St John's to Nanortalic Day 6 11/8 - our first gale of the passage

I take over the Watch as normal at 0200 but before George can tuck himself up we gybe the boat to starboard in anticipation of the wind increasing and backing, based on our downloaded weather files. 

Over night the visibility deteriorates and it's necessary to check the radar every 15 minutes for ice bergs. I'm taken completely by surprise when it starts raining at 0445. I'd almost forgotten that such a phenomenon existed. It had hardly rained at all since leaving St Pierre to join Gary in Halifax back in early June! I zipped on the additional canvas screen with its perspex door over the rear of the spray hood in order to keep the rain from blowing in the companionway.

After the Watch handover George went off for his usual early morning recovery sleap. We decided to forgo a cooked breakfast/brunch today because we had plenty of fruit that needed using up before it went off, so it would be Grenola, fruit and yogurt for breakfast. That being so I have mine with coffee in the cockpit in the sunshine in a balmy 15°C! I keep most of my togs on. George has his a couple of hours later. The sailing is pleasant and we make good progress at around 5-6 knots.

At 1600 the forecasted strengthening wind arrives we put a second reef in the main and take a couple of rolls in the genoa. At 1800 the wind increases further and we put the third reef in the mainsail. 

At 2045, as we close on the centre of the depression the wind as expected veers significantly to the north and increases again. As planned, we heave to to wait out the coming 8 or so hours of strong north winds. Things start to go pear shaped. I haven't performed this manouvre in strong winds for some considerabke time and faul to think it through thoroughly. I leave far too much genoa out and don't sheet it in enough and so once round on the starboard tack even though the genoa is backed we are effectively still sailing rather than hove to, we realize we need to get more genoa. 

It's a real struggle to do that in the strong winds and it feels like something is jamming the reefing line. We start the engine in order to head up into the wind and release the pressure on the genoa. At this point I realise that in order to prevent the genoa sheets from chafing on the upper shrouds we also need to change their lead so that they come inside rather than outside the shrouds. In the process of doing that we lose the windward sheet and have a violently flogging genoa. Fortunately the jam in the furling line releases itself and we are able to furl up the genoa. Unfortunately, to compound matters I had left the portside pole out with the sheet running through the end and so we couldn't even sheet it in properly. The flogging sheets immediately wrap themselves in knots around the edge of the pole.

George goes up on the bucking foredeck amidst the chaos to try and sort things out. 

For what seems like an enternity he is up there. First he has to lower the pole and bring the end with the jumbo sized knot of sheets around its end to the deck. Then he releases the end of the haliyard and secures it to the mast base. Then he tackles the knot. He has to return to the cockpit for the marlin spike because the knot is so tight. I'm at the helm keeping the boat in a hove to position under power. In the dark and the chaos George finds it difficult to distinguish one piece of rope from another (most are the same colour because I saved money by buying a long length of rope that I then cut into pieces for the various functions - e.g. sheets, guys, preventers. Eventually George manages to undo the knot but in the process pulls the port preventer through its blocks thinking it was the sheet. He leaves it tied to the rail. We are now able to run the sheets inside the shrouds and heave to on the starboard tack 

George returns back to the cockpit absolutely knackered. By now we both realise we have a full gale on our hands - the wind is howling and the seas are pretty big with breaking crests (I don't have a wind speed indicator). 

It's late afternoon by now and we return below and eat some off the curry left over from the previous night. Whilst eating we realise that we've hove to on the wrong tack and are as a result drifting westward, almost back the way we had come.

We therefore tog up again and with the help of the engine, push the nose through the wind, reduce the size of the genoa further and heave to on the port tack rather than the starboard on which we had mistakenly started out. The engine falters during this manoeuvre (it had been reluctant to start a few times recently). 

We are now drifting slowly east at under a knot rather than as  previously, almost  semi sailing westwards at 2 knots! 

George is shattered after his exertions on the foredeck and so he goes to bed on the starboard bunk in the saloon - the focastle is too bumpy to sleep in - and I take the Watch. It's about 2000. Given we are now only drifting the likelihood of bumping into an ice berg is greatly reduced and so I just check the radar once an hour. I start off the Watch in the cockpit under the now enclosed sprayhood but it's very cold and even fully togged and with a blanket around me after a few hours I have to come below and return to my bunk - the pilot berth on the port side of the saloon.

I fail to record our midnight position and so am not able to give distance run and to go.

St John's to Nanortalic Day 5, 10/8

Around 0030 I wake and notice the boat's movement is more lively and  activity in the cockpit, George is rolling in some reefs in the genoa. The wind has increased. I was wrong about just one reef. I get up to have a pee and then poke my head outside to have a look at the conditions and chat with George. Eventually I acknowledge we need another reef and we both tog up in full oilskins for the first time (they're not really oilskins - come to think of it I don't know why they were ever called that). This time I go up on the foredeck to do the donkey work while George looks after the helm and lines in the cockpit. Once that's done I go back to bed but it's quiet a lively night and I don't sleep well.

I'm up at 0200 to relieve George. It's pretty boisterous and cold, still 10° but the wind chill makes it feel colder. I get togged up. This now involves a lot of layers; long johns, jeans , oilskin trousers, socks, sea boats (I can only just get the right one on over my still slightly swollen foot); T-shirt, turtle kneck, shirt, light fleece, fleece 2, fleece 3, oilskin jacket, kneck warmer, woolly hat. Having a pee is a right performance. Not only that but I forgot to take my bladder and prostate meds and so have been pissing every hour or so!! Anyway, once I'm finally dressed I go back up top to check the fuzzy horizon and the radar and then retire below and make a hot drink and grab a breakfast bar.

I'm back up top every 20 minutes to check for ice bergs and turn the radar on every 40 minutes for the same purpose. Down below I write the blog and increasingly fall asleep in between trips to the cockpit and the toilet! 

I have some very vivid dreams. In one I'm on the boat with Charles sailing very fast down a town high street whilst clinging on for dear life as we swerve around cars and buildings. I know I'm asleep and yell to Charles "wake me up, wake me up" but he doesn't. The dream morphs into another, I'm following an old woman along a path in some woods; the scene is a rather 'dark' version of a Little Red Riding Hood panto.

Eventually the old woman arrives at a house in the middle of the woods and stops outside the front door. I prod her with a stick. She turns round and looks at me. "I know you" she says, "my husband made you redundant." Then a figure of a sour pale looking man dressed in black materialises beside her. He looks at me. "So you're dead too" he says. Somehow I know the old woman can't see him but knows that he's there. She starts punching the thin air where he stands. He doubles up in pain and complains in the way that 'hen pecked' husbands in 1970s TV sit coms did. My watch alarm goes off and I wake up! 

I go outside again to check all is well. It is.

The rest of my watch is uneventful and George relieves me at 0600. I go back to bed and agree with George that I'll stay there until 0830 and set my alarm. Before it goes off George calls - "Tom there's something you will want to see out here". I'm suddenly desperate for a pee again! "Have I got time for a pee?" "Yes". When I get to the cockpit George is pointing off to port. There's a large Ice berg about a quarter of a mile away shaped like a space ship. It's about the size of 6 terraced houses. 

It looks like there's an even bigger one further behind it. As it disappears astern we enter fog ...

...that progressively and soon our excitement and wonder is replaced by anxiety and nervousness. Are there any more out there? Will we run into one? I  switch the radar back on and George goes up to the bow as look out. I get togged up and keep an eye on the radar. The fog thins after about an hour and George goes back to bed around 1100. We're still only making slow progress,roughly northwards, in light airs.

I do the washing up and keep a lookout. Nothing much happens during the course of the morning and very little progress is made.

George gets up around midday and makes an absolutely fabulous brunch of poached eggs and bacon and mashed avocado on sourdough bread.

We enter very light northerly winds in the afternoon and struggle to make any progress at all. We also start to draw near a couple of Chinese Fishing boats and so decide to make use of the engine to clear them and make some progress North. 

I go back to bed around 1500 to try and catch up on some lost sleep. George calls me 1600 because pilot whales and dolphins are in sight. They don't come close to the boat however. I go back to bed.

By 1615 there's just enough wind to sail slowly North East. We get periods of more fog. I start cooking dinner around 1800 and we download the latest weather charts to study over dinner. Over/after dinner we constuct a detailed weather route on the Predict Wind weather app. The weather over the next few days is set to be very changeable with periods of strong favourable winds, calms and strong contrary winds. We must decide which direction we should go in now in order to be in the best position to deal with the wind changes in the future and we need to decide what to do when we enter the period of strong contrary winds which should last for about 8 hours. We decide the best thing to do then is to heave to. Sailing close hauled then will be pretty unpleasant and we would probably make very little if any progress.

Then around 2130 we switch the engine on and motor towards our first new waypoint and I rig both running poles in anticipation of the arrival of strengthening southerly winds.

By 2230 we have enough wind to sail and I go to bed.

By midnight on the 10th we have covered 69 miles in a straight line. There are 443 miles left to run, which means we are about 70 miles nearer than 24 hours ago ( I know the numbers don't add up)

 

St John's to Nanortalic Day 4 - 9/8/25

I start the day at 0200 when I get up for my Watch, as is now feeling pretty normal. I slept well. For the first hour Bonny continues sailing gently northwards at around 2 knots over an almost flat sea. I notice that we have started heading further east than we want and to correct that I have to pole out the genoa to port. At the previous sail adjustment the genoa sheet had been dropped out of the pole when the sail was set to leeward  That means I have to drop the pole run the sheet through its end and hoist it again before partially furling the genoa and then  pulling it out on the pole. Prior to that adjust the angle of the wind vane to head us further towards the west. By the time I have finished and got the boat sailing properly the wind has veered and I have to set the genoa back to leeward. The wind then gradually increases and within half an our or so our speed is up to a more respectable 5 knots. Our weather files indicate we should keep a good wind all day and that it will increase further in the evening.

The rest of my Watch passes without any notable events. Dawn breaks around 0400 and by 0530 the orange orb of the sun hangs over the overcast horizon.

George drags himself out of bed just before 0600, we have a quick chat before I  gratefully climb back into bed for another couple of hours of sleep.

When I get up at 0830, George goes back to bed. He decides having another sleep before breakfast will be better for him 

The sun is out and it's warming up but overall the temperatures have definitely dropped since we left St John's. I listen to music in the cockpit and write the blog. I find writing it on my phone is quite straightforward. I can type with one finger as quickly as I can think!

George gets up in a couple of hours and cooks a wonderful brunch of pancakes and lashings of Maple syrup (too much I'll cut down next time. 

Poor chap has a minor disaster in the galley - the full coffee pot capsizes and he has to make another. We scoff down two pancakes each and then decide more are required. While George makes them I prepare fruit and we have the second round with fruit and yogurt in addition to more Maple syrup!

By the time we have finished brunch it's past midday and we have missed the opportunity to practice our noon sight with the sextant. Bernie will not be impressed! 

The wind increases gradually during the afternoon and we suspect a reef will  be needed before night fall. We undertake a more detailed assessment of the weather files to try and work out what our best course should be now given the winds predicted over the next few days and we conclude we should continue to avoid going east to any significant degree. Then I  run CPN's weather routing plugin on the GFS weather model using the boat polar (sailing performance parameters) I configured in 2023 and the result is more or less in line with our own assessment except it shows we should head even further west over the next 24 hours. We decide to follow it as best we can.

It's cold (10°C) and has got quite lively; for the first time it feels like we are sailing in the high latitudes. We are now at about 54° North. At 2100 we put a reef in the mainsail and then I go to bed. George wonders whether we may need two. I think one will be enough.

At midnight we have covered another 119 miles in a straight line and our distance to destination is 515 which means we have reduced that distance by 91 miles over the last 24 hrs

St John's to Navortalic - Day 3 - 8/8/25 and about Adventurers and Jesters

Early morning on 8/8/25

I get up for my Watch at 0200. I've slept well. We have continued our slow northwards progress during George's Watch. But now the wind has increased slightly and I'm concerned that if it increases further it may be too much to continue to fly the cruising chute. I tend towards the enthusiastic end of the common sense spectrum when it comes to the question of how much sail it's sensible to carry (as I think Mick would testify) but I once got a bit too enthusiastic with the chute and had the devil of a job pulling the sock down over the wildly billowing sail and so I have since been rather more cautious and tend to douse it in anything other than very light winds. 

With George as my crew mate...

....I was for the first time sailing with someone who was further along the enthusiastic spectrum than me (at least when it came to cruising chutes and other forms of thrill seeking). He confesses to leaving his chute out until the wind gets up to 20 knots. He's clearly made of sterner stuff than me. Indeed only yesterday he showed me videos of two of his earlier adventures. 

One was of him skippering his boat and leading a team of 5 in the 'Three Peaks Challenge". 

A youthful George helming Good Report

Good Report under full sail off Bardsy Sound just after the start

That's an annual event to pay homage to one of my heroes, the mountaineer sailor, Bill Tillman. An eccentric ex army officer who fought in the second world war and who in the 1960s/70's sailed a succession of aged Bristol Pilot Cutters with a crew of climbers and others seeking adventure, often cobbled together at the last minute (the crew and the cutter) to the Arctic and other inhospitable places in search of snow covered peaks to climb. Tillman survived two shipwrecks in icy Arctic waters, before being lost at sea, when, way past his prime, he skipperd a sailing/climbing expedition into the south Atlantic. 

The Three Peaks Challenge is slightly less daunting than Tillman's adventures, but nonetheless is definitely not for shrinking violets. Each team of five has to sail their boat (the use of engines is not allowed) from Barmouth, first to Carnafon and send two of the crew to climb Snowden, then on to Whitehaven and climb Scarfell Pike, and then finally to Fort William to climb the highest peak, Ben Nevis. George, was one of the two climbers of that peak!

The second video was a three minute film that George and his brother made and which won first place in the 2005 Kendal Mountain film Festival.

Its name was "Thrill Seekers" and showed our two heroes undertaking a variety of outward bound pursuits including rock climbing and 'naked bracken sledging'!!!

George Bracken sledging' (fully clothed)

The film's a minor classic, the stars are clearly deranged and God help me, one of them is now my crew mate as we sail ever onwards towards icy waters! I am definitely not going skinny dipping in Greenland!

Perhaps he's no longer seeking quite the extreme thrills he once did but George is not done in the adventure stakes - not bu a long way. Just a few weeks before he flew out to join me, he was undertaking his latest adventure, a cycle ride from Lands End to Jon O' Groats with his wife, Kate and their dog Kelpe...

I first met George in 2019 when we both participated in that year's Jester Baltimore Challenge, the baby version of the Jester Atlantic Challenge. 

The Jester Emblem 

Established in the 1960s by another Army Officer, Blondie Hasler, who participated in the first solo transatlantic yacht  race earlier in the decade, but who became disillusioned with the excessive rules and regulations that came about and by the banning of boats under 30 feet in length, the now 3 Jester Challenges (the Atlantic - the JC, the Azores - thevJAC; and the Baltimore - the JBC, are open to anyone in a boat of 30 feet or under (or thereabouts).

No rules, no inspections, no fees. Each skipper is entirely responsible for themselves. It is definitely not a race. Its ethos is to maintain the Corinthian spirit in a society which is simultaneously becoming bland and superficial whilst also seemingly intent on its own destruction.

The absence of rules, regulations and inspections does not signify a disregard for safety; on the contrary safety is paramount, but emphasises what, in any case, is a universal truth, each skipper is responsible for his own safety. It's up to him or her how he or she goes about ensuring that, whilst not endangering the lives of others. 

The principle objective is not even to get to the destination (although that is of course an objective) but simply to practice good seamanship; to learn, to test and extend one's own competence whilst being aware of one's existing limitations.

It was under the stewardship of yet another army veteran, Ewen Southby-Tailyour, that the original Jester (Atlantic) Challenge was expanded to include the shorter Azores Challenge and subsequently the Baltimore Challenge. Ewen recognised that not every aspiring would-be Jester could manage their lives in order to sail across the Atlantic and many of those that one day might be able to, would benefit from testing slightly less demanding waters and from the comradary of doing so with other like minded sailors.

I bought my first boat, a clinker built Nordic Folkboat, Zoetje, 

inspired by the experiences of the early Jesters such as Blondie Hasler and Val Howles who sailed their Folkboats in the original Jester Challenge. 

Although my participation in the 2019 Jester Baltimore Challenge on my then Elizabethen 33 ...

Arctic Smoke sailing up the River Medway after the 2019 Jester Baltimore Challenge 

....(slightly longer than the official entry requirements) was the only time I have participated as a Jester, I like to think that I continue to sail in accordance with the Jester spirit and ethos and that's why, inspired by Tillman's adventures and wonderful story telling, I'm sailing on this adventure to the land of ice and polar bears and appropriately enough, am doing so with a fellow Jester, George.

He has sailed both the Baltimore Challenge and the Azores Challenge and has the blue ribbon Atlantic Challenge event in his sights. George personifies the Jester spirit. Not only did he go to the aid of a fellow Jester on the Azores Challenge and tow him for hundreds of miles under sail in often extremely testing conditions (for which he was awarded the Ocean Cruising Club's Outstanding Seamanship Medal) but he also sails and personally maintains his beautiful wooden sailing boat 'Good Report'.

Anyway back to the present, even with 2 Jesters on board, I draw the line at 15 knots, when flying the cruising chute is concerned. It's possible that it may blow that much over the next few hours so I give George a choice. Either we leave it up for now, but in the event of the wind increasing I call him to help get it down, or we hand it now before he goes below. The prospect of being yanked from his deep slumber is too much for George. He finds it quite traumatic to be woken prematurely and decides to humour me rather than face the prospect of experiencing an additional yank, so we get it down. 

In the event the wind does not increase noticeably but with the genoa in place of the chute we are able to sail closer to the wind - a better course for now - closer to North in order to maintain a longitude that's west of Cape Farval. The prevailing winds are generally from the west of south and north in these parts, so we need to avoid the possibility of being set to the east of the Cape. Beating against strong winds in even these moderately high latitudes would not be fun especially in the region of the notorious Cape.

My Watch continues in the same way as George's - we continue to amble slowly northwards. 

The night is overcast and so there are no stars to wonder at, but the full moon puts on another splendid orange show. 

It's pretty cold and so I am spending most of my time down below only going out into the cockpit every 20 minutes to check the radar for icebergs. The Canadian Ice Reports...

....show there may be a few in these waters, but I see none by eye or on the radar during the rest of the day.

My Watch runs its course without significant event.

I hand over to George at 0700 (rather than the standard 0600 because the sail change ate into his sleep time) and then get a couple of hours sleep before cooking breakfast. 

I decide to award the whole ship's company an increase in rations and so each man gets 3 rashers of bacon instead of just 2 and 2 eggs each, instead of just one. Some may regard that as overly generous but a hungry crew are more likely to mutiny than one stuffed to their collective gills and I must remember that George has a secret stash of biscuits in his cabin and so I need to keep him happy 😁!

During breakfast we hear a bang. George pokes his head out to investigate but sees nothing to alarm him and so we continue eating. Later when I go outside, I discover the cause of the bang. The block on the end of the boom through which the clue line runs (the rope that pulls the back corner of the mainsail out to the end of the boom) has broken apart. We find and rig a replacement and reset the mainsail which takes longer than it should due to a couple of tangles.

After that George works on his presentation to be delivered to the great and good of the Institution of Civil Engineers.

The rest of the day somehow slips away as Bonny ambles slowly northwards sometimes completely becalmed for an hour or so.

I cook dinner - sausages and mash. With the prospect of increasing wind overnight we hand the cruising chute once again. George even suggests it!!

I go off watch as soon as that's completed

By midnight we have covered another 60 miles and have another 606 miles left to run. We are also 60 miles closer to "The place of Polar Bears" than we were 24 hours previously.

Blog - St John's to Nanortalic Day 1-2, 6-7/8/25

We motor out of the harbour around 1500, turn into the southerly wind to hoist the mainsail and then head roughly north and pole out the genoa to starboard. 

The sun is out and Bonny is soon romping along in the fresh southerly breeze at 6-7 knots. Unsurprisingly we make good progress and St John's is soon left well behind. 

That evening we spot a couple of whales some way off (and later after some research George concludes they were probably Sei whales) at m the same time we are surrounded by scores of dolphins - some are very excitable, but interestingly, none of them do what all others I have seen did and that's to ride the boat's bow waves.

The sunset is beautiful...

Over night the wind eases slightly, but we still continue at a reasonable pace of 4/5 knots. 

By midnight we have covered about 90 nautical miles and have 745 still to run.

George took the 2200-0200 Watch. 

Day 2,  7/8/25

Just before George goes off Watch a small bird flies into the cockpit and can't get out. George picks it up gently cradles it in his hands and studies it closely.  It doesn't appear injured and so after noting its colouring and shape and the small protrusions on its bill, he throws it back into the air whereupon it fl off non the worse for the experience. Using a couple of bird books on board, George later identifies it as a member of the Stormy Petrel family. 

We come across lots of birds including comical Puffins and the seemingly ever grumpy Shearwaters. We often hear them scolding us as we pass by small groups of them. I'm not sure if it's because we're disturbing their sleep or their feeding! Apparently there are vast colonies of numerous species on the main island and its many satellites. Closer inshore and further up the coast, Bonavista Bay is also renowned for whales.  Unfortunately we don't have time on our side. George's work commitments, my family commitments and most critically from a passage planning perspective, we should transit southern Greenland and get back across to Ireland/UK before the frequency and severity of the North Atlantic's low pressure conveyor belt makes sailing this patch of ocean too unpleasant. So reluctantly we press on without investigating the coastal delights of this beautiful 'new found land'. 

Hopefully, I'll be able to come back and do it properly one day before I get too old and decrepit. I'd love to visit the Azores again too. Vincent seems to be getting keen on doing more sailing and he would also like to go to the Azores again . Perhaps in a couple of years we can do a proper North Atlantic circuit over a few summers!

Here's the plan:

Summer 1 - to Cape Breton (either along the Viking route ( Faroes, Iceland and Greenland) or direct or via the Azores) Winter 1 - leave the boat in St Peter's, Cape Breton.

Summer 2 - Explore Newfoundland. Winter 2 - leave the boat in St Peter's.

Summer 3 - Sail back to the UK via the Azores.

Sounds tempting doesn't it. The trouble is there are so many places to go and so little time left to voyage to them, not forgetting of course my poor long suffering wife and the grandchildren! 

Anyway, back to the here and now.

The wind veered overnight and so at 0200, the beginning of my Watch,  I gybe the boat at to keep us on a more or less northerly track.  From the weather files we have downloaded over Starlink, it looks like we can minimise time spent in calms and contrary winds if we head as directly north as possible for the first 2-3 days, before then heading to Nanortalik.

It's a gorgeous clear cloudless night with a great view of the stars including a few shooting stars. The Plough sits in the sky on our port bow and Bonny heads directly for Polaris. A near full, deep orange moon hangs low in the sky, creating a perfect panoply of ocean and heaven through which we sail ever northwards for our appointment with destiny in the land of ice and polar bears. The name of our destination is "Nanortalik", meaning "The Place of Polar Bears".

I get my head down again for three hours from 0600 and then cook bacon and eggs for breakfast - always particularly enjoyable on a boat!

After breakfast the wind continues to ease and veer and so after lunch of sandwiches and beer in the cockpit in warm sunshine, we set the cruising chute. In the flat sea it's enough to keep us moving at about 2 knots. 

We see dolphins some way off twice more that afternoon.

George cooks an excellent dinner of pork cutlets, mashed potato, fried onions and his speciality, coleslaw.

We continue ghosting along under cruising chute at 1-2 knots in a very light breeze. Fortunately the sea is almost flat and so there are no waves to slow us down.

I go off-Watch at 2200 and get a good sleep.

Our midnight to midnight run is 87 miles and Nanortalik is 666 miles ahead. So we reduced the distance to run by 79 miles

St John's and preparations for the passage to Greenland

After we completed check-in we tidied up a bit and George went out to explore while I literally put my foot up and had a snooze.

George came back armed with maps and guides and we got all enthusiastic about exploring St John's. Then we started thinking about all the jobs we had to do and looked at the weather with a view to establishing a tentative departure date. On  Saturday and Sunday morning, Tuesday morning looked like the best time to depart. By Sunday evening it had become a split decision as to whether Wednesday evening or Tuesday would be best.

We went out for a very good meal on Saturday evening at one of the many restaurants on Water Street. Baked Halibut and Baked Cod!

On Sunday we checked out Bonny's storm rig to prepare her and us for the possibility of facing heavy weather. Thus far I have been fortunate to avoid any very severe weather during the few ocean voyages I have undertaken but the odds of continuing to do so on this trip were reducing. Cape Farval (Farewell), the southern tip of Greenland does like all prominent capes, see its fare share of stormy weather and the North Atlantic between there and Ireland/UK in the late summer is increasingly prone to attracting the remnants of tropical storms. The good news is that unlike the sailors of even very recent years we are able monitor the weather via Starlink and adopt appropriate tactics in advance such as preparing the boat in advance and or changing course or speed (a little) to avoid the worst of the weather.

The above photo shows Bonny's storm jib (the orange one) and trysail (a small sail hoisted in place of the mainsail).

On Monday we rented a car for the day to run various errands and to do a little sightseeing. 

First we had to get an Uber to the Airport to pick up the car. The Airport surprised us both - modern and large, perhaps as large as Halifax Airport. I was for some reason expecting something much smaller like St Pierre. Then again St John's itself was larger too. It is of course the capital of the province of Newfoundland and Labrador and it is the biggest town/city I've visited since Halifax. I guess I'd got so used to the tiny settlements I visited on Newfoundland's south coast last year and to the small towns we came across in Cape Breton whilst on holiday this year, that a small city was something of an assault on the senses.

It's an attractive town apart from the area around the dock where we were moored. 

But one street up we found ourselves on the pleasant main street with almost every building housing a pub or restaurant or cafe. It was also very busy with loads of people making the most of the warm sunshine - something we enjoyed for all four days of our visit.

After picking up the car we made our first cultural stop of the day.

It was huge but not overly busy and a friendly local confirmed it was the cheapest place to shop in the city. We picked up some safety head gear - bycle helmets! George had just been reading "Left for Dead" one of the books written about the legendary Fastnet race of 1979 in which the skipper of one of the yachts subsequently abandoned by the crew, is struck on the head by a flying tin of baked beans and dies of his injury! £25 seemed one of the more reasonable insurance premiums I've shelled out over the years! We also bought two 20 litre diesel cans given we might need to use the engine a fair bit in Greenland waters.

Next we went to find somewhere to refill our propane cylinder. We had a suggestion from Ted, the OCC Port Officer who very kindly dropped by the previous day to help us track down suppliers of boating bits and pieces. Our guide book warned us that it might be difficult to find places able and willing to fill UK cylinders and initially it didn't look promising as the chap studied it with some bemusement. However, after some frowning and tongue clicking he filled it. 

At that point we were feeling pretty pleased with progress and went for a coffee to celebrate. All we had to do next was to by a few shackles and check out the water dock on the other side of the harbour before sightseeing and then shopping back at Walmart.

Three hours later our main achievement was to have established that despite a significant local yachting scene there were no yacht chandlers in St John's. We had called in at half a dozen 'marine' stores who all had a similar and restricted range of boating gear. We found some shackles that would do the job (to secure the Jordan Series Drogue - a sort of sea brake) to its bridal and the bridal to the stern of the boat) even though they weren't ideal.

After finally visiting the water dock we returned to the boat, dropped off our purchases, picked up shopping bags snd headed up to Signal Hill to do our sightseeing. From the top of Signal Hill it's very apparent why St John's was first established by the migratory British Fishing Merchants in the 17th Century as their base of operations on the island and why it subsequently became such a strategic asset for the Royal Navy during the Battle of Quebec and the Napoleonic wars; then the seat of colonial government and finally the provincial capital of Newfoundland and Labrador when Newfoundland was incorporated into Canada in 1949. It's both an extremely well protected and virtually impregnable natural harbour. The entrance/exit which runs roughly east/west and is therefore protected from the prevailing westerly winds, is via a narrow natural cut in the cliffs - "The Narrows" which after about 200 metres opens out into an expansive deep water harbour. Any attempt to take the harbour by force from the sea would have been at the mercy of the gun emplacements high up on the cliffs on either side of The Narrows. The French did briefly take the town during the Napoleonic wars, but from the landward side.

After our all too brief cultural excursion on Signal Hill, we headed for Walmart once more for the big shop. Our approach was fairly haphazard but we did go armed with a list albeit one where our estimates of quantities were rather vague and subject to arbitrary adjustment.

We got back to Bonny around 10 p.m. just in time to help Lea (with Johannes, Olena and baby Vera and their crew mate Flores, on board) tie up alongside. They had left St Pierre a few hours earlier than us on Thursday but had wisely abandoned their crossing to the Azores due to a tropical storm barreling it's way up the Atlantic. Of course it was a bit disappointing for them but it was so nice to be able to spend more time with them.

On Tuesday we prepared the other main item in Bonny's storm wardrobe - the Jordan Series Drogue. I bought it a few years ago for such an eventuality but to my shame had never taken it out of its bag! Now George provided the necessary impetus to prepare it properly for deployment. That's why we were hunting for shackles so long the previous day.

Departure day morning arrived along with a boat load of visitors. David and Inga from sailing vessel Nashawena whom I had met in La Hune Bay last year, had arrived in St John's late yesterday afternoon whilst we were out. Both Architects, their recent base was Lunenburg where they had been working for a local firm over the winter and were now on their way back having almost completed a circumnavigation of Newfoundland. It was wonderful to see them again and to hear their news. Johannes and Olena and Vera also arrived shortly afterwards to chat about their constantly changing plans - will they or won't they try again for the Azores. One hour it looked promising the next it didn't. By the time we left the following afternoon they were really non the wiser about what the weather gods had in store (nor indeed was anyone else). Anyway we had a very pleasant couple of hours over coffee (and cakes left over from Olena's Ukraine visitors the day before) swapping stories and second guessing the weather. Eventually we all had to get on with various chores and so the impromptu gathering broke up. George headed into town to do some last minute shopping and soak up the atmosphere and I got on with a couple of remaining jobs; the most important of which was to fit the replacement mixer unit for the shower that I had carelessly forgotten to drain last winter and which therefore cracked open when the water in it froze!

After saying our goodbyes to Johannes Olena and Vera...

...our last job was to take the boat over to the other side of the harbour and fill the water tank.

That done we exited the harbour at around 1500 local time. Our destination, Nanortalik, Greenland, was around 800 miles away and we estimated it would take around 8 days to get there.

Arrival St Pierre, frustrations, lost phone, friends, goodbyes, departure, whales, puffins and on to St John's

George and I landed in St Pierre around 1445 on 30th July and were outside waiting for a taxi 15 minutes later. We shared a ride with a fellow boater on his way to join his pal's boat and a Newfie who was on his way home for the first time in 20 years - and was only staying a couple of days!

On arrival at the marina we met Michael and Sabine again (who were still awaiting delivery of a new fuel pump - now due in the following day) and Johannes and Olena with their 8 month old daughter Vera on board Lea, who I had last seen in April of last year (minus Vera of course). 

They were leaving for the Azores the next day so it was wonderful timing.

Next I arranged with the ever helpful Katy in the marina office for a lift out to the boat at 7.30 p.m. Then round the corner to collect our propane cylinder. Set back No 1. They hadn't and wouldn't fill it for reasons that we weren't able to fully grasp but must have been due to some sort of protocol that our UK cylinder did not meet. We were a bit pissed off because I had left it there a month ago and no concerns or requirements were mentioned. After further discussion the chap relented and said OK come back at 1000 in the morning. However, when George returned then they had changed their minds again, so we had to leave without filling it. Just hope we can sort something out in St John's 

Set back No 2. I had lost my phone! I definitely had it at the airport after landing but now it had gone. Perhaps I had dropped it there or perhaps in the taxi. Katy tried repeatedly to ring the taxi man who she had also helped us identify, but with no luck. Katy's colleague said she'd continue trying and we should check back later. Failing that it looked like a trip to the airport would be required in the morning.

Then we went shopping having borrowed a trolly and bags from Blaubeere and Lea. We got back just in time for our lift out to Bonny and to receive the welcome news that my phone has turned up.

However, setback 3 was making itself known. I had clearly overdone the walking etc and put to much strain on my foot which was now sore and swollen.

It turned out that I had dropped my phone at the taxi rank at the airport. The Airport staff found it and contacted the taxi driver who said he had just dropped a party off at the marina (everyone knows everyone here). He drove back to the airport picked up the phone drove to marina - asked around,  found Johannes who said yes he knows the guy who's lost his phone he's gone shopping leave it with us - so he did!!! 

We got on board Bonny around 8pm and unpacked and George cooked a beef stew dinner - enough for two nights.

We got up early the next morning and took the boat over to the dock so that we could fill up with water and collect the gas cylinder. Lea had just left so we took the spot she had vacated. Shortly afterwards we encountered the only obnoxious boater I had so far met in Canada. An American yacht that had been moored near Bonny arrived znd announced that we had taken his spot that he had reserved and that he "was coming in" regardless of our presence. George explained we would only be a couple of hours. "Doesn't matter I'm coming in so unless you want to be stuck inside us for a couple of days you'd better move." Clearly we didn't and whilst we could have stayed put and dealt with the situation later, we decided to move back and raft up on Blaubeere.

After breakfast we filled the water tank and spare bottles and George then went on his fruitless quest to the propane supplier.

Next I begged another favour from the helpful marina staff. Could I borrow a Kayak for 15 minutes to fit the Hydrovane  rudder?" "Wouldn't a rib be better - hold on a minute xxxx will take you. I wasn't looking forward to the hassle involved in launching the dinghy and was delighted with the offer.

We finally left around midday after saying goodbye to Blaubeere. 

Michael and Sabine hope to explore Newfoundland's south coast during August and will over winter Blaubeere in St Peter's again  and so we won't see them again this year. Hopefully we'll meet again somewhere someday. They have been so good to me - I was very sad to say goodbye. That's two sad good byes one after the other, first the family (although we'll be back together in a couple of months) and then Blaubeere!

The earlier foggy weather lifted as we headed out and set the sails and for a couple of hours we enjoyed a gentle but sufficient breeze as we sailed close hauled eastwards. Then the engine had to be pressed into service and stayed on until dusk when enough of a breeze from the west allowed us to sail with goosewinged mainsail and genoa until dawn when once again the engine had to be pressed into use. 

I was a little concerned about whether we would have enough fuel to get to St John's. I had arranged for fuel to be delivered that day but it had been overlooked and given we had a good breeze forecast for the first half of the trip I was quite happy that we wouldn't have to wait around for it. However, it was beginning to look like we would need to motor for a lot longer than I expected. We couldn't affor to just wait for the wind to return because when it did the likelihood was it would be a strong headwind on the nose and the east coast of the Avelon Peninsula which would be to our west would be a lee shore.

What I should have done was to have emptied the two jerry cans of spare fuel into the tank and got those filled up at a nearby fuel station, but for some reason it just didn't occur to me! I know I left St Peter's back in June with a full tank and didn't subsequently use the engine much but I had failed to note the engine hours at the fill up. With no working fuel gauge, I was rather dependent on guess work!

That evening we finished George's excellent beef stew.

I cooked a fry-up for breakfast on Friday morning which went down well. Aftewards we went through an area thick with seabirds, Puffins, Shearwaters and Petrals for the most part. I was delighted to see Puffins again, they have been in significant decline back home. The last time I saw one in the wild before my approach to St Pierre seven weeks ago, was as a 16 year old on my first cross channel sail to Alderney on board Equinox an old Bristol Channel pilot cutter run by the then Ocean Youth Club! The broadcaster, author and sailor Paul Hiney wrote about his fruitless search for them on the west coast of the UK some years ago. He was fearful that they were facing extinction. Since then I recall hearing more hopeful reports in the media of their recovery. Out here at least they would appear to be doing fine. We went through numerous groups if them in the water. They'd often wait until Bonny was on the point of mowing them down before scattering in comical ungainly flight shrieking curses at the monster that invaded their space. 

Then suddenly and briefly we heard a  characteristic puff and saw a whale  briefly break the surface about 200 metres away. We think it was a Minke whale. George spotted a second later in the day. 

With no significant change in the wind we continued motor sailing for the rest of the day.

I cooked dinner for around 1930, fried frankfurters with onions, rice and cabbage. Nothing fancy but the crew seemed happy.

After dinner I went off watch early to get some sleep. 1930 to 2330 was the plan but around 2130, George called me to say there was an alarm coming from the engine control panel. It was the temperature alarm which seemed strange as there was plenty of water coming out the exhaust. Anyway we shut the engine down and inspected it. The fan belt had broken and whilst it didn't operate the seawater inlet pump it did operate the pump that circulated the closed circuit coolant. Fortunately I had two spare belts and so after a bit of faffing we were back up and running. I went back to bed only to be woken up again at 2230 with an hour left off watch, by the AIS alarm. George was preoccupied by something on deck so I got up. A cargo ship 13 miles ahead on a direct collision course. Given we were also under power we altered course to starboard to avoid it. By the time we had cleared eachother it was 2300. I'd forgotten I still had half an hour to go and so took over the watch from George. At that point our ETA was 0700 the following morning (Saturday 2nd August) and so George had time for his 4 hours before thungs started to get busy.

Sunset by George 

I got my head down for a couple of hours early on Saturday morning and by the time I got up again we only had 5 miles to run at about 0630. We were in brilliant early morning sun but the coast was bathed in a patchwork of fog. 

As we closed with the entrance to St John's harbour the fog there was particularly thick and one could not see through the entrance at all. 

Once we were a mile off I called up the Harbour Authorities on the VHF to get permission to enter which we got with the warning that there was a cruise ship entering behind us. I looked behind us and it was just visible as it exited another fog bank.

She was soon speaking to Harbour control who warned her about Bonny. A few minutes later she called us up on the VHF and once she discovered how slow we were, she politely asked us if we would wait and let her pass ahead. We obliged and then followed her in through the dense wall of fog having checked with Harbour control once again. Once inside the harbour the fog lifted (or perhaps wasn't there) and we were able to see where we were going which was a relief. 

We moored up on the town quay at about 0800 

Next I called Border Control to clear in. We went through the formalities which ended with the officer saying that the local customs officials would drop by in a few minutes to finish the process. That may have been because my dozy brain was a bit scrambled and I had George and Gary partly muddled up in my head and when asked about George's nationality, I initially said he was from Gurnsey - which he isn't but Gary is!! LOL.

Anyway the local guys arrived soon after, checked our passports and asked a few questions and that was it. Lasted about 5 minutes and didn't even come on board.

My foot's been rather sore and swollen so I sent photos to Dr Stephen who advised to keep the weight off it as if I still had the cast on. I had actually just started adopting the practice and will have to be disciplined about that 

After a coffee and catching up with messages etc, George went ashore to explore. Given my foot, I stayed put.

Family Holiday in Cape Breton

Apologies for some very truncated entries below due to me hitting Blogger's  "Discard" icon rather than its adjacent "Save" icon when the car went over a bump! Bloody stupid design coupled with no recycle bin (that's "Blogger", not me).

Thursday 17th; Vince, Gary and I are collected from St Peter's by Charles and Despina and meet up with the others at the house around 9 p.m..

Friday 18th; A lazy start to the holiday. After a late cooked breakfast we enjoy a local Meadow walk and check out the local beaches in Port Hood that evening.

Saturday 19th - We spent the day at Port Hood's Lawrence's Beach followed by dinner at Big Stop (a sort of upmarket service station).

Sunday 20th We took a 2.5 hour drive up the coast on the Cabot Trail to the Cape Breton Highland National Park. Our destination is the Skyline trail head but on arrival we found the car park full and had to continue on and find another trail. I walked (hobbled) the first part and then returned to the car (in addition to my broken foot I was out of sorts with a tummy bug that ran through the rest of the family over subsequent days). The walkers had a picnic lunch on the trail and afterwards we visited the Whale Interpretive Centre in Pleasant Bay and then returned to the Skyline trail that everyone except me, Sharon and Mabel tackled.

That evening we enjoyed another campfire thanks to Charles.

Monday 21st was Rachel's Birthday but the weather wasn't great and so after a birthday breakfast we lounged around the house for most of the day and then went out for a meal at the Bistro in Port Hood to celebrate.

On Tuesday 22nd we all hired e-bikes from Mikes Bikes and explored one of the many off-road trails that had replaced the old railway network that had been abandoned on cost grounds. There is no rail network left anywhere on Cape Breton today.

Wednesday 23rd. We drove to the trailhead at Egypt Falls and then (me included on my crutches) hiked the 2.5K to the falls along what turned out to be an increasingly steep trail down a wooded gully. By the time we realised it was no place for a man on crutches we all felt committed to getting me to the falls. Concerns about how I'm going to get back up the gully are pushed to the back of our minds and with Charles, Stephen and Vince acting as pullers, pushers and backstops as required, we pressed on sometimes hanging on to ropes strung along the more tricky patches of the trail.

The falls were beautiful and everyone except me and Sharon were soon bathing in the large pools at their base. The kids loved it! After a while Charles climbed up to the pools at the upper level and soon all but the three youngest kids joined them.

After a picnic lunch it was time to face the inevitable and probably the ultimate challenge I would face whilst on crutches - the climb back up the gully. It turned out not to be as challenging as we had all imagined it would be. With the help of the three boys pulling/pushing /holding/ catching me as the situation required we made our way back up to the car park. The journey down probably took an hour and the journey back an hour and a half. We were rewarded with a round of clapping from the ladies and kids as we staggered across the ridge and into the carpark

On Thursday 24th  the rest of the party minus me, Sharon and the three youngest went "Tubing" on the Margaree River.

Sharon and I drove into Port Hawkesbury with the kids to shop and on our return Sharon prepared a spag bol for the evening meal. It was very gratefully received!

Friday was (for the most part) a warm and sunny day and so we went to Inverness beach for the day. [Nearly every village and small town (there are no large ones except for the capital, Sydney on the east coast) in Cape Breton is named after a Scottish town; the exceptions are named after French places.]

Tom and Nina flew in from Maryland that evening but stayed overnight in Halifax due to their very late arrival (Tom is my American friend whom I met in 1985 when I picked him up hitchhiking on my return from my abortive  first post university job at a sailing school in Brighton).

On Saturday we drove to Baddeck and visited the very impressive Alexander Graham Bell Museum. I have written about my first visit there earlier in the summer in a previous post. The family were just as impressed as I was then.

Then we met up with Tom and Nina for lunch at the Freight Shed on the pretty water front. 

By fortunate coincidence, SV Chelsea with Iain and Susan on board was moored up on the quay and we therefore invaded Chelsea and her crew on mass after lunch. It was great to catch up with them again and Sharon and the family were delighted to meet some of my super friendly Canadian sailing buddies. Iain was waiting for a suitable weather window to get to Newfoundland.

Just after Vince settled the lunch bill, the restaurant suffered a power cut, which it transpired took out about one third of Cape Breton. As a consequence Tom and Nina's visit to the Museum couldn't go ahead. A great shame because he would have loved it.

Instead we headed for the nearby Iona museum village - the site of the first settlement in Cape Breton founded by Scottish emigrants in the 18th Century. We knew the exhibits would be closed by the time we got there but I assumed we would be able to walk around the village like I was able to walk around the similar museum village at Sherbrook last summer. However, we found it cordoned off and so had to make do with admiring the view while the kids played in the sunshine.

Back at the house that evening Charles lit another campfire and we had hot dogs for supper!

Sunday was another lovely summer day and we drove to an old gypsum mine now flooded to create a pleasant fresh water swim spot. The trail from the carpark along a disused railway track that originally connected the mine with Inverness Harbour a few miles away, was about 3k and fairly flat so I was able to traverse it (slowly) without difficulty. Charles had also brought the three Kayaks (his own inflatable and two plastic ones that were provided as part of the house rental). 

Charles and Co. carried these along the trail and soon great fun was being had in them. There was no risk of a capsize from wave action on what was now a small and very sheltered lake and so after a while I decided to join in the fun and with Charles' help clambered into one of the Kayaks and paddled around.

After a while the more daring members of the group headed across the lake to the cliffs on the opposite side where a couple of ledges at about 10 and 15 feet up had clearly been in use as jump-off spots. Eventually even Ines and Despina were launching themselves off the cliff into the water below. I confess to being rather anxious whilst the girls were jumping because it was necessary for the jumpers to launch themselves outwards a fair distance from the rock face in order to avoid a submerged ledge at the foot of the cliff. 

The gung-ho boys had no trouble clearing it but I was worried that the more hesitant girls might not propel themselves far enough out. In the event everyone got through their jumps without mishap and I was able to relax.

Monday was a fairly lazy day. Tom and Nina managed to get out reasonably early to undertake a guided Celtic Music walk along the nearby coastal trail. They turned out to be the only participants and so received 100% of their guide's attention who also serenaded them along the way.

A little later the rest of the party minus me, Sharon and George set out to undertake a 6k walk to the Celtic Music Centre. Later still, Sharon and I drove to the Centre to meet the others for lunch and live music.

The music, was "old Scottish" so named because the Scottish Catholics who emigrated to Cape Breton during the reformation rather than face persecution at home, took their music with them. Over  subsequent years Scotland's music style evolved into the Square Dancing music still played widely today. The Scots descendants in Cape Breton however continued to play the tunes of 'Old Scotland' and this style of music thrived until the new wave of popular music flooded through North America and the UK in the 1960s. As a consequence Old Scottish music in Cape Breton almost disappeared from Cape Breton culture. Fortunately, however, a few die-hard enthusiasts engineered a renaissance and old Scottish music is now as popular as ever in Cape Breton. Indeed, musicians here are now playing an important role in reintroducing the music to Scotland. Our lunch venue - 'The Judique Celtic Music Interpretive Centre' was packed out with locals and tourists alike and it was only a Monday!

That evening we watched the sunset on Port Hood's Sunset Beach.

Our last full day, Tuesday was one of the highlights of the holiday - a whale watching boat trip from Pleasant Bay Harbour on the extreme north west coast of Cape Breton. It was a 2.5 hour drive but worth every mile (not that I had to drive). It turns out that the coast in those parts is a breeding ground for north Atlantic long finned Pilot Whales and as a consequence we saw scores of them including some babies. 

It was a great way to sign off the holiday especially for the first timers and the kids. It was quite a windy day and the sea was fairly choppy as a result which ensured a lively boat movement with plenty of spray.

The kids thought it all great fun with the "Oohs" and "Aahs" of whale sightings interspersed with shrieks of laughter as they were doused with another dose of spray as the boat rolled and plunged into the waves!

The journey 'home' was interrupted by a stop for fried chicken and ice cream and then it was back to the house to clear up and pack for the following day's journeys.

George and I will get a lift to Halifax with Tom and Nina whose first stage flight leaves there an hour after our 1230 flight to St Pierre. The rest of the gang don't fly out until the evening but they have to be out of the house by 10 a.m.. At least that means they will be able to look around Halifax town before they fly home.