May 27th was the big day. We had spent the last couple of weeks making the necessary upgrades and repairs to the boat. May 27th the boat was going back in the water.
It was not to be a day without it’s challenges.
We stood by and watched as the boatyard crew skilfully manoeuvred the 12 ton boat onto a trailer, and from there to the travel lift which would lower it into the water using two large straps under the hull.
Saumure heading back to water
Callum doing a quick touch up on the paint where the stand pads had been
With that completed it was our turn.
Back at sea
We checked over the boat for any leaks and, not finding any, went to start the engine. It wouldn’t run.
An hour later I emerged from the engine bay diesel soaked and triumphant.
I had run the fuel hose into a Jerry can rigged up with a lift pump. And it ran!
The next couple days passed in a frenzy of final repairs and cramming the boat to the gunwales with food and water.
Gathering food for the voyage
Our cousin Isla and our grandfather flew out to help us get ready, which was a huge help.
Cousin Isla giving Callum a hair cut
Granda Duthie and Callum enjoying some sausage rolls
Isla and Graham loading the food stores
June 3rd, with the boat sitting decidedly low in the water, we cast off our mooring lines and headed for the open ocean.
Callum and Cianan all set to cast off
As we motored by one guy commented “now that’s a sailboat!”. He has good taste.
Day one was dead calm and we motored all day. A trend that would continue for quite some time.
Passing Peggy’s Cove Lighthouse
As we entered the narrow rocky channel to our anchorage, the engine, in true Saumure fashion, sputtered and died. It is one of the many mysteries of the sea why engines always die in busy harbours, crossing reefs and entering narrow rocky channels. But it is a phenomenon that we have witnessed time and again over the past 3 years.
Cub Basin entrance
I eyed the rapidly approaching rocks nervously as I plied my wrenches.
After a brief but determined struggle, and moments from the jagged shore, it relented and coughed to life. Maybe it did have some sense of self preservation after all…
Cub basin was a well protected Anchorage, though with limited access to shore.
Nonetheless we did plow our way through the thick knee high shrubs to a rocky outcropping that formed the highest point.
Callum ashore at Cub Basin
While we were ashore a tick decided it rather fancied the sea going life and joined us back on the boat. We put a swift end to these wayward notions.
Day two
We upped anchor at 6:45am and headed out into a glassy calm sea.
Around noon the 39’ cutter Evergreen passed us.
The wind picked up for about two hours as we passed Halifax harbour and we were cruising at 5kts under full sail.
Soon enough we were coaxing our trusty little yellow engine back to life though.
As we progressed north, the lobster pots became more and more abundant. Each with a 30’ floating rope trailing off it, just waiting to snare the propeller of an unwary boater.
Luckily for us Saumure’s full keel design allowed us to pass over them without incident.
That night we anchored in Quiet cove. A tiny little cove that could only fit one boat.
Our anchorage at Quiet Cove
We went for a short hike ashore before boiling some potatoes for supper.
The next couple of days passed uneventfully with a fickle wind and a calm sea. Sails were put up, taken down and put up once again. An ominous fog bank hung on the horizon. A weak sun filtered down through grey sky.
Motoring through the fog
Our next stop will be Newfoundland in a couple of days