Captain: Mike
Crew: Dick, Tod
I departed Cleveland Hopkins at 0605 Thursday, July 24 on Air Canada bound for Toronto with a second leg to Halifax. The first leg, to Toronto, was beautiful. The dawn was beginning to break and the sky was filled with small puffy clouds, leaving good visibility to the ground. The plane was a small twin-engine turboprop and it flew at a relatively low altitude. As we crossed over Lake Erie, I could see some freighters and a couple of small boats and the edge of Georgian Bay off to the northwest. As the sun rose, its rays struck the clouds, transforming them into colorful puffy cotton balls. A really beautiful sunrise experienced from right in the middle of it. Wow.
The second leg was different. In the interim between flights, the sky had clouded up entirely and no ground was to be seen anywhere for the entire flight, only an endless blanket of white.
When we landed in Halifax, I rounded up my luggage and rented a car. Dick’s flight was not due to arrive for another hour, so I left the car in its parking spot and went into the terminal, grabbed a bit of lunch, and waited for Dick. I had no idea what he looked like, but I figured that by looking the passengers over I could spot him. That proved true, and we found each other almost immediately.
We hopped in the car and away we went, up towards North Sydney and the ferry to Port-aux-Basques.
Our ferry wasn’t due to depart until 0100 Friday morning and we were supposed to be in line an hour before departure, so that gave us a couple of extra hours to kill. A woman at the tourist information booth at the airport had suggested we take a small detour up to Pictou, which we did. At Pictou, there is a small museum and a replica of the Hector, which was the ship that brought the first load of Scottish immigrants to Nova Scotia. While the ship was just your typical sailing ship, the museum building itself was really neat! The interior was almost a barn-construction, with exposed wooden beams. The floors and walls were planked and there were several levels with some areas open to the roof above.
After the museum we went next door and had supper at a little waterfront restaurant and then were on our way to North Sydney.
Once at the ferry terminal, we parked the car, decided to grab a bite to eat, pizza, in case there wasn’t much on the ferry given that it was an 0100 run, then turned in the keys to the car (you can just leave the car at the terminal for the rental company) and waited for the shuttle bus to take us onto the boat. The 0100 run turned into at least an 0200 run.
Dick had had the foresight to reserve dormitory-style bunks for us, so I immediately crawled into bed while Dick roamed around on the ferry to check it out. The ferry was the Joseph and Clara Smallwood and is the same one I had ridden on a trip to Argentia (southeastern corner of Newfoundland ferry port) a couple of years earlier.
We arrived in Port-aux-Basques the next morning and the weather was pretty good. The walk to LaVida was a bit further than we cared to drag our luggage, so we called Mike and then a taxi.
At LaVida, we introduced ourselves to Mike and he welcomed us aboard and showed us around.
A week and a half before, the transmission on LaVida had broken down and Mike was able, by operating the engine at idle speeds, to hobble back to Port-aux-Basques. The new (used) transmission and the repaired old one had just arrived the day before Dick and myself, earlier than Mike had expected, so we had a couple of days wait before the appointment to be towed over to Isle aux Morts for haulout where Mike could change the transmission and cutlass bearing so that we could begin our journey to Montreal.
Friday, we strolled around Port aux Basques, visited the traffic control office, and in the evening headed for Lukey’s Boat Lounge where a dart tournament started at eight.
Saturday, we strolled around some more, went to the library, and did some grocery shopping.
Sunday, the weather was looking good and the forecast for Monday was rougher, so Mike called Lloyd to see if he could tow us before the weather window closed. Mike rigged up a towing bridle and before long Lloyd and his crew pulled up off our bow for hookup.
Monday we were up and at it early in preparation to change the cutlass bearing and install the repaired transmission. The second transmission from Al in Kentucky was strapped in its crate to the leg of the salon table.
Monday night was spent on the hard in the slings of the travelift, a single oak block under the keel. The wind had picked up as predicted and at times the boat swayed so much that it felt like we were still in the water.
Tuesday we finished up the installation and were having trouble with the shaft alignment, none of us knowing what the heck we were doing, so Mike asked the yard mechanic, soft-spoken Dennis, to do that final fit up. Dennis showed us what he was doing and had the job done in a jiffy. That afternoon we cast off and motored out past Port-aux-Basques, with Mike monitoring the new installation. A few miles later he announced that we had to turn back; the transmission problem was still there; it had not been repaired properly by the St. John's shop. So, just before sunset around we turned to limp back to port at idle speed.
Wednesday we removed the old transmission and installed the Kentucky model. It took us all day to make the changeout, including aligning it according to Dennis’ instructions. As a measure of precaution, Mike asked Dennis to swing by and double check it for us, which he did Thursday before work. Verdict: within tolerance.
After Dennis completed his inspection, we buttoned up LaVida and headed out again, fingers crossed. Our destination was the Madeleine Islands for refueling.
Friday midday we arrived at the Madeleine’s and refueled and did some grocery shopping, then were off again towards the Gaspe Peninsula. Actually got some sailing in and tried out the Monitor windvane. The vane steered a broad reach with 150 genny only with some difficulty, wandering about +-10 degrees from the desired course. It looked like there was too much slop in the components.
We sailed all night and day and late Saturday evening, 2200, we arrived at Riviere du Rennard. There was a big party going on complete with bonfire and food concessions. We ordered cheeseburgers and fries, snarfed them down, talked with a local guy and his son about the tides and currents, then headed out again, motoring upstream along the south shore. The night was pleasant and star-filled and we made pretty good time.
Sunday midday we stopped at Rimouski for refueling and took advantage of the stop to get a long overdue shower and a good square meal. I had a bowl of seafood soup that was very good: shrimp, scallops, fish, mussels, potatoes, celery, etc. Then came some lox with onion slices and capers and finally a nice Caesar salad, all washed down with a glass of LaBatt Bleue and some ice water.
Away from Rimouski we hurried and 15 nm later we anchored in Ha Ha Bay. No sooner than the anchor was set then a small seal popped up nearby to scope us out. Unfortunately none of us had a camera handy. We waited for low tide at 0100 on Monday to start out again.
Monday morning we started out again and motored to Riviere du Loup, a small commercial harbor. It was an exercise in anchoring…..we anchored 3 or 4 times as commercial traffic entered the harbor, swinging around far enough that we were at risk of being hit. One of the boats was a barge laden with pulpwood logs. Weighing an all chain rode and CQR anchor for a 14,000# boat is a bit of a workout.
That evening it turned chilly. Make that downright cold. I was marginally warm in my sheet and blanket. A gale blew through and we spent Tuesday at anchor burning the last of the propane in the heater.
Wednesday it was still fairly windy but we decided to make a run for it….under power. The waves were running 8’-10’ but were not very steep. We stuck along the south shore until reaching a pass between some islands where we cut over to the north shore to Cap-a-l’Aigle. As time passed the wind and seas abated and as we pulled into the little marina there it was pretty calm. Dick and I called a cab and directed him to take us to a Quebecois restaurant, which he did. The food was fantastic. We had no idea what we had ordered until it showed up, but we were not disappointed.
From Cap-a-l’Aigle we had a long day to Quebec city, arriving in the early evening. The marina is located inside a basin that is separated from the Seaway by a single pair of locks.
Friday we made a quick trip to the store and then headed out for Trois Rivieres, arriving late at night, anchoring around the corner from the marina. I was uncertain whether we would make Montreal the next day, so I departed LaVida first thing Saturday morning, catching a cab.
Actually, catching a cab was an adventure. I called a cab company and asked when they could pick me up to take me to the bus station. Too long, can’t wait, I’ll call another cab company. Same story. Third one says he’ll be there in a few minutes. Sure enough a cab pulls up and I hop in and away we go. We pass another cab a quarter mile down the road headed undoubtedly to the marina. My cabbie waves. I start thinking. I look at the number on his card and browse the call history on my cell phone. This is not the third taxi I called; it’s the second. A few blocks later we pass yet another taxi. The first cab I called. Whoops! What’s the expression? “Early cabbie gets the fare”?
We arrive at the bus station and I buy my ticket and a few minutes later we are rolling southwest toward Montreal……...
