Nova Scotia! Cape Breton Adventure
A Love Story! ❤️⛵️
7/29/23- As Gerry, dock-master and marina manager, Joe, and I sauntered down the pier towards the office at St. Peter’s Marina, us, slightly stiff, finding our land legs, I thanked Gerry for helping us tie up. Matter of fact, there were three(unheard of number) line handlers waiting for us(one was Brad, a fellow Salty Dawger) after we exited the canal and rounded the corner to port, looking for the t-head dock Gerry described over the radio when we steamed through St. Peter’s lock. The guys waving to us were a welcome sight; we knew showers and sleep were ahead after our 28-hour sail. In addition, the wind had kicked up and friendly faces to catch the lines eased any anxiety that can accompany docking our 26,000 pound home especially since I’m not doing any big steps down these days with my back still healing and we are old school- no bow thrusters on Adiona.
As we walked, I added, “ Everyone in Nova Scotia is just SO nice… We need to send you some more Americ…,” leaving my last word dangling as we all burst into collective laughter. “No,” Joe and I added together, “we probably don’t need to send more Americans here.” Gerry assured us Cape Breton could handle them.. and more easy banter followed. This was our welcome to St. Peter’s, Nova Scotia, the port that marked the gateway to the Bras d’Or Lake in Cape Breton. We were overjoyed and a little stunned to have traveled so far. I checked the chart plotter today on 8/09: 733 miles since I rejoined the boat in Jamestown, Rhode Island. And we have yet to head back south!
We left Rockland, Maine on the morning of July 16. I wrote the last blog post as we sailed from Lunenburg to Halifax. Yes, it made me bit seasick. The sacrifices we make for artistic expression. 🙄I have not really written “travelogues” since beginning this blog, but this little corner of the world is so appealing. It feels a disservice to the kindnesses we have experienced, all we’ve learned, and the unspoiled beauty of this land to let it recede further into the vagaries of memory, so I hope to indulge myself with some remembrances in a few posts. I’m hoping, you, reader, will enjoy meandering with us.
St. Peter’s Lions Club Marina, has all the “things.” Multiple showers with hot water. Diesel. Inexpensive washing machines and dryers($2 Canadian). Change available in the office. Ice. The Lion’s Club also has a music hall just up the hill and seems to be involved in numerous projects and events. A town with a grocery is about a five or ten minute walk away. Liquor store, ice cream, Canadian staple- Tim Horton’s, independent coffee shop, The Farmer’s Pantry, a well-stocked hardware store, and a few casual restaurants nearby. Helpful staff. Gerry, as well as others, he offered, would take us to Point Hawksbury or even to Sydney or Halifax to pick up a car rental for the cost of gasoline. We eventually decided against this, preferring to relax and see only what we could by boat, dinghy, kayak or foot. Note to travelers: make your car reservations well in advance!
We arrived on a Wednesday and noticed the sign proclaiming live music from Cape Breton every Wednesday. That was separate from the music jam in the upstairs community room on Thursdays. We hurriedly assembled some hummus, veggies, cheese and crackers, pulling our chairs out of their storage location- the shower. Music! Bubbly! Justification for those beach chairs we searched out and carried from Jamestown, anticipating just this moment. This point cannot be understated, as space is at a premium on a boat. Each item must fulfill its purpose or go. Therein also lies the saying that “on a sailboat there are no passengers.” That is a joke. Sort of.
We relaxed, Lesley, another Salty Dawger, nearby, also tapping or clapping out the beat. I unfortunately did not have the wherewithal to record the artists, several were well known. All were talented and moving as they sang their great love for Cape Breton with one song poking a little at people who live here only during the balmier summer months. The weightier, wistful song, “Snowbird,” written by Gene MacLellan, made famous by Anne Murray comes to mind. We fell under the music’s spell, while reserving a little American skepticism. If this place is so amazing, why are there so many songs selling it so hard?
“Spread your tiny wings and fly away
And take the snow back with you where it came from on that day
The one I love forever is untrue
And if I could, you know that I would fly away with you.”
We also chuckled at the distance between the performers who were set up at the base of the hill, water providing a backdrop. As latecomers, we set up off to the side towards the back. We figure the first people who set up their chairs decided to sit way up on the hill, hundreds of feet from the musicians. The Nova Scotians, unfailingly polite, kept sitting further back as to not sit in front of anyone else.
As the music ended promptly around 8 pm, we decided to stretch our legs and walk into town. We found Louie’s Cosy Corner, a slice of life harkening back to perhaps the 1950’s. Oilcloth covered the tables. A dusty piano and some fiddles in cases waited atop the piano, a stack of music nearby. A couple sat in one corner, eventually engaging in a lively conversation with a solo diner at the table nearest to us, a man who had returned “home” to buy some land. The woman of the couple recognized the guy from more than 40 years ago in high school and so the conversation went, years of small town catching up for our inquisitive ears. Another large party, two families, ended their dinner abruptly over an argument that appeared to have started before we arrived.
Our young waitress, also a St. Peter’s native, took it all in with good humor as she capably handled our orders and began closing down for the evening. She paused long enough to explain that she is staying put because of her love of the land and for her family, particularly her grandparents. The haddock was fresh, crisply fried, accompanied by baked potatoes and squash. A very plain menu, but still tasty and filling. We learned during our tour around Lunenburg that Nova Scotians take the quality of their seafood very seriously.
The next morning, refreshed, we stretched our legs, hiking through town, along the canal and up the hill to the ruins of Fort Dorchester, back down to the Jerome Point Lighthouse by Pince Nez Beach, crossing the canal and stopping in town to sample the local ice cream. Joe and I found some handfuls of low-bush blueberries, tasty but not the containers I envisioned filling. We read a little of the history and about the workings of the canal, watching another Salty Dawg boat arrive.
St. Peter’s is located on the isthmus that connects the Bras d’Or Lake(St. Peter’s Inlet) to the Atlantic Ocean(St. Peter’s Bay). A portage road was thought to have been established by a French trader in 1650, but the Mi’kmaq people had long used this route. The canal took 15 years to build. It was completed in 1869. A 66 ft high hill through which the canal passes comprised of solid granite considerably slowed construction. It is a unique canal, the only one in North America to use double gates, forming a diamond shape when closed. These doors work, regardless of which side of the waterway is higher. The tidal difference can be up to 4.5 feet and the lock raises or lowers the boat. When closed, the gates form a “v,” with the point of the “v” pointing upstream.
The lock is 300 feet long and can handle boats up to 47 feet wide with a draft of 16 feet. Adiona is 42 feet long, as a point of reference. Power lines overhead limit vertical height to 100 feet, 80 feet or less being wiser because electric lines have been known to arc, as one of the larger boats on our rally realized, turning back towards Maine when they drew close. Our mast is 60 feet above the waterline. Since WWII, the lock has primarily served pleasure boats between May and the end of October. After you pass through the canal, you immediately pass through a swing bridge that the friendly canal operators control.
The hill where we found the ruins of Fort Dorchester is locally known as Mount Grenville. The vantage point is thought to have been used as a lookout for the Mi’kmaq and French but the fort dates from 1793-94, during the French Revolution. The British Lieutenant Governor felt that the Acadians of Isle Madame might rise up, necessitating a stronghold. Now, it is a beautiful spot to look out into the harbor, the pastoral village featuring brightly colored roofs and several steeples, dotted with trees, across the immense blue of the water.
We made it back just in time to join the happy hour and dinner generously hosted by Gerry and local Lions Club friends. There we also met Paul Jamieson, our host in Baddeck and owner of CBI sailing tours. Paul gave the Salty Dawgs a hearty welcome as well as descriptions of just a few of the tucked away anchorages on Lake Bras d’Or. He invited us to a Kitchen Party at his house the next week. Stay tuned for more!
The next day was all business, after another long night of sleep. We found we were tired after all these long days and overnights! Some of our group departed. Most of the rest met for a small, friendly happy hour on the pier. We were getting to know each other.
On the 29th, we finally left the pier after coffee and croissant(Joe) and an old-fashioned molasses cookie for me at the Farmers Pantry. We sailed towards the main part of the lake, winds 14-20 knots, gusting to 22 knots. Our first views took our breath away as we wound our way through the narrow channel lined with stands of deciduous and evergreens trees. The air was full of the piney scent mixed with the freshness of water.
A few hours later, Joe and I sat on the cabin top, relaxing into our cushions that Joe had set up so we could get a good view of the setting sun. The warmth beat down on us, a pleasant feeling, while the light breeze cooled us and kept some of the voracious mosquitoes at bay. A kingfisher landed on the mast above our heads, while we watched other kingfishers and an eagle swoop from the nearby trees into the water below on their last fishing expedition of the day. We tucked into a little cove off Alick Island, deciding not to join the most of the rest of the group. Whitecaps faced us on the main part of the lake. We swam, sunbathed, grilled corn and haddock, which I topped with blueberry- shiitake coulis.
The next morning, waters calmer, we shifted 2nm where Caricoa and Godspeed were anchored. Fellow rally members Chris and Fiona on Caricoa invited us for a delicious Greek salad and homemade bread baked that morning by Karen on Godspeed. We joyfully reunited with Karen and Noel, more friends from Fort Pierce. We met them only briefly after they sailed from the Ragged Islands and left their boat hastily, responding to a family situation. It was wonderful to see them again and hear that things were going well.
After lunch, we dinghied to Chapel Island, guests of the Mi’kmaq, as they celebrated the Procession of St. Anne. On Saturday, Fiona and Karen observed the washing of the statue of St. Anne, the grandmother of Mary and patron saint of the Mi’kmaq. The cloth or shroud used to cover and wash Anne was torn into strips that many of the women wore around their ankles for the year- some longer- as a few women wore as many as three strips of cloth. The Catholic celebration of St. Anne dates to the conversion of Mi'kmaq Grand Chief Membertou in 1610, according to some sources and to the date 1742 by others. The year 1742, Father Maillard said his first Catholic mass on Mniku or Chapel Island. The land has been a holy and council gathering site for hundreds, if not thousands of years.
Thousands of Mi’kmaq gathered, in all kinds of dress. Some women wore traditional ribbon skirts they had sewn and men in business attire wore native headdress. Teenagers wore the latest casual fashions; more than a few sported t-shirts with names of rappers, designers or anti-racism statements. There were people dressed for a picnic or the camping weekend it was. Young girls making their communion dressed beautifully in white. Hundreds of people actively participated in the mass; others gathered with friends or family, a time for celebrating and catching up with one another. People came and went from the mass and as we walked by the small buildings that many people stayed in, dotting the shoreline, between the dinghy dock and the church, delicious smells arose as people barbecued and visited with one another.
The mood was joyful yet reverent. The priest spoke of the importance and sacred love of grandmother Anne and the extended family for supporting Mary, as she bravely brought Jesus into this world and provided a loving upbringing for this man who then embodied eternal love. Parallels were drawn to the strong family culture of the people gathered. After the service concluded, the decorated statue of St. Anne was carried in procession to near the stone basin where a ceremony began in Mi’kmaq.
We returned to our boats, honored to have a tiny window into the traditions and the celebrations of the Mi’kmaq. The next day, Fiona, Chris, Joe and I spent some time swimming, meeting in the middle between our boats. Caricoa and Adiona headed off to Baddeck, Godspeed to other parts of the lake, hoping to spend more time together before the summer cruising season on Bras s’Or Lake draws to an end.
