The Journey of the Osprey: Cape Breton to Stamford

This foggy picture is of St Peters, Nova Scotia, the southern access to, and exit from, Bras d'Or Lake. The Atlantic coast of Nova Scotia is known for it's fog and treacherous rocky shoreline. However, when we cleared this point we had decent weather, sunny, good visibility, 8-10 knot winds, and 1 foot waves. None of this would last!

Not knowing what we were in for, Mom fixed us lunch, baloney sandwiches. I ate the sandwich not knowing this wouldn't be the last time I would see it.

We sailed into the Atlantic Ocean for the first time. Once we cleared the protective land to the west the waves grew, remanence of Hurricane Belle. The seas were confused. It was a real rough ride. Something broke on the mast and during the repair I got seasick. In fact, I think I got seasick just looking for the screwdriver to make the repair. That's when I got the second sighting of the baloney sandwich, as I threw up over the rail! I wasn't alone, everyone was feeling seasick.

The winds picked up and we had to make a sail change. I had to go to the bow sprit. In big waves the bow sprit was like a dunking stool. When I think of the biggest wave I have ever seen I think of this moment. I was sitting on the bow sprit bagging a sail facing aft, as we were going into the waves. I turned my head and looked over my right shoulder, then looked up...way up. Up there a wave was cresting. It was like looking up at a second floor balcony. "Oh Shit!" The wall of water broke on top of me. I have never looked up at a wave like that before or since.

We took a long tack out to sea, then a long tack back. On the return tack, we had lost a lot of visibility. We were in a the famous Nova Scotia fog. We were hoping to be able to pick up a buoy or a point of land to confirm our position but no luck. Late in the day, our dead reckoning position said it was time to tack back out to sea. At dusk, we tacked back out to sea without confirming our position.

The Nova Scotia coast is very rugged and unforgiving. There are lots of little islands (big rocks) and spits of land jutting out. I'm sure it would have been beautiful except we couldn't see a damn thing. Because the coastline is so treacherous, Nova Scotia has two lines of navigational buoys dotting the coast; the inner buoys were 4 miles apart 5 miles off shore, the outer buoys were 8 miles apart 10 miles out. We stayed on the tack out to sea all night.

The next morning, Dad took stock of the situation; sea sick crew, rough seas, difficult sailing with slow progress to windward, last fixed position more than 24 hours old, dangerous coastline and zero visibility. It could have been worse... there could have sea monsters! Dad made a truly heroic decision. Based on our latest dead reckoning position he plotted a course that brought us back to land at an angle. The thinking was that this would give us the best chance of sighting a buoy before a hitting a rock. He drew a line on the chart to a buoy, the outer buoy near Liscomb. Then he turned on the engine and powered.

We powered for hours in thick fog. The further we went, the closer to land we were, the higher the anxiety. After hours and hours of powering we saw some fishing boats. We tried to hail them with the radio as we approached them. If only they could give us a fixed position we would be alright. Just then we saw a buoy! We powered over to the buoy. On it was written one word,"Liscomb". Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. It was a miracle!

Once we had a fixed position the rest was pretty easy. We ran the outer buoys using dead reckoning. When we got close to a buoy we would go silent and listen for the bell or gong or whatever sound the buoy was making. Then on to the next buoy. We arrived at Halifax that night. The approach was foggy but the Harbor Master helped guide us in on the radio with his radar. (We had radar too, which I remember using in approaching Halifax harbor, but I can't remember using it to find the buoys. Oh well, it's been 35 years) Once we were inside the harbor the fog magically lifted and the lights of Halifax seemed like the brightest lights I had ever seen.

Halifax was a great port-o-call, giving us plenty to do and think about to forget our first encounter with the Atlantic Ocean. At this point we were getting pretty good a docking Osprey. I remember bringing our 51 foot boat in to a 25 foot berth. It was a challenge and exhilarating.

I was a fast-pitch softball pitcher in a pizza and beer league in Colorado...mostly beer. So I jumped at the chance to see the most famous softball pitcher of all time, Eddie Feigner "The King and His Court", who was playing in Halifax. Doug and I had a blast. This was just one of the many unplanned opportunities that being on this adventure provided.

One of the icons of Nova Scotia is the schooner Bluenose, the pride of the Halifax fleet around the turn of the century. It was a working fishing boat, as well as an outstanding racing boat. A replica of the Bluenose graces the harbor today.



From Halifax we took two side-trips in a rental car. One was east along the Atlantic coast to a famous fishing village and artist community, Peggy Cove.


Peggy cove was interesting and picturesque.


The other side-trip was north to the Bay of Fundy, the north coast of this part of Nova Scotia. The Bay of Fundy has the highest tides in the world. Using the same "bathtub effect" as the St Lawrence River Estuary, tides raise and lower over 50 feet, twice a day. We looked at a boat high and dry, miles from the water, knowing in a few hours the boat would be floating. The Bay of Fundy is truly unbelievable.

Our next sail was to cross the Gulf of Maine, which includes the Bay of Fundy. As water flows in and out of Bay of Fundy it creates up to 6 knots of current in the Gulf of Maine. What's more, the current goes in both directions! So how in the world were we going to account for that with our Dead Reckoning navigation? Looking at the Bay of Fundy took on a different meaning for the navigator of Osprey.



From Halifax we sailed southwest along the Nova Scotia coast. Visibility was a lot better leaving than when we arrived. We could see land most of the time. Cape Sable, the southwestern point of Nova Scotia is about 150 miles from Halifax. We sailed the first day and through the night. The next day we rounded Cape Sable and started crossing the Gulf of Maine. I was disappointed that we couldn't see the Cape. It would have been nice to get one last position fix from land before we started the crossing. On the other side of the Gulf of Maine was Mt Desert Island, Southwest Harbor, and the Hinkley shipyards where Osprey was built. It was Osprey's home port from 1959 through 1969. We were taking Osprey home.

We sailed through the night with fair winds and weather. The next day we knew exactly where we were, somewhere in the middle of the Gulf of Maine. The navigator confidently set his hand on the chart and said, "I reckon we're here." Dad practiced his celestial navigation again. Although the position was unlikely, at least it was in the ocean. We sailed on.

The question, "exactly where are we?", was becoming more important every hour. As the sunset we were closing in on the coast of Maine. Our Dead Reckoning position put us close enough to see land. We thought we had fairly good visibility, but at sea it's hard to know exactly how good. The Maine Coast has some pretty high hills that should be easy too see, but we couldn't see them. It is also jagged, dotted with lots of small islands (big rocks)...not very friendly. We weren't looking forward to a repeat of Nova Scotia. Yet still, we couldn't see land.

The yellow and pink hues of a beautiful sunset turned deep red and purple. Reluctantly, Dad went below to get some rest. His last words were, "Let me know if you see something." Within minutes we saw a flash of light off the port bow. Dad popped back on deck, breathing a sigh of relief. At first we thought it was the Mt Desert Rock light, but the flash was 10sec not 15sec. We determined that it was the Matinicus Rock Lighthouse, which can be seen for over 20 miles. We were about 30 miles south of course. Not to bad considering the tidal currants and other variables.

We plotted a new course towards Mt Desert Rock light. Through the night visibility seemed to improve and we spotted the Mt Desert Rock light, 15sec flash. Early in the morning we made our final course change toward Southwest Harbor. Osprey was heading home.



Doug and I took the watch. It was a glorious morning, a royal blue cloudless sky, and a warm 15 knot wind just forward of the beam. Protected by islands, the waves were small. Osprey cut smoothly and swiftly through the water. Like a "horse to the barn", Osprey was racing towards Southwest Harbor.

Doug and I trimmed the sails just right, and lashed the helm. Osprey was self-steering. Actually, Doug and I created an imaginary helmsman, named Fred, who was steering the boat. With Fred on the helm Doug and I were free to roam. I went below and fixed coffee and breakfast. For miles Fred steered. Doug and I enjoyed the morning, the scenery, and Osprey flying through the water. To add to the euphoria was the satisfaction of safely crossing the Gulf of Maine. I look back on this as the most enjoyable sail of my life! It was perfect!


Sailing on, we encountered an amazing number of lobster pot buoys. which presented a unexpected challenge. We arrived at Southwest Harbor around noon. From Halifax to Southwest Harbor took more than 3 days, our longest sail to date.

We anchored in the harbor, and almost immediately we started getting curious looks from passer-bys. "Osprey's Back" was the talk of the town.

Ashore, Mom went into a drug store. Looking at postcards, she noticed a postcard of Southwest Harbor featuring a boat that looked like Osprey. Taking a second look, it was Osprey! Mom bought dozens of those postcards. I was proud to be on Osprey.


The plan was to spend a couple of weeks in Southwest Harbor. Dad wanted to take advantage of the craftsmen familiar with Osprey to get some repairs done, which would take sometime. Dad met the former captain of the boat. He always disliked that postcard picture of Osprey because the bumpers were over the side when the picture was shot. Dad was told about a lady who made pies. "Pies you can heft." I believe was the selling point that carried the day. So we ate delicious pies the whole stay.



A Hinkley yatch moored in Southwest Harbor, Maine; with Acadia National Park in the background.



Acadia National Park, the first National Park east of the Mississippi, was the major attraction on the Mt Desert Island. We climbed Cadillac Mountain. The view was spectacular.

We went on other side-trips around Mt Desert Island, but the big trip, and the most unbelievable story, was when Doug and I hitchhiked to Boston.

Our plan was to stay at a cheap hotel downtown, the Carlton House. and see the historical sites of Boston. We started out early Friday morning. Boston was nearly 300 miles away. It would take all day to get there. Doug and I caught a ride out to US Hwy 1. Then another ride or two south on US 1 to Camden. Maine. It was a little slow going. Now mid-afternoon, we stuck out our thumbs again.

This time a young man in two seater Triumph pulled over and offered us a ride. Fortunately, he was going all the way to Boston. Doug and I crammed into the passanger seat, spilling on to the console stick shift. We zoomed off.

As uncomfortable as this was, what really concerned us was the driver was speeding, doing 80 mph on the two lane road. I will never forget the first words out of his mouth, "My hassle is I got to get to the Western Union Office in Boston by five. My dad is wiring some money and I need to get there before they close." It was Friday and he couldn't wait till Monday to get the money. The driver was clearly upset. Doug and I feared for our lives.

Doug and I figured there was no way we would get there by 5:00pm even if he went 90 mph. That's if we didn't have an accident first. This is where Doug proved his worth. He came up with an idea, "In the next town we come to, you could go into a bank and see if the wire could be sent to that bank." The driver thought that made sense, and he slowed down. I thought, "Agarn, I don't know why they say you're so dumb!"

The next town was Bath, Maine. The driver went into the bank and came out a few minutes later. "Can they wire the money here? we asked.

"No, but the Western Union Office in Boston is open 24 hours!" he smiled. Now that the pressure was off he turned out to be a good humored guy. The driver's name was Rick Money, about 20 years old, from Ohio. He was heading to Boston, Cambridge really, to play his guitar in Harvard Square. He had heard it was a Mecca for street musicians. Also, he said there were lots of Coffee houses with live music. He was planning to stay at the YMCA.

In the bank, he got the word about the ship building museum in town. Before we left town we went to the museum. Everybody was relaxed and having a good time. It seemed Rick could find a joke in just about everything, just like Doug and I. We made quite a trio.

"Who says I'm dumb!!!" said Agarn.

Rick got directions to the Western Union Office at the bank too. We got to Boston after dark. We exited the freeway, went one block, looked around, and there was the Western Union Office. It was that easy. Rick went inside and got his wire. The next stop was Cambridge.

We didn't have directions to Cambridge. But how hard could it be to find a whole city? We just jumped back on the freeway and off we went. The first wrong turn took us down to "Old Ironsides" the US Constitution. We found this amusing. That was the start of a series of missed turns, and incidents that had us laughing for hours.

Leaving Old Ironsides, Rick mistakenly turned the wrong way on an empty one-way street. We yelled, "Rick, this is a one way street!" Before he could turn around we drove past a police station going the wrong way on the one way street. Rick said something funny. Another missed turn took us to Fenway Park. We pulled over to ask someone directions. They reccommended we take the subway. We pondered that, "Will the car fit on the subway?" We found this hystarical. Another time we drove past a crowd of people standing on a corner. Rick stopped the car and we all got out to ask directions. By the time we got back to the corner, everyone was gone, a bus was pulling away...more laughs and jokes.

Several hours after we started our search for Cambridge, we drove over a bridge and to our surprise we saw a sign that said "Welcome to Cambridge". We drove past the YMCA. Now to find Harvard Square. We saw a group of kids. Rick pulled over, rolled down his window to ask directions. Before he got a word out, a beautiful girl leans in and says, "You guys want to go to a party." "Yeah!" Rick said. Unbeknownst to us this WAS Harvard Square! The party was a few blocks away at one of the kids houses. Although the party wasn't much, they let us stay the night.

In the morning, Doug and I said good-bye to Rick. He was an entertaining guy. Doug and I took the mass transit to Boston. We took the walking historical tour around downtown Boston and checked into the Hotel. The Carlton House gave you everything you needed in a hotel room, a door, a window, 2 beds, a bathroom, and not much else.

The next day we went back to Harvard Square to check out the street musicians and the coffee shops. Who do you think we ran into? Rick Money! We decided to go somewhere, so Doug and I piled into the Triumph again. It was like old times, missed turns, wrong way on a one way street, and more zany antics.

Later, we actually did watch the street musicians, including Rick Money. I was praticularly impressed with a pantomime act. The coffee houses were also very entertaining.

The next day Doug and I hitchhiked back to Southwest Harbor and Osprey. Mom and Dad asked, "How was your trip to Boston?"

"Oh, it was very educational."



When the repairs were finished on Osprey, we set sail. Our next port of call was Provincetown MA, on Cape Cod, about 200 miles away. The sail was fairly close to shore the whole way. Which meant we knew where we were the whole way.

Although it was uneventful there was something that made this sail memorable. I was on the helm at night. We decided to reduce sail, by dropping the main. The mainsail was big, 470 square feet of canvas. We always used two people to handle the mainsail when we dropped it. Doug did it by himself without a hitch. From that point on I knew Doug was a sailor.

Provincetown and Cape Cod were completely different landscapes from what we just experienced. It had small sand bluffs over looking the ocean. Also, there were many more tourist, boats and people. The contrast made me appreciate Nova Scotia and Maine all the more.


From Cape Cod the plan was to do a series of day sails from Massachusetts to New York. The first stop was Martha's Vineyard. We sailed through the Cape Cod Canal, Buzzards Bay, and Woods Hole. We anchored out at Vineyard Haven.

A short sail away was Block Island.



From Block Island we sailed to Mystic Seaport Connecticut. Mystic was the first amusement park we had visited in a while. Actually it was more of a historical park, but it did have a Ferry Boat ride. The approach to Mystic Harbor was a river channel with sand shoals on the sides.

We heard the Ferry Boat whistle blow twice. We figured that meant the Ferry was coming out. Doug was at the helm. He held Osprey off to the side of the narrow channel, expertly using forward and reverse to hold our position.

The ferry didn't move. After about five minutes the whistle blew again and the ferry started backing out. At this point we figured the first whistle was just signalling the tourist that they had five minutes to get on the boat ride. None the less, Doug held his position feathering forward and reverse. I checked our position against the shore and I was amazed at the steady job Doug was doing.

The ferry backed into the channel, spun around, and started down river past us. Doug gave the ferry a wide berth holding Osprey perfectly still on the side of the channel. The tourists on the ferry smiled, pointed and waived at us. We smiled and wave back proud to be on the Osprey.

After the ferry past by Doug put it in forward and gave it some gas. Osprey didn't move. A little more gas...nothing. We were aground and probably had been for the last three paragraphs. You got to wonder what the tourist were smiling and pointing at..."Look Mommy, that boat's aground!" Doug gunned it and Osprey dislodged from the sand bar.

We docked in Mystic Seaport and explored the museum and boats the next day.


Our next stop was an Essex, Connecticut. Essex is about 10 miles up the Connecticut River. It was a very quaint and picturesque town.



We tied up to the municiple dock and walked through town to quaint and picturesque Inn and had a wonderful meal ashore. Essex displayed New England charm better than any place we went.



Our last stop on the Northeastern Seaboard was Stamford, Connecticut. We stayed at one of the largest marinas in the US, Yatch Haven West. Yatch Haven had lots of boats...ambiance not so much.



Being a bedroom community, Stamford has a commuter rail to New York City. I experience the morning commute with men and women who brought their cup of coffee and newspaper on the train for the hour ride. I tried to imagine what life would be like with an hour commute each way. This was only the second time I had visited New York City.

I was going to meet Joyce in New York City for a few days. I had found a cheap hotel, the Essex Hotel. (I think it was a sister hotel with the Carlton in Boston. They must have been a chain).

I arrived at Grand Central Station; Joyce was coming in at Port Authority. I walked down to the Essex Hotel ,which was on 42nd St near Broadway. In between Grand Central and Port Authority, less than a block from Times Square, it was a great location...until dark. After dark it was scary! At night, between the hookers and the drug dealers there was barely room on the sidewalk. The Essex had a back entrance which opened on to 43rd St which didn't have any street lighting. The front was so bad we opted for the dark alley. I apologized to Joyce for choosing such a sleezy Hotel.

While in New York Joyce and I did a number of the standard tourist things. We went to Central Park, the Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty, and saw a musical on Broadway "Pippen" with Ben Vereen. We also went to Nightclub in Greenwich Village, and listened to Ron Carter Jazz Bassist.

Some people go to New York and fit in. They have street smarts. They're in rythem with the City. That's not me. I am the tourist who is gauking at the Empire State Building and a passer by asks, "Is it still there?"

Yet I had a great time. When I was in New York I felt like I was at the center of the universe. I understand why they call it the big apple. It was an exciting diversion from the sail.

The sail from Cape Breton to Stamford was noteable for several reasons. It marked the first time we had sailed in the Atlantic Ocean, or any ocean for that matter. I saw my biggest wave. We accomplished our longest voyage, the three day crossing of the Gulf of Maine. The sail into Southwest Harbor was my all time favorite sail.

Our sailing skills had improved a lot, but the Atlantic would really test our skills, and Osprey, on the next leg of the journey.