'Tis Lies, All Lies...
Story and Photos by Richard Hayes
...that you hear about Sandbanks Park in Burgeo, Newfoundland.
Supposedly a world class sea kayaking destination, the waters around Burgeo
aren't really all they're cracked up to be. I mean, how many miles and miles
of dust-fine sand beaches, with little islands just offshore you can camp on
all by yourself, can you see before it starts to pall? Who wants to paddle along
all day, absolutely on your own, with nary another kayak, a nearby speedboat
or even a dory in sight? You do see the occasional local zipping along on the
horizon, so far off you can barely hear his motor as he heads out to jig a fish
for supper.
There are no nice shoreside properties to view with envy, no convenient signs
advising you where you can and cannot land. And there are no jetskis throwing
those lovely high water plumes behind them while creating those wakes we all
find so challanging... In fact, there's not much at all there, save for several
lifetimes of places you could plausibly paddle and camp without seeing another
soul, afloat or afoot, which is all right, I suppose, if you like that kind
of thing. If you venture around the headland that separates the park from Burgeo
Harbour, you get a shock - no sand, just rocky headlands, channels, tickles
and leads defining the small interconnected islands that form the harbour. The
houses aren't arranged in neat geometrically correct streets like they are in
any civilized community; brightly painted, they look like they were blasted
into the landscape with a wide choke shotgun.
Tiny gardens can be found
wherever a little topsoil has managed to lodge in the cracks between the rock
outcrops that the narrow streets snake thru and around.
'Tis Lies, All Lies...
If the wind is onshore,
of course, all this area gets rough - that's the Gulf of St. Lawrence out there,
beyond the vista you see in any direction... seascape, with small rocky tree-speckled
offshore islands receding from the foreground into the sea mist hovering on
the horizon. Then you'll probably find yourself paddling the Aaron's Arm run,
along the sheltered inside passage that winds behind those long sandy beaches.
After putting in near the water treatment plant, you wend your way thru a narrow
flagged channel created in the late 1800's, when the locals dug connecting canals
between several ponds. Over the years, the tides have gradually scooped out
the original canals and small ponds to form the channel, which goes almost dry
at low tide.
Along the shores, the shallows attract far too many wading birds - I mean, one
or two Greater Yellowlegs, or a sandpiper or two, are OK, but flock after flock
of them, just feet away from your 'yak... really, it's overkill, isn't it? Then
there's the hassle of identifying all the odd birds that frequent the area -
since the area is located so far out on the southern extremity of the island,
all sorts of birds that have no business being here insist on being where they
have no business being. Imagine having your day disturbed by seeing not one,
but several, Greater Cormorants, skidding along a few paddle lengths away as
they start skipping their way into the air. And there are still those two or
three unknowns, the ones that moved too quickly to get a good look at 'em...
And those two park wardens were something else - just because they have about
20 years of paddling those waters behind them, and know every nook and cranny
of the land they grew up on like the back of their hands, they seem to feel
entitled to share their knowledge with you at the drop of a hat! They'll go
on endlessly about launching spots, takeouts, isolated camping spots, how to
follow the flagged channels, birds, animals, plants, where to go and what to
avoid. They even go so far as to update the forecasts, including wind speed
and direction, on the marker board you can see thru the window of the park's
main entrance checkpoint.
The 150 km. drive from the TCH to Burgeo is boredom itself. Really, who wants
to spend almost two hours watching the steeply folded boreal forest that lines
both sides of the upper end yield slowly to seemingly endless stretches of rocky
tundra as the coast comes closer, and the last of the flat-topped solid volcanic
rock Anniopscotch Mountains loom all along one side of the road?
Nah, it's not worth the
time and trouble to paddle Sandbanks - we'll probably go back again next year,
anyway, just to remind ourselves of how badly overblown this place's reputation
really is. We might spend a few days, or a week or so, debunking the myths about
solo camping on those little islands with the sandy beaches, poke around the
channel for a few days to sort out those miserably confusing wading birds, walk
the calluses off the soles of our bare feet during long walks on those miles-long
sandy beaches, see if the perfect fresh cod I had with the Highway Diner's fish
and chips wasn't just a fluke.
'Tis Lies, All Lies...
Anyway, spread the word
- Sandbanks isn't what it's cracked up to be - Mainland and American paddlers
are, in all fairness, advised that they'd do better to go elsewhere, somewhere
that has more than endless waters, stunning scenery, an incredible diversity
of bird life, friendly locals and a place utterly unlike any other on earth
to offer.
Consider yourselves warned.
Malolo Haulout
Story and photos by Donna and Howard Ray
The plan was to haul out at the high tide Saturday morning. We were going to
do it in "private", but since a bunch of our friends were interested
in watching the event, we decided to make it a party event instead (seems to
be a lot of that around here). About 15 people showed up, all offering advice
and assistance, of course.
We slid the cradle down the rails as planned, drove Malolo into position and
had everything ready for when the tow truck (our pulling power) showed up. We
connected the cable to the cradle and started pulling. All went according to
plan until the boat started coming out of the water and we could see that the
blocking under the keel had to be adjusted because the boat was listing to port
(something to do with a bowline attached to the wharf when we started pulling,
it seems). It actually was pretty good considering that the "fit"
was total guesswork based on examaning pictures of the hull taken when she was
out of the water (I had no
measurements). We decided to leave her until the tide went out some more, fix
up the blocking then get the tow truck back.
It was a beautiful day so Donna brought the pot of chili down to the wharf and
everyone had a good time chowing down, drinking a few beers and watching the
tide (we know how to have some excitement down here, eh?). We fixed up the blocking,
called the truck back and were ready to go. Only problem was, the tow
truck couldn't get the boat to move. She had "frozen" to the rails.
The truck was sliding backwards so we tied it off to a tree (rope and tackle
courtesy of MMD). Then the chain started to stretch (I've never seen chain stretch
before, but it was quite interesting) and finally a snatch block blew apart
with half of it hitting Kendall (the tow trucker) in the gut. Fortunately Kendall
is a large man and no real damage was done (other than a huge welt which he
proudly showed us the next day, but I'm getting ahead of myself).
We were out of options for Saturday afternoon, so Kendall said that he would
return at 8am Sunday with "Big Red" (which was the truck they were
supposed to bring in the first place, but she wouldn't start). With nothing
more that could be done, what else to do but retire to the pub. Off we went.
Sunday morning a bunch of friends showed up with a big breakfast of smoked salmon
and french toast, Kendall showed up with Big Red (and the small truck, just
in case) and we went back to work. After some moaning, groaning and sliding
she started to come up the tracks. All was well for about 20' and then Donna
noticed that the starboard aft arm of the cradle was starting to buckle. STOPPPPPPP!
Fortunately I had bought a couple of tall jackstands to brace the stern once
she was in position and we quickly put those in place. The boat was out of the
water for any normal tide, but a high tide with a nor'easter (which blows up
our cove) would have waves hitting her keel. Hmmmmm.....
Someone came up with the idea of calling Snyder's Shipyard (a local big boat
builder/repair yard) so the calls went out. Within an hour (on a Sunday morning!)
Phillip Snyder and his yard manager Wade showed up to have a look. They felt
that Malolo was braced sufficiently to sit where she was until Monday when they
would send a couple of guys down to shore her up so that we could pull her up
some more. The encouraging part was that both Phillip and Wade said that the
whole system was really quite good and that the fit was excellent for a first
try "guess". They made a couple of suggestions for next year, but
overall thought they we were in good shape in spite of our problems.
Monday morning at 8:30 the Snyder's truck pulled in with a couple of 6x6's and
some 2x10's and the boys went to work. While all this was going on, Phillip
Snyder came down to see how things were going and we had a good gam for about
an hour about boats, boatbuilding and his experiences. A couple of hours later
and she was all braced up, better than before. A call to the local welder got
him down to weld braces to the cradle to prevent the wooden supports from tipping
backwards and we were ready to try again.
Called Kendall to get him and Big Red back and by 2:30 Malolo was hauled up
safely and ready for the winter. Michael Mason is coming over later in the week
to take some measurements and see if we can figure out the tacking problem and
make some adjustments, then we'll build a cover over her for the winter.
Not quite the haulout we expected, but what the heck. The bad news is that instead
of a quick and cheap haulout this will probably end up costing as much as a
marina (with the 4 tow truck visits, Snyder's and the welder). The good news
is that we're in good shape for future years and now, since I've made friends
with Phillip, instead of just slowing down to see what's going on at Snyder's
I can stop and pop by for a visit and a firsthand look!
Restoring Tully Mars
By Ryerson Clark
Tully Mars is a 15 foot camp cruiser with leeboards, a balanced lug sail and
room for two to sleep aboard under a tent. He was designed and built by Annie
and myself and launched in 1991. After three years out of the water, time for
a refit.
A survey shows he needs bottom work, new gunnels, deck refinishing with cloth/epoxy
and general cleaning up and minor repairs to gear. Work has begun on the "indoor"
stuff. The mast, a very beautiful black spruce stick, has been scraped down
to the wood and ready for finish. Same goes for the tiller.
Over the next few months all the painted parts, rudder, leeboards etc will get
cleaned up, sanded and ready for the arrival of good weather to paint outside.
The boat is basicly very sound and over the years has carried us in good, and
rough conditions over much of Nova Scotia's waterways without incident.
Plans are in the first stages to explore Mahone Bay this summer sailing from
B&B to Inns in the towns and villages along this scenic, protected bay.
Updates in the next few issues with a relaunch party in the spring TBA.
News and Letters
Laura Brown write this great news about a new Light Schooner!
"Construction began last fall on a new light schooner for competition in
the Wooden Boat Festival. Captain Larry Brown and his family finally turned
talk into action! "Spirit of Mahone" will have a new sister ship this
year.
The project began with the building of a staging area in Larry's back yard at
his home in Miller Place, Long Island. The family admits that Larry has put
in the most work to date. However, everyone is planning to pitch in more when
the weather gets better. Construction is on hold for the winter. No pictures
yet, but we'll send
some along as work progresses. The critical test will be whether or not she
floats. We'll find out - and let you all know - later this spring.
And, yes, we do have a name for her...but you'll have to wait until July to
find out!"
- Laura Brown, first mate
Membership Report
As of publication of this issue, SWBANS has 38 paid members for 2006. Our past
highest membership for a single year has been 78, our lowest, 21 people.
If the past is a guide, we should get about another half dozen members in the
next few months. There are some past members who have indicated will renew but
just haven't done so yet.
New Years Day Paddle
By Robert Fraser
Hey it's a new year ;; Knew you were asking for material for the newsletter;
I was waiting for these photos which I am forwarding to you.
Nothing really worth publishing (but maybe the one of the big canoe (20' Chestnut).
Six people paddled the canoe to Halifax; three of us went in kayaks. Had some
spiked coffee at Perks and a good paddle all around.