 We woke up to a beautiful sunny morning. The wind was still blowing, but not nearly as hard as had been predicted. Several of the local sailors in the marina were tying their boats up more securely in anticipation of a big blow later in the day. One neighbor advised us about how the wind would come in to the marina during a big blow and offered some suggestions as to how we could make Ananda more secure in her berth. We followed the fellow’s advice and added more lines. |
 I went up to the marina office and arranged for us to stay another day. We were disappointed that we would not make any further progress down river but better to be safe than sorry. As the day progressed the weather got better and better. By mid afternoon it was becoming very obvious that this area was not going to be hit by a storm and that we would have been fine if we left first thing in the morning. Oh well, that’s the way things go sometimes. Besides, another day in port gave me an opportunity to catch up on writing my blog. |
Monthly Archives: August 2010
Saturday, August 7
 We began preparing to leave our anchorage in Gros-Cacouna at 5:00am and were heading for Matane. The sunrise was beautiful and shortly after we left the basin we could see the entrance to the Saguenay River (on the north shore) off our port side & a cruise ship headed towards it. Joan spotted a whale about 6:15am. |
 We were travelling relatively smoothly until about 9:00am and then the river started to become rougher because the wind was building strongly at our back and it was affecting the incoming tide. The swells gradually became larger and closer together. This resulted in our stern constantly being pushed from side to side. By 10:00am the wind was consistently over 20 knots and the autohelm could no longer manage to hold us on course so Chris took over the helm while Joan and I went about the boat making sure that anything loose was tucked away before it could be tossed across one of the cabins. We were in no danger of being broached but the ride was most certainly uncomfortable and the marine weather forecast offered little or no hope for improvement. We were not far away from the city of Rimouski so we set our course for the public marina there—disappointed that we would not achieve the distance we had planned for the day, but looking forward to being tied to a dock so we would not have to hang on to anything every time we took a step. |
 We arrived in the marina at noon, filled up our diesel fuel tank and headed to our assigned docking space. The marina office is designed like many others—with offices, bathrooms and laundrymat on the ground level and a restaurant and bar on the 2nd level. Our next mission was clear—as soon as we were satisfied that the boat was secure we made a beeline for the restaurant for a hot lunch and some cold beers. As Joan so aptly put it “I’m so dry I could spit dust!”. |
 After a refreshing cold drink and an excellent lunch we declared ourselves fully recovered from our little ordeal on the water. Now we would take advantage of the time we had and tend to a variety of chores such as laundry, showers, groceries and some general exploring. |
 All afternoon the wind continued to blow hard and we saw many boats come in to the marina seeking some shelter and rest—just as we did. We would try to reach Matane again tomorrow but the marine weather forecast did not sound promising—wind gusts up to 50 knots. |
Friday, August 6
 We got up at 6:00am and began preparing to leave our marina in Cap-a-l’Aigle. No fog in sight, it should be a great day to head out. The marine weather radio was broadcasting some wind warnings but they did not exceed 25 knots and we felt that we should give it a try. I turned the key to start the engine and the starter would not engage the engine’s flywheel but it just kept running. OK, what’s going on here? I popped the engine hatch and took a look below, inspecting wire connections, etc. |
| Chris dug out Don Casey’s Sailboat Maintenance book (the sailor’s bible) and I opened up the Ford Lehman diesel engine manual. No information on stuck solenoids so it’s time to break out the tool-box and start tearing things apart. |
| Years ago I owned a 1962 Ford Falcon and every once in a while the starter on that car would get stuck. A mechanic at the gas station where I worked showed me that the first thing you should try in a situation like that is to lightly tap the starter with a hammer or wrench—just in case the solenoid is stuck. It worked on the Falcon so why not try it on the Ford Lehman diesel? Out comes the hammer, a few taps in the right spots and VOILA—she starts! Wow, how lucky is that? I must have a horseshoe somewhere on my person (you figure out the rest J). Now I’m thinking “I spent all that money on tools, when all I really need is a hammer”. Hey my master mechanic son Steve, is the hammer your favorite tool too? (f.y.i. – my son Steve is a licensed automotive and diesel engine mechanic) |
 Anyway, engine starter problems behind us (for good, I hope) we leave our slip in the marina and head towards the river. We set our course on Tiki Navigation for Rimouski, Quebec and start down the river. Things are going pretty smoothly, Chris is on the helm and Joan is on watch too, so I decide that if this is my lucky day, then perhaps I can get the radar working too. I was still “smarting” from the thought of having to spend about $2,000 on a new radar unit so I was determined to try everything I could to get the thing working again. I had read the owner’s manual from cover to cover the night before and managed to understand that the tiny coaxial cable from the radar’s broadcasting unit was key to carrying the signal down to the display in the pilot house. I traced the wires in the junction box and found a tiny broken wire—and this wire is not much bigger than a few strands of hair so it’s easy as pie to miss. I cleaned up the connection, hooked up the wire and, once again VOILA—the radar, she works! Yahoo! With this kind of luck today I should be looking for a convenience store that sells lottery tickets :). |
 We celebrate our success with high-fives all around and I promise to buy the drinks tonight—after all, I have an extra two grand now! We continued on our course to Rimouski but the wind is building, coming straight at us and the tide is coming up the St. Lawrence. The result is that we are encountering lots of waves and the boat is in heavy spray all the time. We are dry and cosy inside the pilot house and, travelling at 7.5 knots, making reasonable progress (I love this boat!) but none of us are interested in bashing through this stuff for another 10 hours. |
 We decide to try and find a quiet place along the shore to stop for a while and see if the wind drops off. The little community of Gros-Cacouna is off our starboard bow and it has a large manmade and very well protected basin for the freighters that come to that harbour. We duck inside the basin and the rocky ride is gone. There are no freighters in the basin so we drop our anchor and decide to spend an hour or two there to see if the wind drops off. It’s also a good time for lunch and to spend a bit of focused time listening to the marine weather forecast. Joan once again works her magic in the galley and we have a great lunch to energize the crew. After lunch the wind speed showing up on our anemometer has dropped off a bit so we decide to hoist our anchor and try heading down river again. We don’t get too far. As we approach the exit of the basin we can see that the river is “full of sheep” from shore to shore and that things have not changed much from when we first came in to the basin. We turn around and head back in to the basin, drop the hook once more and settle in for a few more hours. However, the forecast on the marine weather radio is not encouraging. Gale warnings are being issued for the area and we certainly do not want to be bashing around in a gale because our next point on the refuge on the river is 30-40 miles away. All we can do is sit and wait. |
 We wait another two hours and it is obvious that things are not improving on the river. We are securely anchored in the basin and it is a perfect place to hide out from the weather. This is a commercial harbour so pleasure craft are not usually welcome to come in and tie up to the docks or anchor unless the weather is too nasty for safe passage. The St. Lawrence River cruising guidebook that we are often referencing gives a phone number for the Harbourmaster so I tried to telephone him to seek permission to stay for the night. Voice mail is the only response I get so I leave a message describing our situation and our desire to remain for the night. We also leave our marine radio on the standard hailing channel (16) so we can hear them calling if they want to reach us. After several hours the radio is still silent and the lights inside buildings on the shore go out. Clearly the majority of workers have headed home for the day & it seems they don’t have a problem with us being there, so we settle in for the night too. Merci-beaucoup Gros-Cacouna commercial harbour—we are grateful for your kind hospitality and shelter from the rough river on the other side of the breakwater. |
Thursday, August 5
 We were greeted by a very foggy morning. It was pretty obvious that we were not going anywhere today. Off in the distance we could hear a freighter going by, occasionally blowing its fog horn. This is not the kind of traffic we want to be messing with blindly—even with radar. |
 Fog is no fun to be in at any time—whether you are in a car or on a boat. Better to stay put and be safe—especially when you have the choice! |
| While we were disappointed that we could not proceed with our trip, we decided to take advantage of our situation and catch up on some other chores. I changed the oil and filter for the engine—the first time since I left Goderich on June 19. I have been tracking the engine hours closely, keeping the oil topped up, etc. Oil changes for this engine are recommended every 200 hours and our arrival in Cap-a-l’Aigle marked about 210 hours on the engine, so the time was right for this maintenance. |
| Once the oil change was completed we decided to stow the dingy away inside Ananda for a few days. We have not used it since we left Montreal and while it is convenient to have on the davits it is also a bit of a pain in rough weather because the side to side motion of the boat makes the dingy want to swing like a pendulum on the davits. |
| After a few weeks of hauling the dingy around I have learned quite a bit about what it takes to manage it on the davits. I have tried several approaches to binding it up and have arrived at a workable solution but it is a clumsy arrangement and does not provide me with full confidence that the dingy will behave itself in really rough seas. Chris figured out a way to safely stow the outboard on the dingy davit arm and I agreed to take in a new roommate in the forward v-berth. She doesn’t snore or complain about my snoring so I am happy to have the company. I also prefer to have the dingy inside as stowing it on the deck clutters things up and takes away some of the nicest spots on the bow for relaxing and sight-seeing. |
| With the dingy tucked away my next challenge was to see if we can get the radar working. It was working fine last year but now it would not produce any images from the radar scanning sweeps. The display unit was fine, and all of the adjustments are working but no images. Perhaps the rotating sweeper unit is stuck inside the radar dome that is mounted on the mizzen mast. This unit is too high to reach from the deck of the boat and I am not interested in having anyone use the mizzen sail halyard to hoist up in the bosun’s chair. |
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This halyard handles a pretty small sail and I don’t want myself or anyone else to attempt a lift up using it—it’s just not worth the risk. A couple of summers ago in the Goderich Marina we witnessed a person falling from their main mast because they did not use their bosun’s chair properly and their halyard line failed. That person is very lucky to be alive today and not horribly crippled from such a fall.
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 I attempted in my best French to ask the marina manager if he had a ladder that I could borrow but it was clear that he did not understand my request. Joan went on a mission to try and find a ladder and with her charms, she returned a few minutes later with a 10-foot aluminum extension ladder–the perfect solution to our problem! With the ladder securely in place, up the ladder I go and begin to remove the radar dome cover. Once the cover is off we start up the radar unit and the sweeper is rotating as it should but still no images show up on the screen. After checking out all of the connections we conclude that there is nothing mechanically wrong with it so the cover goes back on and we move to plan B (whatever that is). The user’s manual is pretty plainly written but it still does not tell us much about trouble-shooting. After a few hours to fiddling and tweaking and telephone calls to the manufacturer, we admit defeat for the day and decide to try to drown our disappointment in canned suds and other libations. |
 The sun is now out strongly and it has burned off all of the fog. It’s tempting to reverse our “no-go” decision but we decide that it’s best to stay put for another day, rest up and then try to make up some lost distance the next day. While exploring the marina Chris and Joan find two more Nauticats tied up. One is a 36’ very similar to Ananda and the other is a 38’. Both are in great shape and I am amazed that we find two of Ananda’s cousins in such a small marina. |
 Sadly, neither of the owners are around so I don’t have a chance to say hello and introduce myself. I leave an Ananda boat card on each boat with my “tres biens” compliments to their beautiful boats. Of course, I do have a bias and a great big soft spot for Nauticats. The marina has a small restaurant above the office so we decide to go out on the town for a night and dine there. We had a great meal with a very nice French-Quebec ambiance. Time for bed—a new day awaits! |
Wednesday, August 4
 We were preparing to leave Quebec before noon. Breakfast was a special treat. We walked over to the “edge” of the old city and had coffee and croissants in a great little restaurant/bar that was clearly a favorite spot of locals and tourists like us. |
 After breakfast I wanted to make a quick trip to the local boating supply store, which was on the same property as the marina. I was walking past the boat ramp and saw a vehicle pulling a small boat out of the water on its trailer. At first this sight meant little to me until I took a closer look at the boat and saw its name on the side. “Navasana”. This was the boat that Catherine and I owned before we bought our Nauticat! I could not believe my eyes. I had sold her to a man from Montreal named Real Dussault. Real was pulling away from the boat ramp and his wife was sitting in the back of the boat until they got to a nearby parking spot where they could continue their preparations for towing the boat on the road. |
| Once Real stopped the vehicle I ran up to him and vigorously shook his hand. He was puzzled at first why I was so excited and then he recognized me. “What are you doing here?” he asked. I quickly explained Ananda’s cruise and why we were in Quebec City, etc. He explained to me that he and his wife had just spent 10 days sailing in the Quebec City area and were just now preparing to head back to Montreal. We both agreed that it was an amazing coincidence that our paths had crossed like this. Another couple of minutes either way and we would have missed each other. Sometimes the world can indeed be a very small place. |
 We left Quebec City and headed down river—destination to be determined. The weather through most of the day was sunny with scattered clouds. We had planned to travel quite a distance that day and seek out a nice anchorage, however the weather began to take a turn for the worse and scattered clouds began to morph in to scattered showers and squalls. |
 We went through a couple of squalls and the weather was threatening to deteriorate even further so we decided to abandon our plan of anchoring and head for a marina instead. |
 As sunset was approaching we went through another small squall and then saw fog starting to gather on the river. The small town of Cap-a-l’Aigle was just an hour away and it had a marina so that was to be our destination for the night—and a welcome one it was! |
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