Pictures of Late Summer 2008

On a wet August day, one of many, this was the view looking out from our cabin. Water, water everywhere...











Taking a pogo stick to new heights at the Halifax Busker's Festival down on the waterfront.










Sometimes it takes a little help from the audience to keep things stable. These are the Aerial Angels, based in the U.S., performing at the Buskers Festival.











A testimony to the foolish ways of birds? Hopefully they're not thinking of nesting in the tyres on this tug...










Our new nesting dinghy takes its first trip on the water. It floats!













The ducks have been feeding and feasting on the rich growth on the poles and floats - and sometimes boats - in the marina.










A view from the porthole as the sun goes down behind the MacDonald Bridge.













Getting ready to move on again, with our new main hatch and doors in place, and our nesting dinghy strapped down in front.

August 2008, And The Rain Came

August was a wet month. Even the weather experts agreed it was the wettest August in many years. So wet that farmers lost crops and outside workers lost time and we had many delays in the work we had planned to do on the boat. Between rain and fog the damp seemed to get in and linger everywhere, and we dried the boat out every opportunity that offered. But there were good days sprinkled through the wet ones.

There was Natal Day. Festivities began on Thursday July 31 and were supposed to continue through a four day weekend. On August 1st we enjoyed the Joel Plaskett Emergency from the boat, and looked forward to the activities scheduled for the rest of the weekend. But then rain shortened the talent show and dampened the festivities that was scheduled for Alderney Landing. That evening the fog descended before the fireworks could rise, and the weather remained damp and foggy for the next few days. Which meant that we missed the fireworks from the bridge for the second year in a row. Maybe next year? In the intervals between rainy weather people enjoyed activities on the Macdonald Bridge, runners of all ages completed the Natal Day road race, and we glimpsed the Natal Day Parade as it too crossed the bridge. The weekend was like the month - wet - and people did as they usually do - enjoyed what they could, in spite of the weather.

The weather was a little better for the Halifax Buskers Festival, and we went across on the ferry to check things out there one relatively sunny day. Areas were set up along the waterfront with “stages” and in some places areas for people to sit and watch, and there were musicians and booths and lots of people wandering along the harbour front, gazing at visiting ships and boats as well as at the performers . We paused by a didgeridoo player and stopped to watch a young man performing high leaping feats on something that bore a vague resemblance to a pogo stick and further along three women who twisted and turned and swooped down cascades of silk as part of their act, and kept up a lively exchange with the crowd as they worked. We wandered past a loud and lively children’s area and heard commentary on high flying trampoline performers from another area sponsored by a radio station before we moved on to do other, more mundane things, like buy groceries.

We often crossed the harbour and walked to stores in downtown Halifax, and sometimes we would come upon concerts and buskers performing along the harbourfront as we walked. Coming upon an unexpected performance is one of the best ways to discover a performer you like - we came across Jordan Croucher, singing a capella when his backup tape failed and obviously not needing the music in the background to help his voice to soar. He was performing on the deck of the Sackville, Canada’s last Corvette, now maintained as a floating museum and Canadian Naval Memorial. The performance was on behalf of Democracy 250, which is promoting recognition of the 250th anniversary of the establishment of parliamentary democracy in Nova Scotia and reaching out to young people to encourage them to understand the political process, be involved and vote. And that in itself tells you a lot about Nova Scotia.

And then there was the boat work we planned and set out to accomplish - with a lot of help from some of our friends. We built a new nesting dinghy, and installed mounting blocks so that we can carry it safely on top of our cabin. Our dinghy splashed into the water in the second week of August, complete except for the details. We can report that it rows very well, and we’ll soon know how it sails. And we designed and Richard (and our friend Steve) built a new entrance to our cabin, with a hinged hatch and doors instead of the old sliding hatch and boards. Installed it has lines similar to the old hatch but is much more waterproof and more easily opened and closed.

As always, there is maintenance - wood to be sanded and oiled, deck and cabin to be painted, and the dodger to be restitched. This time we handed the dodger over to Greg at Atlantic Canvas, who did a masterful job of stitching everything back together. The rest we tackled ourselves. The outside of our cabin is now a pleasing white, and so is our cockpit - there are still some small deck areas to be done, but we’ll do them where the weather is more pleasant.

Finally there are the things that broke unexpectedly. Our galley foot pump decided it had done enough work, and quit, to be replaced by one with a slightly higher flow. Our starter, newly installed in May, refused to work in September and had to be removed and replaced as well. Our main halyard developed chafed areas after rubbing against one of the spreaders in high winds and we changed it rather than risk it failing at an inopportune time.

One of the best things about the cruising life is seeing old friends and meeting new ones. We’ve seen a few old friends here and met many new ones, and once again our boat sails away carrying much that reminds us of people we have met and those who have helped us in many different ways. There have been many who offered us friendship and practical help and encouragement, and some who stand out because they have been so generous with their time and help. Thank you, everyone - we will remember you as we travel and plan to see you next summer when we are back in Halifax again.

So now, after all the help and work, the boat is back in cruising trim and all we need is the right weather to start moving south again. September has been eaten up by our preparations to move on, and the stormy season is upon us. It’s time to go...

Pictures from Summer 2008

Halifax was one of the stops in the 07-08 Round the World Clipper Race. Here the race boats, Clipper 68s, parade in Halifax Harbour shortly after their arrival. Ten boats, representing ten ports, leave Liverpool for a race around the world. Over the next ten months they round the world, stopping at different ports - by now they have returned to Liverpool, after calling at Sydney, Nova Scotia, then crossing to Cork, Ireland before returning to their starting point.




Trees, flowers, water, birds - Halifax Public Gardens is a beautiful example of nature tamed and coaxed and molded into a public park.










The Gothic facade of St. Mary's Basilica seen from Spring Garden Road, reputed to be the oldest Catholic church in North America. The building soars into the sky, and the facades is full of detail, with beautiful stained glass windows. The only thing lacking is enough space to step back and take the whole structure in.








We went all the way to Halifax to listen to the Trinidad and Tobago Defence Force Steel Band, marching in the Tattoo Parade on Canada Day.










A re-enactment of military drills from the time of muskets and kilts at the Citadel, the fortress that has stood guard over the city of Halifax, in one form or another, since 1761.











Of course, Canada Day meant fireworks. These were from a barge out on the harbour, part of a very nice display.









Hundreds of feet below the Cape Blomidon Lookout the farmland stretches to the shores of the Minas Basin, where the Fundy tides rise and fall, exposing great banks of red mud when they are low.










A wild rose bud hides among the leaves and stalks in a planter by the marina. The thorny wild rose bushes provide shelter for small birds and rose hips in the fall and winter for those birds that overwinter.

A Busy Dartmouth/Halifax Summer

It has been a busy and interesting summer. We have spent the season at Alderney Marina, enjoying the conveniences of sitting at a dock - easy access to water and a little extra power for keeping us warm when the weather turned cool. Sitting on one of the outer docks left us a little more exposed to weather that we would have been in a slip further in, so there were interesting times when wind and waves picked up and made the boat jump against her moorings. But turning our bow out into the the harbour helped, and so did being lucky enough to be able to move to a more sheltered spot vacated by another boat when the remnants of the storm called Hanna passed through toward the end of summer.

We’ve also enjoyed being a short walk away from the Dartmouth Farmer’s Market, where we buy local vegetables and fruit, eggs and cheese, and the occasional baked treat. In spite of the vagaries of weather the quality of everything we’ve bought has been good - and one of the best things has been being able to bite into fruits and vegetables that are fresh and full of taste. Even though it has meant getting up early to get there in time to choose from the best of the selection.

Then we had all kinds of activities to choose from. Halifax is a busy place in the summer time. There are boats and ships visiting, festivals and holidays to be enjoyed, and a wide choice of museums and galleries, large and small, and activities and performances and places to visit. We found our way to some and happened across others this year - but next year there will be more new-to-us places to visit and things to see.

Our summer in the harbour began with a visit from the ten sailboats taking part in the around The World Clipper Race. They stopped in Halifax after racing from New York, and when we saw them they were gathered in the harbour for a sailpast, each boat showing the flag of the country it represented proudly on its mainsail. The race is based in England and gives people of many different backgrounds and ages a chance to take part in a round-the-world sail on boats sponsored by and representing different ports along their route. Each boat is skippered by a professional captain, but anyone hardy and adventurous enough - and with sufficient funds - can join the crew. Crew members are trained and sign on for one or more legs (each leg is four weeks). Some do the complete ten month circumnavigation. The boats lay berthed in the harbour for a few days while the crews were feted and welcomed and took advantage of the opportunity to rest and replenish. We went across on the ferry to see them at their berths and admire, along with many others. Preparations for the next race are well underway now - if you are curious, you can learn more at www.clipperroundtheworld.com.

Canada Day celebrations were the next high point, starting with a pancake breakfast at Alderney Landing, continuing with the Tattoo Parade through downtown Halifax and a visit to the Citadel, followed by concerts back at Alderney and winding down with fireworks over the harbour. And that was only a sampling of the things we could have done - museums and historic sites all over the city were open and could be visited free. There were performances, picnics and events scattered around Dartmouth and Halifax, including a large run/walk around the city for the athletic.

Halifax’s Canada Day Parade reflects the towns military and naval roots. The parade is made up of groups from all over Canada and the world who are in town taking part in the annual Nova Scotia International Tattoo - the largest annual Tattoo in Canada, according to Wikipedia. The parade was led off by two mounties, their horses gleaming and strutting, followed by dancers and singers and costumed groups and by military groups and bands from Switzerland, the Netherlands, Germany, Denmark, Britain, Australia - and our favourite, the steel drum band from Trinidad and Tobago. We stood on the sidewalk on Spring Garden Road, watching as the streets were closed down and the parade approached and enjoying the reactions of the crowd to the passing bands as well as the spectacle passing in front of us. Then after the parade had passed we followed many in the dispersing crowd to the Citadel.

The Citadel, the fortress sitting at the top of the hill which used to have a clear view of the harbour and beyond, is very much part of Halifax’s and Dartmouth’s naval and military heritage. Even now, with more modern (and less elegant) buildings confounding the once clear view of the harbour and obscuring many of the remaining historic buildings clustered around the old port, the view holds hints of what it must once have been. The Citadel itself was full of activity, with music and cake to celebrate Canada’s birthday, re-enactors playing the part of soldiers from the days of muskets and kilts, and people visiting the museum and gift shop and wandering the grounds and ramparts. The museum traces the development of the fort, from its beginnings as a wooden blockhouse to its final, larger and more durable form when it was finally finished in 1856. Many people worked on it during its various construction phases, including Maroons transported to Nova Scotia from Jamaica in 1796, many of whom later moved on to Sierra Leone. We explored the museum, watched the people, and enjoyed a slice of cake before we moved on.

After our visit to the Citadel we crossed the harbour on the ferry, heading back to the boat and then to the outdoor concerts at Alderney Landing, beside the marina. The concert was lively and fun and included something for almost every musical taste; we particularly enjoyed the R and B of Asia and Nu Gruv, a group we first heard last summer at the Jazz Festival, and the very entertaining Celtic-based music of the Barra McNeils, and listened from the boat to a lively performance by Big Fish. Then we finished off the evening watching the fireworks over the harbour. A full and fun day.

July continued with music. We spent some time at the Jazz Festival, and our find this year was Coco Love Alcorn, whose set we thoroughly enjoyed. We enjoyed some other very good performances too and were particularly impressed by some of the younger musicians - the Matt Giffin Trio (Matt Giffin, Keith Doiron, Will Fisher) played incredibly well, reaching out to the audience and each other through their instruments, the groups that developed their performances in the Creative Music Workshop jumped into some very interesting and risky work, and we thoroughly enjoyed the Big Valley Swing Orchestra. If we had had the time to go to the festival every day it was on we would probably have an even longer list of the things that we enjoyed!

We did take some time away from music to explore and enjoy the Halifax Gardens, a cool and pleasant place on a warm day. Friends introduced us to more of this beautiful province, driving us through farmland and small towns and up the slope to the Cape Blomidon Lookout. And, as usual, we saw new parts of Halifax and Dartmouth as we walked or rode the buses from place to place. Walking gives us a chance to notice small things, read notices that flash past when we are on the bus, see the faces of people we pass by, enjoy the parks and the lakes that dot the Dartmouth side; the buses take us along routes we probably would not see otherwise. Between work and exploration time flew past, and by the time we looked around it was August, time for more festivities and for more serious planning for the time we will be heading south.

Pictures: Winter into Spring 2008

There were days when it seemed as if Winter would never leave - although we knew it would. A late March snowfall blanketed the city, and encouraged us to enjoy its beauty from inside the apartment we were renting.






Technically it's Spring. But, in spite of the sunny skies, it's cold and the boats are not going back into the water in any hurry. So the docks at Dartmouth Yacht Club are sitting waiting...








When we hauled the boat we found out why we were moving so slowly, and the boat had a tendency to pull to one side - mussels. Lots of them. Hanging on to the bottom - at least until Richard took the shovel to them. If the water here were cleaner we could have had a nice boil-up!






Here she is, back to normal, with fresh anti-fouling paint to keep the mussels away and the waterline stripe raised and repainted with hard anti-fouling paint. Hopefully that will keep below the waterline, wherever it may be, clean.








A warm day before we left Dartmouth Yacht Club - boats in the water, people exploring the shoreline.










Back at Alderney Marina, brightened up with fresh paint, lively colours - and flowers crowning the poles the docks are attached to! A different approach to things...

Getting Back On the Water Again

It took a while for the weather to get warm enough for comfortable work. Winter kept teasing, and Spring was coy. Now, while it is certainly not as warm as it would be further south - where, of course, we plan to spend next winter - we have managed to do some work and paint and move back on to the boat. The whole process went something like this:

At the beginning of May the boat came out of the water. Finally, after three years - longer than we had planned - we had the chance to take her mast down, clean the accumulation of plants and creatures at and below the waterline and put new antifouling on to keep those clinging sea creatures at bay. And it was past time, as we saw when Into The Blue was finally sitting in the slings - mussels had decided she made a good rock and had taken up residence en masse. They were literally hanging off the hull, in curtains. Not much wonder the boat had been dragging through the water, and showing a tendency to wander off in one direction! Happily, those mussels came off quite easily, and in the end it was a cleanup, scrape-off job that was not nearly as bad as it originally looked. Then we had two weeks to get our out-of-the-water jobs done and some hard work ahead.

So: on the list, the usual things. Cleaning, sanding, painting, touching up, mending. And a few new things - headliner, to help keep the forward berth warm and dry. New curtains, to replace the now well-worn ones we left with. Beginning the job of repainting the inside. Rewiring and removal of unused wires. Running new wires through the mast. The only problem was the normal one - time. So when we started work we did the most crucial jobs first.

We started with the bottom of the boat - mainly Richard’s job - sanding and washing and fixing the odd spot here and there, followed by masking and repainting our waterline stripe with hard antifouling paint in a suitable shade of blue. Then we recoated with ablative antifouling below the waterline. With the mast down, this was our opportunity to fix our mast-top anchor light and redo the wiring in the mast. Or rather, as it turned out, replace the anchor light, which fell to pieces in Richard’s hands when he tried to take the lens off to change the bulb. And the VHF antenna had also, as it turned out, been quietly falling apart. So it needed to be replaced too.

On deck I sanded and oiled the outside wood. Then it was into the cabin to clean the winter’s accumulation of dust and damp and mildew, and sand where we planned to paint. Then clean, and try to tidy up, and clean... But at the end of those two weeks the boat looked like a construction site and there was still work to be done. And she had to go back in. And the day we had chosen to be out of the apartment was fast approaching. The pressure of deadlines made life a little stressful.

Back in the water, we had only three days before it was time to leave the Dartmouth Yacht Club. We prepared to go with much left to be done, planning to finish our work down at Alderney Marina. Then a new wrinkle appeared. There we were, everything we had on board at the time safely stowed away, lifejackets ready, warmly dressed, chart on the counter in the cabin and GPS’s at the ready. Richard hit the starter button, planning to give the engine a few minutes to warm up. Nothing happened. No noise, not a click or a clunk, the engine did not even try to turn over. Was it the batteries? He tried charging them, boosting them with help from another boater down the dock - but nothing happened. The problem was unwanted but not unexpected: he had been nursing the starter along, but now it had declared itself past the point of being nursed - it had finally expired. Either we were going to stay where we were until we could get a new one, or we were going to ask for a tow out and try to sail down. That had its own challenges - we would have to go with the right wind and tide, to make it comfortably through the Narrows. And it was evening, and the light would be going soon. Either way, we needed time. We went to talk to the Club’s manager.

We were treated with kindness - Curtis, the manager, told us not to worry about having to take extra time, that our situation was understood. We gave the starter out and paid mightily for its replacement - something to do with ours being an old Renault engine and having to bring a starter in from the other side of the country. At least it was the other side of this country - there was a chance we might have been importing it from another one. We kept working inside the cabin while we waited - sanding, cleaning, putting up the headliner. Finally the starter arrived, Richard installed it, and right afterward we were lucky enough to have a good day for leaving. We reversed out of the slip at Dartmouth Yacht Club in our own unique way (one of the interesting things about having a full keel boat being that it likes to pick its own direction when going backward). A couple of half-circles, backward and forward, and then we were leaving Into The Blue’s winter home...

The wind came and went, and we half-sailed, half-motored to our summer spot at Alderney Marina to continue getting the boat ready to move back on to. First, finish the work we had started, then clean the boat and move things on, then clean the apartment... Now that part of the work is done. We are back on board, and it’s feeling like home again. Still things to do, but also time to look forward to taking breaks and doing some sailing and enjoying the festivals and events around town.

Starting with the visit of the Clipper Round The World Race boats. But that’s a tale for another time.

Winter Pictures from Dartmouth

Back in winter clothes again - something we had planned not to do! A winter walk on a sunny day to Albro Lake, not far from the apartment we are spending winter in.



This is Albro Lake, one of the many lakes in this city of lakes and just down the road from our apartment. This day it was frozen enough for the ice fishermen to venture out on.




The view from one of our windows after the snow has fallen and the plough has cleared the parking lot next door. Snow and more snow...














True to the pattern of this winter - after the snow, the thaw, and a day that is warmer, wet and rather windy.








There were ducks at the lake. We watched as they came in for three-point landings, sliding across the ice and occasionally into each other or a nearby seagull. The signs told us not to feed the birds, but they came over to check us out as a source for possible goodies anyway.

Dartmouth Winter

Winter continues, even as Spring tries to make her presence felt. Into The Blue has spent many days pulling at her ropes at Dartmouth Yacht Club; we visit to check on her and them, and to dry out her insides and contemplate the coming work we will tackle in Spring. On his last visit, Richard found her demanding attention now, water inside the boat above the floor boards. Marine growth has blocked her cockpit drains again, and water will go wherever it can find a way. We are grateful for promises of warmth, though the weather systems full of wind and snow and rain continue to blow through. It is difficult still for us to do much, but time to do what must be done and what we can. When we visit we often hear others working on land, under tarps and covers - the sound of sanders and grinders and other various electrically driven tools. We are planning and deciding on our priorities, and hoping that not too many things leap up to demand they be moved to the head of the line. Top of our list is pulling the boat and doing all the bottom paint and checking the rudder - not because the rudder is giving any indication of problems, but because it is awfully hard to sail without a rudder...

Meantime the Halifax Boat Show has been a welcome sign that winter will end and we will join the many others out on the water in their boats. This boat show is a little smaller than the Toronto Boat Show, and a little later - but a great place to seek out resources, talk to people and learn what’s new and what’s hot - like electric outboards and all kinds of self-powered craft. We were able to talk to manufacturer’s representatives and distributors, and see, touch and ask questions about a few things we were particularly interested in, like the Cobb Cooker and the Klepper Folding Kayak. And a place to spend an enjoyable and interesting day.

A good variety of seminars were presented. We would have liked to have visited more, but on the day we were there we chose the ones which interested us most, and not surprisingly those had to do with sailing the oceans. Derek Hatfield, Canada’s entry in the single-handed, round the world Vendee Globe race, gave an interesting talk illustrated with slides and clips showing the building and testing of Spirit of Canada, his present Open 60 ocean racer, and from the Around Alone he competed in in 2002. His slide/video show had wonderful pictures of life at sea in all kinds of conditions. His story is one of persistence and courage, and of reaching out to Canadians of all kinds to offer and seek support. He is carrying the names of thousands of supporters around the world on the hull of his boat as he races, and will send them news of his race as he goes. And the burgees of clubs that support him will travel with him around the world aboard the Spirit of Canada before they make their way back to the clubs they came from, autographed and bringing a touch of history with them.

If Derek Hatfield’s story is one of sailing as fast as possible, Hubert Marcoux’s is about taking the slow route, and enjoying the stops along the way. His book “Around the World in 18 Years” tells the whole story, but we got a taste of it - some highlights of the special places he stopped at, the interesting people he met, his loss of his first boat and the building of his second, his arrival in Halifax, and the subsequent arrival of Hurricane Juan. The images of his boat driven up into the garden of a house by the Bedford Basin were haunting. He is rebuilding his boat here, and hopes to be back in the water this summer; we plan to keep an eye out for him and hope to see him from time to time on our travels.

In our wanderings around the show we came across some interesting booths. One was for the Mahone Bay Islands Conservation Association. In so many places we have visited islands are being sold, taken from the public domain, overtaken by development and in too many cases destroyed by it. Some of the destruction is obvious - erosion and vanishing shorelines and plants, made worse by attempts to control nature without understanding how she works. Some is much harder to see, but it’s effects will continue to be felt for years to come - the impact of such things as the invisible pollution of common chemicals and human waste. The same is true along the coast of Nova Scotia, where beauty beckons the developers in - and then, ironically, they destroy the very thing that attracted them in the first place. This association brings people and government bodies together to try to slow the process in Mahone Bay, where islands dot comparatively sheltered waters and offer interesting anchorages and places to explore. Rather than stand by and see destruction happen, the Conservation Association is working with some success to preserve the nature of the islands as much as possible, for ourselves and future generations to enjoy. We plan to sail to and explore Mahone Bay this summer.

Now we are thinking ahead to when we get back on the boat. Our sails have been assessed and repaired and are ready to fly again, we have found local sources for various things we need, we are feeling the itch to sail again. Now if winter would just turn into spring and spring to summer...

Pictures from Dartmouth

Two long bridges cross Halifax Harbour between the Halifax and Dartmouth sides. This one is the McDonald Bridge, which lies closer to the harbour mouth. From it you can look down on the dockyards and the marina we were moored at from September to November.






The gulls eat well by the waterfront. Sea urchins, crabs, mussels which cling to the marina floats and rocks - we can see what they eat because they use the flat surfaces of the marina docks as a convenient place to rest their food on. And of course they don't clean up after themselves...






In October the weather grew cooler, though still not cold, and the leaves began to turn, warning us that this year we were going to see winter come.







There are little bits of history scattered along the Dartmouth waterfront, and stopping to look and read you learn many interesting stories. This elegant and broken propeller is from the Canadian Coast Guard Ship John A. MacDonald. It was damaged by ice while the vessel was assisting the oil tanker SS Manhattan in her historic crossing of the Northwest Passage in 1969. There are several tales wrapped up in there for those who care to pursue them.


For us, this is the heart of Halifax and Dartmouth - the harbour, with all its boats and ships and the businesses that surround them. Part of the dockyard lies across from this marina. We were lucky enough to be able to move in to an empty slip here in October, and Into The Blue found shelter here during NorEaster Noel.

Fall in Halifax/Dartmouth

The coming of September meant time to get ready to leave Into The Blue while we travelled to Toronto for the wedding of one of our daughters. We investigated different possibilities, and finally decided to leave our nice quiet anchorage and move over to Alderney Marina off the main harbour, on the Dartmouth side. We had found a very solid and relatively inexpensive mooring owned by the marina that we felt we could comfortably leave the boat on while we travelled. Once there we found our new spot was also conveniently close to a large library with internet access, the weekly farmers’ market, and a grocery and several other stores. Back from the wedding we decided to stay on where we were after September. There were interesting times - when the wind blew from the southern quadrant there was little shelter for our mooring. There were days when going out to the boat was a challenge, days when the wind blew up the harbour and created a large swell that made the boat look as if she was sailing into the waves. Luckily those days were few, and the wind almost always died at night.

As September became October and then November the weather became more unsettled and cooler. We spent much of October looking for an apartment to spend the winter months in. We had taken a hard look at our insulation and heating, and our lack of one and deficiencies in the other made it clear that wintering on the boat was not a good option. Winter, after all, was not in our original plans when we outfitted the boat, just the possibility of cool days and cooler nights. And cleaning condensation off the inside of the boat morning and night is not much fun. Then towards the middle of October we were given the chance to move into a spot at the marina vacated by a boat which had been taken out of the water. We took it happily, since it meant we could enjoy the shelter of the breakwater, the unaccustomed convenience of quick access to boat and land, and move off the boat much more easily. We walked around Dartmouth looking at apartments until we found the small one we are living in now , signed a seven month lease and moved in toward the end of the month. That turned out to be a little bit before NorEaster Noel blew into town.

The good thing about small apartments is that it doesn’t take much to fill them and make them look comfortably lived-in. Ours is furnished with donated, lent and cheaply acquired furniture, thanks to friends made after we arrived here and the local internet marketplace. And somehow the bits go together well enough not to look jarring. And, a real bonus, there is a large cupboard in the apartment which can be stuffed with boat bits - all those things which could not be left on board to freeze or get mouldy. There are lots of them, as we found out going through our lockers. The friend who helped us move (on, of course, a rainy, blustery day) was astonished that so much could come out of a boat so small.

It’s a quiet neighbourhood we’re in now, particularly at night and even more particularly on a night that is cold and wintery. The apartment building sits near the top of a hill looking down toward The Narrows between Halifax Harbour and Bedford Basin. There are no large highways nearby, no hum of city traffic. Two buses run past, from which we can transfer to others which will take us just about anywhere we want to go. There is a grocery store nearby, a small library and community centre down the road. We settled in quickly.

Then NorEaster Noel blew through. The afternoon before the storm arrived we took down all canvas, tied off ropes, took everything off the outside of the boat that could come off and tied down anything that could not, then doubled up most of the ropes as well as tying off the stern to a ring on the main dock, to try to hold the boat off the finger she was lying beside. We were not alone while we worked - other people were on their boats doing the same thing, some moving their boats into safer slips more sheltered by the breakwater. The evening came cold and still. We had done everything we could; now we could only wait and hope. We took what comfort we could from the thought that little damage had been done to boats in the marina during Hurricane Juan.

At the apartment we filled containers with water, cooked up some food in the pressure cooker and made sure our flashlights were in good working order. Our apartment is very sheltered so it was difficult to gauge what was happening outside, but that day there were times when the wind rattled our windows. We spent the day of the storm watching it’s progress on the weather channel (we enjoyed free cable for a month), checking our sources on the internet and listening to the radio - we were lucky that our power stayed on. We heard of some people who stayed on their boats in different harbours - all were fine; we heard that the waves in Halifax Harbour reached thirty-four feet high - higher than our boat is long; towards the end we heard of a few boats washed up on rocks or on to the shore in different places. We had decided ahead of time not to brave the weather and go down to the marina. There seemed little point, since as the storm progressed the waves and surge would make it too dangerous to try to reach the boat even if we saw anything happening. That was our home out there - we had done our best to prepare her, but it was a nervous day and night.

The next morning with the wind dropping Richard went down to the marina to see what had happened. The main docks are held in place by poles anchored into the seabed. Chains around the poles allow the docks to rise and fall with the tide. The marks from the chains showed that the surge had lifted the docks almost to the full height of the anchoring poles, and one dock had stuck at that height and was sitting at an angle, but apart from that there was little damage. All the boats in the marina had come through with little or no damage, and for us the only memento was some scratched paint where a fender had exploded and the boat had rubbed against the dock for a short while. We could breathe again.

Winter since has been a succession of more or less breezy days. The people who assured us that winter in Halifax did not see much snow, and what there was did not stay for long have been proved wrong so far this year. With La Nina dominating the weather patterns, Environment Canada is predicting the snowiest, coldest winter in the past fifteen years and the current forecast predicts the arrival of another NorEaster in the next few days. We sure know how to pick ’em!

Still, winter aside, this is a good place to be ashore in. There is work, people are friendly, there is lots happening and apartment rents are generally reasonable. And we are never far from parks and wilderness areas. Dartmouth has been nicknamed “City of Lakes” because of the number of lakes within its borders. Our apartment is a short walk from Albro Lake - it is covered now with snow and thin ice, but underneath the snow is a beach you can swim from on a warm summer day. And another short walk away is a monument to the Halifax Explosion of 1917, a piece of one of the ships that blew up in what was one of the most deadly explosions ever, a reminder of a difficult part of the city’s history. Other historic monuments and plaques are scattered through the city, giving a sense of the history of the area and the pride people take in it.

And now Christmas is approaching, and it will certainly be a white one. The snow that’s here shows no signs of disappearing any tiime soon. We’ll enjoy Christmas in the snowy north this year and look forward to having a green one next year. And we’ll let you know how it all goes.

Some Pictures from Halifax

Looking from Deadman's Island toward the Armdale Yacht Club. At the base of the big, old tree is the memorial to the American soldiers killed in the War of 1812 - past and present blending.Looking from Deadman's Island toward the Armdale Yacht Club. At the base of the big, old tree is the memorial to the American soldiers killed in the War of 1812 - past and present blending.





Looking down the North West Arm toward the Halifax Harbour entrance, with the fog lifting and a clear day on the way.











The Tall Ships visiting in Halifax Harbour - This figurehead looks calmly over visitors and work in progress (everybody has to do maintenance!).











Time to do some sail repairs on one of the tall ships, perched out on the bowsprit, glue gun in hand.













Neither fog nor rain nor wind deters them from their appointed race - members of the Armdale Yacht Club race off into the fog.











A sunny summer day by the Arm - as you can see, not everybody bothers with docks, especially when the shore is easier to row to. The dinghy was securely tied to a rock so that it would not float away when the tide came back up.









A day after clouds of flying ants suddenly descended on the boats, the ducks were still feasting happily. We could hear them eating away.

Anchored in Halifax for Summer, 2007

From Miami to Halifax

The voyage from Miami to Halifax was unusual for us. Instead of being miles away from the coast and far from most marine traffic we saw other vessels every day. There were fishing boats of all sizes and types, large and small container ships, cruise ships, trawlers, other sailboats - we were rarely alone for long. That kept us alert, and meant watches were busy - and even busier on days when the fog descended and keeping an eye on the radar and an ear to the wind was added to the mix. Though not too busy to enjoy seeing dolphins and birds - and, for the first time, whales.

As we got closer to Halifax the water and the weather grew colder. A week before we arrived we began to run our fireplace at night, to help us stay warm. We slept snuggled under layers of coverings, and on the coldest nights went to bed with a toque on to keep us warmer. Being able to pull it down over our eyes when a watch ran into daylight hours helped too! Sunshiny days warmed our bones; foggy ones were cool even though it was the warmer winds out of the south west that brought them. Sometimes the fog was so thick we could not see even nearby fishing boats, only hear them on the radio as they worked and watch for them on the radar. Occasionally we would catch a glimpse through the fog of one passing off our stern. Sometimes the fog was deceptive, closing our horizon down even though the area around us looked clear.

The trip took about eighteen days. We sailed in and out of the edge of the Gulf Stream depending which direction the wind blew from, with Herb of Southbound II to help guide us. Along the way we encountered mostly light winds, some moderate breezes, the occasional day or night of heavier wind and only one thunderstorm off the Carolinas. Though we did see lightning crackling on the horizon behind us after we passed the northern end of the Gulf Stream before it turned to run east. Most of the time we sailed comfortably with the wind behind us or on a beam reach - the day or two the wind was against us it was light. We enjoyed our best sailing of the trip coming into Halifax Harbour, flying along with the wind on our beam at 15 to 18 knots, watching for large ships moving in or out as we crossed the shipping lane and moving quickly toward a quiet place to anchor and check in. We were back in Canada after almost two years of traveling.

Halifax

By the time we arrived in Halifax we had already decided, after consulting our charts and Reed’s East Coast Nautical Almanac, to anchor up the North West Arm away from the traffic of the main harbour. It lies south of the harbour so we are not sure why it is called the North West Arm, except that it runs generally North West. It is a longish, narrow body of water which offers good shelter in most conditions so long as you can find a suitable place to anchor. This would be easier if much of the bottom were not a mixture of rock and mud with a healthy growth of weeds. Much of the area outside the channel is taken up by moorings, some belonging to individuals and some belonging to different marinas and clubs, but we did manage to find a good spot outside the Armdale Yacht Club to drop our hook. Members and staff were friendly and helpful, and we found ourselves close to public docks and access to stores and downtown - and in very convenient spot to enjoy watching their racing and regattas. We settled in for what was left of summer.

Halifax turned out to be a busy place. We arrived at about the same time as the Tall Ships. Shortly afterward the boats sailing in the race between Marblehead and Halifax began turning up. Many arrived in fog and had to be guided through the busy harbour to their berths by Halifax Harbour Radio and the Coast Guard. So we spent our first weekend in Halifax exploring Halifax Harbour and looking at the Tall Ships gathered at the docks and wharves there. They came in many different sizes, kinds and conditions and visitors flocked around and onto them curious about their origins, their journeys and how they worked. We saw the Roseway, last seen in St. Croix, and the Picton Castle, last seen in Bermuda in Spring 2006 and now black instead of white after her work on the TV show Pirate Master. There was a training schooner from Toronto, the Playfair, a little more rough than the others; and of course the beautiful Bluenose II. Along with other tall ships from the United States, Europe and the Caribbean. And sitting at a dock in the middle of all the crowds, the beautiful classic racing yacht Ticonderoga.

After that the Jazz Festival started the following weekend, and ran for ten days. There were local, national and international performers and all kinds of performances at different prices - including free afternoon shows which we thoroughly enjoyed. We particularly enjoyed Asia and Nu Groove, and unfortunately missed listening to Doug Riley and Tonic. Then there was the Buskers Festival, then Natal Day, the annual celebration of the birthday of the communities of Halifax and Dartmouth. More free concerts and performances to enjoy. By the end of August we were just about festivaled out, but happily there were lots of other things to do.

We explored downtown Halifax and found our way to the Khyber Centre for the Arts, and a show that moved beyond the level of simply presenting art. “Panzos, 25 years later” uses photography, paintings and the written word to tell the story of a small town in Guatemala and what happened there when the interests of its inhabitants ran contrary to those of the Canadian mining company, Inco. The artist, Marlón García Arriaga, a schoolboy at the time of the Panzos massacre, describes the development of his work this way: “In October of 1997 I participated as a forensic photographer in the exhumation of the victims of the Panzós massacre. They were found in a mass grave where their bodies had been cast indiscriminately. This was how I had the opportunity to participate in filling the vacuum present in the lives of Guatemalans despite 19 years of investigations into the events at Panzós. It was with my feet inside of this grave, alongside the women of FAMDEGUA (Association of Relatives of the Disappeared and Detained of Guatemala), that I made the decision to create an outline for an exposition that would include my photos, paintings inspired by such moments, the testimony of survivors, newspaper clippings from the time of the war, photos from historical archives, and testimonies of intellectuals and activists who had confronted the power of the Guatemalan state and its involvement with the Canadian mining company. The purpose of all this was to further illuminate and understand who I am and what had taken place in my country.” Beautifully painted and effectively presented, this was a show which made us think about another, uglier world.( (Link to more information))

And so we spent the summer exploring Halifax, enjoying places like the Public Gardens, the waterfront, some of the beautiful older buildings we came across on our walks. We passed the Commons, full of activity by day, with its playgrounds and skateboard park and ball diamonds. We learned a little about the area’s history, rich and storied. We learned, for instance, that the Armdale Yacht Club stands on an island with a historic past. The island has been a prisoner of war camp, a reception point for recruits to the British Foreign Legion, a hospital for immigrants suffering from Typhus Fever, a refuge for former black slaves fleeing the United States, and a navy prison and its clubhouse was once the home of the warden of a Military Prison. Close by is Deadman’s Island, not really an island but a point of land. The bodies of some who perished during their time on Melville Island are buried there and United States Marines help maintain it now in memory of those who were American prisoners of war from the war of 1812. Looking south east along the shore we could see the Dingle Tower in Sir Sandford Fleming Park, constructed to commemorate the 150th anniversary of the establishment of representative government in Nova Scotia - the first colony outside the U.K. to have this form of government. The tower was completed and dedicated in 1912.

In the present there were some practical things to be attended to. Richard started working shortly after we arrived, and early in the morning, sometimes at first light, we would take the dinghy across to drop him at one of the docks. Whenever the wind blew from the south west the fog would start to roll up the Arm and on a foggy morning I learned to steer using nearby boats and mooring buoys as waypoints until I could see the dock, and to find my way back the same way. We were forewarned when we would wake to the blare of ships’ horns as they made their way into the fogbound harbour. These kinds of conditions rarely lasted more than a morning, though we did get some very nice pictures of the Armdale boats racing off into the fog on a race evening.

Summer passed quickly , cooler than we are used to, and very green. We found wild flowers growing along the sides of many of the roads as we walked, and an abundance of bees and wasps and butterflies around them. We saw ducks, gulls, cormorants and the occasional loon and seal. Every now and again a cormorant would exit the water at speed, and a seal would pop up behind... The air smelled of trees and flowers over on the Arm, and not of automobiles and dust and factories. Not that the latter are not around - just that they are not, or not yet, overwhelming. We found many people who were kind, helpful and friendly, and a sense that the problems the community encounters should be faced together.

Pictures, Miami in 2007

When the winds blew out of the west the air was filled with haze and smoke. This created some strange and beautiful effects, especially as the sun was going down. This picture is taken from our boat anchored in Biscayne Bay looking toward Miami.






Morning sun lights the skyline of Miami as seen from Key Biscayne.













Coming in to Crandon Park Marina on a hazy, smoky morning with the sun trying to shine through.
















The sun goes down, flaring through the clouds behind one of the points protecting Hurricane Harbor.









Some birds will land anywhere - here we have an unexpected visitor while anchored in No Name Harbor.











Another smoky sunset, this time as seen from No Name Harbor.

To Miami

From St. Croix to Miami

We set off for Miami on April 6th with at least three days of good weather in the forecast and the wind behind us. Our trip through the more northern Virgin Islands was fast, the only challenge being the heavy traffic between the islands - ferries, charter boat, sailboats, work boats, small freighters. By our second day out we had sailed into windless patches and a squall. Over the next few days we practised all our light wind sailing techniques: using the drifter, motor sailing when there was not enough wind even for that (and we needed to charge our batteries) and poling out the jib -the wind stayed behind us. Then there were more days when light winds mixed with squalls - nothing like sitting there watching the weather come. Our plan was to follow a route which would take us past the Bahamas on their northern side, and then go south and cross the Gulf Stream. Then we started to hear Herb on Southbound II talk about heavy weather developing north of us and in the area we were planning to sail through, and we had had enough of squalls already...

And so we changed our route - our consensus was that a more southern route over the Bahamas banks and through the islands would be a wiser and certainly more comfortable choice. We approached the islands from the East sailing toward the Dotham Cut, which we chose because it offers an easy passage between islands to the Bank side. We were still some distance away from the cut, off Cat Island when we had what started off as an odd encounter. When we need to asses whether a boat is on a possible collision course with us we take a series of bearings on it. But this time we could not do that, because the boat kept weaving as it approached. We were beginning to feel a little apprehensive when we were hailed and realised, to our relief, that it was a US Coast Guard cutter. They were boarding boats in the area, and we were one of the elected. So there followed a very professional boarding by a party which included personnel from the US Coast Guard and the Bahamas Defence Force. They checked our papers and our equipment and we shared a little conversation - an unexpected and in the end pleasant diversion after eight days out. Then we went our way, and they continued on theirs. We heard them on the radio hailing other boats in the area...

The next day we sailed through the cut, with our engine on for extra power. Our new route took us across the banks and Tongue of the Ocean in increasing winds. The sail across Tongue of the Ocean was rather bumpy and uncomfortable, but much less so than it would have been further north. We were glad when we were travelling over the bank again through calmer seas, and the timing for approaching the cut through which we would leave the Bahamas worked out well.

We planned to make our exit from the Bahamas through a cut north of Cat Cay which the chart showed was wide enough and deep enough for our boat, and straight. With our engine going it should have been an easy exit to the ocean. The was only one flaw in the plan - our engine decided not to start, and with no time and place to turn back our safest option was to keep going and sail through. There were a few tense moments, but with a good wind to help us and Richard working the helm we were quickly and safely through. After that we had an exciting ride across and through the Gulf Stream with the wind rising and changing direction (at one point we suddenly found ourselves going north instead of south), and finally arrived in Miami twelve days after we set off. We tacked up the Biscayne Channel and sailed into No Name Harbor, attracting some attention when we dropped anchor under sail. This was one of those times we were glad we already knew the area! We stayed there while we checked in and sorted out our difficulty with the engine. In a couple of days we had it running again with help from a friend we were happy to find anchored there, and then we started into our usual routine of alternating anchoring and mooring, depending on what we needed to do. Thanks for all your help, Ken, and if you really have swallowed the anchor we hope you have found a comfortable place to make your home ashore.

In Miami

When cruising, you’re never sure when you will get to the next place. Once you get there you don’t really know how long you are going to stay - even if you think you do. Plans are always altered by whatever is happening with and around you. In the end we spent two months in Miami, visiting with family and doing the usual round of boat maintenance. This time there was a lot to do, including oiling and cleaning and re-arranging and putting stitches in and patches on various bits of our sails - sailing day after day tends to wear them out. Then there was the saga of trying to get our radio fixed. In the end we had to give up on that, since even after we had packaged it up and sent it off to one of the only two authorised repair centres run by the manufacturer it could not be fixed. In fact it ended up in a worse state than when we had sent it. And meantime time passed...

Florida in May and June was going through interesting times. On the surface all looked well. There was more tree cover and fewer signs of the hurricane damage that had been a noticeable part of the landscape on previous visits, so we saw a greener city. Trees looked bigger and healthier in the park around No Name Harbor and in Hurricane Harbor we were surrounded by well maintained lawns and gardens. There were birds everywhere and iguanas and lizards in abundance, and we saw manatees swimming through the mooring area of a marina which was Into The Blue’s weekend home.

But we soon found that winds blowing out of the west across Biscayne Bay were laden with ash from numerous wild fires. Before we left Lake Okechobee had gone down to its lowest level since records of its height were kept; in June there was a fire on part of the exposed lake bottom which burned organic matter left behind as the lake dried. The drought was taking its toll on farmers and businesses in mid-Florida, and people even talked about the rain a hurricane would bring. The ash in the air left a sooty residue on the boat and filtered the rays of the sun, creating strange atmospheric effects.

Before we left the summer thunderstorms had started. Almost every afternoon the skies would cloud over and there would be the snap and crackle of lightning and the rumble of thunder, sometimes very close by. Because it is so flat, we could see the storms coming across Biscayne Bay or over the land. One afternoon things got interesting as No Name Harbor suddenly filled with powerboats trying to tie up or anchor as a squall went sweeping through. If ever a cruiser needs encouragement to leave Florida thunderstorms like these will certainly help. We took the hint, thought about the quickly approaching hurricane season, and finished getting ourselves ready to leave so we could set sail as soon as the next good weather window appeared. We set off for Halifax, Nova Scotia shortly after the middle of June.

Looking off the north shore of St. Croix toward Buck Island, a park area much enjoyed by divers.














St. Croix is one of the few places we have been which has had the foresight to guarantee public access to the island's beaches. We were introduced to Carambola Beach, nestled between hills and reached through one of the resorts, on an overcast windy day.









Here we stand at the Eastern most end of the island, thanks to our friends Lynne and Dave on Kittywake.












The schooner Roseway worked hard, taking school children and sometimes other groups out for a few hours of sailing. We would hear visitors aboard and crew as they raised the sails going down the channel - "Heave!" "Ho!", call and response setting the rhythm for hauling on the lines. Here she is returning as the sun sets behind the hills around Christiansted.







The old Customs House on the waterfront welcomed those coming to pay their dues with a graceful stairway and pleasant exterior - perhaps that made the task less painful?










An abandoned windmill sits by the boardwalk in Christiansted, overlooking the many dinghies tied up along the waterfront while their owners are busy ashore. Number of dinghies aside, things feel quieter here than in St. Maarten, more relaxed.