Gettin' the lead out

I haven't been doing much paddling as I've been burdened with a major home project.  However, last week I realized I was missing too much of the good stuff so I paid someone.  But, I had been busy with related work for several weeks, I figured I deserved a reward.

I checked the forecast which looked promising for Friday and Saturday.  I looked at the maps and picked a spot I've thought about visiting.  It was LaManche, the site of a resettled community and the nearby abandoned lead ore mine.  I had hiked into the site on a geology field trip over 30 years ago with my class.  This time I was going alone.

On a bright sunny morning I drove the 100 kms to Fairhaven where I put in.  The anticipation of a second solo kayak camp trip was tangible.

I could hardly contain myself with the feeling of freedom, and independence, as I paddled my way out of Fairhaven and reached ...

... Fairhaven Point, Fairhaven Island and the view north along the coast.

At Tickle Point I saw my first eagle.  It took to flight trying possibly to lead me away from a nest.  Little did it know I was going in that direction anyway.  Further all along the coast I saw more eagles than you can shake a stick at ;) ;).  They are such majestic birds!

The sun and cloud was giving way to overcast skies.

An hour later I approached Shag Roost, a cluster of little islands.

As I paddled north I was paddling into the gaping jaws of Great Pinchgut but first I decided to go into its nearby small cousin, Little Pinchgut *lol*.  I wanted to have a look to determine its suitability for camping, which it is.

I'm not a botanist though I can identify many flowers but I'm not sure on this one.  I think its a petunia but ??? as its growing in the wild.  I couldn't pass up a shot of attraction in all the grass around it.

I entered Great Pinchgut, a wide open expanse of water three kms wide across its mouth.  I didn't do a crossing and paddled past Hollis Cove and Murphy Cove before deciding to stop in this cove as it was lunch time.  Another Paddle Newfoundland and Labrador trip report names this Mine Cove but its not shown on the topo.  Nevertheless, today it was mine to ...

... to climb up on high for a fine perch to enjoy the view while eating.

The paddle along the shoreline of Great Pinchgut was 5 kms.  A crossing would have been 3 but no lunch.  Back in the boat I passed Pinchgut Point to look into Pumbly Cove and the shoreline towards LaManche.

The day that started out sunny with clouds went gradually south to overcast and as I passed Brennan Point leaving Pumbly Cove it started to peck rain.  Before long it became a downpour and began to blow a bit.  I intended to paddle into Little Harbour East but could barely see the community of Little Harbour East in the rain so I decided to bypass it.

At this point I might have been justified to say "drats" but that's not me.  From here on I was making lemonade.

Past Little Harbour East I spotted a beach near Salls Island.  I had to answer the call of nature and though it might be an idea to catch a break before finishing the final 6 kms into LaManche which would be into the wind.

In La Manche Bay I met and chatted with a local fisherman looking for mackerel.  He said he saw me working to get across the mouth of Little Harbour.  I said it wasn't so bad.  Of course the conversation then turned to, in his eyes, my unconventional vessel.  I tried to sell him on its finer points (it is a Nordkapp!!!) but I don't expect he'll be buying.  It was nice to talk to him and after 5 minutes or so I shoved off to complete my paddle into La Manche, here just going by the shoreline expression of the old mine next to the resettled community.

The rain eased up a bit.  It would all turn out A OK.

Here are the breadcrumbs.  A good day's paddle of 30 kms.

Supper was going to taste very good but first I had to get a tarp and the tent up.

A night with the hot women of Trinny Cove

Eight years ago I participated in  beach clean-up in Trinny Cove with Barb, Graham and Peter.  I was immediately struck with the potential it had as a camping destination.

Last May Brian, Dean, Terry and I paddled in the area and camped there but couldn't get into the pond behind the cobble bar because we arrived at low tide.  There wasn't enough water to get the boats up in the ankle deep water.

Last week Hazen proposed a paddle in Chance Cove which is a 100 km drive.  I'm not fussy about long drives to paddle and said so to my wife.  She suggested I camp somewhere overnight and split the driving over two days.  That was the green light and I instantly decided on Trinny Cove.

 
After a wonderful paddle with sea stacks in the Chance Cove area I drove the short distance to Fairhaven.  There was no wind at Chance Cove but when I arrived at Fairhaven a bit of a breeze was blowing in the harbour.  I wasn't deterred so I loaded my kayak and ...

... set off out of the harbour.

There was just a little lop with the occasional one lopping over the spray skirt.  With the kayak fully loaded she rode the small wind waves like a trusty steed.  I was feeling pretty good and pleased with my plan, particularly so when I ...

... spotted a large rock on top of the hill in front of me an hour out of Fairhaven.  I recognized it as I had climbed there last year and knew I had made good progress in spite of the breeze.

The kicker to the whole plan were the tide tables.  This year, on this day, the tide cooperated to allow me access to the pond upon arrival and would not trap me in the morning.  I paddled into the pond and ...

... landed at the far south end where I had the most protection from anticipated SE winds overnight and into the morning.

I had camped once before by myself after a trip to Keels to paddle among a fleet of icebergs but then I camped in a provincial park with people occupying other campsites.  This time I was alone practically in the middle of nowhere.  I wanted to find out how that would feel without sticking my neck out too far.

I got out of my reeking drysuit and put on a dry set of clothes.  I was beside myself with the giddy feeling of being here and the beautiful weather.  A light breeze continued to blow over the bay but I pitched my tent on the flat area behind and under the protection of the heaped up cobble beach so I didn't feel it.

I did a bit of beachcombing and picked up this fish tub that served both as kitchen and bar.  There was no one else around but I still held out hope that the women of Trinny Cove might drop by for a social. *lol*

The only regret I had as I was setting up was that I had arrived a bit later than I wanted to.  It was after 3:00 when we finished at Chance Cove so I arrived at Fairhaven 4:00ish and a speedy stowing of gear had me on the water by 4:30.  An hour later I was here but I felt a little rushed to get supper etc.  I would have enjoyed a bit more time in camp before the evening set in.

Finished supper I surveyed my supply of wood for my planned campfire.  There was no need to collect wood.  I could start my fire anywhere along the beach and just feed the fire directly from the wood laying about.  There was enough for a month or more of nightly fires.

I had no trouble starting the fire using tufts of dry grass.

I had a beautiful sunset.  The moon came out.  I was happy with how things were going and how I felt.  No question, I am not an island.  I very much enjoy the company of my kayak camping friends but this I wanted to do solo so I hope my friends didn't take it as a snub.

Confession to make here.  I let the fire start to get a little out of hand with sparks setting some the the nearby dry grass on fire.  I stomped that out and prodded the burning logs further away.  Had it gotten completely out of hand the wind would have driven the fire down the length of the beach consuming the wood as it went.  I had to restrain myself to keep the fire contained.  Nevertheless, there was good heat from the flames as it got colder with the setting of the sun.

It got darker so I scaled back putting bigger logs on the fire.  I was getting tired and didn't want to stay up much longer to watch the fire burn out so I just fed it smaller wood.

With the fire burned out I toddled off to bed.  It was cool in the open air but comfortable inside the tent.  Snug as a bug in a rug as I lay in my sleeping bag I reflected on the day.  It was a good thing I had concocted.

As far as the women were concerned, I was almost 100 years too late staying here.  Trinny Cove was sporadically settled since 1836 with the maximum population of 29 souls reached in 1901 and no census data for 1935 and beyond.  But, it made for a catchy title for this posting.

Looking for the monks of Iona - Chapter 5

Monday morning, day 3 of our Victoria Day long weekend trip, dawned sunny and bright.  The forecast was for wind out of the northeast which would be in our faces for the return to civilization.

We exited the sheltered Trinny Cove and headed north into the wind.  The wind whistled in my ears and the kayak ...

... slammed down as it climbed over the waves.

As we approached Red Cove Head we knew there would be an opportunity to find shelter and ...

... catch our breath.

We hopped up the coastline sheltering out of the wind where we could until we caught sight of Fairhaven Island at the entrance to Fairhaven.

Our takeout was over two kms into the distance with no protection from the wind.  It became a process of looking ahead for coastal features, paddle to it and then the next objective.

My strategy is to just paddle without concentrating on the destination.  I took one final picture because every time I took out the camera I fell off the back of the group and had to paddle hard to catch up.  By concentrating on just paddling we eventually arrived back at the ...

... slipway in Fairhaven.  It was a bit of work for sure but we were well positioned for the forecast only 6 kms from Fairhaven.  Checking my GPS afterwards showed we made a respectable average of 5 kms/hr into the wind.

We didn't find any traces of monks at Iona.  Maybe we were in the wrong Iona Islands?  Maybe we would have had better luck paddling in Scotland?  No matter, it was an excellent three day trip and there's no harm in a bit of fantasy to make a trip interesting.

Looking for the monks of Iona - Chapter 2

At the end of Chapter 1 our group of intrepid mariners in our long boats had stopped for lunch near Corbin Head.   Luckily for the monks of Iona we were not Vikings bent on plunder.

We got underway again.  As we did the Grassy Islands came into view floating on the calm sea.

The sea bottom was visible in the clear water illuminated by brilliant sunshine while Brian and Terry float on the surface.

Beyond Cove Nan Drioch-Clochan (surely its Scottish) Point, Burke Island looked like a camel with its distinctive humps.

At St. Croix Point paddling through a cleft in the rocks put us in ...

... the mouth of Long Harbour.  A 3.5 km crossing interrupted half way by the twosome "Shag Rocks".  One can imagine, given the name, what would happen it these were encountered in foggy weather, in a storm.

From the mouth of Long Harbour we could see our progress down the coast as we had passed Long Island and Red Island came up on our starboard side.

Having crossed the entrance to Long Harbour we continued our paddle along the shore.

A slight detour (mea culpa) intervened but just after 3:30 we were in Big Seal Cove where we established camp for the night.

The carnivores had steak to BBQ so one of the first tasks on our arrival was to start a fire to make coals for the BBQ.  I had salmon baked in tin foil.

After super was finished we could grow the fire so we piled bigger logs onto the coals.  It was going to be cold when the sun ...

... set, so it had to be big ...

... to keep us warm under a ...

... clear sky filled with stars and the planet Venus (best seen by clicking on the photo to enlarge).

So, that was our first day in search of the monks of Iona.  The next day we would be on our way out to the island.