Baddeck, Nova Scotia to Saint Pierre and Miquelon, France

On Thursday, July 17, we left beautiful Baddeck and its gorgeous weather this morning, passing north through the Great Bras d'Or Channel, entering the open sea, and crossing the mouth of the Gulf of St. Lawrence to reach the French Territorial Collectivity of Saint Pierre and Miquelon. We are now on a mooring ball off the town of Saint Pierre, where we easily and promptly cleared in with Customs and Immigration at the government dock. 

When we raised the anchor in Baddeck Bay, dressed in shorts and t-shirts, shortly before 11 a.m., yesterday, the sun was shining and the water was glistening, leaving behind a place that we would have liked to spend more time exploring. Peter said that, had he known how beautiful the Bras d'Or Lake is, he might have chosen to only go this far this summer. He also said he might be tempted to move here if things become more crazy in the States. But we are continuing on our expedition to the north, with me having some trepidation.

But, there is still another full and fun day in Baddeck to write about. Enis had to work all day, so, after taking the SUP to town for an early morning coffee, he stayed aboard, where I left him in charge of another three loads of laundry. (It's a small capacity washing machine.) Peter and I took the dinghy to town around 10 a.m. Our first stop was the museum at the Alexander Graham Bell National Historic Site of Canada. For almost anyone, when his name is mentioned, the first word that comes to mind is "telephone," but he was involved in so much more and did not consider the invention of the telephone as his greatest accomplishment. Rather, he was most proud of his work with and on behalf of the deaf. Both his paternal grandfather and father were significant contributors to the understanding of and teaching methods for deaf persons, and Bell's first career, at which he was quite successful, was in teaching deaf persons to speak.

Bell first visited Baddeck in 1885 with his wife Mabel and fell in love with the surroundings. It reminded him of Scotland, his place of birth and childhood. He returned the following year, bought land, and began to build Beinn Bhreagh. The family visited the estate from about 1888 until his death from diabetes in 1922, initially only in the summer and then later often year-round. Both he and Mabel are buried there. The home itself, visible on Red Head across Baddeck Bay from the town, is not open to the public as it is owned and occupied by one of his descendants. 

Beinn Bhreagh

At the estate, Bell built a laboratory and boatyard, conducting many experiments in powered flight and hydrofoil technology, and explored other areas of scientific interest, such as sheep breeding. Some of his most notable accomplishments at Beinn Bhreagh included the first manned flight of an airplane in the British Commonwealth by the AEA Silver Dart in 1909, plus the HD-4, a hydrofoil boat invented by Frederick Walker Baldwin and Bell. Designed as a submarine chaser and powered by aircraft engines, their vessel set a world watercraft speed record of 114 km/h (71 mph) in 1919, which remained unbroken for many years.

Many of his blueprints, drafts and models are on display at the museum as well as reconstructions of some of his aircraft and watercraft. In addition, the museum does an excellent job of giving a sense of the type of man he was--curious, passionate, family-loving--through timelines, photographs, quotes and letters between him and his beloved wife and also with his collaborators. 

As we were finishing up at the museum, we received a text from Enis saying the washing machine did not seem to be working. Since it was just a five minute ride out, we took the dinghy out to the boat and figured out the problem.

Then we went back to town for errands. We stopped at the Baddeck Yacht Club first, where we talked with a couple employees about our need to find a windsurfing mast to use an iceberg pole as well a person interested in taking our two unused and unneeded kayak seats for free. What luck! They had a pole they had no use for and one of the instructors was a kayaker. We took the mast to the dinghy dock, promising to return later with the seats, and then set off on our errands. Peter detoured to the marine store while I started walking directly to the supermarket, taking a slight detour into the town library. I cannot resist libraries because they give such a sense of the community. This one has used books for sale outside and in the foyer. Before the entrance to the main part of the library, there is a shelf with food with a sign saying, "Take what you need, give what you can." The library itself offers not only an abundance of books and computers and other items normally found in such an institution, but also loaner cross country skis!

The cheerful Baddeck library

The supermarket was large and well-stocked and we easily found everything on our list. Shopping in Canada with U.S. currency is a deal right now as the Canadian dollar is worth 75 cents to the U.S. dollar.

At the dinghy dock, we loaded up the groceries and the long, sturdy mast, and returned to Mantra. After lunch, we conducted our plan launch of our old life raft, which we had kept to practice deployment and boarding and to become familiar with the items stocked in a life raft, which include packs of water, MREs, oars, a medical kit, sea-sickness pills, water collection mechanisms and many other survival items. After a few minutes sitting inside the life raft going through the kits, Peter decided that the first thing that should be done after getting everyone aboard is to take the sea-sickness pills because the craft feels like a bouncy house, even in calm water. 

Peter in the water with the four-person life raft

The water in the bay was warm. Enis relaxed on top of the SUP, while I hung out in the water and Peter swam under the stern to check the prop. Peter and I took showers, and then we all dinghied the short distance to Kidston Island to hike. We were the only ones there. First we went to the point with the Kidston Island Lighthouse and then we began walking around the perimeter of the island, but mostly through the woods. The predominant vegetation consists of balsam firs, paper bark maples and hay-scented ferns, punctuated with occasional splashes of color in the form of flowers or berries. The quiet and the sweet fragrance of the firs were delightful.

Kidston Island Lighthouse

Common haircap (Polytricum commune), one of the largest moss species

Blue bead lily (Clintonia borealis)

Peter and Enis, Kidston Island hike among balsam firs and other trees

Hay-scented ferns, paper bark maples, and balsam firs

We returned to Mantra just to pick up the life raft to tow to the yacht club, where we hoped we could persuade them to take it if only to allow the kids to get a chance to see one. Towing it was more of a challenge than we anticipated. With its water-ballast pockets and its design not intended to run smoothly through water, the little dinghy engine had to put all its might into getting to the dock. As I was looking for someone to ask about donating it or disposing of it, the bartender for the yacht club called out to us from the second level deck and asked if we had accidentally deployed it. He then said that the sailing school would love to have it--which was just what we were hoping--and advised us where to stow it. 

Enis and Peter setting up the life raft to tow

Towing the life raft

Then we went upstairs for a drink and conversation about Baddeck with the bartender, who recommended the restaurant behind the yacht club for dinner. We had an excellent meal followed by homemade blueberry pie (made from the waitress's grandmother's recipe) before returning to the boat for the night.

Yes, Enis did take a shower that day also, as the sunlight was fading. 

And then the next morning, we left this charming village with its friendly and helpful vibe, knowing from the weather forecast that we would also be leaving a brief experience of summer.

The gently sloping, rounded green hillsides on both side of the channel contrasted with the sun-sparkling water was left behind and we could see the fog on the eastern horizon as we entered the Gulf of St. Lawrence. 

Great Bras d'Or Channel

It was not long before we were adding layers of clothing and those on deck were wearing full foulie gear as we traveled at 8-10 knots the rest of the day, through the night and until we reached St. Pierre harbour, mostly on a beam reach with 20-25 knots of south wind and 6-10 foot waves at short intervals on the beam in dense fog. Most of the time, visibility was less than a couple boat lengths. 

It was fast but not particularly comfortable sailing. Before we reefed the sails, Peter and Enis took turns hand steering as the autopilot was getting overwhelmed, and they seemed to find this exciting. Despite my antipathy for night sailing, particularly in dampness and fog, I offered to take night watch twice but was turned down even though I could handle the boat's movement. Unfortunately for Enis, it was a bit much for him, and he was sick overboard in the night. 

Peter enjoying steering Mantra at 10 knots

Enis steering

Enjoying the last of the sunshine as the waves break off starboard

What I hate about sailing in what I consider adverse conditions is not being able to do anything except maybe listening to music or an audiobook, which can get old. I can't read, do puzzles, play games with others on board, color, cook or bake, or even clean (which, yes, I actually enjoy doing). In the vastness of unoccupied time, I think about whether our kids know how to arrange to transport our dead bodies home and that we own burial plots next to Naomi's. Pretty morbid.