Dawdling Under Canvas Along the Saint John River
A September 2008 Cruise in Wayfarer 8328 Naomi
by Jim Fraser
September 21-22
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September 21 Sunday:

click here for full-sized chart image


 
An overcast day with light winds resulted in a chilly but sedate passage to Gagetown. Here I purchased additional supplies. Allan Parry, who I often cruise with, would have been dismayed with me. He is a gourmet cook and keeps trying to instill his sophisticated culinary values in me. In spite of his influence, I only bought three tins of sardines and a box of instant oatmeal packets. 
 








Just across the river from Gagetown, I rowed up Mount Creek on Gagetown Island. Only a narrow clear channel snaked up this creek. Rowing wasn’t easy because the oar blades became wrapped in long ropes of marsh growth. I brought Naomi ashore on a thick bed of mud and cow manure and trod through this nauseous mixture to dry land. I visited the remains of an old Georgian manor, then walked to the top of the loftily named Mount Arat before trekking through the lower pastures. 







Later in the day, I crossed the main Saint John River and anchored behind Grimross Island at an attractive sand beach. I spent the rest of the day ambling about this sandy island, relaxing in my thermarest chair, catching up on the adventures of Nathaniel and his duck-gunning boat and just gazing about. Naomi was looking her best on this still, clear day. For a dinghy designed in 1957, the Wayfarer doesn’t look dated or dowdy.









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September 22 Monday:

click here for full-sized chart image (right half)
click here for full-sized chart image (left half)
 












I'm back in Oromocto. After calling Gail and Elizabeth, I go out for the only restaurant meal of my vacation at a McDonalds. But now it is 1330 and too late to head upriver. I’ll stay overnight at the floating dock and make an early start tomorrow morning. It will be so simple to untie Naomi’s mooring lines and be on my way without the bother of retrieving and stowing water-logged rodes and mud-encrusted anchors.
 
For a bit of exercise, I hiked up the old rail bed which is now part of Trans-Canada Trail. I followed this path along the Oromocto River until I reached the secondary road leading from Oromocto to Fredericton. Here, I thought about the time when my buddy, Phil Whalen, and I ran away from his home in Oromocto and followed this same road. We were seven years old when we snuck away at dawn with a couple of bottles of pop and snacks. Escaping the irritation of Phil’s mother, siblings and Oromocto, we headed for the excitement and adventure we were sure to find in Fredericton. Late in the afternoon, a man stopped his car and picked us up. He had seen us walking along the road early in the morning and saw that we were still on the road late in the afternoon as he headed back to Oromocto. Soon we were back at Phil’s home tired out and suffering with aching feet and sunburns. Our mothers had been frantic and feared we were drowned in the river. They didn’t know whether to beat or hug us but I only recall the latter.
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