More Whales, WW II Immigration and the Crossing

Molly and Dick's wife, Ellen, were pleased not to be aboard Salty Paws on this day of fog and choppy seas.

 

We left Tadoussac in fog and choppy seas, but were pleased to see some more belugas and added to our whale list - minkes and the most incredible addition, a narwhal.  Now, Dick only saw the last splash and you will have to rely on my word, which is not 100% infallible.  I saw a 12 to 15-foot whale jump out of the water with what appeared to be a tusk pointing straight up. 

This picture of a narwhal was uploaded free from Pinterest.

Perhaps, the only skimpy evidence in support of this being a narwhal is that there has been a sighting this year of a nawhal near Tadoussac.  In our visit to the whale museum there was even a video of a narwhal that had been adopted by a pod of belugas.  Generally, though, they remain in arctic waters.

The Beluga whales seem to be the most prominent whales in the St. Lawrence.  We saw multiple pods, but it is debatable if our pictures are any better than the ones we had taken earlier.

One of the three belugas swimming together.

We cruised along the northern shore of the St. Lawrence, sensing that our journey would soon be in a much more isolated part of Quebec.  Yet, cell service continued to remain excellent, and a paved bike trail followed most of our journey for the next 150 miles.  Our first night after Tadoussac was in a foggy cove with rolling seas.  We put out a second anchor off our stern to help keep the boat headed into the waves.

Our second night was to be in Ainse Saire Pancrace, a beautiful, small fjord with multiple waterfalls tumbling down over the cliffs.  We took a few pictures, but it turns out that the long, anchored dock we expected to find had been damaged the prior year.  The dock how was under repair in nearby Baie-Comeau, the one-time home of fellow Rosborough owner, Peter Hornby.  We ended up going to the nice marina there.

Beautiful Ainse Saire-Pancrace.

Earlier on our trip Peter and his wife, Claudia, were our tour guides on Valcour Island, and he told me the story about immigrating as a young boy to Baie-Comeau from England in 1948.  After World War II, there were many challenges to living in England, where food rationing continued into the 1950s.  Canada sought out foreign skilled workers and paid to relocate his family to Baie-Comeau where his father held a higher level position at the local paper mill.  The Hornbys were one of only a handful of English-speaking families in what was then a small logging town.  Like Peter's, the fathers typically held higher level positions at the mill, and there was frequent evidence of resentment.

When Peter began first grade at the local elementary school,  he was soon beat up by some of his local French-speaking classmates.  After a number of similar events, his parents decided it was time to move, first to Ontario and ultimately to the States.

Club Nautique de Baie-Comeau

The following day was beautiful and we arrived at Baie-Trinite, where we anchored of the southwestern end of a 1.5 mile crescent beach.  After anchoring we lowered the dinghy from the roof and motored to the beach for an enjoyable 3.2 mile walk.

On the beach at Baie-Trinite.  We actually
look pretty good, having showered and
shaved that morning at Baie-Comeau.

View of Baie-Trinite.  You can barely make out Salty Paws
as we had to anchor farther out because of shallow depths.

I haven't mentioned it yet in the blog, but we have been having trouble with our new anchor rode, made up of 80-feet of chain and 120-feet of rope.  Even thought it was supposed to be sized correctly, the chain is a tad too large for the windlass that pulls it up.  Too often the windlass jams, causing a fuse to blow and shutting down power to our instruments.  I have been working on some wiring adjustments that are still in progress.

This morning (July 25th) I woke up at 4 am and checked the weather forecast as this is the day we scheduled to make the 40-mile crossing of the St. Lawrence River.  Seas were to remain calm until 9 am so I exclaimed "all hands on deck!"  Dick, as it turns out hadn't had a good night of sleep, but he quickly rose.  I started the engine and went to bow to manually raise the anchor, not wanting to deal with another power outage at this time.  Dick joined my on the bow and did the bulk of the lifting.  We were underway at 4:20 am, and had a very relaxing 9-10 mph crossing of the river, arriving at the fishing village of Saint Anne Des Monts 5 hours later.  We soon enjoyed a late breakfast out at Tim Horton's and reprovisioned.  

As I am about to post this, the winds just picked up considerable.  We moved Salty Paws further away from an adjacent sail boat and added an extra spring line to the dock.  Tomorrow, weather permitting, we head further east on the Gaspe Peninsula.

Dick drew the short end of the straw to get gas for Salty Paws (pictured in background) at the local filling station.  The boat
has an 117-gallon gas tank, and we carry 6 5-gallon containers.  So far, we have averaged almost 3 mpg, giving us a range of
over 400 miles.  If we cruise above 9-10 mph, however, we can get as low as 1.5 mpg.  As we have over 200 miles to our next
planned fuel stop, we are using every opportunity to fill the tanks where gas is available, even it means using our wagon.

I am ready to walk to the grocery store, wearing a cooler backpack and one shopping bag.  They were both full on my return.