascinating in a weird and unsettling way. The bland, expressionless, and contorted figures and the sheer number of them were fascinating. Apparently he struck a deal with Oslo City wherein they would get the rights to all his works in exchange for all his living expenses. He was certainly very prolific, and they kept everything he made.

And just like that, we felt it was time to move on. August was coming to an end and we still had plenty of places to explore. We untied the lines and set our bow south, on to Sweden and another chapter.

Brian Russell 7/27/24 Brian Russell 7/27/24

Scotland Redux

There is something about the light in the summer in the higher latitudes that we love. Those long long evenings, and that glow. It makes all those hard days at sea a dim memory. But I digress.

We spend a week in São Miguel, Azores, recovering from the aborted passage and what we later realized was a spot of covid-19. The weekly vegetable market with the plentiful local fruits and vegetables was a delight to visit. We rented a car and explored the island from tip to toe. One evening a piano emerged from the stern of a cruisers boat and there was a concert for those in the marina. Our heart however was not in it, we were anxious to keep moving and get north.

A fine specimen in the Jardim Botãnico, São Miguel.

This time, with the help of a weather router, we planned our departure date and set off again, bound for Scotland after a week onshore. The passage took 10 days. It started off well with sighting of some pilot whales, the sun was warm and the breeze light. We sailed for the first two days with the code zero, our favorite sail. On the third morning the sky was blazing orange. If you believe the old saying, “Red sky at night, shepherds delight. Red sky in morning, sailors warning”, this was not a good omen.

Anticipating a change in the weather we took down the code zero sail and packed it away. The winds built and soon we were sailing with 2 reefs in the mainsail in 30kt wind. The waves increased and there was a lot of green water over the deck. We passed a smaller Dutch boat and chatted on the radio. The captain was rather concerned about the waves as he had a 2 year old onboard and was unsure what the forecast was. We sent him the information we had, but did not hear from him again. The update from our weather router confirmed our concerns that the lows moving off the NE coast of US and Canada were going to make our passage to Scotland via the west coast of Ireland problematic. We therefore decided to break our journey and stop in Kinsale on the south coast of Ireland for a couple of days, then pick up more favorable winds and make our way to Scotland via the Irish Sea. After nine nights at sea we sailed through thick fog into the harbor at Kinsale.

After a couple of days in Kinsale we set off again, Scotland bound. It was still uncertain where we would land. One choice was Oban, a favorite town or ours and close to the start of the Caledonian canal, our shortcut to the summer cruising grounds of Norway and Sweden. However it was quite a journey in to Glasgow, where we planned to reunite with family for a few days. The alternative was Ardrossan, where we had left Helacious 3 years ago. A good safe harbor with grocery store within easy walking distance and a train station linking us to Glasgow close by. As we sailed up the Irish sea yet another gale was developing and the decision was made for us. We booked our spot in Ardrossan and they held open the storm gates to the marina until we were safely inside.

In Glasgow we were well cared for and enjoyed the family time together. We were present for the excitement of election night, Wimbledon and the semi-finals of the European football cup.

The sun shone and we enjoyed a couple of walks along the Clyde and Forth canal and the Roman Antonine Wall.

Time was ticking. We restocked the ships supplies with Scottish delights and within a week we were off again. The wind was from the north for the next week, so heading around the notorious Mull of Kintyre with its strong currents would have been quite unpleasant. Instead we chose to traverse the Mull on the Crinan canal, a 9 mile long canal built in 1801. The license we purchased was for 4 nights. We decided to take it slow and enjoy the scenery. There are 15 locks and 7 swing bridges, fortunately there were some lock keepers to help with the heavy gates.

There were a couple of lovely walks just off the canal that we enjoyed. One to see the prehistoric Cup and Ring rock carvings, the other through Dunardry woods for a fine view west toward Jura.

We exited the canal and anchored just off the entrance, ready to catch the morning north going tide up through Dorus Mor and past the Corryvreckan whirlpools toward Oban. Both these named channels are notorious for the potentially hazardous conditions, should there be strong wind over tide, due to the treacherous currents that flow through them. The next day as we approached Oban we heard a distress call on the radio. A yacht had fouled their propellor with fishing gear and was drifting into the Gulf of Corryvreckan. Shortly after a Royal lifeboat roared past us on its way to assist. We passed Gylen castle on the southern tip of the Isle of Kerrera and tied up in the marina for a couple of nights.

In Oban we visited the Clipper boats that were in the town marina. What sailing machines. However with no autopilot, no windlass and shared bunks, it was not the boat for me. We explore the ruins of the ancient castle of Dunollie, seat of the MacDougall clan with fine views over to Kerrera. The evening light goes on well past 10pm and we enjoy walking among rabbits and the local sheep.

Rabbits enjoying the soft grass in the long evening shadows. Below a Ryeland sheep with multiple horns, and Jacob sheep with impossibly thick coats.

Birds gathering to roost in the evening light.

After leaving Oban we take a few days to slowly make our way up to Fort William and the start of the Caledonian canal. We were going to take this shortcut through the heart of the Scottish Highlands to get to Inverness and our launching point to continue the summer in Norway and Sweden. The few days we were traveling up Loch Linnhe to Fort William were dramatic with the rain clouds swirling around us.

We enter the canal through the sea lock as soon as it opens in the morning and we pass through to the bottom of Neptunes Staircase, the series of 8 locks that raise the boat up 64ft (20m). Just before the first lock there is a road and railway bridge that has to be passed; the railway bridge serves the West Highland train line, more commonly known as the Hogwarts Express as it passes over the iconic Glenfinnian Viaduct. While we waited in the canal the steam train passed us by.

The only reason I am mentioning this is that later that day the railbridge broke and for the next four days no more boats could pass, upstream nor downstream until they fixed it. We were so lucky.

For anyone who has taken a boat through a canal system, they can tell you the going up is much harder than the going down. With only the two of us onboard, Neptunes staircase was quite daunting. However we got lucky. In the first lock we got chatting to the smaller boat tied up alongside with 4 strapping Danish lads onboard. We ended up borrowing Simon to help us through the multiple lock gates. That evening we all tied up at the top of the staircase in Banavie and celebrated together, sampling the various whiskies we had purchased along the way. It was a fun evening.

The following day we travelled a mere 7 miles to the southern end of Loch Lochy. Here we tied up and went for a lovely walk along the shore. The mossy woodland and misty vistas were lovely.

Monday we hustled down Loch Lochy to meet up with Ed and Eve, our crew for a few days through the remainder of the canal. The sun came out to welcome them onboard.

Soon we had the new recruits in training and haulng on the lines. It was a fun few days as we passed through the bustling town of Fort Augustus and Loch Ness.

Loch Ness is huge! At 23 miles long and with a depth of over 700ft for much of that length, it is a massive body of water. The water is FREEZING. Brian confirmed, that despite what I said, the top 6” were not even a little bit warm.

We stopped half way down the loch for a calm night at anchor on a gravel bar we had discovered 3 years previously. Not marked on the charts (it is now on Noforeignland), it was the perfect spot to enjoy the views up and down the loch.

On the final day we swing by Urquhart castle then continue on to Inverness where we say our goodbyes. It is now time to get Helacious ship shape for our next passage across the North Sea. We spend a few days in the marina, have a visit from a mechanic (leak in the coolant system, main engine) and resupply the lockers and liquor cabinet in preparation for Norway and Sweden.

Brian Russell 6/15/24 Brian Russell 6/15/24

A Lesson Learned

Brian updates and touches up our wall painting in Horta.

We arrive in Horta on a Friday afternoon and the anchor sets easily. We are lucky, a number of boats drag over the next few days, the bottom is either rocky or soft mud. After checking in we catch up on some much needed sleep. The next day we went ashore and had lunch at the famous Peter Sport Cafe. It is fun whiling away the time looking for flags from sailors that have been there before.

The weather was lovely so we went for a hike up the hill for views over Horta. The spring flowers were in full bloom and the view of Pico over the water to the south was amazing. It changes so quickly, sometimes the peak is clear, 10 minutes later it is shrouded in clouds. Horta is wrapped around a couple of bays and retains its old world charm with no high rises or office buildings. We did not visit the old whaling station, which is now a whaling museum, as we had seen that on our last visit, but we were reminded of the industry of the process when seeing the slope where they dragged up the carcass and the chimney for the ovens where the blubber was rendered.

Our friends on Frogs Leap arrived a little after us. One of their crew had to leave immediately without exploring Horta at all. What a shame, to have sailed so far and not had a chance to explore these beautiful islands. Theirs had been a plague ship, the sailor’s second worst nightmare: Illness at sea. A crew member was quite sick with Dengue Fever which he had picked up in Antigua. Edwin, the captain was in contact with the US coastguard medical team and made a course for Bermuda. After drifting for a couple of days within evacuation distance of Bermuda, they got the all clear and finally turned their bow toward the Azores.

After about 3 days at anchor we scored a coveted spot, tied up to another boat along the wall in the marina. We were lucky, the ARC boats started arriving just 5 days later and took any and all the free spots. Helacious being secured safely, we could enjoy the fine weather and so we rented a car and set off.

The first day with John, crew from Frogs Leap, we drove along the north and east coast, new territory for us. The lighthouse protecting the southeastern tip of Faial was unusual in that it was a square tower encased in tile, so very Portuguese. Unfortunately in the earthquake of 1998 it was damaged beyond repair, but still stands. An imposing monument in the fields.

We drove along the coast and checked out a couple of the natural swimming pools. Some were better maintained than others. It was still a little cool for us to venture in the water, we just enjoyed looking.

After a nice lunch we drove up to the caldera of the ancient volcano that dominates the center of Faial. The clouds had cleared somewhat, and we had a great hike all around the rim. The winds at times were wicked.

The next day we claimed our Christmas adventure gift from Jake: a morning of horseback riding. This was something I had long wanted to do, but being rather timid of horses, had not followed up on. Here was an opportunity in a beautiful and special location. We arrived in the morning at the ecolodge The Patio, and were paired up with our steeds. We had a lovely morning, walking sedately through the fields and small town along the cliffs overlooking the blue Atlantic.

Feeling a little apprehensive at the start.

The weather then turned sour and for a week we had intermittent rain and cloudy skies. We continued with chores, fixed the radar using a hot knife to fuse the plastic drive belt back together. We did not do much more exploring, other than walks around and above town, enjoying the varied pavement designs and views. We had explored thoroughly on our first visit 3 years previously and somehow did not feel the need to go over trodden ground. Even trips to Pico and São Jorge, both holding fond and special memories, seemed unnecessary. We touched up the wall painting along the sea wall at the marina, updating it with a record of our latest passage. We felt quite salty, this being our second visit, even among all these other transatlantic sailors. We watched the weather and finally, after just over two weeks in Horta we untied the lines, ready to head back to sea.

Wall paintings in Horta from boats that have passed through. I think our Helacious contribution holds up well.

The passage north was meant to ultimately take us to Oban, in Scotland. We had a family gathering to try and get to and friends to meet up with. There’s a saying that the most dangerous thing on a boat is a calendar. Weather forecasting is generally fairly reliable about 3-4 days out, beyond that the models rarely agree. As this passage was expected to take around 11 days, we felt we could set off and then bail out to Ireland if the last half of the trip looked uncomfortable.

After our two recent big passages, where we purchased support in the form of a weather router, we felt like we were equally up to the task of reading the data. En route we had never found the additional information they gave us of much use. We had come to the same conclusions about routing and sailing tactics by ourselves. We therefore decided not to ask for outside help, but carefully followed the patterns and spotted an opportunity. Leave Saturday morning to allow the fast moving cold front to pass, we would swing up behind and ride on the coat tails, so to speak, north toward Scotland. Long term weather forecasts are not accurate, so we were only really confident of about 4 days, but things looked good. It was June after all, and it seemed the Azores High had finally settled in. Weather was likely to be calmer for the foreseeable future.

The day of our departure Brian ran the weather once again, with the latest models and data released that morning. A new cold front was developing, just behind the one we had strategized about. However it did not look too large, we were a strong boat and our plan would still be sound, maybe just a day of higher winds. We set off.

We had great sailing for the first 36 hours, 150 miles a day, a little above average. The winds were higher than predicted- we had thought we would be motor sailing. By Sunday afternoon we were in light winds, enjoying the calm but we were beginning to check the weather models rather more than usual. The fronts we had previously identified had now expanded and were more extensive than when we left. Their path was different in each model, either staying north and moving toward Ireland after which there would be strong north wind preventing sailing up that coast, or moving southeast, into the Bay of Biscay. In either case the much larger size meant that we were not really going to be able to avoid it by simply slipping up the back route. Still we continued on, we had to expect some weather, it was the North Atlantic after all. We were experienced sailors, but this could be our first potential Gale. We would reef down to third reef early, use the staysail and practice how to heave-to. Monday morning brought more bad news. A new, very large low was now spinning off the southern tip of Greenland and would rapidly catch up with the two previous cold fronts marching across the Atlantic, reinforcing and intensifying the weather. The waves, initially predicted to be 8-10 feet, had now risen to a towering 18ft, and on the beam. In storms at sea, it is not the wind that sinks boats, it is the waves. This was not looking good.

We thought of our options. A run for northwest Spain, maybe seek shelter in the Rias? Hove-to for a couple of days to let it pass then continue on? Maybe head west and then north, really try to keep sailing but get around the back of it and just make the trip to Scotland a few days longer?

We realized we were out of our depth. The situation was changing more than we could keep up with, and the path was uncertain. We contacted our former weather router, Commander’s, detailing our concerns and what we thought our options were and asked for their advice. In the meantime, where we were, the winds were quite light and the seas almost flat. We were certainly in no rush to barrel into this mess, so we reefed down the mainsail and put out the staysail and set the boat in hove-to mode where we made gentle progress, just 1.5kt in a NNW direction, waiting to see what the response from our weather router would be. It was a stressful afternoon. The new models that came out in the early evening with a bigger picture showed yet another low forming off Nova Scotia and Newfoundland. This would not give us any break in the weather and no chance for the seas to die down, however long we bopped around waiting for it to happen. Finally at 6pm we got our answer.

The first sentence in the reply was, “Honestly, the best option would be to turn around and head back to Horta”.

So that is what we did. We did not take much convincing, we just needed someone else to suggest it! The detailed description that followed of the conditions that we would encounter if we chose to move forward were sobering. We wanted to live to sail another day. We usually consider ourselves fairly conservative sailors, but our inflated self confidence had gotten the better of us. We should not be sailing into what was now a North Atlantic with 3 separate identified gale warnings posted. However much we study the Grib files downloaded from the internet, we are not meteorologists and cannot easily assess “ the big picture”. The interactions between the various components of the weather systems are very complex and nuanced. Hiring a professional weather router is an invaluable tool for helping one start a passage in the best possible conditions. When the weather turns out to be benign, they are not needed any more, but how did that benign passage get identified? The answer is with professional help. We had sat in Antigua after all, for over a week and the Chesapeake for nearly 3 weeks, waiting for the ‘All Clear’ to leave. Why did we think we knew better? We clearly did not, and this was quite a lesson in humility for us.

We turned and sailed south, deciding to head for São Miguel, a new island to explore while we would make lemonade from the lemons we had just been served. Fortunately the seas were nice and calm, the wind moderate. Brian had been under the weather for most of the trip, it was now apparent this was not simply mal de mer, but a nasty cold. Three days later Helen started to suffer. It would have been really miserable to be having to cope with terrifying sailing conditions with all crew dealing with fuzzy heads and flu-like symptoms

The trip back to São Miguel took 2 -1/2 days. On the second day an alarm went off indicating battery overheating. We inspected the battery box and yes, one of the batteries was quite warm, indicating failure. If that had gone unchecked it could easily have caused a fire or complete battery bank failure. Again, we feel immensely grateful we had made the decision to turn around and not have to be dealing with this issue during gale force conditions. Brian made a temporary solution of removing the battery from the circuit, but a new battery would need to be sourced at some point. It was very disappointing as these batteries were less than a year old, purchased in Halifax, Nova Scotia last summer.

Our ETA at the current speed would have us arriving at 4am, so we reduced sail and slowed down to 4kt, arriving in the morning fog at 7am. The large marina at Ponta Delgada was quite full, but we managed to spot a free slip and tied up. Exhausted, sick, chastened and relieved to not be moving, we checked in with the authorities, then went to bed. São Miguel could wait for another day.

Brian Russell 5/30/24 Brian Russell 5/30/24

The list grows

The morning of our departure on the 2500nm passage from Antigua to the Azores, Brian decided it would be a good time to clean the depth/speed transducer. This involves basically pulling the plug of the boat, rapid ingress of water and quickly staunching the flow with a blank plug. It is always a stressful activity even though we have done it successfully many times. But the morning of our departure? It turns out it was the right call. Barnacles had started to encroach on the surface and impeded the signal. Now we could collect all the data from the transducer, and start our trip with a truly fully functional boat.

The first day we sailed north, past Barbuda in the lee of the island. The sailing was good as Barbuda is basically a sand bar, and has no mountainous peaks to deflect the wind. We saw our one and only whale of the trip, most likely a humpback whale. We set off in the company of SV Frogs Leap, however within 24 hours they were out of sight and not to be seen again until we got to the Azores.

As we headed offshore Helen picked up the crochet hook and started another project to pass the time. By the end of the first week a new crew member was welcomed onboard.

As night fell we set up the boat for overnight sailing. We turned on the navigation lights and radar so we could be seen and we could “see” other vessels around. All large commercial boats have AIS (automatic identification system) these days, which we monitor, but not all fishing or pleasure craft. Radar sees all and makes night sailing much safer. The lights came on…. But not the radar. An error message indicated it was off line. A little googling and Brian determined a $4 drive belt was most likely the culprit. We would have to make this passage without radar and get a replacement sent to Horta. Start a list.

Once clear of the islands and we were in deep water the fishing lines went out. We do not normally like to fish around the islands as the chance of encountering the neurotoxin ciguatera is significantly increased. A dose of that would quickly put a stop to our big adventure and it is just not worth the risk. Having said that one has to wonder at the safety of the fish we occasionally consume in restaurants onshore. I digress.

Brian has a rail mounted reel which we troll with and it passes the time, switching lures and watching the fish attractor-called a bird- bounce through the waves. On day 3 of our passage the reel raced out and two nice Mahi were successfully landed, dispatched, filleted and popped in the freezer. Good eats for passage and beyond.

Mahi are a beautiful golden color with bright blue spots when first out of the water, however this quickly fades upon their demise. So sad. Still we got over it, and enjoyed our dinner.

Despite all the work and predeparture preparations there are always issues to deal with on passage. The boats systems are being used far more intensely than when cruising between islands; running 24 hours with no breaks as opposed to short day sails with multiple days at anchor. The second issue came on day 4 when we switched on the engine as the wind faded. Brians ear is tuned in with all engine sounds and there was a strange knocking sound we could hear in the cockpit, through the binnacle. Even Helen admitted it sounded weird. A rapid run through all the potential spots where disaster could occur (shaft issues, propeller issues, engine issues) revealed nothing. In checking the transmission fluid we noted it was rather low (Brian had not put the whole bottle in when changing it a few weeks prior as he thought he had not removed all the old fluid, and did not want to overfill). We put the rest of the bottle in and got the level back up to acceptable range. Still the sound was there. Engine off. Engine on. Sound gone. We decided a) we might be feeling a little jumpy and b) the rpm we had been running at while motor sailing was a little lower than usual. The vibrations on a metal boat transmit and spread all over, so we think maybe it was just an anomaly of the shaft rotating at a different rate than normal. We monitored closely to make sure it did not start again as it was still not too late to make an emergency stop in Bermuda.

Our first three sunsets at sea.

The next issue occurred just a day later, day 5. As we scrolled through the screens of onboard data that we enter into the boats log, we noticed the newly set up bilge alarms indicated that the bilge pump for the main sump had recently run twice. Most unusual and unexpected as we generally have a very dry boat. Upon looking under the floorboard, we found to our horror a significant amount of water lapping up the walls of the sump. We determined it was fresh water, so we were not sinking. We then went and inspected our water tanks to see which of the two was leaking, and how/where. We have installed tank indicators to tell us how much water is in each tank, unfortunately the monitor on the 60 gallon tank works intermittently, possibly due to corrosion from storing chlorinated water, and chose now not to work. The 40 gallon tank was still full so we knew that one was OK. There were so many places where water could leak, the hoses that snake beneath the sole of the boat, the hot water heater, the pumps that move the water around and provide water pressure, the tanks themselves. It was daunting. Still, one step at a time to isolate the issue. We turned off the main water supply pump and waited to see if water was still seeping into the bilge. We turned it back on…… and nothing. It would not come on. Concern flitted across Brian’s face, was this a repeat of our previous transatlantic passage where we had failing water pumps, and the “spare” turned out to be a dud? Before diving into the deep storage to pull out a replacement pump, we switched the water supply over to the foot-pump we have installed at the galley sink, we could conduct the test using this. It is part of the water system redundancy and allows us to manually (well by foot) pump either fresh water from the 60 gallon tank or sea water into the galley sink. Brian was pumping away at the foot pump and no water was flowing into the sink. Now this was becoming a real concern. Was it the foot-pump that was broken as well, or was the 60 gallon tank that it draws from empty due to the as yet unidentified leak, and had the bilge pumps pumped it all overboard? Next thing to do was to take the top of the water tank off and actually look in to see if there was any water there, or was it empty? Fortunately we found the tank was nearly full, at least 50 gallons present, so that was not the issue. Still worried about how we were going to get water from the tanks if both the electric pump and foot pump were not working. We dove into the spares locker and pulled out the replacement pump just in case. Visions of collecting rainwater in buckets briefly became a possibility, until Brian determined the pump had blown a fuse, a simple replacement and the pump was working again.

The foot-pump is a different issue. We do not use it under normal circumstances so had not been aware there was a problem. It was installed, of course, over 8 years ago, as the boat was being built. The rubber seals and gaskets all decay with time and especially in heat. Time in Memphis during the build and the four years in the warm waters of Pickwick Lake, the Gulf of Mexico, Bahamas and more recently the Caribbean have likely done some damage. Replacement parts can be sourced, but it will have to wait until we are back in civilization. Add it to the list.

Now we still had to work out what was leaking and from where. The water system hoses all pass through a master manifold under the bedroom floor. One by one, we turned off the various sections; Hot water system, cold water system, galley, water heater, head, and looked for the pressure pump to start running indicating the pressure had dropped due to the leak. We finally identified the issue was likely the hot water tank. Isolating and turning off that circuit, and the problem resolved. We spent the rest of the passage, and the forseeable future, turning on hot water when needed, then turning it off at the manifold when not in use. A replacement hot water heater is a serious problem, and something we are not yet sure how we can resolve. Heading to Europe with the different electrical system makes getting a replacement there an issue. In addition Brian installed the heater early on in the build, and so much has been built up around it, getting it out and a replacement reinstalled will entail some unpleasant demolition. Another one for the list. Our list was growing.

The wind was light and the seas became glassy smooth. It was 3pm in the afternoon, the sun was shining and the swimming pool was open! We turned off the engine and drifted for 30 minutes while we enjoyed our last swim in warm waters. It is truly a surreal experience to swim with over 20,000ft of water beneath you. So clear. So blue.

One morning the sunrise was cloudless. As the glow developed just beyond the horizon I wondered if there was a green flash at sunrise, as the sun first emerges, in the same way you can sometimes see one as it dips below the horizon at sunset. Guessing where the sun would appear, I took a number of photographs as the sun rose, and YES, there is the same green flash.

Two headsails out, the genoa held with pole. Our preferred set up for down wind sailing.

The winds were generally lighter than when we made the same passage three years ago, however we managed to keep the sails full and moved gently along. There were a few times however when the engine simply had to be turned on and we motored for a day and a half at about day 13. During engine check after 24 hours with the engine on Brian noticed what had been an occasional drip from the engine raw water pump, was now a steady drip, and there was a significant amount of salt water sloshing around under the engine. We had addressed the slight leak, or so we thought, while in Antigua. Brian had changed the raw water pump with the spare. However, as with the gaskets for the galley foot pump, this pump and spare were both purchased at the same time, more than 10 years ago, and the seal was now not sealing. We drifted for an hour, grateful for the relatively calm seas, and Brian replaced the seal with a new O-ring, and when that made no difference, he took the seal off the spare and put it on the installed pump. That seemed to do the trick, but another item has been added to the ever growing list of parts and jobs to be completed when we are once back in the land of plenty.

On day 14, as the sky lightened in the morning we were surrounded by a pod of small Atlantic Dolphins. They stayed with the boat for 30 minutes as the sun rose above the horizon, playing in the bow wave and jumping and spinning alongside. It was an absolutely magical moment and one that we will remember for a lifetime.

Pick your favorite….. I obviously could not!

We sailed on, the wind picked up for the last part of the voyage and the waves increased too. We often found flying fish on the deck in the morning and one day some squid. We must have passed through a train of them as there were four or five on deck, each in an inky mess. A first for Helacious.

Our last night at sea and at watch change (2am) the mainsail suddenly slumped as the first reef line broke. We had not noticed the line chafing and were caught by surprise. Brian lowered the main to the second reef and we continued to Horta. It was a little frustrating as now the winds were perfect, but we could not use the full capacity of our sails. A final item to be added to the list.

We were now approaching land. We did not see Faial until just 10 miles away. Not even a peak of Mount Pico, the highest mountain in Portugal. But then the clouds lifted and the green fields and terracotta roofed houses were a feast for the eyes.

Approaching Horta on the island of Faial we were welcomed by a pod of dolphin.

The final list; 20 days at sea, 2528nm travelled and a list of jobs to keep us busy until the next passage.

Brian Russell 5/1/24 Brian Russell 5/1/24

Waiting for Weather

The hike up to Shirley Heights, Antigua.

We head north to Antigua where we spend a month visiting with, and sadly saying farewell to friends. It is that time of year in the cruising calendar when folks part ways. Those leaving their boats in Trinidad or Grenada turn their bow south and work their way down the chain of islands ready for haul out in May and June. The rest of us are facing a big passage north. Maybe back to the US, or as in our case, starting another circuit of the North Atlantic.

What a good looking looking bunch we are! On left Brian, Nancy, Mike and Polly from Joli and Lost Loon. On the right Lori, Dan (from BeBe) and Dana from Pathfinder. The cruising lifestyle with sailing, swimming, hiking, lots of walking for groceries and other errands, truly is a very healthy way to exist. Rum punches and sundowners less so, but one needs a balance in life! We obviously love it. With these fine folk we explored some of Antigua’s best snorkeling sites and saw some amazing wildlife.

We did a number of projects to make sure Helacious is ready for the passage. Antigua is a nice spot for this, it has the support businesses of sail makers, rigging supplies and machine shops- and decent grocery stores for stocking up the ship supplies. There are a nice variety of pleasant anchorages that are all within easy reach, so the view out of the window never gets boring. The Rigging was checked back in Martinique, but an issue of the gooseneck having too much play was concerning to Brian. In Falmouth Bay we finally addressed this. The pin that passes through the stainless and cast aluminum parts of the gooseneck was a fraction too small, as a result there was some movement, which with time would wallow out the hole and exacerbate the problem. Fortunately we saw little evidence of damage to the two sections despite the wiggle. However to address it we had the stainless section bored out and a sacrificial bushing was inserted. A new pin, 50/1000” larger was made and now it all fits together quite snugly, very little movement.

Another home improvement project was refinishing the salon table. After over 8 years of use, the finish was breaking down. Brian had to scrape off the old varnish and reapply 5 new layers. It was an awkward week as we tried not to bump into the table as the varnish dried and cured, but the effort was so worth it. It looks BEAUTIFUL.

It is always a concern when heading offshore that something may get caught in the prop. A line from a crab or lobster pot or a discarded fishing net. You would not believe what is out there, hundreds of miles from land. In fact on our first Atlantic crossing while swimming in 25,000 ft while becalmed, we discovered some fishing line on the prop. Fortunately it had not wrapped around or fouled it, we could easily remove it. But what if….. We need to be totally self sufficient and able to deal with any eventuality. To that end we purchased this small tank of air. It is half the normal size, with enough air for about 20-30minutes of shallow diving. With a new backpack and borrowing the regulator from Helens diving BCD we now have a useful set up for Brian to be able to cut away line or inspect the hull from below while offshore. We will not use this for cleaning the bottom of the boat, we have a hookah set up for that. This is for emergencies only.

In the galley preparations are also underway. We prepared and cooked a number of meals that are easy to heat up and enjoy underway. We have meatballs, chilli, minestrone, breakfast burritos and chicken noodle soup waiting in the freezer.

It is now in the transition between dry and rainy season here in Antigua, and it is the latest we have been here. The foliage is different from previous years. The hillsides are brown, the plants are in a different part of their cycle. It is interesting.

As time passed and we waited for the weather in the North Atlantic to settle down, more jobs were tackled. We performed “surgery” on our Starlink antenna dish. The style we have has a small motor that keeps the dish orientated toward the closest satellite. It uses quite a bit of electricity, even when we are at anchor, with the constant movement of the boat. It is not just the electrical usage that made us want to perform this surgery. On our passage down to the Caribbean from the US we were in fairly rough seas. The motor could not keep up with the movement and eventually gave up the ghost, going into “storage mode”, and it would not restart until we had reached our destination and stopped moving around so much. This is not good when we have come to enjoy/rely on our fast internet speeds for downloading weather reports and planning our routing. The latest version of the dish that is sold does not have this motor, it presents a flat surface to the heavens and works fine. We therefore got the instructions from YouTube and pulled out the drill. First the dish had to be turned off at the point when the leg was in vertical position. The hole was drilled 5” in from the bottom and needlepoint pliers could reach in and pull the plug to disable the motor. Our embarrassingly large collection of wine corks came in handy to plug the hole, held in place with a dab of silicone caulk. And it works. Fingers crossed it continues to work the whole way across the Atlantic.

We sailed back to Falmouth on the southern coast of Antigua. On the way we passed a sperm whale. Apologies for the bad video, but a challenge to film, moving boat, large underwater beast. You get the drift. Still always a thrill to see them close. We saw it breach and flap its flippers… honest!

It was the Antigua Classic Race week. We were not around to watch the races themselves, but we saw the boats arriving and out practicing their skills. Stretching the sails. Just beautiful. I love the classic reef lines on the sails.

We cleaned the winches, removing old grease and replacing it with new grease. It is not the most pleasant job, but the satisfaction of getting it all back together and working is quite something.

We filled the fuel tanks to the brim. We hope not to motor too much on our passage, but you have to be prepared. The cost was in EC$ (Eastern Caribbean dollar, exchange rate 1US$=2.7EC$). Still a lot. We defrosted the fridge before restocking with passage goodies. While cleaning we started down that rabbit hole and replaced the seals on the refrigerator. Not a waste of time at all.

We changed the oil in the engine, replaced zincs on engine and generator and FINALLY, the blue box of electronics, that gave us grief all the way back in Nova Scotia is working! Brian simply would not give up. The wiring was fine it turns out, the issue was some hidden code in the settings that needed to be toggled to “OFF”. We can now charge our batteries from the generator at nearly double the speed.

We were all ready to go. The weather, however, had a different agenda. The North Atlantic had not settled in to its usual pattern. Just ask the sailors on the Golden Globe Race. The Azores High is all over the place, and stiff northerly winds, or no wind, were keeping us pinned down. Instead of moping around, we decided to distract ourselves with a side trip to our favorite beach, Eleven Mile Beach in Barbuda, about 35nm north of Antigua. We squeezed in a celebratory lunch at Barbuda Belle, a beautiful, though isolated resort on the north end of the island.

We had a delightful sail back to Antigua to finally stock up on fresh eggs and vegetables. It looked like we would be leaving in just a few of days. Once again Brian dives into the engine room. He had discovered a slow leak on the water pump was now a steady drip. He also tried to diagnose the rather worrisome intermittent starting of the engine. It appears to be an electrical contact, possibly loose or corroding. But where? We re still not sure, but thanks to Dana on Pathfinder, we have a work around we can use to start engine in an emergency.

The bottom was cleaned once again, prop blades tweaked and prop greased. There really is nothing else to do. We are ready to sail, and we will…… soon.

Brian Russell 4/1/24 Brian Russell 4/1/24

Dominica waterfalls

We returned to Dominica, one of our favorite islands due to the wonderful unspoilt natural interior. You can see from the photo above why it was used extensively in Pirates of the Caribbean. The island is filled with rivers, streams and waterfalls and the most dramatic forested landscape. Dan and Lori from BeBe were also in the Portsmouth anchorage and we planned a couple of outings with them along with Courtney and Dave from Umoya. We had chatted to Umoya during our November passage from Chesapeake Bay down to the islands. We had talked on the radio, and exchanged a few texts until our Starlink dish decided to quit. They had then got quite concerned about our abrupt silence, but fortunately our other satellite communications with mutual friends BeBe explained the situation. Here in Dominica, we finally all met up.

Our first outing was an afternoon walk up to Fort Shirley overlooking Portsmouth and Prince Rupert Bay. The fort is on a peninsula to the north of the bay and a hike up through the forest leads past the ruins of the Governors mansion. It must have been quite a building in its heyday, the grand rooms and vaulted arches told of considerable elegance. Now, however it was a battle between the jungle vines and gravity as to which would bring it down first.

A couple of days later we arranged for Serge, a local driver and guide, to take us all up to the trail head for a visit to Chaudiere Pools. We got dropped off and hiked 40 minutes down the track to the river. Here we lounged, swam, jumped and enjoyed the fresh water for a couple of hours. The plunge of the waterfall created champagne bubbles, it was delightful.

A couple of days later our friends had left and we hired Serge again to take us on a tour toward the south of the island. Here we explored Freshwater Lake, high in the rainforest, with a lovely trail around it. Serge was very knowledgeable about the flora and also shared with us his recipe for the tea that he drinks daily. It involves fresh ginger, tumeric, citrus peel, cloves and some unfamiliar-to-us leaf. It certainly seemed to have worked, he was edging up to 70 years old and appeared fit as a fiddle.

After the hike we drove over to Trafalger Falls. On the way we passed by the massive construction site for the proposed Trafalger Falls and Boiling Lake gondola. Helicopters were carrying all the building supplies to the jungle interior, constructing towers for the eventual lift system. The scar through the hillside was upsetting to us, but for Serge it indicated progress and riches to come. We still treasure the memories of our epic hike to Boiling Lake 3 years ago. The idea of trams clunking and grinding overhead and across the Valley of Desolation does not feel like an improvement to us.

Moving on to Trafalger Falls. This is a popular tourist spot, the dramatic twin waterfalls are fed by two separate rivers and merge at this point. The added attraction are the hot springs that line the edge of the falls, the yellow sulforus deposit indicated where the very hot water feeds in to the rivers flow. You find a point where the temperature of the waters mixing is to your taste, and just sit and enjoy.

Time seemed to pass by quite quickly. Before we knew it we had been there almost 2 weeks. Our friends on Skylark arrived and we caught up on the news over sundowners. We enjoyed an evening at the local beach BBQ, a final trip to the wonderful vegetable market and then it was time to move on. We sailed north to Antigua, leaving Dominica under a rather gloomy sky. However the changing weather made for a great sunset that night.

Brian Russell 3/17/24 Brian Russell 3/17/24

Rhum and Ruins

Water wheel driven sugar cane press in the grounds of St Pierre zoo.

Heading north from Bequia we made an overnight stop in Rodney Bay, St Lucia, but did not check in, leaving the next morning to make the crossing over to Martinique. The sail was sporty at times as we sailed across the passages between the islands. We had to resort to the engine however while in the wind shadow of St Vincent and St Lucia, with their high central mountains. We passed sites of previous memorable hikes; the volcano on St Vincent and Petit Piton on St Lucia.

Arriving in St Anne, Martinique, we were again back in familiar territory. We knew where the grocery stores were - and the all important boulangeries. There were more boats than in previous years, maybe we were still seeing the effects of Covid-19 reduced travel in 2022. The rather sparse cheese shelf in the grocery store told of high demand, which they were obviously having trouble satisfying. Fortunately the wine shelf was still well stocked.

We reunited with old friends and made new friends. We had Nella and Björn from Think Twice over for sundowners. It was fun to start thinking about our planned summer in Sweden and get some tips on places to go. We also organized a dinghy float from Helacious with the crew of BeBe, Pathfinder, Think Twice, Kerpa and Tribute.

After a few days the fridge was once again full of food and we welcomed old pals Lee and Lys onboard. We revisited some of our favorite places in St Anne, including the lovely hike around the peninsula and Anse de Saline beach.

We sailed up to St Pierre and anchored off the town for a few days. We enjoyed visiting the ruins from The 1902 volcanic eruption of Mount Pele and exploring the restaurants in town for lunch.

A most pleasant and unexpected surprise was the zoo. The grounds were beautifully planted, the combination of plantation ruins, history and well displayed animal habitats made it a fun afternoon. I think my new favorite animal is an anteater.

Our final stop was Anse Mitan where we enjoyed some fine dining in the small tourist town and rented a car to visit the Clement Rhum Distillery. We had visited the previous year and really enjoyed the outdoor sculpture park in addition to the tasty product.

A week flew by and Lee and Lys left us. We returned to Le Marin and St Anne as we had an appointment with the Rigger. As we are planning another circuit of the north Atlantic over the next couple of years, it seemed prudent to have the rig checked by a professional. We have sailed 20,000nm and things can and do wear out or stretch. The riggers were in high demand and we were left waiting for a few days. To fill the time Brian started working on a few boat projects. One was to redo the ventillation for the composting head. Occasionally on passage when we get green water over the deck of the boat, some water is forced down the ventillation shaft for the toilet. The water passes through the fan and quickly renders it useless. We could either stock up on fans and consider them disposable, or fix the problem. The solution was to create a catchment vessel with drain, and have the toilet fan installed above so it is no longer in the path of any ingressing water.

Another quick job was to re-bed the hatch above the head. Again it is only on big passages when water is flowing across the deck do we have a leak in the hatch. Once Brian pulled the hatch out, it was clear why…. the sealant was only 95% around the hatch, more sealant and hopefully that is good to go. The riggers came to perform the inspection. It was impressive how thorough they were and simply got down to business as soon as they came onboard. No time for chit chat. All shrouds, lifelines, sheets, mast fittings and winches were closely inspected. Our rig was apparently a little loose, the mast was too vertical (a slight backward bend toward the top is preferred). Tightening the backstays should solve both issues. However our shrouds are very heavy duty and required an expert to tune. We had to wait several more days for the job to be finished. Another issue was the slight wobble in the gooseneck, the point where the boom attaches to the mast. This Brian can deal with at a later date with some new washers.

As soon as we were cleared to go, we sailed up to St Pierre and met up with the crew of BeBe and Pathfinder. The following day we all gathered at the bus station for the #3 bus to Fonds-St-Denis and the start of the Canal Beauregard trail. We had done this wonderful hike last year and wanted to share with our friends. This year it had rained considerably more and the canal was over flowing in numerous places. The soggy sandbags did not fill us with confidence. However we all survived, no-one slipped off.

Toward the end of the hike we came upon a Kapok tree filled with these beautiful yellow birds. Village Weavers, originally from Central Africa, had colonized the tree with their intricately woven nests.

We rewarded ourselves with a delicious meal at L’Alsace A Kay, an authentic restaurant serving food from the Alsace region of France. A bonus was this same restaurant had the customs computer, so we checked out of Martinique and set sail early the next day, Dominica bound.

Brian Russell 2/13/24 Brian Russell 2/13/24

Island hopping.

The Grenadines are a group of small islands in the Lesser Antilles scattered between the two larger islands of St Vincent to the north, and Grenada to the south. Grenada controls the southern third, while St Vincent is in charge of the northern two thirds, comprising 32 islands and cays. Some are private and off limits, while some are open to the public, under strict regulations. Some are a combination, Canouan for example has a private enclave to the north and south of the island, with a small settlement of local people smack dab in the middle.

By Alison DeGraff - sourced from Wikepedia

My faithful reader (yes you) will recognize some of the names already. We checked in to Grenada on the island of Carriacou just before Christmas and then sailed south, past Isle de Ronde to Grenada itself for the holiday season. Once the New Year celebrations were complete we began our journey back up through the islands. Our first stop was to return to Carriacou. Here we enjoyed a few days of intermittent squally weather, the rainbows making up for the rain-showers. We snorkeled the reefs to the south of Carriacou, White Island and Saline Island, then spent the night all by ourselves off Frigate Island. The next morning the enormous 88m/288ft long sailing vessel Maltese Falcon showed up and anchored nearby. We spent an entertaining morning looking through the binoculars to see how the other half lived: their trip to the same snorkel sites we had visited the previous day, the “toys” they had onboard and the lobster lunch on the back deck. It turns out the ships officers were in turn checking us out, discussing how Helacious is a boat that can cruise anywhere. When we heard that later from one of their crew while waiting at customs, it made Captain Brian very proud.

Maltese Falcon, it could be yours for $490,000 a week (plus expenses and tips).

It was then time to check out of Grenada, and move north. We arrived at the office at 9am (they are meant to open from 9-12 but we did not see an official until at least 9.30am). At the time of our arrival, there were already 4 groups of cruisers in line ahead of us. We had heard unpleasant stories from our friends of the delay tactics used to gain more money from cruisers if you checked out in the afternoon. They would stall and delay their work until about 3.30pm, then proceed to charge overtime for the folk that had been forced to wait as soon as 4pm rolled around. We therefore decided a morning attempt would be better. As it turned out, they still appeared to stall. We finally were checked out by 11.30. A number of people had left in frustration.

The crossing from the island of Carriacou to Canouan took us from Grenada to St Vincent. We picked Canouan to check in even though it was not necessarily the closest island with a customs office, as Union Island and the town of Clifton, had rather a bad rap. Stories abounded of sailors being harassed by “boat boys” and disgruntled locals untying your boat or stealing outboards in retribution. Of course these stories are always to be taken with a big pinch of salt, but when sailing about 10 miles further results in a different island and a different vibe…. why not go for it. We arrived in Canouan soaked! The crossing was much rougher than we had anticipated, 25-30kt of wind, hard on the nose. We had gotten complacent and lazy, not fully securing the boat for the short hop to another island. The waves in the passage between islands were quite large and we had a lot of water over the deck. Some of this water also found its way below decks via the ventialltion dorades which we had failed to close before we left. For the first time ever our bed got soaked! First order of the day was to wash sheets and dry out the mattress before we could go to bed.

The next morning we met up with the crew of Skylark, friends from the Salty Dawg rally of 2020. With Tim and Diane we climbed the hill over to the eastern side of the island to check out the long reef that protected the beach on the windward side. We explored another abandoned building, so often seen on these islands. Someones dream only to fall to ruin in the harsh environment. The long beach protected by the reef was all ours.

After a dip in the water we headed back to our boats, but got caught in a heavy rainshower. As we walked up the road these Red-footed tortoises emerged from the undergrowth and headed straight for the drainage channel for a drink of fresh water.

Canouan has two private and gated enclaves, one to the north, the other to the south. The small settlement of Charlestown is in the middle. The gated communities have desalination plants to provide fresh water. The community does not. It predominantly relies on cisterns and captured rainwater. The ground is sterile and rocky. Nothing but weeds will grow. All the food is brought in by boat, so the week we were here our supplies dwindled significantly. We never found the grocery store, but the small stall selling vegetables by the ferry dock had the best tomatoes so far in the Caribbean and we bought some lobster from a local fisherman. The disparity between the haves and have-nots has never been so obvious as it was here.

We had more friends we wanted to rendezvous with, so after enjoying Canouan we headed south to the Tobago Cays. We had heard many wonderful things about these small islands: the crystal clear water, great snorkeling and sandy beaches with palm trees. It sounded idyllic. The reality fell a little short. If there is one thing we have learned over the past few years it is that one man’s paradise is another mans purgatory. We like to get away from the crowds, avoid the lobster barbeque on the beach with 50 strangers, buzzing by kite surfers and instead discover the reefs and turtles by ourselves. Here there was an area roped off to swim with turtles (we saw one lonely fellow). The anchorage was so rough it was almost impossible to get back on the boat from the dinghy without knocking ourselves out, and the mooring on the sheltered side was along a reef that the locals were hunting for lobster. This was all in the protected “marine park”, costing $45 a night. After an afternoon visiting, we left and went to nearby Mayreau, anchored at a lovely spot with 2 other boats for $0, and waited for our friends.

The view of Union Island from our Mayreau anchorage.

While waiting for the group to arrive, Brian took a dive into the engine room to try and understand our recent, and rather worrying few episodes of the engine not starting on cue. Although we are a sailboat, and totally prefer to use wind power to diesel, there are times when the engine is essential- In close quarters, anchoring and leaving an anchorage. We rely on the engine to keep us safe. Recently there had been a few times when the engine would not start. It was resolved in these occasions by Brian rapping smartly on the starter motor with a hammer. But this was clearly not a long term solution.

Nothing has been fully resolved at the time of writing, however we do have a spare starter motor in ship supplies which we plan to install when we are in a marina with support services available. For now the hammer will have to suffice.

Mayreau is the smallest inhabited island of the Grenadines. The lovely resort is run by a Swedish couple who welcome cruisers to enjoy their facilities. We spent a few days there, putting up with the rather rolly anchorage to take advantage of the fine restaurant and pool with a view.

A morning of exploring was all that was needed to check out the town and view from the peak over toward the Tobago Cays. We met some interesting folk on our walk, one finely dressed gentleman was on his way home having played his ukelele in church that morning. Another, Righteous Bob, insisted on giving us a tour of his restaurant/bar. All design and decor done by himself, over 20 years in the making.

The days seem to slip by. We head north, stopping for a few more days in Canouan. We give a local spear-fisherman a ride back to the dock. He had not expected the current to be so strong and was tired after fishing out on the reef. The sunsets put on their show and we do a few chores, one of which was to give our flag a makeover. It has a few months of life in it.

We had visited Bequia the previous year. It is a lovely island; a relaxed vibe but developed enough to provide entertainment options. Either Happy hour gatherings, good hikes or just choices for provisioning. We anchored at the back of the pack in Admiralty Bay, just off the Lower Bay beach and spent our time just chilling. The weather was weird, very strong winds, rain-showers all week and a swell that would not give up. We rocked and rolled along with BeBe and Pathfinder for over a week. While we had the sewing machine out we helped Dana on Pathfinder fix the luff tape on his genoa. The hardest part was hauling the heavy machine over to his boat without it getting wet.

We enjoyed hikes, visiting the windward side of the island, Friendship and Hope Bays, as well as just around town. The daily activities of laundry or replacing a tire are so different to how it is done at home. The variation of architectural styles, some quite excessively ornate, is fascinating., and of course the local flora and fauna.

We scored some used sailcloth at the local sailmakers. This will be transformed into new shopping bags, once I get the sewing machine out again.

We sailed north from Bequai to St Vincent to pick up our guests for the following week. Justine and Philip escaping the winter in Glasgow, were looking forward to a little beach time in the Caribbean. Of course the first thing we do is go hiking. Soufriere volcano in the north of St Vincent was last active just 3 years ago, December 2020 to April 2021. Our guide, Paul, picked us and Milly, an Australian medical student, up and drove around the east coast of the island to the trailhead. From here the climb to the rim of the volcano was about 2,000 ft, reaching a final altitude of 3,200ft.

The hike began in verdant forest; tree ferns, wild begonia and orchids helped us enjoy the steep and steamy climb up. Once above the tree line the trail, which had been mostly well maintained steps, became treacherous with loose pumice stones. The final push to the crater rim was steep and the mist swirled over our heads.

We reached the rim of the caldera and the clouds lifted. We had a great view into the crater, the sulfurous steam rising from vents in the center.

The following day we explored Kingstown, the capital of St Vincent. The central market, the busy dock area and the quieter back streets with a beautiful Anglican church. The botanical garden, the oldest in the western hemisphere, established in 1765 was pleasant and cool to walk around.

The following day we left St Vincent and had a great sail 18 miles south to Mustique. This private island, famed as a get-away for the rich and famous, is just south east of St Vincent. There are strict rules for visitors to the island. There is no anchoring, a permit for 3 day visit and a mooring ball can be purchased. We were able to go ashore, however only in a well defined area. The few shops near the dock, the famous Basil’s Bar and a beach stretching south down to the lagoon. In all, probably only about 1 square mile. That was fine, we enjoyed sundowners at Basil’s and listening to the music coming from the bar in the evening as part of the Mustique Blues festival.

During the walk along the beach we spotted some mansions scattered around the hillsides. We encountered tortoises, emerging in the late afternoon for a feast on flowers. The sea turtles in the anchorage were quite unafraid and we snorkeled along watching them graze on the sea grass. It was a lovely couple of days.

And then we left, sailing downwind back to Bequia. Brian fished hard with a new rig that he and Phil had constructed. No luck, though. We anchored again off Lower Bay and enjoyed some beach time as well as a great hike to the northernmost tip of the island. We bought some scrimshaw made by Cliff and had a lovely meal out at the elegant FireFly Estate.

Justine and Philip’s last night onboard Helacious was maybe more exciting than they had bargained for. Just after we had all turned in for the night we were woken with a bump. An unattended boat upwind of us had broken from its mooring and was floating out to sea. Luckily (for him) it snagged its dinghy davit line on our bow pulpit and was held fast. Our anchor, with the sudden weight of two boats, began to drag. Fortunately within about 50 feet it reset and both boats held fast. We put out a “securite” alert over channel 16 and shortly after the coastguard came on the radio and quickly mobilized to come to our aid. They towed the boat to a new mooring. The only damage from the whole incident was a scuffed rub-rail on Helacious- and our grill was torn from its bracket as the boat was towed away. It took a dive in the water. We are hoping a replacement is forthcoming as a gesture of gratitude for saving someones floating home.

And just like that 6 weeks had passed. We tidied the boat up and pointed our bow north. Time to get some French cheese.

Brian Russell 1/1/24 Brian Russell 1/1/24

Heading to Grenada

After being on passage for 13 days it was time to stretch our legs. The small town of Deshaies and the neighboring beach, Grande Anse, are the location for the BBC series “Death in Paradise”. We decided to walk around and check it out.

After a couple of days recovering from the passage and fully caught up on sleep we pulled up the anchor and headed south down the west coast of Guadeloupe to the Jacques Cousteau marine reserve at Pigeon Island. We had visited the previous season and we were excited to get back in the water and see some fishes. The weather was not ideal, a little rough and rather overcast but we had a short swim. We also knew there was a self serve laundromat and some well stocked grocery stores in this small town, so we spent a couple of days doing household chores before heading down to our final stop in Guadeloupe, Basse Terre. Here we planned to stock up on coconut rum and check out of Guadeloupe. It pays to be flexible in this lifestyle as we discovered the customs and immigration computer in Basse Terre was down, and “maybe” would be fixed next week. As it was a Saturday we needed to check out that day as everything would be closed on Sunday, and our weather window indicated we would want to do our next passage leaving early Monday morning. We therefore hurriedly jumped back onboard, pulled up the anchor and headed across the rather boisterous pass to Isles des Saintes about 6 miles south where there was also a customs computer. The coconut rum would have to wait for our return journey.

We arrived just in time to complete the formalities, checking out ahead of time so we could depart Monday morning, predawn. We then had a little time to enjoy Les Saintes. The flowers, the beach and the rainshowers.

We were up Monday morning at 4am, slipped the mooring lines and using radar managed to get out of the anchorage without hitting anything. We were well on our way across the passage toward Dominica as the sun rose. We were heading south, down to the southern most nation of the Windward chain, Grenada. It took two days to reach our destination, the Grenadian island of Carriacou. As we entered Tyrrel Bay, our friends, Lori and Dan on BeBe, hailed us and that evening delighted us with our first rum punch of the season.

We checked in at the cute customs and immigration office, conveniently right next to a lovely cafe/restaurant. We shared a rental car with Dan and Lori and explored the small island of Carriacou. Only about 4 miles from tip to toe, but it still managed to pack some impressive hills in that space. We went on the High North nature trail, up the highest peak, 956 feet.. The view out across Hillsborough Bay was splendid and we could see our next anchorage off the small sand bar called Sandy Island. The trail was steep but shaded from the hot sun. We spotted some local fauna, a tortoise and some enormous frogs, settled into a muddy water hole.

After lunch we went around to the windward side of the island, where the guide book suggested there was a strong boatbuilding tradition. We were a little disappointed, only finding a fishing boat in the process of being rebuilt.

The cemetry along the shore was a testament to rising sea levels and maybe poor town planning.

The following day we left the busy and rather rolly anchorage of Tyrrel Bay and popped around the corner to the Sandy Island anchorage. Here we spent a pleasant few days, snorkeled the small reef, said hello and goodbye to cruising friends and started some boat projects, including re-covering the salon cushions.

It was now a week before Christmas and we wanted to be in place and well supplied in time for Jake’s visit. We left Carriacou and planned to sail south to the small Isle de Ronde, half way between Carriacou and Grenada. Just off the coast of this island there is a submerged volcano named Kick ‘em Jenny. There is a 1 mile exclusion zone where one is definitely not supposed to sail, and a 5 mile suggested exclusion zone that is enacted when seismic activity is detected. The weather turned out to be quite different from the forecast and we approached in high seas, heavy cloud and rain-showers, we opted to delay a visit to this island and we sailed on past, down the east coast of Grenada, to a sheltered anchorage called St Davids Harbor. The rain disappeared, we dried out and celebrated getting to our southernmost destination with a few beers and delicious hamburger.

We moved along down the coast to an anchorage just off the private island of Calivigny Island and the boutique Le Phare Bleu marina and resort. Here we settled in, ready for Jake and to celebrate Christmas at the resort restaurant.

In the marina there was a lighthouse boat, originally built and deployed in Sweden, it was restored and shipped to Grenada a few years ago. Pre-covid it had been a restaurant, but now it seemed to just be slowly rotting, the bilge pumps constantly pumping to keep it afoat. We made a quick visit to the brand new grocery store to stock up on fresh vegetables, however the shelves were alarmingly bare. We will have to make do with what is in ships stores until after the holidays. We were joined in the anchorage by BeBe and a British boat, Aegle, which had just crossed from Cape Verde. Their journey was a little unusual in that half way across the Atlantic, their mast cracked. They had to bring all the sails down for fear of losing the mast completely, and complete the passage under power. It was fortunate that Aegle had large fuel tanks, 1,200 miles was a long way to motor. We enjoyed sundowners with both boats, on Christmas eve.

After Christmas we took Helacious west, along the coast to True Blue Bay. Here Jake spent a couple of days completing his PADI open water certification. Then we went on a tour of the island along with Lori and Dan. Our first stop was in the center of the island, at the highest point (582m), the Grand Etang Rainforest, where there was a small lake in the extinct volcano crater and some quite friendly Mona monkeys.

After that excitement it was time to taste some rum. The distillery we were taken to was quite historic, River Antoine Estate was established in 1785 and it still uses many of the original methods to produce rum to this day. The sugar cane is locally sourced and harvested by hand. The presses that grind the cane to extract the syrup are powered by a huge water wheel. The discarded cane is then used as fuel to feed the furnace that concentrates the syrup before fermentation. The final distillation flasks are, if not original, still fairly old. Unfortunately because it was the Christmas holidays, nothing was actually operational, except the final step of bottling. That too was very basic, filtered through cheesecloth and bottles filled by hand from an “igloo” then capped.

At the end of the tour, there was of course a tasting. The 69% abv, which is exported, tasted like paint stripper. The stronger 75% abv, which is for the local market, was marginally better. Needless to say, we resisted the sales pitch and left empty handed. The final two stops for the day were at a chocolate factory (great dark chocolate from Belmont Estate) and a refreshing dip in the river at Mt Carmel waterfalls.

Our last days in Grenada were spent exploring the underwater sculpture park. The sculptures are set among sandy canyons between coral outcrops. It was fun swimming around trying to identify them. They were all at about 20feet deep, so a little hard to get really close to.

And just like that 2023 was over. The fireworks over Grand Anse beach just outside St Georges, the capital of Grenada were quite beautiful, a fine end to 2023 and a lovely way to herald the new year. Bring it on 2024!

Brian Russell 12/8/23 Brian Russell 12/8/23

Type II fun.

Brian reefing the sail on passage to the Caribbean.

Wise men say there are three kinds of fun. Type I:-the activity is fun at the time it is happening; Type II fun- it is fun looking back on the activity from some point in the future; and Type III fun, which is not actually fun….ever. We do not plan on having any of the latter, but Type II does feature quite a bit in the sailing and cruising lifestyle. But more on that later.

After launching we sailed south to Deltaville and met some friends from a couple of years ago, the crew on Django, a young Swiss family; Stephanie, Joffrey and Valentine. We shared our first passage down to Antigua with them in 2020 and anchored alongside for a couple of weeks as we all recovered and took stock of the new surroundings in the Caribbean.

We also visited new friends, Bill and Chris, OCC port officers who have a home and dock just south of Deltaville. We tied up to their dock and spent a lovely day walking in their woods, visiting on Helacious and to cap it all, a wonderful meal in their home. Thank you so much for your hospitality.

We were watching the weather, and wanted to be a little closer to the entrance of the Chesapeake, should a break in the weather permit a departure. We untied from their dock and moved to the south side of the Mathews peninsula and anchored in a favorite spot on the East River. Here we waited for 10 days for a suitable weather window to make the passage from USA to the Caribbean islands. While we waited we watched the leaves turn golden and the sunsets become more dramatic. We were gifted 2 dozen home-grown oysters by a couple who lived across from our anchorage. We enjoyed them over a couple of days, trying different ways to prepare them. Thanks, Tim and Ruth!

Finally we got a forecast from our weather router service that we could sail with. The deciding comment was, “it is not perfect, but it is not going to get any better”. We were so ready. Midnight Thanksgiving eve, as all those turkeys were being brined, we pulled up the anchor and washed off the Chesapeake mud, pointed our bow south and set sail for Martinique.

Wrapped up, thermal layers to the 4th level we set off. We negotiated our way past all the tankers and container ships waiting at the entrance of the bay for a chance to unload their cargo. As we exited Chesapeake Bay downwind in 25 knots gusting to 30, the sun began to rise.

The strategy on this passage was to head down the coast of Virginia toward Cape Hatteras then cross the Gulf Stream at that point. The wind was forecast to diminish. The effect of the north wind contrary to southerly strong Gulf Stream current, making steep waves, should be reduced. We monitored the water temperature, watching it increase from 64°F to 83°F as we entered the stream, the track of the boat in the strong current began to veer off, the heading and COG (course over ground) diverged by as much as 20°. Twelve hours later we were through the stream.

It was a rough ride - too rough to fish, which was a big disappointment to Brian. We emerged on the other side of the warm waters of the stream and now the strategy was to make as much south as possible to escape the oncoming lows that were sweeping down from the NW. We pulled out all the sails; Main, genoa and staysail and sailed hard. It was a rough and rolly passage. The seas were confused (if you have ever been in a confused sea, you know exactly what I mean), and we had a lot of green water over the deck. There was also the rarer breaking wave that crashed over the whole boat. We spent most of our watches sitting on the floor, wedged in next to the Nav station. It was low, secure and less energy was involved in bracing against the boat’s constant movement. After the third day even our Starlink satellite dish had had enough of the constant motion. It went into “stow” mode, and would not come out. We had to manage the remainder of the trip using the IridiumGo satellite, much slower and certainly no movies.

And so it went for many days. The weather got warmer, the layers were quickly discarded and T shirts and swim trunks came out. The boat continued to move around a lot and although neither of us got sick, we did not have a huge appetite. Eating was something we did, not something we enjoyed. We turned and headed east, aiming for a point south of Bermuda. It was critical to get as far east as possible before we encountered the Trade Winds. These classic and reliable winds blow from the east, constantly. If we did not make our mileage to the east before encountering them, we would be in serious trouble. We would end up in the Dominican Republic, and not the southern Caribbean we were aiming for. After several days we achieved our goal of longitude 62°W, then turned right and started our trek south.

The seas continued to be large, although finally they were more regular. You could anticipate the movement, rather than having to always react. As we got in warmer waters the chance of squalls and rain showers increased. A squall is no fun on a sailboat, the sudden increase in wind strength and change in wind direction can be very dangerous. We closely monitored the squalls as they popped up on the radar screen, sometimes changing our course to get away from the worst of the winds. Toward the end of our passage we managed to get the fishing lines out. Brian was rewarded with a tasty Yellow Fin Tuna. Not a record breaker, but good for at least 3 meals.

Dawn of day 12, with 175nm to go, the morning forecast for the next 24 hours was not looking good. If we continued on to Martinique we would be facing high winds and 10ft waves on the beam with a lee shore getting closer and closer. We decided to turn and head in to make landfall in Guadeloupe, 75nm to the southwest. Unfortunately it was dark when we arrived, but we had visited the Deshaies anchorage before so knew the lay of the land. We dropped anchor at the back of the pack, and after a couple of attempts, it held. We had arrived.

View over the anchorage in Deshaies, Guadeloupe.

Within 10 minutes of dropping the hook, our phone lights up. “Are you in Guadeloupe? Deshaies?? We are here in a rental house!”. Friends we made in Madeira last year happened to be checking the internet and saw our position. The crew of Nansen had since sailed to Morocco, Senegal and Guinea-Bissau, crossed the Atlantic and sailed the coast of Brazil. They spent a few weeks exploring the Amazon river, and now were here in Guadeloupe! Quelle bon chance! We spent the following afternoon enjoying the view from their cabin, eating crepes (thanks Naïline) and catching up on past adventures, and plans for the future. I am sure we will cross paths again down the way, the adventurous are drawn to each other.

For now, it was time to sleep, wash the boat and the sheets. A couple of baguettes later and already the memory of the rough passage was fading. It was definitely Type II fun.

Blog of our friends on Nansen, an inspirational read if you seek adventure. https://sergezlesamarres.wordpress.com/

Brian Russell 11/9/23 Brian Russell 11/9/23

Sorting things out

Zazu, one of Brians more eclectic sculpures, has a new temporary home with friends until we return.

We left New York just as the UN were in session; a huge naval ship was guarding the entrance to the bay. We sailed under the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge and down the coast of New Jersey and into the Delaware Bay.

We arrived at the entrance to the bay at dawn and spent the day motoring up the channel towards the D&C canal. Delaware Bay is very shallow, great for day sailing and local fishing, but for any boat with a draft of 4 feet or more, the channel was the only option. After an overnight stay in Chesapeake City, an ambitiously named small town half way down the D&C canal, the following day we were back in the Upper reaches of Chesapeake Bay.

A nasty storm was forecast so we made tracks down to Baltimore where our friend and past sailing instructor, Captain Frank, had secured a berth for us at the Yacht Club. The berth was awkward and the wind gusty, not our finest moment in the annals of docking. So dramatic, Helen lost her glasses overboard! No worries, the spare pair came out and we enjoyed a lovely evening catching up on our adventures with Frank and his friends.

Annapolis was the next stop. We arrived just before the boat show so easily found a mooring in the center of town and enjoyed a couple of days walking around, exploring the historical - and not so historical - sights. Who knew Moses had been presented with the design for a submarine so long ago? The bronze at the entrance to the chapel at Annapolis Naval Academy clearly depicts this moment.

It was about this time we had an epiphany of sorts. The status quo could no longer continue. Our home in Tennessee was standing empty and time was not being kind to it. We are obviously enjoying this wandering lifestyle and want to continue for a few more years. We needed to have a family in our home to care for it. We had arranged for a haul out and bottom paint at Herrington Harbor, just south of Annapolis, so decided to extend our time in the boatyard and go home to take care of business. We gave ourselves a month to complete the task, We needed to be back in the water by November, in time to catch weather to head south.

Haul out day came and we were cleaned off and put in the boatyard. We hopped in a car and headed home. Then the fun began. Our neighbors, Julie and Shay were brilliant, helping us unload a lot of furniture and trash. Our sailing friends kept our spirits up. The house was FINALLY finished, with the addition of a staircase railing (after 27 years of living without one).

Treasures were discovered and safely packed away for a few more years. The movers came and by the end we were dining outside, and camping inside until finally the job was done.

We visited Brent and Kianna in Charleston to celebrate a birthday we had missed, then headed back to the boat. Helacious had a little TLC in our absence. Her bottom was painted with 2 coats of Vivid red anti-foul paint. We added vinyl stripes just above to try and prevent the slime that tended to develop on the bare aluminum. New solar panels were added and the blue boxes of electronics that had given us grief since Norway last year appear to be finally fixed and installed.

Finally, 5 weeks after hauling out, Helacious was in the slings again and back in the water. What a month. The spectacular sunset that first night seemed like a good omen for the adventures ahead.

Brian Russell 9/21/23 Brian Russell 9/21/23

Hurricanes

We arrive back in good ol’ USA at Provincetown on Cape Cod, Labor Day weekend. Oh my! What a culture shock. So many people, so many boats. Checking in with the ROAM system worked well, although as it was a holiday weekend it took being on hold overnight before we were officially approved. We anchored on the edge of the huge mooring field and took the long dinghy ride into shore. Provincetown has a business strip that was a wonderful opportunity to people watch.

The Pilgrim Monument rises high above the town of Provincetown. It commemorates the first place the Pilgrims landed, however there was no water supply so they quickly moved on and settled across the bay in Plymouth.

A replica of the Santa Maria in Provincetown harbor. We later saw it making a dash down Long Island Sound to escape hurricane Lee.

The quainter and quieter backstreets were delightful to stroll through. It was hot, we pulled out the summer clothes that had been in storage and enjoyed the feeling of warm sun on our backs.

There was a wide range of art on display in the many, many galleries. We dipped in and out, as we wandered the length of the town. They were not all as blunt as these Bad Dogs shown below.

The following day we went to the beach.

Since our visit, just 2 weeks later hurricane Lee loomed on the horizon and took direct aim for this area. I hope there was not too much damage.

We left Cape Cod and transited through the Cape Cod Canal into Buzzards Bay and the legendary sailing grounds of Marthas Vineyard. The current going through the canal was fairly benign, until the end when we were swirled around under the final bridge.

We spent a few days visiting Marthas Vineyard (most expensive beer ever) and Woods Hole. The Woods Hole Historical museum, Aquarium and the Ocean Science Discovery Center were all great visits. By this time Hurricane Lee was in the news, the precise track was still uncertain, but it was decidedly large and heading our way. We began a hasty retreat west down Long Island Sound toward protected waters we hope.

The predicted track of hurricane Lee was right through the area we had enjoyed this past summer. We still had friends in Nova Scotia and Maine as the storm approached - very little we could do except worry. One of the reasons we spent the summer in the northern climes was to escape hurricane activity. This year the Caribbean has been spared. The north, not so much. Lee is the third named storm to target this coastline this summer 2023.

So what did we do? We arrived in the western most part of Long Island Sound a few days before the predicted landfall of Lee. Oyster Bay is a natural hurricane hole, the shoreline curves sinuously around leaving no direct path open to the sound and no long fetch to create bucking waves. The water was shallow allowing for good anchor scope and the bottom was mud, so strong holding. We stayed there as the storm slid by to the west. We were literally right on the edge.

While in Oyster Bay we visited the motorcycle museum of the most famous current resident, Billy Joel. Pretty impressive, especially as this was only part of his full collection.

The morning Lee passed by we pulled up the anchor and set out for New York. Why the rush? Well unfortunately the following week the UN was in session and when this happens, the coastguard, as a matter of security, closes down the East River. If we did not leave Saturday morning it would be a full week before we could transit and get to our next stop in Brooklyn. The timing of our departure was also critical to make sure we arrived at Hells Gate at slack tide, or shortly thereafter. This area of water is aptly named as it is where the waters from Long Island Sound, the water from New York Harbor and the Hudson river via Harlem River all merge. The tidal currents can reach up to 6kt and whirlpools can form. It sounded terrifying.

Approaching New York under the Throgs Neck Bridge. We passed Rikers Island and the prison ship used to relieve overcrowding. They were playing basketball in the terrace exercise yard.

And before we knew it, we arrived at Hells Gate - we timed it perfectly. The tide just turned past slack so there were no issues passing through the choke point, and we had a favorable current for the rest of the passage down the East River.

What a view. The marina, One15 Brooklyn Marina, was right opposite the tip of Manhatten and Wall Street. The view was unbeatable.

We spent a couple of days exploring Brooklyn with Jake and had some memorable meals. We even found a sailmaker in Brooklyn, although methinks long since out of business. We even had a boat party to show off Helacious to friends and family. Great visit.

Leaving the marina we crossed the bay, dodging high speed ferries and tug boats, and anchored between the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. Unable to land due to security restrictions, we just enjoyed the million dollar view.

The weather presented a perfect passage south, steady wind from the west to send us down the New Jersey shore to Delaware Bay and through the D&C canal to the Chesapeake, our home for the fall. Here we will prepare Helacious for our next major passage back to the Caribbean where we will explore the southern Windward Islands.

Brian Russell 9/13/23 Brian Russell 9/13/23

Retracing our steps.

Sailing west again, into the setting sun.

The journey back to Canada from St Pierre was 2 nights. We had good weather and managed to sail most of the way. We landed in eastern Nova Scotia, Canso, an official port of entry. It is unclear why there are only 4 or 5 official ports of entry where we have to land, and physically tie up before checking in. Both times the checking in process has involved a phone call to a customs officer in Toronoto or Quebec. No eye contact at all. Canso was not much. A fishing port and RV park summed it up. We did score Lobster though, in retrospect, not sure how legal. The guy said, as he departed, “you never saw me”!!

We left Canso the following day and wove our way through rocky pine tree covered islands in sheltered waters to the unfortunately named Louse Bay, it was quite lovely.

We spent a few days there, in the company of sv Flying Fish and crew, watching eagles, kingfishers and seals and searching, unsuccessfully, for the mussels promised in the guide. The wind then blew from the north and we were off, an overnight passage down the coast to Halifax.

In Halifax we had a new set of AGM batteries waiting for us. Our old batteries were still functioning, but their ability to hold a charge overnight, especially when underway and using the autopilot, was getting noticeably less efficient. Additionally this summer had been challenging, the frequent fog and lack of sunny skies to benefit from solar charging put more hours than we would have liked on the generator. Brian had been going back and forth on what batteries to purchase. Should we join the crowd and switch our system over to the very efficient and safe but complex lithium batteries now available, or should we stick with the more conventional lead acid chemistry? The final decision came down to safety at sea. The lithium systems involve many BMS (battery management system) and charging regulators as it is critical that lithium batteries are not overcharged. However these same regulators could in theory turn off the bank if they discovered a problem, and you would be left with no batteries and no way of resolving the problem. Far offshore in a boat that is heavily dependent on electricity for navigation, this would be an issue. Additionally for the cost of making the switch and rewiring systems, we could purchase new AGM batteries three times over. Our new batteries, 5 of the Victron Super Cycle AGM 170Ah, gave us 50% greater capacity for the same footprint. Now it may be time to buy another solar panel to charge them!

New batteries installed. A good mornings work.

The next stop was Lunenburg where we had a date with a master electrician. Since Brian had built the boat we had never actually had anyone look at the electrical system. However there were a couple of new items we had purchased and installed while in Europe that did not appear to be working correctly, or at all. This was the first opportunity to have a recommended expert come and take a look and tell us if they were installed incorrectly, or were we just unlucky and had purchased faulty units. We booked a berth on the wharf at the Fisheries museum and they ran shore power cable out to us to help us test the first item, a Victron isolation transformer. This box is what allows us to charge our batteries and run our systems while plugged in to shore power. It is more complicated in that it does this via induction, keeping the boat physically unconnected -an important safety feature for our metal boat as we do not want stray unexpected currents. The new isolation transformer was supposed to recognize European and American electrical systems and adapt accordingly. We installed it as we left for Norway, but we were never able to use it. Dave came onboard and repeated many of the tests Brian had done, he confirmed it was installed correctly and concluded it was a bad unit. On to the second item, a secondary battery charger which we had bought to boost the efficiency of charging while using the generator. Again, he looked at the installation and tested the unit. Another duff. Our faith in Victron products has taken a hit. Hopefully with Dave’s report we will be able to get both units replaced as we travel down through the US before we leave again for foreign shores.

As we were leaving Lunenburg we passed a Dory being rowed in the bay. These are popular in the area. They are faithful replicas of the small whaling boats that were launched to actually go out and harpoon the whales. The high sides and ability to be stacked on the deck of the main ship made them the perfect seaworthy vessel for the job. They looked really heavy to row.

We spent one night anchored off Carters beach,. We had a chat to the two other boats in the anchorage, exchanging plans and opinions as to the safety of heading offshore right after hurricane Franklin had passed by. The issue was not so much the wind, but residual swell from the storm. We decided Helacious is a strong and heavy boat, we would head offshore to escape the Bay of Fundy currents that could complicate the seas, and hopefully find some wind to sail to Cape Cod.

With a nice red sunset to encourage us, we set off the next morning, USA bound.

Brian Russell 8/25/23 Brian Russell 8/25/23

A brief trip to France

We stayed a few more days in Hare Bay, Newfoundland. There was a wonderful waterfall at the northern end of the bay that had the best swimming holes, we just needed swimming weather. Plus the wind was not great for a passage to Miquelon just yet. We could go explore yet another, different, beautiful bay - but why, when we were really enjoying all this one had to offer? In addition, a gale was in the forecast so we decided to stay put, at least we knew the holding was good.

Finally we had a sunny afternoon, the wind dropped and we put the swim suits on.

Our time was not wasted. More smoked mackerel for ships stores! And then our week was up and the weather looked suitable for the crossing.

Miquelon and St Pierre are a territory of France. Despite being only 12 miles from Newfoundland (and 2373 miles from France), they are “full on” French. No English spoken, euro used, Boule played, and baguettes sold. They were initially settled by Basque fishermen in the 1600’s. Control of the islands over the years switched from French to British and back again, finally becoming a French territory in 1946. During prohibition they profited from smuggling to the US. In 1931 it is reported 1,815,271 gallons of whisky were transported from Canada via St Pierre to US shores. Currently the predominant industry is fishing, mostly shellfish and squid since the collapse of the cod fisheries in the 1990’s.

Miquelon, although the larger of the two islands, only has about 600 residents compared with the 6000 in St Pierre. It is geographically interesting in that there are two distinct islands: Grand Miquelon to the north and Langlade, joined by a long isthmus sand bar. It is known for the free roaming horses that wander all over the island.

We had a good sail and tucked in to the small town marina on Miquelon. There was room on the wharf between two fishing boats. Customs was closed, but we checked in the following day, good to go.

A priority was to stock up on some fine french cheese and a baguettes. With these supplies we set out to hike around the northern point of Miquelon, Cap du Miquelon.

Looking back from the cape toward the town of Miquelon.

It was very windy, blow you off a cliff windy. The hike was about 10 miles, beautiful vistas, interesting flora and some very wet sections.

The following day we rent a couple of bicycles from where else but the food truck! Fortunately the wind had abated and the sun was shining. We rode south, 25km to Langlade. The roads were relatively flat and in good condition.

Sand dunes, part of the 7 mile sand bar that links the two islands.

Half way down the sand bar the road turned to a gravel track. On a bicycle this was not a welcome change and we quickly decided to abandon plans to transtit the whole way to Langlade. We instead had lunch and a nap atop a grassy sand dune with fine views all around. Brian even managed to get a great photo of a merlin as it hunted for lunch.

The following day we slipped our lines and sailed south to St Pierre. As we approached the island we were surrounded by puffins. They are very shy but with a characteristic flight pattern. They stayed at least 50m from the boat, almost impossible to photograph.

We tied up on the marina wharf and checked in to the office. It was late afternoon, exploring St Pierre, checking out the boulangerie and fine restaurants, could wait until the following day.

The next day turned out to be a Saints day, and as such EVERYTHING was closed. No groceries, restaurants or croissant for the very hungry crew of Helacious. We survived on ships biscuits one more day. We did look around though. In the center of town there was a large surfaced area with huge orange wall at one end. We had stumbled onto a Basque Pelote game. Teams of two played, it was similar to raquetball, but with wooden paddles and no side walls.

The tournament was part of the St Pierre Basque Festival. As each side scored the announcer updated the totals and accordion and drummer played some tunes, similar to the organ at baseball games. Between each match there were folk dances. This group performed some fancy footwork and high kicks, akin to Irish dancing.

Walking around town we peered in the windows of the shuttered stores and watched a few games of boules. We were definitely in France.

We checked the weather forecast that evening. There was a weather window for our 250 mile passage southwest back to Nova Scotia. If we missed this opportunity the winds were unfavorable for at least another week. There was no choice. The next morning we did a run to the Super-U grocery store. What a treat, wine, cheese, saucisson and glorious fresh vegetables. After 3 weeks of outport shopping and living off ships supplies, we loaded up a shopping cart and wheeled it all back to the boat. That afternoon we left St Pierre, wishing we could have enjoyed a few more days there, but ready to start the journey back to USA.

Brian Russell 8/6/23 Brian Russell 8/6/23

Newfoundland revealed.

The constant fog we had experienced so far was wearing. Sensory deprivation, no colors, no scenery. We decided to see if inland the weather was better. White Bear Bay is one of the longer fjords along this coast so we took Helacious up there. It worked! As we started the 7 mile journey into the fjord the fog thinned and the many waterfalls, no doubt engorged by the recent rains, came into view.

We anchored near the head of the bay, just past Blow Me Down Point. There were a few cabins here as the cliffs gave way to rolling hills.

We took the dinghy to the head of the fjord where it transitioned into a river. We spied a family of otters fishing- successfully pulling trout from the water one after another, then eating them on the bank. We followed for quite a while as they stayed just ahead of us, always watching to make sure we did not get too close.

The following day we decided to try and catch some of those trout. We returned to the same spot but had no luck. We met a boat of local Newfoundlanders who were just returning from fly fishing for salmon further up the river. As they left us their outboard failed to start. We ended up towing them the 2 miles back to the cabin with our little electric motor. It did surprisingly well.

After chatting to Mary and Henry, and their guests Joy and Bill, we were invited back in the afternoon to go for a hike on their trail up to the hills behind the cabin. This was wonderful as most everywhere we have been the undergrowth is impenetrable right from the waters edge. We followed the mossy trail over a stream, up through the woodland and out to the top of the hill. The views up and down White Bear Bay were spectacular. The black flies were fierce. Brian broke out the head net. Unfortunately I did not, thinking I was protected with my hood and cap; I suffered the next few days with welts on every bit of exposed skin.

From the peak we looked back to the interior of Newfoundland. It rolls on for over 100 miles before reaching a road. It was incredible to think of so much wilderness. As we scanned the hillside we saw a large male caribou browsing on vegetation and wandering in our direction. It was a fantastic 20 minutes or so before we were spotted and he turned tail and trotted off.

Back down at Henry and Mary’s cabin we sat around the fire pit and were treated to drinks chilled with iceberg ice. Bill had collected some growlers near his home on the east coast of Newfoundland. 12,000 year old freshwater ice from the glaciers of Greenland! As the ice crackled and popped in our glasses we learned about Henry and Mary’s second career as hunting guides, taking folk from all over the world into the back country to hunt for Moose, Caribou and Bear. It was a perfect day, thank you so much.

The following day we pulled up the anchor and headed eastwards down the coast. La Hune Bay was described as a “not to be missed” anchorage in our cruising guide. Of course we would not want to bypass such a spot.

The huge towering smooth slabs of pink granite, the waterfall cascading down, the lush green pasture, and the sunshine. This was perfect.

The following afternoon the wind began to pick up and our anchor began to drag. The holding in gravel was not sufficient to be comfortable overnight. We pulled up and took a very sporty trip around the headland to a different cove. Here we were sheltered from the winds, but unfortunately not the swell and we had a very rolly night. We moved on. Our next stop was a small outport called Francois (pronounced Fransway) nestled at the head of the bay at the base of some impressive cliffs.

The visitors pontoon, although plenty long for at least 6 boats, was fully occupied by two visiting yachts and a few local rowing boats, tied tightly and permanently in the middle and a chain securing the pontoon taking up the last available space. It is as if they did not want visitors. We moved over and rafted to a fishing boat on the commercial dock.

The following day rain cleared off and we went for a look around. The yards were creatively decorated and the maze of boardwalks weaving between the houses were extensive. Then a hike up and around the cliff tops, and over “The Friar’.

After buying a few supplies (milk, bread and some limp green onions) at Sharons Place grocery store we left to head for Devils Bay. On the way we were doing a little fishing for cod when this sunfish floated by.

The entrance to Devils Bay is guarded by an impressive rock. Blow Me Down Cliff ( a different One from White Bear) is on the list of rock climbing destinations. We passed on that opportunity and anchored at the head of the bay.

The next couple of days we soaked up the sun and enjoyed the results of Brians fishing trips. We smoked some of the mackerel he caught, delicious. The shy Loons who lived at the head of the bay were chased by Brian and his camera, with great results.

Our next stop was yet another “not to be missed” anchorage. Hare Bay has a very narrow entrance between towering cliffs scattered with waterfalls, then opens up to a large bay with two arms. We anchored in the northwest arm. That evening we enjoyed the sunset, the first we have seen for a while as usually our view of the western horizon is obscured by cliffs.

Sunset in Hare Bay. Below we woke up to fog, but it lifted after a couple of hours to blue skies.

We took Dingbat (the dinghy) on a long trip to the northern arm of Hare Bay. Here there was a waterfall…. not to be missed! The scenery as we puttered along was dramatic in its grandeur. The second photo has a yacht in it, so the scale of these cliffs can be appreciated.

Securing Dingbat at the base of the cascading waterfall, we clambered along the waters edge and climbed up the slab like rocks to view the falls. They were indeed, spectacular. And the volume of water!!

Despite the now outgoing tide against us, and the contrary wind, we managed to return the 5 miles to Helacious with the electric outboard, 25% left on the battery. It really is quite good. I must admit I was relieved, I had not wanted to resort to rowing the dinghy. The next few days were gusty then drizzly and overcast, good days to do some home repairs and laundry. Supplies were running low. We had to leave Canada.

Brian Russell 7/30/23 Brian Russell 7/30/23

Foggy and Boggy

Helacious anchored in Squid Hole, Newfoundland.

Crossing over Cabot Strait or “the Chuck” from Nova Scotia to Newfoundland was much more pleasant than the name would suggest. I think we were fortunate with the light winds from the previous few days keeping the seas flat. It was foggy however and we arrived in Port aux Basques early evening with just enough visibility to see the public wharf and get ourselves secured. The wind was building and it blew hard from the east for the next four days. We had doubled all the lines and hunkered down inside Helacious, the diesel heater keeping us nice and warm. We were on the leeward side of the dock, fortunately. However, it did mean getting on and off the boat was a challenge. We finally worked out a way to run a line to the winch to pull us in close enough to the dock to allow us to clamber off.

The boat tied up in front of us was from Norway, they recognized Helacious from our stay in Tromso last year!

Port aux Basques is not picturesque. It is functional and the buildings were very basic. Maybe it was due to the weather, but we saw very little activity. The streets were deserted by 5pm and it seemed the evening entertainment was to sit at the dock in your car, watching us and maybe the ferry arrive.

Finally the wind eased, although it was still from the east, but we were determined to move on. We called harbor control to get permission to depart. This was necessary as the entrance was extremely narrow and the giant ferries, once they get moving, go very fast, impossible to outrun. We were given permission - the ferry was not due to depart for another hour. We slipped our lines and were heading out to the channel when hailed on the radio. The ferry decided it was going to leave NOW, and we were in its way. We managed to dodge out of the channel to let it fly by. So much for a timetable.

We motored just 5 miles down the coast and popped into a lovely circular anchorage called Squid Hole. It had a narrow entrance, but then opened up and was protected from wind and swell 360 degrees. It was damp and foggy, but Brian was determined to go fishing, so off he went. The fish were not biting today, but the fog did lift and the sun came out, so we took the dinghy in to shore to see if we could hike up to a high spot for photo opportunity. We discovered, once ashore, the deceptively green and lush foliage covered thick boggy land, that occasionally gave way to small ponds, sometimes right under your feet. The occasional dense stands of juniper trees were impenetrable, so we had to make do with a short hike to a more modest viewpoint.

As we were walking around, within ten minutes the fog descended again, and Helacious began to disappear into the mist.

The following day we motored on down the coast, the wind still from the east. We stopped for a while over a shallower bank and threw out the fishing lines. What a haul. Brian caught 4 cod and 2 huge mackerel. We had bought our fishing license in Port aux Basques so knew the limit was 5 a day per person for cod (fishing only Saturday thru Monday). No limit on mackerel. Dinner that night was beer battered cod.

Rose Blanche, our next stop is the last settlement along the south coast road to the east. After Rose Blanche the only access to any of the communities along this coast is by boat. It seemed a lot more vibrant than Port aux Basques, the houses were still utilitarian, but colorful. There was the sound of hammering as people were fixing the docks that had been destroyed just last September by hurricane Fiona. We spent the night rafted up to a lobster boat, our timing was perfect, the season ended the previous day, so we were not going to be asked to move at 0600hr. The next day was….foggy, but we headed out to visit the lighthouse regardless. It is the main attraction here in Rose Blanche.

The walk by road to the lighthouse was quite a distance, however as roads were not so important here, most of the houses around the inlets were connected by a lovely grassy footpath. We set out on Big Bottom Trail, and things only got better! The fog made everything so mysterious, it was a delightful walk.

We interrupted John Wright as he was taking some recently glazed bowls to his kiln. He invited us in to see his work, then his wife Jane joined us and soon we were being served lattes in the studio.

The walk on to the lighthouse continued to delight us.

Rose Blanche lighthouse, built 1871, restored 1999.

The fog lifted and as we walked back toward Rose Blanche, it looked quite different. We stopped to admire a set of moose horns displayed on a garage when the homeowner popped out and invited us to see the ones her husband had carved. Well who could resist? We got a tour of his workshop and saw the product of a winters work on display in his “shed”.

After a late lunch, we untied the lines and moved around to a nearby bay for the night. The waterfall at the head of the bay was most impressive.

A couple of days later found us in La Poile, our first outport. La Poile (pronounced La P-oil) has no road access, it is totally reliant on the daily ferry from Rose Blanche. The 60-70 permanent residents that live here get around on 4-wheelers along the concrete pathway that wends its way down the side of the bay. The stacks of firewood spoke to the main source of heating fuel and we watched as a very necessary appliance was delivered to the dock.

Helacious tied to the public wharf in La Poile.

An anxious resident waiting for the ferry to dock.

The next morning we as we prepared to leave we were pleasantly surprised to see the fog lifting. For a brief time we enjoyed seeing the landscape that surrounded us, and as we sailed along the coast we could see hints of the mountainous interior. The fog bank was never far away though.

An afternoon of clear skies allowed us to enjoy exploring the shoreline of Culotte Cove. We dug for clams and squelched through the bog looking at pitcher plants.

The following day it was back to fog as usual and we motorsailed on to Burgeo. Here we tied to the government dock just out of reach of the ferry and stayed for a couple of days as the rain passed through.

Walking around the town of Burgeo we found a prime example of efficiency, the hardware store and lumber company sharing space with the state liquor store. What could possibly go wrong? The views along the coastline from Sandbanks park were lovely. However we were not here in Newfoundland for hazy vistas, if the weather did not improve we would be heading south. We needed some sunshine. A constant refrain has been “ This is a most unusually foggy summer. It is not normally like this. Inland, just 5 miles, the weather is lovely”. We decided to find out if this was true.