We were fortunate to set off on another annual Northeast Atlantic Cruise. The traditional crew for the trip was once again signed up: Ralph Rodriguez, Captain Dan Harper, Bill Wraith, III (my dad), and Bill Wraith, IV (me). Once again, we were faced with a number of adventures, challenges and tight spots. We managed to come through without any serious damage, but it was tougher up in the far northeastern remote section of Nova Scotia. We found they don't put out navigation aids, even as late as June as you travel north from Halifax. We were able to navigate well, fortunately, by using the many churches dotting the coastline for navigational fixes. The rugged coastline offers distinct rocks and islands to sight off of, as well. Our itinerary included stops all the way from Halifax to Canso at the northeastern tip of Nova Scotia before Cape Breton Island.

In Halifax, we were able to meet up with our friends, Jim Legere and Sue Whitehouse, of the "Lost Oar Story". We enjoyed dinner at one of the classic seafood restaurants with a great view of harbor in Halifax. While there, we snuck in with two new oars, identical to the one lost the year before. We presented these to Jim and Sue as a gesture of thanks and friendship for their help in recovering the lost oar and for their generous hospitality. None of us knew how much we would enjoy one another, but at the end of the dinner we realized we had much in common amongst us, as different as we were as individuals. I will always enjoy and remember the story of the lost oar and the unlikely friendship we developed with people living in a place remote from our own homes who went to extra lengths to make sure our lost oar was returned to us.

Jeddore was a challenge to enter, as we had to traverse a narrow, winding 4 mile long channel with flats, shoals, and rocks in inconvenient spots all the way there. Once we arrived we were in a well protected small cove where we found a Nova Scotian restaurant, a beer, and some nice hiking along the Salmon River.

Our next stop was Sally's Cove. Here we encountered a bit of a disaster. As we rounded Ironbound Island on our approach to Pope's Harbor, we had some doubt about a rock we were seeing in front of us. It seemed it was unmarked on the chart; however, we thought we could pass between the rock and the shore of Ironbound. As we cautiously approached, Ralph, who was on the bow, warned us of shoaling.  We put the boat in reverse, but Dan wasn't used to the somewhat sluggish reverse of Chaos. We think the problem with power in reverse may have developed after we installed the "cutters" on the prop. The tide was running strong between the rock and the shore of Ironbound, and Chaos just didn't reverse in time. We bounced up on the first section of rock and felt the boat list sickeningly. With each small swell we were pushed a bit further forward. The hull made an awful clunk each time the keel bumped against the rocks below the surface. The listing also made us feel awful, although she really didn't list all that much. Fortunately, Dan understood what would have been very unclear to me, which was that we needed to power forward during the swells, as we were absolutely unable to turn around or make any way in reverse. After a short time we ended up on the other side and sailed on into Pope's Harbor. We were all stressed out (my legs felt a little wobbly), but we managed to go on to get smoked salmon and mackerel at the world famous Willy Krauch's Smokehouse. As we discussed the incident, we realized that the situation was stressful, but not life threatening, and we set about having some smoked fish, salad, and wine in the cockpit.

On our way to Beaver Harbor the next day, bad weather was threatening. We decided to deviate from our itinerary and stay the night in snug Beaver Harbor to wait out the storm. On our way we saw an enormous animal swimming off one of the small islands. Dan at first thought it was a bear, and we headed over to take a look. We were all trying our best to catch a glimpse of the large beast and identify it. In the end, we think we saw a large sea lion, but we still aren't sure. I think Ralph coined the term "seal-bear" to describe our unidentified beast, which got a good laugh at the expense of Dan's hopeful enthusiasm to see a bear somewhere along the way.

At Beaver Harbor I learned something about anchoring. Dan set two anchors and an anchor alarm on the GPS. Nothing happened that night, but Dan explained that we wouldn't have much time to correct a dragging anchor in that small cove.  Later in Maine with my friend Gerry Spehar and Captain Michael, we used this knowledge to anchor in Mistake Island Harbor before an approaching storm. We didn't do as good a job setting the anchor in Maine, though. We ended up spending the night on anchor watch after having dragged the anchor several hundred feet toward a rocky shore in 25 to 30 knot winds, but that's another story. At least we were warned by the GPS alarm, which went off in time to warn us. Before the storm hit, Ralph had to leave to take care of his dogs, who were engaging in mortal combat. We were very sorry to see our traditional sailing partner leave, but he had to take care of business.

On the following day, we sailed for the Liscombe River Lodge. We traversed the Bay of Islands, which turned out to be much simpler than we expected. All the landmarks were surprisingly easy to identify. We were expecting to be confused by a jumble of similar looking islands. At the entrance, we met up with some lobster fisherman. We spoke to them, and they sold us several nice lobsters right out of the bucket. They couldn't have been more fresh. He pulled one up just before we pulled alongside. They warned us not to travel through the Bay of Islands, as there were many lobster pot lines in the area. We didn't find that to be true using the route provided by Dr. Loveridge in his well known cruising guide. Instead we were in water around 30 feet deep almost the whole way and very few, if any, lobster pots or other hazards were seen.

The Liscombe River Lodge turned out to be luxurious. We had saunas, hot-tubs, a pool, a top-notch restaurant, and a 3 hour hike on a trail on the banks of the Liscombe River to view a salmon ladder. We enjoyed all of these luxuries before returning to the boat. Another friendly Nova Scotian, Chester, made sure we enjoyed everything available at the lodge. He arranged to have our fresh lobster made into lobster salad and lobster chowder by the head chef at the restaurant. We enjoyed the soup and the lobster several times in our remaining days on the cruise. They made so much, however, that we were able to leave buckets full of chowder and a substantial amount of bodies and meat with our friend Chester. Hopefully, they enjoyed the feast as much as we did.

On Chester's and Jim Legere's advice, we decided to again deviate from our planned itinerary to go to Country Harbor. We went to the cove on the north side of Mt. Misery. Instead of the usual beat, this day we enjoyed the spinnaker and a gentle broad reach up Country Harbor to Mt. Misery. The P. Ellen was perfect for exploring this cove. We sailed her around the buoys of a fish cultivation facility of some kind first, then beached her in the cove to explore on foot. I think this is the first time we felt we had reached the more remote Eastern Shore of the Nova Scotia.

The weather was threatening to turn nasty again in the evening of the following day. We decided to go straight for Whitehead Harbor. We found a snug cove after a fast sail in strong wind on the south side of Price's Island. We weathered another gale that evening in relative peace.

The next day, we decided we should try to make it to Canso. We would have a difficult time arranging for travel to the airport from Whitehead. We had no cell phone service here, and Captain Michael was waiting for us in Canso. My dad and I put on Scopalomine patches to avoid sea-sickness. We headed for one of the eastern exits to Whitehead Harbor.

We had almost no visibility in heavy fog, but the wind was light. As we approached the exit, we were driving over 10 foot fairly steep rollers that were the result of the previous night's storm. This wasn't a problem until Dan started to get some 30 foot readings on the sounder that didn't make sense to him. The exit was supposed to be 60 to 120 feet deep. He was immediately trying to work the radar to understand why this was happening. Meanwhile, I did my best to sail in circles. Whenever we approached the shallow area, we would see the waves begin to crest and approach 15 foot heights. I hadn't seen very big seas, even in our trips to Bermuda, so the sight of these waves was impressive and a bit scary. Finally, Dan was able to sort things out. There was a small 30 foot deep section in the middle of the exit we hadn't noticed on the chart. This was the area we had approached when we experienced lower depths than expected. We ended up quite near Bull Rock at one point when we identified a green spar and some white water. Dan was finally able to give us a heading, and we soon identified Whitehead Island lighthouse barely showing through the fog.

We decided we should go back in to Whitehead Harbor. The lack of navigational aids and the fog combined with the rough sea running at the exit, as well as some further threatening weather for later that afternoon, made it unsafe to continue. We were surprised by the size of the seas. The gale the previous night hadn't seemed that dramatic and the marine radio reports of seas and winds gave hope for an acceptable weather window that morning to sail to Canso. We thought we could safely take a try at getting out of Whitehead and on to Canso. The actual conditions once we got out to the harbor exit convinced us to return.

We managed to speak to Mr. Munroe and his wife, who had a house close to the end of the town dock in Whitehead. We signed his guest book, which was signed by visitors  from all over the world. He hosts artists at his house who enjoy painting the natural beauty of this remote place. We saw a number of samples of art left with him by visiting artists. He was generous to allow us to use his phone a number of times to contact Michael. We finally arranged transportation by car all the way back to Halifax. We were in the car after our exhausting attempt to exit Whitehead for more than 2 hours. We all slept on the plane on the way back and talked about the all the ins and outs of our decision-making during the confusion about depths on our way out of Whitehead.

Next year, we plan to go on a "best of" Maine cruise. Although Nova Scotia has provided us with wonderful cruising adventures the last two years, the effort and cost of getting to and cruising in Nova Scotia is significant. I would like to return again sometime, but next year we want to go to Maine, an easier project with many rewarding cruising grounds. I hope to sail with Captain Michael in hops all the way from Stonington to Maine in the early season next year.