Approaching Cape Sable: 09 Jul - Fog and More Fog, Still Sailing

Friday dawned (I'm almost sure there was one but it was not at all visible) with good sailing conditions but little opportunity to observe them first hand. We were finally captives of the legendary Canadian Maritime weather: a cold damp fog had lodged itself somewhere in our bone marrow and was setting up camp. The 0910 log entry reads: "Fog all day since first light, vis ~ 100 yds at best."

Still we were holding the desired course and speed. All that was missing was a hot meal, so I conjured up the "Six Egg Non-Omelet" solution. This breakfast was my first hot meal since leaving Hull. While I'd been eating enough to stave off anorexia, I hadn't been able to settle into a seagoing routine for the first day and a half or so. It's always this way offshore initially so I endure. Now I was past that stage and into the routine.

By 0945 we'd sailed 200 NM from Hull and had 80 NM remaining to Shelburne, with the log proclaiming we were "making good time." Visibility was essentially zero so with little else to do I shifted into culinary mode and started cooking anything within reach. The day's run at 1330 was equal to Day One - another 110 NM. However we'd now sailed into calm winds and seas and continued on with the Volvo just ticking over. Shortly we were back sailing once again. This cycle was repeated several times.

It's often true that sailing saves the best surprises for last few miles, and this leg was no exception. At 1630 while approaching Cape Sable, the southwest tip of Nova Scotia, we found ourselves doing battle with an opposing current (sailors call it a "head tide") of more than 2.5 knots. This meant no matter how well we sailed, we could make only slow forward progress. There is really no solution to this issue on a leg of this length. One soldiers on. The consoling factor was that we had plenty of time to kill and slowing down would help avoid too early a landfall. Daylight often means safety, even if one can't see it. Then the weather gods showed their hole cards and we discovered we'd been dealt rain squalls and gusty conditions. We got a taste of everything except good visibility. The radar showed multiple targets who did not come up on VHF, probably because they were fishermen working their nets and traps. Then on radar I picked up the RACON on Cape Sable light. This "signature" indicated with absolute authority that we really did know where we were, or more importantly where we weren't.

Just before midnight I handed the Genoa and engaged the Volvo. The wind was directly astern so I used the double-reefed main and a bit of engine to keep us going in the right direction. The reason for this tactic was that strong tide rips around Cape Sable produce a bumpy and dangerous ride and there wasn't sufficient wind to rely entirely on the sails and still avoid difficulty. We tried several combinations of sail trim, engine speed, wind angle, etc., and bounced along until finally we reached smoother water off Cape Negro near the mouth of Shelburne Harbor.

We were now officially in Nova Scotia waters and quite close to our goal as we began our last day offshore.