Arrival in Newport - Tuesday, Sept. 22nd

Our Viking Route to the US officially ended at 2300 hours on Tuesday 22 September 2009 when we picked up a mooring in front of the New York Yacht Club, Newport, Rhode Island.It took 14 more hours, at least three of which were spent trying to find the right person to notify, to clear US Customs and Border Patrol.

The picture is of Maryam's crew in front of the NYYC Harbor Court facility in Newport shortly after clearing customs and being able to come ashore for the first time.

Wednesday, September 23rd

Arrived in Newport. Awaiting details from Captain Bev!

Sunday, September 20th

We moved from Halifax center to the Royal Nova Scotia Yacht Squadron to get some diesel fuel. Coming over we sailed past Ocean Watch , a 65' steel sloop from Seattle that has just completed a Northwest Passage (from Seattle to here across the top) as one leg of its Around the Americas quest.The kitchen in the clubhouse was closed, but the waitress warmed up some fish chowder -- the best since Bergen. We decided to spend the night and plan to push off for Newport momentarily. Should arrive Wednesday.

Monday - Saturday, 14-19 September 2009

As we awoke on Monday the question was whether we should enjoy ourselves sailing in the Lakes or press on down to Halifax. The winds for the 120 miles between the Strait of Canso and Halifax would be much better by delaying a day, but it would not be dangerous if we left today. I preferred to wait, but everyone was anxious to get to Halifax. Al had some work to do and David & Delphine were quite anxious not to be late for their consular appointment on Thursday. So at 1130 we weighed anchor and motored southwest down through the Lakes. At 1430 we entered St Peter’s Inlet, the southwestern tip of the Lakes, and at 1545 we exited St Peter’s Canal and Lock into the Strait of Canso.

By 1800 we had exited the Strait of Canso and were on our course to Halifax, 220°. As expected, we had to motor into 20 to 25 knot winds with their unpleasant 2 meter waves. We could only make about 5.5 knots, but we were on our way to Halifax. David & Delphine’s cabin in the bow is almost uninhabitable in these conditions, but they did not move to the main salon. The pitching is especially pronounced there as the bow rises on the crest of a wave then falls down into the trough sometimes smashing into the face of the following wave. Waves break on deck right above their heads. And the waves and pitching can cause the anchor, which is carried at the bow, to lift up in its holder and crash back down into it. David did tell me that he got no sleep that night. By 0630 we were down to 5 knots, but we were on our way to Halifax.

Conditions improved during the day Tuesday. At 1515 we entered the traffic control zone outside Halifax, and at 1630 we tied up at the Sackville Landing wharf. It is in the center of the city next to the Maritime Museum. We had electricity, water and a floating dock attached to the wharf. One could not ask for a better spot to tie up. It was also by far the most expensive place we had been -- C$122 per night.

Al had been recruited to take a temporary assignment for the State Department in Central America. He spent most of Wednesday at the US Consulate not far from Sackville Landing preparing for that assignment. It turns out that he and the new Consul had served together at some point.

David & Delphine made their bank deposit to the Consul’s account on Wednesday as no cash or credit cards are accepted at the Consulate, and no interviews are given unless there is proof of payment of the $131.00 in fees. Their interviews on Thursday went fine and they were told they could pick up their 10-year, multiple-entry visas Friday afternoon.


Our boat projects for Halifax included:

-Solenoid for the generator. Finding a solenoid turned out to be a major undertaking involving a lot of phone calls. There were no Westerbeke solenoids in Nova Scotia. I found one in the US, but UPS could not assure me that it could clear customs by Friday. I then found one in Ontario and arranged for shipment to the Puralator depot near Halifax. When I took a taxi there on Friday, it was lost. Finally, Puralator found it and delivered it to the boat Friday night. In the meantime, Trond found one (without Westerbeke’s name on it) at the place he had gone to have the alternator repaired. At least we had a spare now.

-The starboard alternator was not charging the house batteries. Trond took it to a repair shop I had found. They fixed it. It worked fine until we pulled away from the wharf at Sackville Landing. Fortunately the port alternator could still keep both the house and the starting batteries charged, and the generator was now working.

-Fresh water pump -- I wanted to exchange the defective one I had bought in Reykjavik for one that worked. No one was willing to do this.

-Aft sump pump. As with the fresh water pump, the aft sump pump I had bought in Reykjavik could not be fixed or exchanged in Halifax. So much for worldwide service and distribution of Jabsco pumps. We had replaced it with the Johnson fresh water pump whose pressure switch we had burned up early in the trip. To protect it we had added a filter, and the filter required frequent cleaning. I thought we could find a better solution, but not in Halifax.

-David replaced the hinges to the door into the forward cabin with new ones Larry Luce had found in Seattle and sent to us in Norway.

-The starboard navigation light at the deck level was not working. The fitting for the bulb was so corroded it could not be repaired, so Trond replaced it with a spare we had on board.

-Delphine cleaned the inside of the boat thoroughly.

-Provisions: We found a great grocery store called Pete’s Fruiteria not far away. It was a small version of Whole Foods.

-Fuel: After asking around, I decided the best bet for fuel was at the Royal Nova Scotia Yacht Squadron, in a part of Halifax harbor known as the Northwest Arm, about six miles from Sackville Landing. We decided to stop there on the way out.

-AIS display and information being broadcast. I spent several fruitless hours trying to see how to control the information being broadcast on our AIS system.

-Solenoid for the LPG system. We never found a solution for this problem. It would have to wait for Newport.

-A place to stay in Newport. The New York Yacht Club told me they had plenty of moorings available for Maryam next week. I then called Pete Sloss, who keeps his gorgeous Little Harbor, named Snowhawk, in Newport. Little Harbor has a yard and marina in the Newport area. They and Hinckley are now under common ownership, and the Hinckley brand is used. He called Bob Hood, son of Little Harbor’s famous former owner, Ted Hood. (Ted designed and built Maryam’s in-mast roller furling system for the mainsail.) Bob manages service at the yard. Pete said that Bob would be happy to make room for Maryam even though now is their busy time.

-Laundry. We did not find a place to get our laundry done. Same clothes for a few days more.



On Friday at noon we all went to a presentation at the public library by the long-time principal archeologist for L’Anse au Meadow, the westernmost confirmed Viking settlement found to date. This is the site at the northern tip of Newfoundland that we had wanted to visit as part of our “following the Viking Route” theme. The archeologist, a lady from Sweden, believed that L’Anse au Meadow was a staging point for the collection of wood and grapes along the shores of the Gulf of St Lawrence and possibly further south.



I had hoped to depart Friday night, but the weather outside was not very good. So we spent Friday night at Sackville Landing and I went to a movie. The winds between Halifax and Cape Cod were still not very good on Saturday, so we delayed leaving Sackville Landing until 1900. Earlier Saturday, Ocean Watch, a 65’ steel sloop from Seattle arrived and tied up not far from us. Trond, David & Delphine had visited them. They had just completed the first leg of their “Around the Americas” quest by sailing the Northwest Passage across the top of Alaska and Canada. Cruising World’s famous editor, Herb McCormick, was on board keeping their blog up to date -- much better than I was doing for Maryam’s.



As we pulled away from Sackville Landing we decided that we should put out all the sails so that we could pass Ocean Watch under sail. Alas no one was on board to take our picture. We did have a glorious sail over to the Royal Nova Scotia Yacht Squadron. It was dark by the time we got to the RNSYS facility. Finding and tying up to the fuel dock was a bit challenging. The winds weren’t strong, but strong enough to cause a lot of trouble should we have to abort. The fuel dock was 200 meters inside two lines of boats tied up in finger piers. Beothuk, a 100’ motor yacht, was already tied up, but there appeared to be just enough room for us also. This time we resisted the urge to throw a bow line to the man on shore, though he was there asking for it. Instead, Trond hopped off the bow and I was able to swing it out enough so the wind would not slam us into the dock. David tossed Trond an aft spring. Once Trond got that secured, I was able to control the boat, staying close but safely away from Beothuk and not slamming into the dock.



I bought 800 liters of diesel fuel. The dockmaster commented that he had never seen a sailboat take so much fuel. We could have taken twice that amount, but at C$1.20/L I wanted only enough to get to Newport. After refueling we went into their beautiful clubhouse to see if we could get supper. The kitchen had just closed, but a kind waitress volunteered to warm up some fish chowder. We all had a Propeller Pilsner beer and the best fish soup since Bergen. I decided to let Maryam spend the rest of the night at the RNSYS fuel dock and leave the next morning.

Sunday, 13 September 2009

We shifted to local time, Atlantic Daylight Time, UTC-3. We lounged around all morning, mostly trying to catch up with accumulated emails. We pulled away from the wharf at Baddeck at 1515 local and motored down into the Bras d'Or Lakes. I had thought that we could practice sailing, but the crew had little appetite for that. I found a small bay with two branches, protected on all sides, that on the chart looked like a good anchorage. There was a small boat anchored in one of the branches. We could not get our anchor to hold in the other branch, so around 1900 we anchored not far from the other boat in the center of River Cove at 45° 52’N 60° 58.9’W. There was excellent holding, and it proved to be a fine anchorage thru almost 180° of wind shift.

Friday - Saturday, 11 - 12 September 2009

We departed Port aux Basques, Newfoundland, at 2330 UTC. I continued to use UTC time because I would get conflicting reports about the correct local time. Newfoundland and Iran set their standard time 30 minutes off the rest of the world. Nfd’s standard time is 3.5 hrs less than UTC. Nova Scotia and the rest of the maritime provinces use Atlantic time. Atlantic Standard Time (AST) is UTC - 4. As UTC has no daylight savings time, ADT would be UTC - 3. Several in Newfoundland told me they did not observe daylight savings time. I now believe that they were just eccentrics like my grandfather who despised daylight time because it made farmers have to get up before daylight if they wanted to get their produce to market on time. Something tells me fishermen would not like daylight savings time either, and that may be the source of some of the confusion.

The departure was uneventful. At 0020 on Saturday I reported to Port aux Basques Traffic Control that we cleared the harbor, and at 0030 we set sail in a 15 knot wind from 290°. Our course to the entrance to the Great Bras d’Or was 216°; the distance was 89 nautical miles. We were on a very comfortable close reach making good time taking the waves quite well. Unfortunately, this lasted only two hours. By 0230 the wind had backed to 270° and slowed to under 10 knots. We could no longer sail our course, and we could not sail anywhere close to the course with any speed. The seas seemed to have come up a bit. We rolled up the sails and motored down the course. It was pretty rough as we banged into the waves several times a minute. The crossing was neither pleasant nor unpleasant once the seas calmed down a bit. While you are doing it, motoring is not unpleasant, but once you turn the motor off and start sailing, you experience a sense of relief that the motor is no longer running.

At 1330 we reached the Bird Islands that lie just outside the entrance to the Great Bras d’Or. There we saw cormorants, an eagle and lots of seals, but no puffins or guillemots. In fact we saw more seals than we had seen on the whole trip so far. Clearly, there were no Inuit to hunt them here. In passing between two islands, we heard an unpleasant thump. We had touched bottom. It turns out that Maryam’s centerboard was down. With her centerboard up she draws about six feet; down, about 12. There was no damage, but it was startling.

At 1500 we entered the Great Bras d’Or under motor power. There was little wind; the sun was shinning brightly; it was almost T-shirt weather. Nova Scotia is a double peninsula lying northeast-southwest, attached to the mainland in its middle by a narrow strip of land. The northeastern part, called Breton, is actually separated from the rest by the narrow Strait of Canso. The northern part of Breton extends further east than the southern part and ends in Cape Breton. The Great Bras d’Or and the Bras d’Or Lakes are a fjord taking up much of the middle of the southern part of Breton. The fjord opens to the northeast in a narrow channel called the Great Bras d”Or, French for the golden arm. A canal with a lock has been dug that provides access through the other end of Breton into the Strait of Canso.

The Bras d’Or Lakes are a wonderful destination for US East Coast sailors. They offer plenty of good sailing water, innumerable anchorages, and, importantly for those used to sailing in Massachusetts and Maine, no tides and no fog. Breton is also becoming popular for vacation homes. Charles Gaines, my close childhood friend, wrote a very nice little book about building a cabin there. The Lakes’ increasing popularity was evident from the large number of new houses built since I was last here in the mid-1990s.

At 1730 we tied up at the public wharf in Baddeck. Baddeck is the main town on the Lakes. It is a typical small tourist destination with lots of T-shirt shops and several nice places to eat or drink coffee. There was a good marine shop that had a fuel filter I needed as well as some of the new LED lights that are becoming popular. Baddeck had neither of the two things I really needed: a solenoid for the generator and a fix for the starboard alternator. Fortunately, the wharf had shore power, so neither of these was critical. We had a very good seafood dinner (Trond had surf & Turf) with surprisingly good, inexpensive Nova Scotia wine, a Chardonnay and a Cabernet Sauvignon served in carafes by the liter. The local yacht club was a disappointment, but we were able to find a few places where we could get internet access. And we were finally back in the modern world with digital cell phone service, the first since Reykjavik.

Wednesday through Friday, 9 - 11 September 2009

At 0100 Wednesday we had to give way to a fishing boat even though we had the right of way. The captain of the fishing boat was probably not looking at where his boat was going. Or perhaps he just did not care, assuming that everyone else would stay out of his way. He would have the right of way if he was trawling AND if he displayed the proper lights to show he was trawling. He was displaying no trawling lights.This episode points out the importance of having someone on duty who looks out at the sea and not just at the instruments. The AIS and radar are so good they lull one into complacency. AIS identifies almost all of the boats one encounters at sea and shows them on the electronic chart. The computer projects the course of both boats and computes the closest point of approach with plenty of time to change course. Radar also shows most boats at sea. In this case, however, the fishing boat did not have AIS and did not show up well on the radar.

At 0530 we were able to start sailing on a very broad reach with 20-25 knot winds from the north. For most of the time we were flying only our Genoa as we would be overpowered with the main out also. We had a good sail all day Wednesday and into Thursday’s early hours as we made our way south between Newfoundland and Quebec Province in the northeastern part of the Gulf of St Lawrence. At 0100 I changed our intended course to allow us to stay on this comfortable broad reach until we could make a 90° tack toward Port aux Basques at the southwest corner of Newfoundland.

At 0400 David wanted to unfurl the mainsail as the winds had dropped some. Alas, when I had rolled it up, I did not do it properly and it was all tangled up inside the mast. At 0530 David could not get the main engine to start. This was certainly disturbing. There are times where we badly need that engine. My watch began at 0600. As we were still on UTC time, dawn was 3 hours away. David had wanted to start the engine because he thought the boat was going too slowly in the light airs with no mainsail. I was happy to continue to go slowly as we were getting fairly close to Port aux Basques and I preferred to wait until daylight to enter. Fortunately, when I tried to start the engine around 0900, it started almost immediately. At 1000 we tied up at the public wharf in Port aux Basques. We were the only boat in this part of the harbor.

It was a mistake going to Port aux Basques. We should have stopped at Corner Brook as it is a much larger town -- about 25,000 compared to only 6,000 in Port aux Basques. We would be unable to get much of anything done here, but we did find a hotel that had a good breakfast and internet service. Port aux Basques cell phone system is still analog; none of our phones would work here.

We had an extensive work list:
Tangled mainsail. After about two hours of work, including Trond going up and down the mast several times, we were able to get the mainsail untangled and rolled up properly in the mast.
Fresh water pump. I was unable to get the new fresh water pump repaired. It would probably have to be returned to Jabsco for replacement. The only pump I could find was smaller than I liked, but Al was able to install it and we had fresh water at Maryam’s taps again.
We use LPG for cooking. I had gotten a new system installed in Norway. By now we had used up all the gas in both of the tanks. Needless to say, the tanks used in North America are not compatible with European. Thus we could not just swap the tanks in for new ones. We had to buy a new tank and had to replace the connection system. The connection system that the LPG dealer sold us did not include a pressure regulator. The European pressure regulator is built into the mechanism that attaches to the top of the tank. No regulator could have caused a lot of problems. Fortunately, Trond found someone who knew something about LPG systems. He found a regulator but not a solenoid that would allow us to turn off the gas at the tank from inside the boat.
Our starboard alternator was not working. There was no one in Port aux Basques who could address this issue.
Our generator would start but would not stay running. It has a solenoid which opens the throttle when the pre-heat button is pushed. Once the engine starts, the solenoid is supposed to hold the throttle open, but it wasn’t. When I found the spare, it was the old one that had been taken off years ago. A new one had not been ordered. There was none to be had in Port aux Basques. We would not be able to use the generator until we got to Halifax and found a new solenoid.
I had feared that some of the oil on the galley floor that dogged us on the way down from Greenland was from our autopilot. It turns the rudder with hydraulic rams; these may have started leaking. To investigate we would have to empty the entire lazarette. Fortunately, the rams were not leaking, at least not very much. We did re-fill the reservoir.
David & Delphine, with Al’s help, managed to get a new appointment with the US Consulate in Halifax on Thursday, 17 September. They had to pay a lot of money, but at least they were able to get an appointment.
We needed to buy 400 liters of diesel fuel. This turned out to be surprisingly difficult. There were a couple of retirees who liked to hang around the boat as it was probably the most interesting show in town that week. Also, like many Newfoundlanders, they wanted to be helpful. One of them, Dan, arranged for a truck that sells fuel to the fishing boats to come. His nozzle was too big. Then Dan found a contractor who had a rig for supplying fuel to his off-road equipment. By paying full retail plus a charge for him to deliver it, I was able to get enough to get us to Halifax if we had to motor most of the way.
Dan had worked for C+C, a now defunct builder of very good sailing yachts. This had brought him into contact with a number of interesting people, including Ted Turner (against whom I had often raced while I was at McCallie) and Bonnie Bolden Swearingen, the Birmingham girl who had married the CEO of Standard Oil of Indiana (Amoco). He had many good stories about them and their boats. He also confirmed my theory that a new solenoid would fix the generator. Dan had dreams to open a sailboat dealership and sailing school for southwestern Newfoundland. He said there was neither in all of Newfoundland.
The other retiree drove us around on our errands. He waited for us for over an hour as we shopped for provisions at the grocery store. Then he happily drove us around town sightseeing.

Each of Maryam’s crew has many fond memories of the generosity of the people of Newfoundland.

On Friday a rough-looking steel sailboat about 45 feet in length struggled in and tied up next to us in the public harbor. The boat was Canadian, but the crew of three were from England, New Zealand and Alaska. They had been sailing on the west coast of Greenland with the owner, a Canadian professor, doing research at the edge of the sea ice. They said that the had suffered minor damage to the drive train in the ice. They had been following us down the Strait of Belle Isle, but had not heard about the coming gale. In struggling on in the 50-knot winds and pounding waves, they had exacerbated the damage. Now there was a serious alignment problem between the engine and the propeller. Their boat would have to be hauled out of the water. Dashed were their plans of going on to Maine and further south for the winter. This made me triply glad I rode out that gale safely at anchor in Schooner Bay of L’Anse au Loup, Labrador. It even lessened my pique at having damaged the toe rail on the port bow.

Tuesday, 8 September 2009

Shortly after midnight (UTC) as we were drinking and telling stories, I heard and felt an unsettling bump. A glance at the radar indicated we had swung 180°, and though the depth finder showed 5 meters of water, the rudder was probably hitting ground. (The depth finder’s sensor is forward of the keel.) What was a spectacular anchorage for southwest winds was a terrible anchorage for northeast winds. A good anchorage is off a windward shore, or better yet in a bight (a small body of water bounded on three sides) open only to the lee. A terrible anchorage faces open water with the stern in a bight. We weighed anchor, motored out to the center, and dropped it again. There wasn’t a good anchorage in the area, and I did not want to go far after we had been drinking. Our saving graces in this case were lighter winds and excellent holding in sand, ie, the anchor was very unlikely to drag. We spent a less comfortable night than I had expected. This was the first time I had ever experienced a 180° wind shift when the winds were more than 15 knots.

At 1000 UTC we weighed anchor and began motoring to Port aux Basques, 280 miles away. At 1300 we were able to shut down the engine and begin sailing on a close (60°) starboard reach. We were able to do about 8 knots, fast for Maryam. We had a beautiful sail for about an hour, then the wind began to freshen and back. Soon we were close-hauled. At 1830 we rolled up the sails and began motoring again. At 2345 our port (red) running light at the bow quit working. We turned off those lights and turned on the tricolor light at the top of the mast. I have a feeling that the tricolor is supposed to be used only when sailing (not motoring), but I have not been able to confirm this in the regulations. At any rate, a working tricolor is better than non-working lights at the deck level.

Monday, 7 September 2009

Monday began with Maryam motoring down the Strait of Belle Isle. The winds were 25 knots on the nose. The Strait is sufficiently narrow that one could only go straight down the channel. As the tidal current was against us, we moved out to the center in the big ship sector where the current was less. The seas were building. It was getting rather rough, and we weren’t making much progress. All systems on the boat seemed to be working fine, but we were out of fresh water and our fuel was getting a little low.

At 0030 UTC we reached call-in point 4A. I reported my position, speed and course to Belle Isle Traffic Control. As part of the report I had to give an estimated time of arrival at the next call-in point. I knew that the current would change from against us to slack to with us, and I thought that the winds against us would diminish to 15 knots or so. My expectation was based on my extending the forecast we had got in Greenland past its five-day expiration.

Sailors want a totally different weather forecast than most people. Most people want to know the temperature and whether it will rain or snow. They may also be interested in how much sun there will be. Sailors don’t much care about these things. They want to know the speed and direction of the wind. They want that to be precisely forecast for all hours of the day for the next several days, and they want a forecast that will allow them to pick a specific spot and a specific time and see what the speed and direction is forecast to be. If they are at sea, they want to know what the sea state will likely be, but they can derive this from the current and previous wind state. Weather forecasting for sailors used to be a long and involved process. I’ve read books on the subject and even went to a two-day course at the New York Yacht Club. All that has changed with the electronics revolution. One can now download a GRIB file that synthesizes all the extant forecasts and shows the forecast wind speed and direction for any point on the globe for the next five days. New files are posted twice daily. An updated GRIB file is what I was going for when I went swimming in Greenland.

At the end of my report to Belle Isle Traffic, I off-handedly asked, “How much longer are we going to be bucking 25-knot winds?” The answer was, “Not too much longer. The winds are expected to go to 40 knots Monday morning.” The force of wind rises exponentially with its increase in speed. A 40-knot wind exerts four times the force of a 20-knot wind. I told Belle Isle Traffic that we would seek shelter and wait for the winds to diminish. Thus, at 0300 we anchored in Schooner Cove, L’Anse a Loup, Labrador, on the north shore of the Strait of Belle Isle. We spent a very comfortable night, but it did lessen the chance of getting to Halifax in time for David & Delphine’s visa appointment.

At 0900 UTC (0700 local I think) I was on deck trying to stop a halyard from slapping against the mast when 4 men in a 20-foot open boat came by to say that we should go to the town up the bay where we could tie up. They were tending their fish traps in the area. There was a 30-foot fishing boat working traps or a net not far away. It had an inboard engine and small shelter for the operator After a short while I noticed that the 30-foot boat had apparently anchored and the 20-foot boat now had seven men in it. They were all facing to one side, and they were hauling in a net. It looked like a painting from 100 years ago. I woke David who took some pictures with his telephoto lens, but by then they were going behind the 30-foot boat, and the rising sun was in our face.

At 1400 we decided to go up the bay to the town to get water. The wind was blowing hard, but there were few waves in the bay. At the town there was a small man-made harbor for fishing boats. There was a nice space at the entrance where we could easily tie up even in these winds, but a fisherman said there was no water way down there. So I decided to try to tie up next to a fishing boat at the head of the dock. It would be rather tricky because of the wind speed and direction and because it is usually difficult to find a good place on another’s boat to tie our lines. A man on board offered to take our line. Accepting help with lines from a stranger on shore is almost always a mistake, but I thought he might know what he is doing. We tossed him our bow line -- another big mistake -- as it was the easiest to throw and he was close to our bow, not mid-ships where I wanted the line. He tied our bow line off fairly short just as a wind gust started to push our bow hard into his boat. Ordinarily, I can swing the bow back away by gunning the engine with the rudder full over. Foolishly I tried this now. Just as the bow started to move away the short bow line pulled tight and slammed our bow into the corner of his boat. We severely damaged the teak toe rail at the port bow. The damage was not dangerous, but it was ugly. As I write this on 19 September, this damage is the most expensive we have suffered on the trip.

At least we were able to fill up the water tanks. Alas, still no fresh water at Maryam’s water taps. Another pump problem. This time the brand new Jabsco pump bought in Reykjavik had stopped working. This really has been an unlucky-with-pumps trip. I spent several hours trying to fix it but got nowhere. There were no pumps available in L’Anse a Loup. Moreover, it was Canadian Labor Day. We would have to rely on the hand pump for fresh water until we got to Port aux Basques.

We had planned to clear customs & immigration in Port aux Basques. With our unscheduled stop in L’Anse a Loup, I contacted the Canadian Coast Guard to see if we should notify anyone. They gave me a phone number. Though there appeared to be cell phone service in the area, no one in Maryam’s crew could get a signal. So I used a few of the expensive minutes on the Iridium satellite phone. After a few perfunctory questions (name and nationality of persons on board), a very pleasant officer said, “OK, you’re cleared in,” and gave me a number to show anyone who inquired later. What a contrast to the US procedures, which I have normally encountered only in third-world countries.

The gale was not supposed to abate until evening, so we stayed tied up all day in L’Anse a Loup. The people there were extremely nice. Everyone tried to be helpful, including stopping to pick us up if we were walking somewhere. I spent the day in a funk because of the damage to the toe rail, trying to fix the pump, but mostly trying to figure out what we should have done differently.
Don’t throw a line -- particularly a bow line -- to a stranger on shore except in quite settled conditions.
A bow line makes an effective spring line only when it is longer than half the boat length.
If you find yourself tied off short at the bow and being blown in, accept that damage; don’t compound it by using the normal procedure when the bow is not tied.

The weather forecast said, “Variable 10 after midnight, southwest 25 until then.” This means 25 knot winds from the southwest until midnight with winds diminishing to 10 knots and coming from no forecastable direction after that. As we were going southwest, the forecast would indicate that we should wait until midnight to leave. It was unclear from the forecast whether “midnight” was local or UTC. After dinner, as it began to get dark around 2100 UTC, there was almost no wind in the harbor. We decided to leave. As we got out into the bay, however, we found a strong swell and the winds still southwesterly. We decided to go back to Schooner’s Cove and anchor until first light. We dropped anchor in the same place we had done so 17 hours earlier, had an anchor dram (a dram of whiskey taken after the anchor is secure), and started telling stories.

Maryam in Greenland on August 31st

Trond took this while he was on the iceberg in a small fjord called Sermeq Kujatdleq on the north side of Prins Christian Sund, Greenland. As you can see, we are enjoying the summer weather!

Captain's Log - Saturday, 5 September 2009

Saturday, 5 September 2009, with color and context added
More of the same. But at least the sky was mostly clear. The moon wasessentially full and provided nice visibility at night. At 0400 the windshad freshened to more than 25 knots but had veered sufficiently that we wereable to sail the course on a close reach. It was quite bouncy as*Maryam*slammed into the waves and water came rolling down the deck.At 0710 a notesays "Jolt falling off wave triggered the 12 volt alarm, and the B&Ginstruments reset. Is there an incipient short?" (This question has not beenresolved as I write, but it has faded in seeming importance.)

We were also out of water. *Maryam* has two water tanks, each of which holds100 gallons. They are molded to the inside of the hull on either side of themast. The pickup for the fresh water pump is at the deepest part of each tank, the part closest to the center of the boat. We usually close one tankand run off the other until it is empty. That way we know when we have usedhalf of the water. Excessive heeling can foil this technique. When we haveused 1/4th of the water in one tank and it becomes the leeward tank withsignificant heeling, the water runs to the side and the pickup point is nolonger under water. The solution is to switch to the windward tank. We hadhad to switch tanks when we tacked on Wednesday. Now the port tank was emptyand, when we switched back to the starboard one, it seemed empty also. Wehad plenty of drinking water in bottles, but not having fresh water to cookand wash with is troubling. Needless to say, this led to lots of talk aboutwho used up all the water. Unhelpfully, I told of my being 17 days at seagoing from Tortola to the Azores and not using up the water in these sametwo tanks.

Around 1800 we spotted a massive iceberg in the far distance. We had notseen ice since 100 miles out of Prins Christian Sund. All of that ice hadbeen from the east coast of Greenland and was carried south by the East Greenland Current. The water temperature of that current is about 0°C inAugust. This massive iceberg originated from a glacier on the west coast of Greenland and was carried here by the Labrador Current.

The September temperature of the Labrador current is 6°C, warmer than Greenland but stillquite cold. The Labrador Current continues to flow south and is the reasonthe water in Maine and around Martha's Vineyard is so cold even in thesummer.

By midnight the wind had veered to the point that we were on a beam reach, generally a comfortable point of sail.

Captain's Log - Sunday, 6 September 2009

Sunday, 6 September 2009, with color and context added

Sailing east or west, especially in high latitudes, causes one to changetime zones frequently. It can be difficult even to tell what time zone oneis in. Whether daylight savings is observed adds to the confusion. Therefore Universal Time Coordinated (UTC) is often used aboard ships. Our position reports to Greenland Command were at 0000, 0600, 1200 and 1800 UTC for instance.

My note for 0900 UTC says, "Sun born right out of the sea to the east. Almost no clouds. Moon 20° above the horizon to the west, still virtually full. GORGEOUS MORN." And at 1000, "Land Ho!" We could see the mountains of Labrador in the far distance. By 1140 the wind had backed south such that we were on a close reach, but as the seas were not high, it was not unpleasant. At 1230 I reported our entrance into Canadian waters to the Canadian Coast Guard. At 1400 I reported our position, course, speed and destination to the Straight of Belle Isle Traffic Control center via the VHF radio. Canada takes significant precautions to minimize the chance of shipping accidents in narrow waterways. Ships in these waterways have to monitor specific VHF channels and have to report in at designated spots.

By 1600 we were south of the island of Belle Isle and into the straight that bears its name and separates Newfoundland island from Labrador. Time was pressing on us now. The trip across the Labrador sea had taken a day longer than it should have. And we were more than a month behind the schedule I had hoped for last May. Moreover, I was trying to get David and Delphine to an appointment with the US Consul in Halifax. Though both had been to the US, neither had visas. As citizens of Sweden and France, they could enter without a visa under the "Visa Waiver Program," but only if they were on a common carrier, like an airplane. Ridiculously, to enter aboard *Maryam*, they had to have a visa. The penalties were potentially high. I had been told that if I brought them in without a visa, *Maryam* could be seized. To get a visa, one had to pay lots of money, fill out lots of papers with idiotic questions like "List everywhere you have been in the past 15 years," and have a face-to-face interview at an American Consul.

Getting an appointment is often quite a challenge. To get an appointment for Trond in Norway before we left, Senator Sessions' office had to request it. Fortunately, our crew now included retired Foreign Service Officer Al Erlandsen. With his assistance, David & Delphine had gotten an appointment, and I did not want for them to miss it. Taking the Viking Route from Norway to North America, I had wanted to stop in L'Anse aux Meadows, just east of the northern tip on Newfoundland. TheVikings made a settlement there 1000 years ago. (See:http://www.pc.gc.ca/eng/lhn-nhs/nl/meadows/natcul/saga.aspx) It is their western-most settlement yet discovered, the first European settlement in North America, and it would have been a fitting spot for us to spend a day or so. Alas, those days were no longer available, so we pressed on into the Straight of Belle Isle, motoring now as the wind was on the nose.

The current was also against us and it was rough, slow going. But we had successfully crossed the Labrador Sea without a significant incident. At 600 miles, we had just finished the longest leg of our trip.

Captain's Log - Friday, 4 September 2009

Friday, 4 September 2009
More of the same, only it seemed worse because we were getting tired. Sleeping is difficult when the boat is heeling and smashing into the waves. One gets worn down. To make better progress, we tried lots of different things, all mostly to only small avail. For all of Friday, we made 13 miles, better than Thursday, but well below our target of 156 (6.5 knot average). That it was better rather than worse is due to the talents of David Johnson, the Swedish photographer who has done a lot of open-water racing in Australia. David is probably the best at setting and trimming sails that I've ever had on *Maryam*. I've learned a lot from him.

The excessive healing and pitching caused a lot of water to accumulate inside along the port side of the boat. Water would occasionally come over the floor of the galley. It had picked up a little oil, which made for a very slippery floor and constant cleaning with detergent.

Captain's Log - Thursday, 3 September 2009

Thursday, 3 September 2009
More of the same, that is wind on the nose with uncomfortable seas. At 0400 we started the main engine and motor-sailed about 30° off our intended course. By late afternoon we gave up trying to motor-sail. We rolled up the sails and just motored. We made only 112 miles that day, an average of less than five knots. A day neither pleasant nor productive.

Captain's Log - Tuesday, 1 September 2009

Tuesday, 1 September
The run from Prins Christian Sund, Greenland, to the Straight of Belle Isle,Canada, would be our longest open-water leg, 600 nautical miles at 218°. Itshould take four days.
We spent Monday night tied up in Augpilagtoq, a small village deep in PrinsChristian Sund, the 50-mile sound that cuts across the south end ofGreenland just above Cape Farewell. Our projects in Augpilagtoq included:provisioning; the aft sump pump that puts gray water from galley and afthead overboard was not working; the starboard alternator was apparently notworking; and the toilet in the forward head was sticking when pumped.

We provisioned at a store that was surprisingly well-stocked for a community of 150 people. The prices well-compensated the owner; we should have boughta lot more in Reykjavik. This made me wonder where the people, allapparently Inuit, got their money. There was a fish processing plant, but itlooked dilapidated and closed. The men did a little fishing and sealhunting. Perhaps the skins had cash value. I surmised that the Danishgovernment was giving them welfare money.

This has been an unlucky-with-pumps trip. When we could not fix thebrand-new aft sump pump, we replaced it with the new fresh water pump whoseautomatic pressure switch we had burned up earlier. (For the purpose ofemptying the aft sump we do not need the pressure switch.) We had previouslyused this pump to transfer fuel from a storage tank to a working tank whenwe could not get the fuel transfer pump to work.

We have two alternators on the main engine, the port one for the starting battery and the starboard one for the house batteries (the batteries thatsupply electricity throughout the boat). The starboard alternator hadstopped charging the house batteries. We could see no obvious problem (eg,loose wire). Fortunately, we have a switch which connects the housebatteries and the starting battery. Thus the "work-around" would be to openthis switch when the main engine was running so the port alternator couldcharge both sets of batteries. We would need to remember to close the switchwhen the main engine was not running so as not to drain the starting batteryas we ran off the house batteries. The autopilot has always been a big userof electricity. All of the new electronics ( two GPS units, an AIS unit, anda PC with electronic charting) added significantly to the load.

As for the forward head sticking, Trond disassembled and greased itthoroughly.
We departed Agpilagtoq after lunch. We inspected, but did not climb aboard,a large iceberg just outside the harbor that had a massive hole rightthrough it. It looked like a bridge that had broken loose from its mooringsand was floating serenely along.

It took about 3 hours to motor down the remainder of Prins Christian Sund.The mountains on either side were not quite so dramatic as the 1800 meterones we had passed earlier, but they were still quite beautiful and impressive. One interesting characteristic that Trond pointed out is that the taller mountains had tops that were quite jagged while the parts below 600 meters were quite rounded. The contrast was striking and added to thebeauty and allure. The geologic reason for this is that the tops were nevercovered with a glacier. The same phenomenon exists in Norway.

We exited Prins Christian Sund around 5 pm, still under motor power. Thesun was shinning brightly, the wind was from the southwest at 20 knots, andthere was still some ice about. Our course was too close to the wind tosail, so we motored on for another two hours. By then, the wind hadfreshened to 25 knots, but had veered (shifted clockwise) sufficiently norththat we were able to turn the motor off and begin sailing on a starboardtack (wind on the starboard side of the boat).

For the next 15 hours we had a delightful close reach (wind about 60° offour direction of travel). The main sail was partly furled, and the foresailwas our primary staysail. *Maryam* has two forestays (lines that run fromthe forward deck to the mast) from which sails can be flown. The headstay runs from the bow to the top of the mast. The inner forestay is attached tothe deck 10 feet aft of the bow and to the mast about 2/3ds of the way up.Headsails are flown from the headstay, and staysails are flown from theinner forestay. *Maryam's* normal headsail is a Genoa sail, a sail that islarger than the triangle formed by the headstay, the mast and the deck. Thisis furled around the headstay with a roller furling system that can be operated from the cockpit. Staysails are hanked on the inner forestay. This means they must be raised and lowered with a halyard in the traditional manner. We use stay sails in stronger winds when we want the wind force centered around the mast. We were using the primary staysail for this leg.
By mid-day on Wednesday the wind had backed (moved counter-clockwise) south such that we could no longer sail our intended course of 218°. We elected to continue sailing while altering our course to 180°. By mid-afternoon thewind had dropped to 10 knots. We lowered the staysail and unfurled the Genoa. The wind continued to back and in the late afternoon we tacked, thatis we turned the boat so that the wind came across the other side, in thiscase the port side. By midnight it was getting uncomfortable, and with thewind coming from precisely the direction we wanted to go, we were not making much progress toward our destination.

Monday, 31 August 2009, with color and context added:

For such a glorious day, it started badly enough. We had spent the night tied up at the Weather/Communications Station, Prins Christian Sund, Greenland. The totally ruined jetty was in the process of being replaced/repaired. A 30’ old red steel cabin cruiser belonging to the contractor fixing the jetty was tied up at the corner of the pilings which form the edge of the new jetty. We had tied up five feet outside of the red boat with lines to the other corner of the pilings, to shore off the port bow, to a rock just off shore aft, and to the red boat. This is only possible in very settled conditions, no wind, no waves. To get ashore, we had to pull Maryam close to the red boat, climb aboard it, then down to a floating platform, up a ladder, then along an I-beam welded to the top of the pilings. The Communications Station is up 283 steps, in the saddle of several hills where communications towers are situated. The station provides a vital communications link for the 200 airplanes per day flying between North America and Europe.

We had spent Sunday afternoon at the station and needed to go back Monday morning to get an updated weather report for the six-day trip to Newfoundland. Sunday night Al had suggested that I was not up to the 283-step climb, but Monday morning I was the only one awake at 0730 local. So I decided to take the computer up the hill for the internet connection to download a new weather forecast. Fortunately, I put the computer in Al’s new waterproof 66° North bag bought in Iceland. I pulled Maryam up next to the red boat and started to step over. Just as I got my feet on the red boat, I lost control of the line holding Maryam close to it. The boats quickly separated and I found myself with my feet on the red boat and my hands on Maryam. Then I was hanging from Maryam’s lifeline. Then I was in the sub-zero water shouting HELP.

Al came on deck to throw me a line. After a little coaxing, he lengthened the line sufficiently for me to tie a bowline (non-slip knot) with the line under my arms. As Al and Trond started to try to lift me, the contractor brought the float around to the space between the boats and I was able to get on it. Even though the water was below 0°C, it was neither shocking nor painful. I was in the water for a few minutes and in my wet clothes outside for maybe five minutes more, but I never felt that I was losing my wits nor the use of any faculties. It was also not painful. In fact I had no great sensation of being especially cold. Trond had come on deck straight from his bed clad only in his underwear briefs. As I lay in the water looking at him, I thought, “Strange, he looks colder than I feel.” Getting into the pool in St Barths has felt colder, probably due to anticipation. In the end the major losses were to my pride and my iPhone. Al’s 66° North bag worked perfectly. Also noteworthy was the difference between the woolen clothes and the cotton ones: when wet wool continues to provide good insulation; cotton the opposite. I attribute some of my lack of feeling cold to my Marino woolen underwear and new Dale of Norway sweater bought in Bergen specially for the trip .

Trond took the computer up the hill and got a new forecast which indicated a safe, albeit moderately rough passage to Newfoundland. We departed at 1000 local for a glorious trip through Prins Christian Sund, the sound across the south end of Greenland. Our first diversion was into a small fjord on the north side of the sound called Sermeq Kujatdleg with a glacier at the end. We frolicked there for a couple of hours. Trond went on a small iceberg for pictures and the experience. We put a small ice floe into the freezer for use with rum and tonic in the Caribbean. We sailed through ice pieces up close to the edge of the glacier where we tried to provoke a major calving by shooting the flare gun. The sound produced a few minor calves, but not the big one. We celebrated by toasting the crew of Maryam with a small gin on glacier ice.

Our next task was to replenish the water. We thought we could put the bow directly under a large waterfall at the side of the fjord, but a couple of rocks appeared to block the way. So we put Trond ashore with a long line. He tied it to a big rock, led it around a point and we tied it to the bow as a spring line. By keeping the engine in gear, I was able to hold the boat quite steady while Trond secured the hose in a small stream close to the big waterfall. We filled both tanks and, with buckets of water from the stream as it fell into the sea, we washed Maryam’s decks.

Prins Christian Sund (PCS) is about 50 miles long. From the east, where we entered, it lies east-west. It is less than 1/2 mile wide with mountains on either side rising as high as 1800 meters. The eastern end is impassable to non icebreakers until late July. We saw many bergs but had no trouble navigating. PCS is quite deep, but there is one relatively shallow (70 meters) section about 20 miles in called Qornoq. One must transit this at slack tide; otherwise the current can be swift and occasionally dangerous. We caught the tail end of the slack at high tide and got a nice lift as we proceeded west on the ebb.

About 30 miles in is a crossroads with a large fjord to the north and several outlets to the south. There is also a small natural harbor with a jetty to which we could tie by overhanging both bow and stern. We spent Monday night there so we could stock up at the local store and so we could complete the PCS transit in daylight. The name of the village is Augpilagtoq, I counted about 50 homes, but I think some of these were abandoned. Probably 150 people live there. As we entered, the kids came running, and then a few adult Inuits appeared. One spoke a few words of English and more Danish (Greenland is still officially part of Denmark). Danish is sufficiently close to Norwegian and Swedish that we were able to communicate a little. We learned that the 40’ Japanese sail boat we had seen on Sunday (the only boat of size we saw in PCS and the only sailboat in Greenland) had spent the previous week tied up there awaiting good weather for a crossing to Iceland. Augpilagtoq has no bar, but one house was having a wild party with Cajun music audible from more then 100 meters away. We met and exchanged pleasantries with one quite drunk older woman walking home from a smaller gathering at another house. We closed the evening on Maryam with Famous Grouse Scotch and glacier water accompanied by microwave popcorn.

Tough Labour Day in the Sea of Labrador.

The weather is challenging. Some damage to Maryam as we tied to a fishing vessel in rough seas. However, we have made it across the Sea of Labrador, another major step forward.

Our new water pump has failed again. Access to portable water far more complicated than we would like.

Winds of 50 knots.

Sheltering in L'Anse Au Loups. With a population of 635, L'Anse-au-Loup, Canada is located along the north shore of the Strait of Belle Isle, (a body of water separating the landmass of Labrador from the island of Newfoundland). L'Anse-au-Loup is the largest of a group of seven towns strung along an eighty kilometre stretch of highway at the southern-most extremity of Labrador in a region known locally as "The Labrador Straits". Officially incorporated in 1975, it is one of only a few rural towns in the province of Newfoundland and Labrador that still has a growing population.

When the weather improves we will continue down the straight of Belle Isle.

Destination, Port Aux Basques, Newfoundland.

Bev, Via telephone, Labour Day.

From L'Anse Aux Loups Official Website:
9000 years of human habitation

Since John Cabot returned to England in 1497 and reported that the waters around the 'newe found lande' were teeming with cod, the French have been plying the seas of the Strait of Belle Isle. For more than 260 years they have toiled at harvesting whales, cod and seals, and left an indelible mark upon the many coves, rivers and headlands along what is now known as the Labrador Straits.

French place-names that have lasted across the centuries is a testimony to the valuable contribution they have made to the settling of what must have been a hostile territory in those days. Labrador StraitsIt is conceivable that the French have been coming to the Labrador Straits long before that famous voyage of John Cabot. There are reports of fishermen sailing to Labrador from France at least as early as 1504, but as toilers of the land and sea they were likely more concerned with earning a living than getting their names inscribed in history books. Thus, the first known actual documentation of the French in the Strait of Belle Isle was made by Jacques Cartier in 1534. On this voyage he encountered Breton place names such as Baye de Brest, and Baye des Islet and others, which support the claims that French fishermen were already active in the area. Other Breton place names such as Belle Isle, Ile de Groix, and Karpunt/Quiberon were also found along the Strait of Belle Isle, or "Le Grande Baye", as the French and Basques preferred to call it. While the Spanish Basques concentrated their efforts on whaling, the French Basques seemed more interested in cod fishing.Cartier named Blanc Sablon because of the white sand he saw at that place and while there, he made mention of a French ship from Rochelle. This, again, lends credence to the argument that the French had frequented the Labrador Coast in the very early 1500s. For the next 500 years, the waters of the Strait of Belle Isle have been acknowledged as being among the richest fishing grounds on the east coast of North America. Although there are periodic gaps in the documentation of French activity in the Labrador Straits during the 16th century, there is still strong evidence to suggest that their presence had been more or less continuous. We know that Jacques Cartier made a return visit in 1542.

The Spanish Basques were in peak operation between 1540 and 1580, and it is likely the French Basques were there during that time as well. In 1588, for example, a French Basque crew was shipwrecked as far west as Anticosti Island in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. At the start of the 17th century, Champlain concluded that the commercial value of the fisheries of the Gulf of St. Lawrence was potentially more profitable to the French than that of any other commercial enterprise in the colony. From that moment onward, the cod fishery started to develop in earnest.For reasons that are not altogether clear, the concentration of the 17th century French fishery took place mainly in Petit Nord or Northern Newfoundland. It is suspected that shore-based fishing in Labrador was discouraged by the frequent attacks and pillages by the aboriginal peoples. That may help explain why there were only two French ships fishing out of Blanc Sablon in 1675.Augustin Le Gardeur du Tilly, sieur de Courtemanche, was a French-Canadian military officer who decided to seek his fortune on the south coast of Labrador. He was born in 1663 to a Norman family who had immigrated to Canada. In 1702, operating under the protection of the Governor General of Canada, Courtemanche was granted a concession from the king of France that would allow him to hunt, fish, and trade with the Natives. This concession extended all the way from Kegaska River on the Quebec Lower North Shore to Kessessakiou (Hamilton Inlet) in Groswater Bay. With his main fishing establishment at Baye de Phelypeau (Bradore Bay), Courtemanche and his crews of Canadian French concentrated mostly on the seal fishery. Meanwhile, the French cod fishers, sensing improved security from Courtemanche, increased their own fishing activities there as well. Towards the end of the 1600s, England and France were at war which ended with the Treaty of Utrecht in 1713. While the French maintained possession of Labrador, they were effectively expelled from much of Newfoundland. Thus they began looking to Labrador for alternative fishing venues. Consequently, the number of concessions in Labrador increased after the treaty, but the duration and size of the concessions were much less than before. Three of these concessions along the Labrador Straits included one at Riviere des Francais (Pinware River)- 1716; one at Isle St. Modet - 1735; and one at Anse-a-Loup in 1748. Marine statistics from France indicate that fishing activity continued in the Strait of Belle Isle each summer through to 1763. The Treaty of Paris, ending the seven years war, ceded New France, along with Labrador, to Britain and the French were forced to abandon its 'official' presence in the area.The Strait of Belle Isle temporarily became part of Quebec again from 1774 to 1809 to allow for the continuation of the Quebec-based seal fishery. The Newfoundland Act of 1809 divided the responsibility for Labrador between the Governors of Quebec and Newfoundland. The boundary at that time ran through the Blanc Sablon River. Though the French were, by treaty, not supposed to be fishing in Labrador after 1763, there were many reports of French fishermen throughout the region until at least the mid 1800s. L'Anse-Au-LoupAs the name indicates, L'Anse-Au-Loup had been frequented by the French at an early date - possibly as early as 1500. The literal translation of the name is, The Cove of the Wolf or, as we say in English, Wolf Cove. In fact the wolf has, for many years, been incorporated into the official town logo. Even the local hockey team has bought into this translation as it uses the nickname, Wolves, on its jerseys. Yet, it would not be too much of a stretch to think that in actual fact the name has less to do with the animal, Canis Lupis, and perhaps more to do with Loup Marin - a term the French used as a reference to seals. Considering the importance of the seal fishery to the Quebec French in the early 1700s and knowing the vital role L'Anse-Au-Loup has played in the seal fishery in the succeeding two centuries, this bay must have been essential to the sealing successes of Courtemanche and his brother-in-law, Francois Martel de Brouague. Schooner Cove, and all of L'Anse-Au-Loup, has a very rich history, both physically and culturally. Hillside terraces tell the story of the raised beaches left by the emergence of the valley floor following the extreme weight of the Laurentide glacier which disappeared from these shores some10,000 years ago. A people, referred to by archaeologists as Paleo-Indians, have left evidence of their existence in the Labrador Straits as far back as 9000 years ago. At least five prehistoric sites have been uncovered at Schooner Cove spanning as much as 8000 years of occupation. Some of these prehistoric encampments have been identified as Maritime Archaic Indian, and at least one has been identified as Groswater/Paleo-Eskimo. The first shore-based establishment by Europeans was likely owned by the Basque Whalers. There is strong documentary evidence to suggest the Basque whalers and fishermen lived and worked in Schooner Cove seasonally for about 100 years starting in the mid 16th century. Furthermore, because of the sickle-shaped point of land at the southwestern extremity of the bay, it is very likely that even the Vikings would have sought its shelter from the nasty southwesterly gales, more than 500 years before the Basques.

The only Viking evidence discovered to date are the tiny rod-holes found in the rock believed to have contained iron rods used by the Vikings to anchor their vessels to the shore. While these 'Fairy Holes', as locals call them, may not be sufficient evidence that the Vikings had indeed landed there, it does cause one to keep an open mind on that possibility. At about 1710 Courtemanche's successor, Francois Martel de Brouague set up a trading post/fort in Schooner Cove. By 1717 there were 2 French Ships fishing out of this place and in 1726 the French caught 10,000 quintals of dried cod at 'Anse-a-Loup, employing 270 men and four ships. In 1743 five ships and 295 men caught 15,600 quintals. Up until the 1763 treaty, most reports indicate 2 or 3 French fishing ships, with crews of between 75 and 100 men, operated out of L'Anse-Au-Loup each season. Meanwhile, in 1748 Joseph Deschenaux, a writer from Quebec, was granted a concession, or business territory, to fish for cod, net seals, trap fur and trade with the aboriginal peoples. The trapping of fur and netting of seals would seem to indicate some overwintering by Deschenaux's people. Coincidently, the boundary of Deschenaux's concession appears to be almost exactly the same as today's municipal boundary.Enter the English Based Ship-Fishery:Shortly after the 1763 treaty between England and France, fish merchants from the southwest of England arrived on the scene in Labrador. The firm of John Noble and Andrew Pinson established a base in L’Anse-Au-Loup (Schooner Cove) and elsewhere along the coast. They competed with other well-know merchants of the time such as Captain George Cartwright of England and Phillip DeQuetteville of the Isle of Jersey. Although the establishment of Noble and Pinson changed ownership and names several times over the subsequent years, the premises remained operational until the late 1920s when the final owner, Job & Brothers of St. John’s, eventually closed its doors at Schooner Cove forever. For both the French and English, their obsession with the Labrador Straits originated in the lucrative fishery. Even today, the economic mainstay of the region is still driven by both the fishery and its spin-off jobs. The region's current economic flagship is the Labrador Fishermen's Union Shrimp Company Limited, a unique company borne and bred from a political marriage between the local fishers of the area and the Fish, Food & Allied Workers Union. "This cooperative-type venture arose like a phoenix from the east out of the storms and crisis of the fishery with a crusade-like agenda to be the masters of their economic future". The success of the Labrador Shrimp Company is testimony to the resolve of the local people to tackle their own problems head-on and set their own agendas. All they ever ask of government is a chance to put their ideas to work.L'Anse-Au-Loup

TodayL'Anse-Au-Loup was incorporated in 1975 and has since grown to be one of the more prosperous towns in the Labrador Straits Region. Nearly 80% of the town is serviced with water/sewer facilities and each year council invests funds into the connection of new homes to this system. The Town of L'Anse-Au-Loup has bought-in to its role of promoting economic development. While the cod moratorium has placed some restrictions on the municipality, the Town of L'Anse-Au-Loup is developing and growing in spite of this fisheries setback. Largely as a result of the continued success of the fish processing plant, many of our youth are opting to remain at home and out-migration, while still a concern, is not yet a major factor for the Town. A substantial number of the residents boast full-employment in permanent full time / permanent seasonal positions with the private sector, governmental, and/or non-governmental agencies.After the 1763 Treaty with France, and continuing to the early 20th century, fisher persons had been seconded from England seasonally, and L'Anse-Au-Loup had become one of the more important fishing stations in the Straits region.Pioneer settlement began during the 1830s, and by the mid 1800s, larger numbers of people were settling and establishing their own fishing rooms. Some of these settlers, especially the males, came directly from the Isle of Jersey, England and Ireland while many of the females came mainly from the Conception Bay and Trinity Bay areas of Newfoundland. In 1869, the Census recorded 47 people in L'Anse-Au-Loup, 24 of those were born in Labrador. The population gradually increased so that by 1921 there were 106 people registered as living there. With a current population of just over 600 L'Anse-Au-Loup's economy has always been and continues to be the fishery. In the early 1970s, before the days of the fresh fish processing facilities, many people were employed in the local salt-codfish plant. During this period, the private sector, governmental, and non-governmental agencies, began to relocate their mainstream places of business from other areas in the Straits region to L'Anse-Au-Loup. These businesses/agencies provided not only the necessary transportation, communication, and electrical services to the region but also an alternative means of employment to the residents as well. Much has been accomplished in recent years and the Town of L'Anse-Au-Loup has benefitted significantly from its ability to concentrate its efforts on various short and long term community economic development priorities. The construction of the new Town Centre and Fire Hall, and partnering with The Harbour Authority and the Regional Recreation Board to improve their respective facilities are just the latest successful projects taken on by L’Anse-Au-Loup In August 2003 the town hosted a Come Home Year celebration. For ten days the population doubled in size, and by all accounts it was a tremendous success both in terms of nostalgia and in terms of the much needed boost to its local economy. These past successes clearly indicate that the Town of L'Anse-Au-Loup is proud of its accomplishments and will continue to be a good custodian of programs supported by public and private financing.[It is acknowledged that much of the information quoted above regarding the early French presence in the Labrador Straits is derrived from a paper by: Charles de La Morandiere (1962). Histoire de la peche francaise de la morue dans l'Amerique septentronale. Tomes 1-3. Paris: G.-P. Maisonneuve et Larose.] This "History Page" was researched and compiled by: Lawrence Normore, Community Economic Development Officer, Town of L'Anse-Au-Loup (with assistance from the Quebec Labrador Foundation).

In Sea of Labrador Currents Prove Challenging

We've made it through Prins Christian Sund and we are now crossing the Sea of Labrador on our way to Newfoundland. The headwinds and currents are unexpectedly strong and we are now a day behind schedule.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Labrador Sea between Greenland and Labrador
Labrador Sea (French: mer du Labrador) (60°00'N, 55°00'W) is an arm of the North Atlantic Ocean between Labrador and Greenland.
Water depths in the center of Labrador Sea are around 3.3 km (2 mi)[1] and it is flanked by continental shelves to the southwest, northwest, and northeast. It connects to the north with Baffin Bay through the Davis Strait.[2]
The Labrador Sea probably formed by sea-floor spreading that started around 61 million years ago and stopped about 40 million years ago. There is an earlier history of basin formation on all margins.
During the ice age, the North American ice sheet repeatedly collapsed sending armadas of icebergs into Labrador Sea. Rocks that melted from the icebergs today form a layer of drop stones (glacial erratics) on the bottom of Labrador Sea.
One of the world's largest turbidite channels runs N-S in the middle of Labrador Sea. Turbidite avalanches run down this channel for many hundreds of kilometers, many of them ending in very deep water off New England.
The Labrador Sea is the source of the North Atlantic Deep Water, a cold, highly saline water that forms in the Labrador Sea and flows at great depth along the western edge of the North Atlantic, spreading out to form the largest identifiable water mass in the World Ocean.

Maryam is following the Viking Route

Following is what I left in the Guest Book of the Communications Station which we visited Sunday afternoon:

Maryam is following the Viking Route from Bergen, Norway, to the US.
We left Bergen on 3 August and have stopped in Torshavn, Faroe Islands; Westman Islands and Reykjavik, Iceland; and Tasiilaq, Greenland. From here we hope to transit PCS and to cross to Newfoundland, then through the Straight of Belle Isle to Halifax and the US. We spent two comfortable nights in the anchorage just north of here as a storm (50 knot winds, 10 meter waves) raged outside.

Maryam is a 52' GRP sloop built by Hank Hinckley in 1982. Her hailing port is Birmingham, Alabama, the hometown of the captain and owner, Beverly Head.

The five crew include two Americans, a Norwegian, a Swede and his French girlfriend. The first mate is Trond Hjertø, a Norwegian on his third Atlantic crossing, whom the captain met in Ulsteinvik, Norway, where Maryam was prepared for the voyage. Al Erlandsen is a retired Foreign Service Officer from Seattle. He has a wooden sail boat there.Al contacted the captain through a mutual acquaintance, Larry Luce, who helped prepare Maryam. The Swede, David Johnson, is a professional photographer who has raced extensively in Australia.
Delphine Monnier, is from La Plaine sur Mer on the Bay of Biscay. She is a recent graduate of Nantes University where she studied integrated marine management of coastal areas. David and Delphine learned of the voyage from the captain's posting with the New York Yacht Club, which is his club.

We salute the staff here at the Communications and are quite grateful for their generous hospitality.

Prins Christian Sund - Storm

Maryam is currently tied up very uneasily to an almost completely ruined jetty at the weather/communication station at the eastern entrance to PCS. We arrived PCS from Tasiilaq Friday morning just ahead of a big storm. The harbor here was totally unsuitable for riding out the storm. However, as we knew, PCS has many fine anchorages. We just spent 2 very comfortable nights at one on the north side of the eastern entrance. The winds outside were 50 knots with 10 meter waves. At our anchorage winds were 25¨to 35 knots but, as we were anchored right up next to the head, no waves. Good holding, a splendid anchorage.

The passage from Tasillaq here was fine with a lot of excellent downwind sailing in 25 knot winds. With the south flowing current we made good time, which we needed to do to beat the storm we knew was coming.

After 2 days of very rough weather, today is gorgeous -- one of the nicest all year so I'm told -- only the sixth sunny day this summer.

Passage through PCS should be spectacular.

The station here is not primarily a weather station as it was billed in the literature. Weather data collection is completely automated and controlled from Denmark. The 5 people here are Danish contractors who keep the communications equipment operable. This is one of the major communications points for the 200 flights a day between Europe & North America.

The people here are extremely hospitable and have let us use their internet connection. Hence my ability to send this email. I was also able to download a weather GRIB file, which indicates we should have a nice, easy 700 mile passage to the Straight of Belle Isle at the northern point of Newfoundland. We will leave Monday night or Tuesday morning. It should take about 5 days.

We are running a little short on water, and the water they have at the jetty is not potable, as was the case in Tasiilaq. Fortunately, there is a waterfall nearby where the water falls into the sea. We should be able to drive under it and fill up. We also should be able to go right up to a glacier face.

I hope I have better luck sending this email. Keep up the news from home.

Bev

Greenpeace Boat in Tasiilaq

Maryam rafted up next to Greenpeace boat in Tasiilaq, Greenland. Capt Bev poses while 1st Mate Trond tends the fenders.

We hope to leave on the 375 mi sail to Prins Christain Sund tomorrow. PCS is reputedly one of the world's greatest passages.

Tasiilaq, Greenland

Maryam rafted up next to Greenpeace boat in Tasiilaq, Greenland. We hope to leave on the 375 mile sail to Prins Christain Sund tomorrow (Wednesday, August 26th). PCS is located in the southern tip of Greenland and is reputedly one of the world's greatest passages.

Maryam Arrives in Greenland - Aug. 24th

Bev and his crew arrived safely in Tasiilaq, Greenland on Monday. Tasiilaq, with a population of about 1800 people, is the most populous community in eastern Greenland.

On route, iceburgs were plentiful, but luckily they are translucent and almost glow, making them easier to spot.

FRIDAY AUG. 21st
We have someone delivering fuel in 2 hrs & then off to Tasiilaq Greenland (400 mi). Looks like good weather window. Should arrive Monday. Will work our way down East Coast and transit Prins Christian Sund, reportedly one of the most spectacular passages on earth.
In general the weather is getting dicier. A train of new lows forming over Newfoundland and stirring the seas between here and there quite dramatically. The passage from Greenland to Newfoundland will have to be timed well.
Hurricane Bill should not be an issue here. Hopefully it goes north of St Barths.

The list of repairs to the Maryam during our stay in Reykjavik includes:
1. 2 sails needed repair.
2. Replaced fresh water pump & removed the accumulator tank. It should not have been left in as the rapid on/off of the pump (that caused the hammer sound in the pipes) burned up the switch on the fresh water pump installed in Norway.
3. Replaced aft sump pump (drains aft head and galley sink). We botched the servicing of the old pump.
4. Main engine had two leaks in the cooling system.
4a. The major one filled the transmission with sea water. Potentially catastrophic. Replaced the transmission fluid cooling unit and flushed the transmission with new oil. Appears to be working OK.
4b. The minor one took longer to fix as we had to add new metal in several places.
5. We practiced with all of the sails.
6. Not a problem, but we needed provisions for 20 days as Greeenland may not have much.
7. Fuel transfer pump appears not to work. Spent many hours on this with no resolution. Will make do with 300 gal in the forward tanks.

Bev in the Blue Lagoon

After 5 days of problems with the boat, Captain Bev takes a break in the Blue Lagoon.
The silica is supposed to be good for the skin.

In Port - Reykjavík

Tied up next to us in Reykjavik were Ralph & Robert Brown, two brothers enroute from Tampa to Germany in a 21' Flats Boat. (ON the boat may be more accurate as there is no interior.) They strongly recommended Tasiilaq Greenland, their previous stop.

From the Brown's website: A shallow water boat crossing the Atlantic Ocean, captained by Ralph and Robert Brown, will set multiple Guinness Book World Records! A US Marine (Former), Ralph's idea is to “Do More Than Just Say Thanks” for our wounded veterans.This voyage keeps a 29 year old solemn promise Ralph made to honor fallen heroes from the ill fated 1980 EAGLE CLAW mission (pdf) to rescue the US Embassy hostages in Iran in 1980. Ralph, as a United States Marine, was on the original roster to go, but a different unit was called up, and Sgt. John Harvey, Cpl. George Holmes, and SSgt. Dewey Johnson lost their lives.Setting out on June 27, 2009, the goals of this heroic adventure are to set new Guinness Book World records for a Transatlantic crossing and to raise money for Wounded Heroes from the USA, UK and Canada.Two brothers, Ralph and Robert Brown (Author of the book “Bermuda Suicide Challenge in a Flats Boat”) are crossing the Atlantic Ocean in a Dreamboats Intruder 21' Flats Boat - a small, open fishing boat (no cabin, no keel) that is able to operate in two inches of water. Their first World Record was an Atlantic Trip was from North Carolina to Bermuda and back to NYC in 2007. The Dreamboats Intruder-21, powered by ultra reliable Interstate Batteries and a single Suzuki outboard, will be the first Flats Boat (and the smallest power boat) to cross the Atlantic Ocean. This voyage will take them from Tampa, Florida, up the US east coast, to Canada, Greenland, Iceland, London England and ending at the /Landstuhl Regional Medical Center/.near Frankfurt, Germany. The "I Am Second" voyage team is planning a reception with the wounded heroes being evacuated from our current conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Tasiilaq has approximately 1,700 inhabitants. It is the largest town in East Greenland. The town has a picturesque setting in a fjord surrounded by high mountains and bisected by a small river.The flower valley behind the town has a unique flora and is a popular area for both short and long hikes. Tasiilaq is on the large island of Ammassalik, which is situated less than 100 km south of the Arctic circle.

Reykjavík

From Wikipedia:

Reykjavík is located in southwest Iceland. The Reykjavík area coastline is characterized by peninsulas, coves, straits, and islands. Reykjavík has many volcanoes.
During the Ice Age (up to 10,000 years ago) a large glacier covered parts of the city area, reaching as far out as Álftanes. Other parts of the city area were covered by sea water. In the warm periods and at the end of the Ice Age, some hills like Öskjuhlíð were islands. The former sea level is indicated by sediments (with clams) reaching (at Öskjuhlíð, for example) as far as 43 m above the current sea level. The hills of Öskjuhlíð and Skólavörðuholt appear to be the remains of former shield volcanoes which were active during the warm periods of the Ice Age.

Reykjavik seen from Perlan.
After the Ice Age, the land rose as the heavy load of the glaciers fell away, and began to look as it does today.
But the capital city area continued to be shaped by earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, like the one 4500 years ago in the mountain range Bláfjöll, when the lava coming down the Elliðaá valley reached the sea at the bay of Elliðavogur.
The largest river to run through Reykjavík is the Elliðaá River, which is non-navigable. It is one of the best salmon fishing rivers in the country. Mt. Esja, at 914 m, is the highest mountain in the vicinity of Reykjavík.
The city of Reykjavík is mostly located on the Seltjarnarnes peninsula, but the suburbs reach far out to the south and east. Reykjavík is a spread-out city; most of its urban area is in the form of low-density suburbs, and houses are usually widely spaced. The outer residential neighbourhoods are also widely spaced from each other; in between them run the main traffic arteries and a lot of empty space.

Westman Islands

We are in the Westman Islands just south (& part of Iceland). Just behind the building one can see the volcano whose eruption in 1973 almost destroyed the town & harbor. The people fought the lava's advance by spraying seawater. When forced to choose between saving the town or harbor, they saved the harbor.

Puffin Anyone?

The Westman Islands is home to the largest puffin colony in the world. 10 million Puffins live here.

We are on a small Island off the coast of Iceland that they call the Pompeii of the North because it got wiped out by a volcano in 1973.

The entire city was buried. The authorities told the inhabitants they should not go back but they did anyway. The rocks are still hot around the mountain.

We had puffin for dinner, it tastes like liver. A very dark meat.

We're heading to another Island that is brand new. It popped up out of the water in 1963. It was a dramatic, fire-and-brimstone birth that erupted from the icy sea off the south coast of Iceland, among the Vestmannaeyjar (Westman Islands) at 63° 4' N, 20° 3' W. No one is allowed on it because scientists are studying how life forms on a new Island.

We're going to sail around it before heading to Reykjavik, which is a 14 hour sail away. We need to make some sail repairs there. The Crew working out well.