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| Wednesday, July 23: Forecast winds
NW 10-15 knots
Water was running short. I could have topped my containers at Marie Joseph, but I was warned the high mineral and iron content might not agree with me. To save water, I wouldn’t have coffee this morning. What a mistake! I was cranky all day. |
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| The most easterly point of my passage lay in view. From Liscomb Harbour, the wreck of the Liberty ship, Fury, looked like a schooner heeled on her starboard side. Two tall masts remained standing over the rusty hull impaled on Sterring Reef off Cape Gegogan. Storms of the last few years have been hard on the old girl. Till recently, she stood upright with the hull basically intact. Now the forward section has disintegrated as far aft as the funnel. |
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| The morning was windless so I rowed to the wreck. Passing Tobacco Island, I listened to the din of thousands of nesting seabirds. Exposed to the open sea, these shallows would be dangerous to visit except in calm weather. Fishermen harvest sea urchins among the rocks to supplement their incomes. While I pottered around the wreck, a gentle breeze arose. |
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| I raised the sails and returned to Liscomb Harbour. A cool wind now gusted off the hills. After sailing up to Gasperau Brook, I walked along its banks to the highway. Next I sailed around to the wharf at Liscomb and talked with the man operating the Irving Oil fuel tanks by the wharf. He had no water but another fellow offered to drive me to a variety store for some. I preferred to walk to the store as I needed the exercise. Returning to the wharf, we talked further. The men mentioned how well the dinghy rowed and asked how my stay in the cove was. I thought my stay was unobserved but shouldn’t have been surprised. A pair of high-powered binoculars lay on the window ledge. My entering and leaving the cove was public knowledge. So many times I have sailed the coast in what I believed to be obscurity only to find my passage is being followed. Back in my cove, I settled down with a cup of coffee and my book. The chilly wind whipped the tree tops but the Wayfarer was a warm home with the boom tent up. |