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| Tuesday, July 22: Forecast winds W 10-15
knots
As I peered from the boom tent, the morning greeted me with a brilliant orange sunrise. Prevented from a walk by the surrounding mudflats, I heated a pot of coffee and slipped back into my sleeping bag. Before sailing further down the coast, I planned to stop in Marie Joseph and phone Gail. Unlike the clear skies and brisk winds of the previous days, Tuesday was overcast with a light westerly breeze. Cleating the jib and main and paying minimal attention to the helm, I sorted and cleaned the clutter in the cockpit while sailing. Since the lobster season was over, I didn’t have the hazard of catching the rudder in a labyrinth of pot lines. However, in the vicinity of Marie Joseph, there were several crab pot lines to avoid. |
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| Marie Joseph is a small fishing community with two wharves, a fish plant, general store, and houses which stretch a few hundred yards along the highway. After hauling Naomi onto a slipway, fronting a derelict boat building shed, I used the phone at the store. The general store is the only one for miles, and it stocks groceries plus household supplies and a wide supply of marine equipment for the fisheries. From the store’s steps, I watched men filleting haddock at the fish plant. Some locals stopped to talk and time rambled on. Returning to Naomi, I stowed the juice and snacks I had purchased then sailed on. |
| Beyond Smith Point the breeze faltered.
Naomi edged toward the skeleton light tower on Thrumcap Rock.
Slowly she overhauled the marker and left the shelter of Barren Island.
A low swell set the dinghy shoreward and I juggled with the light breeze
to give her sea room. Nearing the port bell buoy YT5, a steady wind
came up and Naomi sailed briskly between Liscomb Point and the lighthouse
on Liscomb Island.
..  I intended to tie up to the old government wharf on Liscomb Island but the wooden sides had deteriorated, and large rusty bolts waited to gouge Naomi’s hull. Due to the sea surge, landing on the gravel beach was impossible. Continuing on to Hemloe Island, I rowed over a shallow shell bar and lowered anchor in a secluded cove. |
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| This cove would be home for the next three
days. Overheated, I sought the shade of the surrounding forest.
Later I returned to the dinghy and hung the sleeping bag, towels, and clothes
to dry. A light supper was followed by an evening of reading and
nibbling on junk food.
During the evening, a small open fishing boat with two men onboard entered the cove. One man, wearing scuba gear, slipped overboard. When he surfaced, he clutched a bag containing scallops. The men motored over for a talk and offered me some scallops. I am not a fan of shellfish and declined their offer. The night was calm and the maze of stars in the sky was mirrored on the surface of the cove. I was enchanted with the view. |