Are We in Narnia?
We’ve been to hundreds of harbors in our cruising lives, but this was hands-down the prettiest place we’ve ever been.
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We’ve been to hundreds of harbors in our cruising lives, but this was hands-down the prettiest place we’ve ever been.
While he might not have figured out the meaning of the Newfoundland harbor’s name, Ben Zartman he did have ample opportunity to ponder life’s greatest treasures.
It may be that we never make it this far east again, but it’s a rare treat to have done so, and the easternmost city in North America is a fine place to have been.
Word seems to spead quickly in these parts, and every few minutes someone else would be brought in to see the people with three little girls off the sailboat everyone had seen anchored out.
To the very end, I think, we did our utmost toward the big transatlantic plan.
The Zartman family stop in St. Pierre, their last layover before a big jump across the pond.
We had arrived in Canso with a slight feeling of urgency. Originally we had hoped to be sailing across the Laurentian Trough toward St. Pierre and Miquelon, just off the south coast of Newfoundland, on the longest day of the year; instead, several days after the solstice we were still on the wrong side of Cape Breton Island, and there was squirrely weather on the way.
These are now the longest days of the year, and up here at 45 degrees north latitude, halfway from equator to pole, there’s daylight in plenty. A good thing, too, since we were trying to make good time east along the coast.
This was seafaring at it’s finest—rising wind, pea-soup fog, some horror called “Bear Rock” under our lee, and closing fast with a rock-bound shore using a chart drawn before the war of 1812.
Lunenburg proved everything we could wish in the way of amenities: Two grocery stores, a big hardware store, Laundromat, library, free public WiFi, and plenty of dinghy dockage.
As the Zartman family makes their way up the coast of Nova Scotia, everything seems tropical—except for the temperature.
After a blustery stay in Provincetown, Massachusetts, the Zartman family has an uneventful crossing to Nova Scotia—and experiences some Canadian hospitality on the way.
We’ve been to hundreds of harbors in our cruising lives, but this was hands-down the prettiest place we’ve ever been.
While he might not have figured out the meaning of the Newfoundland harbor’s name, Ben Zartman he did have ample opportunity to ponder life’s greatest treasures.
It may be that we never make it this far east again, but it’s a rare treat to have done so, and the easternmost city in North America is a fine place to have been.
Word seems to spead quickly in these parts, and every few minutes someone else would be brought in to see the people with three little girls off the sailboat everyone had seen anchored out.
To the very end, I think, we did our utmost toward the big transatlantic plan.
The Zartman family stop in St. Pierre, their last layover before a big jump across the pond.
We had arrived in Canso with a slight feeling of urgency. Originally we had hoped to be sailing across the Laurentian Trough toward St. Pierre and Miquelon, just off the south coast of Newfoundland, on the longest day of the year; instead, several days after the solstice we were still on the wrong side of Cape Breton Island, and there was squirrely weather on the way.
These are now the longest days of the year, and up here at 45 degrees north latitude, halfway from equator to pole, there’s daylight in plenty. A good thing, too, since we were trying to make good time east along the coast.
This was seafaring at it’s finest—rising wind, pea-soup fog, some horror called “Bear Rock” under our lee, and closing fast with a rock-bound shore using a chart drawn before the war of 1812.
Lunenburg proved everything we could wish in the way of amenities: Two grocery stores, a big hardware store, Laundromat, library, free public WiFi, and plenty of dinghy dockage.
As the Zartman family makes their way up the coast of Nova Scotia, everything seems tropical—except for the temperature.
After a blustery stay in Provincetown, Massachusetts, the Zartman family has an uneventful crossing to Nova Scotia—and experiences some Canadian hospitality on the way.
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