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Day 1:
After a long and exhausting ride, I stepped out
of the train and into the salty sea air of Nova Scotia. After getting my
bearings about me, I staggered into the Halifax train station, where the
First Mate Philip Cormier greeted fellow sailor Sasha Sefter and myself.
We hopped into the van and headed towards our first 'way-point', the farm.
After experiencing first hand the unique driving techniques of a German
student in Canada, we thankfully arrived safely at our destination. We were
greeted by all our fellow crewmembers and by Captain T. himself. After getting
to know all the new faces, we sat down for a nice dinner and then headed
to Feltzen South beach for some Ghost Stories from local lighthouse keeper
George. Needless to say, George's stories (and not to mention George himself)
provided us with plenty entertainment for the evening. After that it was
of to bed, dreaming of what adventures would be in store for us.
Day 2:
We woke up bright and early and after a brief lesson
on sail theory and navigation from Captain T. we loaded up the gear and
headed to Mahone Bay, where the boat was anchored. We arrived in the town
on the last day of the wooden ship festival, and it was as busy as a town
of this size can get. As we loaded our gear on the ship, we became somewhat
of a tourist attraction ourselves. My Soviet Navy uniform and the Soviet
Navy flags we hoisted drew the attention of many bystanders, and even caught
the eye of an ecstatic Russian refugee, thrilled to see a piece of her motherland
in Canada. After a quick lunch on board we set out for our 'sea trials'
so to speak, figuring out just how the boat (and the crew) functioned. After
a short while, we were actually sailing, the wind coming from the southwest
at 12-15 knots. We experienced some minimal problems then quickly got the
hang of how the boat worked. We also came to realize that the dingy could
not last half an hour without becoming partially submerged in water, and
it became my job to bail the thing out. After sailing out into Mahone Bay
we doubled back to anchor off Covey Island for the night. Some of the crew
slept on board with the Captain, and some slept in tents.
Day 3:
We woke up to a glorious sunrise and set sail for
Cross Island on light winds early in the morning. But this seemingly tranquil
day at see changed by afternoon, as the wind picked up to 30 knots from
the southwest and a fog bank was rolling in. We had to take down the foresail
and put a double reef in the main. With the strong wind came the big waves,
crashing against our boat and soaking unsuspecting crewmembers. The Strong
winds kept us from getting into the Cross Island harbour. We anchored in
the lee of the island, cold, wet, and exhausted, until a generous lobster
fisherman towed us to the wharf. As soon as we hit the shore we leaped off
the boat and made a dash for the nice warm cabin (not to mention the nearby
outhouse). After drying off and eating our dinner, we settled in the cabin
for a few rounds of Mexla, a dice game about lying, backstabbing and deceiving.
Needless to say, I came out the winner. Captain T. fell asleep on his boots
in the middle of the floor, and we took that as a signal that it was bedtime.
We all hopped into our beds for a night of crazy and enchanted dreams that
Cross Island always seems to offer.
Day 4:
Up at the crack of noon, I found myself staggering
out of bed, slightly dazed but very rested. The wind was strong and the
sky didn't look very promising so Captain T. decided on a rest day from
sailing and we set off on a hike around the island. The hike was refreshing
and there were lots of interesting things to see, like the remains of the
ship wrecked Angela Joe, lying on the rocky beach like the carcass of some
unfortunate sea beast. Actually, the carcass of some unfortunate sea beast
was another one of the sights along our hike, but I won't go into details
on that one. After stopping for lunch at the old lighthouse, we headed back
to the inlet for some clam digging. The digging was fun and educational,
as I learned how clams taste when eaten fresh…very fresh…not quite
dead yet fresh…well you get the picture. I don't want to upset any
reader's with weak stomachs. At night we played a disastrous game of mexla,
and we all went outside to clear our heads. It turned into a sort of 'scare
fest', everybody was trying to scare each other…but I think we ended
up scaring the ghosts of the island more than anybody else!
Day 5:
Boy what a scorcher! We set off rowing out of Cross
Island harbour in the immense heat, feeling like roasting lobsters. But
with our good luck the wind picked up nicely enough for us to start sailing
for Chester. We sailed past the picturesque East Ironbound and Tancook Islands,
and along the way we spotted a whale! Well, not a whale exactly, more like
a couple hefty locals in a Kayak. Oh well. Anyhow, we kept on sailing and
made it in to Chester, and after a slightly unorthodox docking attempt we
tied up headed ashore. The Captain and the First Mate made a dash for the
pub, while the rest of the crew and myself headed for Big Reds to eat dinner.
My Soviet parade uniform seemed to draw attention from the locals, and I
got many interesting looks for folks passing by. After dinner we met some
local teens and had a little 'cultural exchange' so to speak. They told
us interesting tidbits about the local lifestyle and I told them (in affected
Russian accent) about my 'motherland'.
Day 6:
After a nice breakfast of blueberry pancakes, we
waved goodbye to the friendly citizens of Chester and sailed out on a Southwest
wind to Tancook Island. After lunch on board, we anchored in Tancook harbour,
attracting the attention of the locals, who hadn't seen a Tancook schooner
like ours since before WW2! Once ashore, Captain T. led a few of us on a
short hike. The sleepy feeling of the island brought some strange spell
over us, and we all fell into a strange enchanted sleep on the warm grass
in a meadow. We woke up and headed back to the ship, feeling very refreshed.
It was then off to the infamous Oak island, the home of the mysterious 'money
pit'. We sailed in on a new Northwest wind and passed by Sheep ledge, where
we were greeted by hoards of grunting seals. We anchored by Oak Island and
a few of us went ashore to explore the money pit, marooning the rest of
the crew on the boat for some time. After dinner we went on a night hike
in an unsuccessful attempt to freak ourselves out. All I did was hurt my
freaking behind when I slipped on a rock. Later that night we went to sleep
under an eerie red moon, just waiting to hear the ghost of Captain Kidd
coming to get us!
Day 7:
It was up early in the morning and right into the
water! On account of the dropping level of hygiene and the rising level
of smell, Captain T. ordered the whole crew into the water for a wash and
a swim. After nearly achieving hypothermia in the freezing water, we dried
off and set sail for Lunenburg harbour. It was hot and sunny in the morning,
and for a long time we sat still getting tossed around by sloppy waves.
But luckily for us, the wind really picked up around 1 pm, and we were soon
back to a double reef in the mainsail and down with the foresail. The waves
also picked up between Cross Island and Eastern point, and after myself
and others were nearly flung overboard Captain T. decided to stick close
to shore to minimize the casualties. From then on it was a fast and smooth
sail into Lunenburg, and after a triumphant circle of the harbour, we found
a mooring and cleaned up the boat. We unloaded are gear and staggered ashore,
ragged, wet, and exhausted, but with a feeling of great accomplishment and
with a smile on our face. Captain T. awarded us with the prestigious 'red
hats', and we all wore them proudly into Big Reds. We were the Son of a
Gun crew, and we were not to be messed with!