Back to Stella Main Page

“Because it’s hard…..” - Petit Passage, Nova Scotia, Thom Perkins s/v Stella, Jackson, NH

John Kennedy challenged us to do things not because they are easy but because they are hard.  Our goal was Little River, St Mary’s Bay, Nova Scotia.  We were ready to take up the challenge.  The passage to Nova Scotia can be hard, hairy and harsh.  Denise and I have wanted to do this passage for years and this was the summer to go.  While not a huge ocean voyage, Joshua Slocum, the first man to sail alone around the world (in the 1890’s) respected the waters in the area that we were going.  He grew up on Brier Island, just a few miles from our destination.  A monument to his accomplishment was something that I have wanted to see for years.  Here is how we got there.

We island hopped up the coast of Maine towards Canada for a week.  We were joined for the first week by friends Chuck and Sue and Tom and Judy on their boats “Reediculous” and “Firefox”.  We left them behind in Cutler before dawn on the sixth morning as we continued into Canadian waters catching the flood current in the Grand Manan Channel.  We cleared customs into Canada for the third time in as many years at North Head Harbor, Grand Manan, New Brunswick. 

Up in the big tides of the Bay of Fundy, timing is important.  Our plan was to ride the outgoing tide from Grand Manan to Petit Passage on Digby Neck.  From there we would ride the incoming tide up St Mary’s Bay to Little River.  Thirty-two miles of open water full of fog and currents stood between us and Digby Neck.  We wanted to get to the southern end of the Passage at exactly low slack water to avoid the legendary 7 – 8 knot flow through the passage and the big rips that surround it. 

The forecast was for light southerly wind and a bit of fog.  Not so bad, we would go.  Before leaving North Head Harbor, Grand Manan, a local fisherman advised that leaving an hour to an hour and a half before high tide would be about right.  As we left the harbor the crew of the “Sarah Gay” out of Norfolk VA made a last minute decision to join us for the crossing.  It was comforting to know that another boat would be out there with us.

Stella, our 40 year old 30’ Allied Seawind ketch, had a lumpy close reach across the Bay towards Petit Passage.  The outgoing Fundy current heaped up against what became a stiff southerly breeze.  She shouldered the steep chop aside bravely but we were still in a go against the wind, waves and clock.  We had one reef in the main and the jib was reefed to 100%.  We needed to average about 5 knots.  At times the gps indicated 7.2 snotty knots over the ground.  It wasn’t patchy fog; we were crossing in 150’ visibility fog - another day of looking at unpainted sheetrock.

Stella was under the watchful eye of Fundy Traffic.  Like air traffic controllers, they keep an eye on the shipping and boat traffic over the entire bay.  They let you know when there is another boat close aboard that could spell trouble.  The Fundy Traffic operator indicated a cargo ship outbound in the shipping lane bearing down on us just as we approached the lane.  We kept track of it on our radar as well.  We did some fancy maneuvering to keep out of their way and to avoid too close an encounter.  Still, it was close.  We never got a visual on it.

Several radio conversations transpired between Stella and the Sarah Gay during the crossing to keep up the spirits.  Only a couple of times during the day did the fog thin so that we actually had a visual on the Sarah Gay even though our radar showed her within 800’ of us much of the time.

It is said that 100 billion tons of water move in and out of the Bay on each tide.  Steering a course of 158 mag across the Bay’s outgoing flush of water seemed to keep us on track towards Petit Passage.  We headed for a point ½ mile north of the gut so that the outgoing tide would sweep us down into the passage.  We didn’t want to try to climb “upstream” if we ended south of the entrance.  It proved to be a good strategy as there was a pretty good rip guarding a southern approach to the entrance within the fierce outbound current.  The fog lifted just long enough for a partial glimpse of the rips and the Boars Head Lighthouse before closing in tight again. 

The Passage is 2.1 miles from one bay to the other.  As we enter we have ½ hour before the tide changes.  Stella makes good progress through the first half of the Passage riding the current.  6 knots then 5 knots.  We’re slowing down.  It’s only ¼ mile wide and we see nothing – no boats, no land, no buoys, no life - just the grey circle 100’ from us as we sweep though.  We are tired, beat up and apprehensive.  As this is our first encounter with Petit Passage we don’t dare explore - at this point our goal became simply to cross from the Bay of Fundy to St. Mary’s Bay and not hit anything.  4 knots!  Three-quarters of the way through and we’re slowing down!  With no visibility in the Passage and having not been there before, we don’t dare risk trying to find the Tiverton breakwater for refuge.  We fear that any delay would set the rage of tide against us and that would be that.  The ground speed continues to decay.  ¼ mile to go.  I keep calculating the diminishing speed and distance to go curve and wonder if we are going to make it.  I push the throttle on Johann – our old Volvo diesel - a bit forward to see if he will give us a little more oomph.

We’re getting close to the exit - none too soon.  The tide suddenly starts reversing.  Boils of water swing Stella and our ground speed slows dramatically.  We might be in a back eddy, who knows at this point.  We are centered in the passage; we should be in the full stream.  Should we try to find the back eddy?  No let’s not chance putting Stella on the rocks.  We end up with an increasing head current as we clear the Passage but we escape before its 8 knot northbound current takes full flight.  As we exit the Passage, everything becomes calmer.  We round the headland and Stella turns northeast.  The fisherman on Grand Manan was right; the timing was perfect. 

While the sightseeing still isn’t likely in the gray, wet vista, we do have a relaxing 6 mile late afternoon sail up St Mary’s Bay with the incoming tide.  The ugly chop is gone and the waves and wind are on our stern. 

The little red light appears out of the fog at the entrance to Little River Cove at the end of the breakwater just as anticipated.  It is the first thing we have seen since the lighthouse at the entrance to Petit Passage disappeared back into the fog a couple hours ago.  We still don’t know what we’re in for in Little River.  Will there be room for our little Stella?  What kind of reception will we get? 

The entrance to the cove between the breakwater and the cliff is less than 180 feet wide.  Upon entering in zero-viz after a long, white knuckle day and not having been there before, one is temped to take immediate refuge by turning to port behind the breakwater - the first secure thing we had seen all day.  Typically with these big tides (about 7 meters in this area) we would raft up with one of the fishing boats.  However by pressing on another couple hundred feet we discover a second breakwater appearing on the port side.  Inside this breakwater we come upon a convenient floating dock with a nice ramp.  The dock is fairly short – 30’ Stella covered the entire face and then some. 

It didn’t take long (moments really) before word got out that there was an American sailboat in the cove.   We were an immediate local attraction.  In fact, no one could remember when the last one had stopped in.  Retired fisherman Forrest Boliver remembered that a seiner from Eastport stopped in sometime in the 1960’s.  And Chet Denton, a prominent member of Little River’s fishing fleet couldn’t remember seeing a U.S. sailboat in the cove before.  People were driving down to the dock to take a look.  People had their cameras out to document the occasion.  We were advised by one of the many local spectators that there was good water at any tide at the dock so we were safe to leave her secured there.  The rest of the harbor is for the small fishing fleet.  We found the harbor secure and the locals typically very friendly.  We were told, almost apologetically, that Sandy Cove just up the coast would be better protected.  But we liked Little River just fine and stayed put.  Chet noted, as he tended his trap lines in preparation for the next lobster season, that the only wind that could come to harm one would be a stiff easterly/northeasterly wind.  That kind of wind just wasn’t in the forecast.  I spent three marvelous early mornings talking with Chet about life in the area and an earlier more productive time of fishing in the bay.

Stella in Little River Cove, NS the morning after the crossing.
 

The store ½ mile up the road has more than just basic supplies as indicated in the Nova Scotia Cruising Guide.  Ice, cheerful conversation, local advice, boots, bolts and nuts, a good selection of foodstuffs, ice cream, raingear, rat traps, pet food, commercial fishing gear to outfit the local fleet, and much more can all be acquired at the Little River Trading Post.

When leaving a few days later, we are astonished to discover the beautiful and dramatic cliff faces along Digby Neck side of St Mary’s Bay.

Little River
 

Leaving Little River - Sunrise - St Mary's Bay, NS
 

Denise and Thom at the Joshua Slocum Monument, Brier Island, NS

In 26 days on Stella we covered almost 500 miles and saw many wondrous things - eagles, whales, seals, porpoises, sharks, rafts of duck, schools of bio-luminescent Comb Jellies, off-shore birds including Northern Gannets, Razor Billed Auks, Mother Carys Chickens, Fulmars, Puffins, Terns, Loons, Shearwaters – Sooty and Manx.  We also experienced the grandeur of the coast of Maine, New Brunswick and a small portion of Nova Scotia.  We saw early morning sunrises over the ocean, great sunsets, storm-clouds, rain, wind, fog, fury, blue skies and calms.   We’re going back next year.