Back to the USA - Roque Island, Maine

[Kyle]On the evening before we left Grand Manan Island to return to the U.S., I wasn't sleeping too well. After a bit of tossing and turning, I decided to give up and just get out of bed. Then, after checking the weather, I woke up Maryanne to tell her we were leaving earlier than I had told her the night before. We pulled up the anchor at 0344.

It was a lovely evening, with clear skies and a big, bright moon. The forecast tailwinds hadn't fully arrived just yet, so the water reflected the stars and lights ashore like a slowly undulating mirror.

Calm ocean waters made for an easy passage (and brief opportunities to sail)

When the wind finally did arrive, we were already well clear of Grand Manan. We hoisted the spinnaker for about half an hour, before the wind went back down to less than one knot. We waited around for another half an hour before deciding it wasn't coming back soon and fired up the engine again.

Our day pretty much went like that. Sail for half an hour, bob around for half an hour, and then motor until the wind resumes. In the end, it took us over ten hours to go twenty-five miles and we had an engine running for eight of them. I reassured myself by thinking it was at least not into headwinds.

Roque Island had been one of our favorite anchorages in Down East Maine, so we decided to make it our first stop this time. The last time we were here, Begonia was the only boat, and I remember being struck by the complete lack of artificial night at night.

This time, there were several boats scattered through the big anchorage, as well as a group of lobster boats at one end of the beach enjoying a family get-together on their day off. We don't know if the extra boats were because it was a weekend, it was later in the cruising season, or that there are more boats generally than there were the last time we were here eleven years ago.

Still, Roque Island is a beautiful, pleasant place, even if there are more anchor lights about. Since we have the electric dinghy motor now, we spent the next day exploring the surrounding archipelago as much as we could and having chats with the other boaters over the rail as we passed by.

Roque Island is private, so we can only go ashore at one (beautiful) beach, but we also managed to explore about the shorelines of the various inlets near our anchorage. The last picture is a large fishing net snagged on the rocks (we reported it to the island owners, so hopefully they can safely remove it)

[Maryanne]Note:We have both a 2024 DTOPS sticker for Begonia (DTOPS = Decal Transponder Online Procurement System) , and the CBP ROAM app (CBP = Customs and Border patrol, ROAM = Reporting Offsite Arrival – Mobile) - these mean that we can simply call in by phone to register our arrival, sometimes with a video chat, and so far never needed to actually see Customs and Immigration in person. This makes it really easy to arrive in the USA (as a USA boat) and not have to go direct to a marina/major city to clear in. We love it. On this trip we were prepared to go to Cutler if requested, but grateful that we didn't need to.

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Anchorage location >> On google maps

Grand Manan (It’s fun to say, like Bananarama), New Brunswick

[Kyle]We left Shelburne in time to get back into the cold waters of the Atlantic by sunset. For the first time since leaving the St. Lawrence, we had wind from astern to push us along.

Of course, that was because we were in the tail end of a Nor'easter, which meant that it was NOT warm. It started to turn back against us as we approached Seal Island, at the southwestern tip of Nova Scotia. That allowed us once again to turn away from the wind to head north towards Grand Manan Island.

Another sail with plenty of fog (thank goodness we have a reliable radar)

During my New Moon night watch, I was enjoying a beautiful trio of tailwinds, following current and flat seas. Near the end, as we were zooming up to the southern tip of Brier Island, things started to get a little funny.

The first thing I noticed was the unmistakeable sound of surf to port. I checked the charts and our backup charts and we had no shoals nearby, but it was hard not to notice that sound crashing through the darkness.

Then the wind started pulling way too far forward for the spinnaker we were flying. It collapsed and I had to turn directly at Brier Island to keep it filled.

It turned out the wind hadn't really shifted at all, it had just died. The thing that changed was that now we were being swept sideways by a current that was accelerating through five knots as it swept toward the Bay of Fundy.

At the ledge that drops into deep water, the current spread out and abruptly stopped. At this interface was a big line of standing waves. That was the surf sound I had been hearing. Unfortunately, we were now being swept towards it at five knots, with no way to avoid it.

Well, here we go! We got broadsided by two waves which gave two big shakes to our previously gentle evening. It was as if we had been waked by a big power boat (I'm looking at you, Andy Soto!) Poor Maryanne got flipped from whatever side she had been sleeping on to the other. She emerged, wild-eyed, and asked if everything was okay.

By then, we were back on flat water, with a spinnaker-filling tailwind. I had just climbed back into the helm seat and was able to act like everything had been fine all along. “What could you possibly be worried about?” I asked, “Did I you have a bad dream?”

All of the stuff that had been thrown onto the floor belied my little ruse.

The remainder of our Bay of Fundy crossing was uneventful. By the time we arrived at North Head at Grand Manan Island, New Brunswick, we were back to being enshrouded in the ever-present fog. We broke out just in time to find our public mooring at the far end of the bay, where we hunkered down for the rest of the day.

In the morning, we emerged to find that all of the clouds were GONE! It was a bright, blue, sunny day. We piled ourselves into the dinghy and rowed ashore for a day of hiking from viewpoint to viewpoint. Grand Manan is surprisingly hilly and dense with scenery for being an otherwise compact little island. We both enjoyed it there very much. We undoubtedly would have stayed longer had we not been facing an unusual stretch of tailwinds for our further push westwards.

We had a glorious (and exhausting) day exploring ashore (rewarded with a pizza at the nearby Old Post Office Pizza resaturant).

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We were able to pick up a free town mooring for our stay in Flagg Cove, North Head: location >> On google maps

Shelburne, Nova Scotia

[Kyle]Since our sailing in Nova Scotia so far has been 100% tacking in cold fog, we knew we had no other choice but to leave Carter's Beach at first light if we were going to have any chance of making it to Shelburne by nightfall. As I walked Begonia's deck making preparations to get underway, the whole bay was eerily silent. All of my tiptoeing around and fiddling with things by contrast made me sound like I was a roadie doing a sound check for the drummer. When we pulled up our anchor, we could just make out the glow of the anchor lights on the other two boats. I was surprised to see the far one on Saraphim also had a green light showing. Perhaps they had bumped a switch.

To save miles, I had planned our route through a very narrow and shallow pass to the west of Spectacle Island with the hope that the chart was accurate. This took us close by the other boats. As we approached Seraphim, their green light turned red and that's when I realized they were coming right at us. Those Ninjas had pulled up their anchor with barely a sound and had very nearly beat me at my own game of being the first boat out of the anchorage. Seraphim draws more than we do, so they elected to take the longer, deeper route to the east of Spectacle Island to get to the open sea.

They vanished into the fog about thirty seconds after our parting waves to each other. We tracked them on our AIS for a while, but our first tack took us far enough offshore that they were out of range before we could tell which way they were heading.

Where the fog was thinner, we found beautiful skies, and the odd whale to keep us company, on our sail to Shelburne, where we anchored just off the local yacht club

As we approached Shelburne harbor on our last tack, we were hoping the wind angle would hold and we would be able to make it up the eight-mile long bay without any further zigzagging. Alas, since this is Nova Scotia, the wind shifted just enough to make us have to do two or three to make it to the town at the head of the bay. We anchored just outside the mooring field at the Shelburne Yacht Club.

Swinging on one of those moorings was Seraphim. They motored into direct headwinds along the coast and had arrived five hours before us. When pressed, Drew admitted that they had burned four gallons for the day to our half gallon.

The weird thing about the sail up Shelburne harbor was the water temperature. In the open sea, the water temperature was 7C, which effectively refrigerates the whole boat. By the time we reached the town, the water had climbed to a whopping 24C. This was way above the dew point of the surrounding air, which effectively put Shelburne right in the middle of a big blue hole of Summer sunshine. Our thick foul weather gear quickly became unbearably clammy and we had to trade off as we sailed so the other one could peel off the layers in exchange for proper summer wear.

Completely by accident, we had arrived at the beginning of “Dock Days”, Shelburne's annual mid-summer festival. Our first evening, Begonia was tenth row to a pretty decent cover band as she bobbed at anchor.

The next day, we went ashore at the Shelburne Yacht Club and paid our fees, which seemed both steep and surprisingly nickel-and-dimey for a club that is otherwise renowned for being welcoming and even friendlier than most Canadians.

We had a lovely welcome to Shelburne, from fellow boaters (Amy and 'Drew of Seraphim) and plenty of sunshine

We went to the old sawmill, which is being slowly restored and turned into a working museum. One of the gentlemen there offered to answer any questions we might have. That ended up morphing into a full private tour. When that was done, he took us down the street into the festival and started explaining all sorts of interesting bits of Shelburne's past before handing Maryanne and I off to a woman in period costume who was baking a pie on an open fire.

Old Sawmill

Festival Fun (Combined Founders day and Dock Festival)

A dose of photo-booth silliness added to the fun of the day

We could not have picked a better day to be in Shelburne. Not only is the town picturesque and charming in its own right, this day it had been transformed into a loosely 18th Century living museum full of happy people out enjoying a bit of wholesome fun on a summer weekend. For example, they had barrel races, where a person gets into a barrel and rows it to a mark using only one paddle. A barrel is a surprisingly difficult thing to paddle, since mostly it just wants to spin around in circles from the force applied. When we arrived, the last place finisher was a girl around nine years old. When she finally was able to get close enough to the flag to smack it with her paddle, tipping herself into the drink in the process, all of the onlookers let out a big heartfelt cheer for her at her accomplishment. It was downright heartwarming. There was also a 21st Century bubble cannon, face painting and silly photo booths.

And various Museums all open for the special day

We made sure to hit (almost) all of the town's museums. Most impressive to us was the Dory Shop Museum. Back in the days before the now ubiquitous inflatable zodiacs, dories were the easy-to-row tender of choice. Shelburne built tens of thousands of them over the years. They had one employee, Sidney Mahaney, who built dories for a total of SEVENTY-NINE years; He worked there between 1914 and 1971, then returned when it reopened as a museum in 1983 until his death in 1993. He rowed a dory several miles to work each day and on his days off, he did some carpentry on the side, including building dories at home for some extra cash!

Our fun wasn't over yet. Amy, from Seraphim graciously invited us to dinner aboard her and Drew's beautiful boat. She even said that catering to our annoying diet would be a fun challenge for her. She did a great job; the food was delicious and the company delightful.

At about the time most cruisers would start nodding off and bidding each other goodnight, the festival's boat parade started. Here, practically all of Shelburne's working fleet paraded by us decorated in all manner of elaborate lighting.

At the end of the parade, the fireworks started. There was a good fifteen-minute, high density display launched from the working decks of two of the local commercial fishing boats. After the particularly grand Grand Finale, the smoke cleared and everyone started for home. Wow! That was a pretty amazing display for such a small town.

A lighted boat parade with fireworks (always better in real life than in photos)

Then one of the boats started a whole new fifteen-minute display, followed by yet another fantastic Grand Finale.

Bonus, eh?

Then the other boat did the same thing! It quickly became clear that this was the result of some sort of friendly rivalry between the two operators. Just when we all thought we must be finished by now, a whole brand-new fireworks show would begin. Excluding the dramatic pauses for effect, we onlookers were treated to about an hour and a half of continuous bursts. Only at New Year's 2020 in Sydney have we seen more fireworks let off at the same time as at otherwise sleepy Shelburne, Nova Scotia!

We were a bit late in rousing the next morning. Maryanne and I decided to spend the remainder of our day enjoying a peaceful walk to the other, western side of the harbor. In the way that we do, we kept finding one thing after another to extend our outbound track, ensuring that the walk back would be defined by increasing soreness. A sit-down and cold beers at the yacht club with Amy and Drew were just the things we needed by then.

There was a car show on in town which we discovered on our way to the trail

Another sunny day made for a great walk across to the Islands Provincial Park via the Roseway River Trail

With the weekend over, we declared an official end to fun. We spent our last morning trudging to the store to buy as many provisions as we could carry and then trudging them back to the boat. To be fair, it wasn't that bad. Our cart has wheels and it is downhill from the store. Also, Shelburne is a pleasant and leafy place for a walk.

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Anchorage location >> On google maps

And the local Yacht Club >> Shelburne Harbour YC and Marina