Exploring Coral Reefs at Norman Island

     It's strange to sink back into a routine while living such a transient lifestyle. But the day that our visitors headed home things began to feel "back to normal," though with the added bonus of now having Jamie with us. That day we sailed briefly to "The Indians" where the others snorkeled while Dad and I went diving. There is so much life beneath the water here that it's mind boggling to swim among it. Bright blue creole wrasse swarmed in schools, sparkling in beams of sunlight. Spotted goatfish combed the sandy bottom, probing with their whiskers, while black and yellow rock beauties darted among clumps of coral. Browns and beiges, purples and reds, fish and coral of all shapes and sizes surrounded us in a chaos of colour. Although we got a bit lost and confused and ended up surfacing near the busy mooring balls, every dive here presents some new colourful creature to marvel at.

     A short hop brought us back to Norman Island, completing a loop of the entire BVIs for the first time. Anchored in the busy bay called the Bight we settled down for a night of movie-watching and constant snacking. I'm not sure if it's the fact that I spend most days in the fresh air or am more active than back home, but I seem to be in a constant state of hunger since arriving here. Cookies do not last long on this boat, that's for sure.

     Wednesday, we snorkeled the caves at Norman Island, where it is commonly believed that a pirate- the island's namesake-once hid a treasure of Spanish gold. Entering the oval cavern of the southernmost cave it is easy to imagine piles of gold glimmering alongside the smooth colourful rocks and green, purple and orange walls that glint in the filtered light. In another cave that has walls spattered with orange cup coral a huge school of tiny silver fish moved as one, expanding and parting as a large grouper passed among them. A striped lizardfish snapped alert from the bottom to prey on the school's outer edges before settling back down convincingly camouflaged. Exploring the reef outside the caves we found a small sea turtle surfacing for gulps of air before trundling down to feed off a clump of coral. They seem to be able to hold their breath a long time.

     In the pulsing heat of the next day, a hike on the island took us past a low open restaurant with the word "Pirates" written in bold white letters on the red roof. Jamie waited to start his scuba diving lessons on the porch of the dive shack for Sail Caribbean Divers at Norman Island, which has dive gear tacked haphazard on its walls and doors. While Jamie began his solo lessons with his friendly dread locked Scottish instructor, Mom, Sarah and I plodded along a muddy red trail-like road to take in the view from a nearby hill. As we hiked upwards on questionable footing, small brown lizards skittered off into the tangling green underbrush. The top of the old road overlooked the Bight, a busy anchorage for charters on their first days out due to its proximity to Tortola, which lies just across the Sir Francis Drake Channel.

     Jamie continued to excel in his dive lessons on Friday while the rest of us set off to nearby dive sites. Sarah and I explored the "Sandy Ledges" in Privateer Bay. Mom and Dad navigated "Kelly's Cove" near Water Point. After returning to the boat to retrieve our forgotten weight belts, Sarah and I tied to a mooring in Privateer Bay and descended to a disorienting bottom covered in turtle grass. Following our compasses we eventually found the long reef ledge and swam a slow, comfortable pace, watching fish in their aquatic playground. It's amazing how at first on a dive you can be completely overwhelmed by all there is to see, shimmering scales grabbing your attention every few seconds, but when you settle down and focus on one patch of reef, one coral, one fish, you notice so much more that wasn't obvious at first glance. In any section of a reef you can watch a creature reveal a telling detail about its once-elusive character: a fish with a piece of coral in its mouth, a sea mollusk with a spotted pattern latched onto a soft coral, a juvenile filefish circling a rock with near-transparent fins swirling like the tiniest fan.

     A reef really is the most diverse and magical place imaginable, each crack and crevice of rock positively crammed with life. You could come back to these sites again and again and see something new every single time. On every dive, as I observe the creatures around me and make sure to leave the reef completely untouched, I feel incredibly privileged to have this opportunity to explore such intriguing places. It's obvious that this is an exhilarating sport when we all return from each dive eager to share what we saw with each other and ready to plan out the next day's dive.

     Today we continued diving and switched locations. Sarah and I explored "Kelly's Cove" with Jamie snorkeling at the surface following our meandering bubbles, and later in the day Mom and Dad discovered a nurse shark and an impossibly large crab hiding beneath the rocks of the "Sandy Ledges." That makes our second nurse shark sighting, the first being caught on Brooke's camera while snorkeling on a reef in Eustatia Sound.

     Tomorrow we will explore a site called Angelfish Reef at the edge of Privateer Bay while Jamie completes his first day of open water dives. Unfortunately there's no internet here, so pictures will have to wait.

All the best,
Nicole.
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Block Island to Delaware Bay to Annapolis, Maryland

     It`s a long one! It`s been a while since I`ve had the chance to really sit down and recount the previous days. While out on the water writing often seems unthinkable. So now that we`re at a nice, calm dock I will give it my best effort. Hope you enjoy!

     I’ll begin with the night of October 4^th. The roaring wind outside our safe anchorage made Mom anxious as we prepared for a night passage. With input from the rest of us we decided to look into the option of leaving the next morning. I had a bad feeling in my gut and have learned to listen to this feeling over the past few years...it usually means trouble. So I was relieved after Dad talked to Patrice over the radio and they decided on a 6 am departure. It’s a good thing we left the next morning, because despite the delay we entered Delaware Bay on Thursday October 6^th as originally planned and did it with only a one night passage instead of two!

     Back to the passage itself; Leaving Block Island through the narrow bay entrance we encountered large waves and a 20 plus knot wind. The waves weren’t as big as I’d pictured on hearing them from inside but still uncomfortable. The day was long and tiring, spent with muscles tensed against the constant pitching of the boat. Sarah got sick early and Mom felt the effects throughout the day and night. I ate little but crackers, a soft apple and some pudding all day. As night approached we were set on a downwind path and the side-to-side rocking set in. It’s hard to sleep in this. I tried to brace myself between cushions but ended up with my head flopping around anyways. The only solution is to give in and just flop all night hoping that sleep will come despite the discomfort.

     While on a sunset watch Mom and I had birds landing on the deck around us. First a small one like the one we saw outside Halifax landed on the wheel in front of me then flew down the companionway to check out below, leaving a small “gift” on a sleeping bag before Sarah coaxed it out. A second larger bird chose us as its ride for the night perching on the dodger and fluffing up before settling to sleep right beside the stairs. After dark it was hardly disturbed at all as we passed only inches away going down below and coming up to change watches. In the morning it took flight in the opposite direction as us and we hoped it wasn’t too far off course from its destination.  Mom looked it up online and it turned out to be a Northern Flicker, a type of woodpecker that lives all over North America and migrates south for the winter. None of us can recall ever reading about birds acting like this on ocean passages, but it must be pretty common. They would after all need somewhere to rest if they find themselves out over the ocean.

A quick snapshot of the Northern Flicker

     The waves seemed huge in the moonlight that night as they rolled up behind and then under us. I decided early on that looking back was a bad idea because they just seemed to loom over my head in a scary way. Some of the larger waves caused us to surf forward with them. One even propelled us up to 15 knots−not an easy feat for our sailboat! Thursday the sun shone as we left the tiring swell behind for Delaware Bay. There were a few good dolphin sightings that morning, including one just ten feet off the starboard side! These ones are bigger than the dolphins further north and had a lighter gray colouring.

     Thursday night was spent at a peaceful anchorage with more sailboats that we’ve seen in weeks. Everyone seemed to be converging on the Boat Show in Annapolis. Friday we traversed the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal and saw many bridges, a passing barge, other sailboats and a large yacht with a light blue paint job and matching “dinghy” with three outboard motors. Sitting on the deck watching for crab pots in Chesapeake Bay I noticed how salt has coated everything. The deck is covered. Running a hand over the newly inflated dinghy it comes away covered in white salt that is partly powdery and partly in small crystals. This is such a new experience for people who are used to fresh water lakes and rivers.

A yacht on the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal

     We managed to find slips at Chesapeake Harbour Marina for two nights. It turned out to be a beautiful marina with nice facilities including a pool, tennis courts and a long stretch of beach with fishing piers. Surrounded by condos the docks are so tucked in that it must be the perfect hurricane hole. The docks are shorter than the boat is long and several feet off the end are large wooden pilings where you`re supposed to loop a stern line as you come in. The slips are so tight and with our bow thruster not working we had to back up and go forward several times then push off the pilings and the neighbouring boat to manoeuvre in safely. Back home at Collin’s Bay we are among the largest boats; here we seem among the smallest.

     Today we caught the marina shuttle to downtown Annapolis for the boat show. Although the morning was cool the day heated and the gorgeous sun beat down all day long. Tonight we’re all sunburned. It hasn’t been strong in so long that sunscreen never even crossed our minds! Downtown the buildings are a combination of old school brick and bright nautical siding. A city with a history dating back to the 1700s, Annapolis is very picturesque, has a large presence of uniform-clad students from the Naval Academy, and is dominated by the largest number of boats I’ve ever seen. A local travel magazine claims that the narrow Spa Creek, which leads from Chesapeake Bay straight into downtown Annapolis, “is to boats what Route 66 is to classic cars.” It seems to be the boating capital of the world!

     The boat show was packed with people and had endless booths advertising everything nautical. We found everything from boat loans to rope making displays to charters in the BVIs to a booth selling bags made from reused sail material. After so many days not seeing people it was overwhelming and sort of refreshing at the same time. We checked out many swanky, roomy boats including a huge spacious catamaran. Dad bought a wind generator since he’s tired of having to turn on the motor during passages to recharge the batteries. There were a ton of Canadians at the show and Mom and Dad even met up with two separate groups of friends from Collin’s Bay Marina!

Annapolis Sailboat Show

     This evening, with heavy legs and feeling scorched we snuck in a grocery restock session. It was well-needed since we last bought groceries in Halifax! But Mom managed to stock up so well then that we didn`t run out of meat until just last night. So kudos to Mom!

Until next time,

Nicole.

East Coast Sights

On Tuesday we left Gaspe with fresh cod, salmon and shrimp on board as well as a giant pile of provisions for the upcoming weeks. Dodging crab pots, we motored the length of the bay to turn south for Grand-Riviere. Looking off at the land on one side of the bay a bird suddenly plummeted, dropping with the blink of an eye straight into the water in a graceful dive. For the rest of the day we kept an eye out for these dive-bombing entertainers, which turned out to be gannets- white-feathered, golden-headed seabirds with black wing tips. Later in the day we rounded Perce Rock (according to our cruising guide one of Canada's most photographed natural features) and Ile Bonaventure where the gannets nest in huge numbers. Mom thought Perce Rock looked like a horse with its head in the water drinking from a fountain. Check it out from a certain angle, because it certainly does!

Perce Rock

Perce Rock

After dark Tuesday we pulled into Grand-Riviere. Sarah's log entry in this port tells all: "Docked at Grand-Riviere. Fishing marina-fish smell and fishing boats." It seems fitting that we had our first fish of the trip for dinner that night. Mom cooked delicious pan-fried cod with shrimp sautéed in butter, beans, potatoes and a Caesar salad. It was flavourful and my favourite meal so far! On a side note, despite traveling for two weeks we have been moving at such a quick pace that our only meal out occurred in Quebec City. Until Gaspe we didn't even get fresh fish, but we hope to enjoy a lot more in the coming days and weeks, especially since seafood is so readily available on the east coast.

The plan from Grande-Riviere was a night passage past Prince Edward Island to Nova Scotia at the entrance to the Strait of Canso. Leaving Grand-Riviere at 5 am Wednesday the waves instantly became like a washing machine, pitching and rolling the boat, making Sarah, Mom and I queasy for most of the morning. None of us could stand being below so we sat above in the fresh air chewing ginger gum to fend off the sickness. The worst thought for me was the idea that I couldn't just lie down and rest when I wanted to. It's tough when your home is capable of tilting at a twenty degree angle, pitching up and down, side to side. But that's just one of the hazards of living on a boat, where you are so susceptible to the elements. Luckily the waves gradually settled into steadier swell letting us rest and enjoy the warmer weather.

All the difficulties of the morning became even more distant when a pod of playful dolphins popped up behind the boat! Each of us jumped up and ran to the stern, mesmerized by their sleek, silent movements. Watching them surface and dart from side to side off the stern was like watching fireworks; each sighting was a special moment and left us feeling happy and lucky to be out there. The pod was large and disappeared underwater only to pop up in the distance jumping and leaping in the playful way that only dolphins can.

The night passage was uneventful and smooth with a clear starry sky and a moon shaped like an ice-cream scoop. Today we had more lovely weather and spotted more dolphins. This time they rushed straight at the bow to check out the boat. I don't think any of us will ever get tired of watching them play in the water-it's just too much fun! Today we arrived at an anchorage in Havre Boucher, Nova Scotia to spend the night before traveling the Strait of Canso tomorrow.

On another note, on Wednesday we passed the two-week mark for the trip. In some ways it feels like much longer, especially when you consider all the places we've seen already. But then the days start to blur in our minds and casting off from Collin's Bay doesn't seem so long ago. Traveling this way to get south has definitely given us the chance to practise our sailing skills and get used to longer passages. With each day we relax further into a routine on board. Thinking back to week one, there was a lot more nervous tension between us, especially when it came to all the quick navigational decisions and frequent docking in new places. But the mood onboard has calmed down and we're beginning to enjoy the sights brought with each new day!

Until next time,
Nicole.

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"Land's End"

Rounding the Forillon Peninsula into Gaspe Bay (aka "Land's End") today we sighted a lot of dolphins, a whale and seals basking in the sun. To help highlight the beautiful scenery of this region and because I don't have much to say today I will simply let the pictures do the talking this time!

Thanks to everyone who has commented on the blog so far, it is nice to know that people are reading it. If there's anything specific you want to hear about our travels just send us a message :)

Nicole. xo. 

Forillon National Park

Epic whale sighting!

Seal watching

Lighthouse on the Cap Gaspe peninsula

Whale Watch!

Today on our sail from Cap a L'Aigle to Tadoussac the air was cold, crisp and clear of mist. Shortly out of the marina I was completely overwhelmed with excitement when I spotted a whale! And not just any kind, but an endangered beluga. White and sleek it skimmed the surface of the water as it passed behind us. So awesome! My first reaction was a loud "Oh my gosh!" and of course Mom and Dad freaked out thinking something bad had happened. Throughout the morning we settled in at a nice sailing pace and kept spotting more belugas just along the edge of the waterway (sometimes mistaking whitecaps for them as the wind picked up).

Unfortunately a relaxed attitude never lasts long on a sailboat. Peace is fleeting. All of a sudden the wind came ripping down the hillsides, buffeting us, causing some intense heeling. At that point we lowered the main and sailed through the gusts under genoa for the rest of the day. To add some excitement to that, Mom yelled "Oh! Oh! Sea Lion!" as she glimpsed a seal right beside the boat as we neared Tadoussac.

Coming in to Tadoussac at the mouth of the Saguenay River around two o'clock we encountered some strange waves. The tide coming in and wind blowing out created choppy eddies and ripples along the surface. We also saw the water change from a nice sea green to an intense black as we neared the Saguenay. The water gets as deep as 400 feet just at the entrance to the river! The experience of pulling into the anchorage behind Club Nautique de Tadoussac allowed Dad to come up with the line: "Where should we anchor today? Oh, how about over there behind that whale." Our heads were spinning as we searched for a good spot and a whale surfaced about 30 feet in front of us! We're not sure what kind it was but it had a dark dorsal fin, so wasn't a beluga.

It's pretty cool to encounter these kinds of creatures already when we are only just nearing the ocean itself. So far tonight the wind is still howling and we have had to reset the anchor, so we're all looking forward to a good dinner and wrapping ourselves in lots of blankets for the night (it's cold today!).

Hoping everyone back home is well,
Nicole. xo. (Since we can't find internet to connect to tonight this post is going to my first sent to the blog through our marine SSB radio to a station in Lunenburg, NS, so hope it turns out ok!)
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