Whycocomagh

I got off the boat and collapsed at a charming hostel on Cape Breton Island in Nova Scotia. I had my first shower in 11 days, and slept on land for the first time in a month. I was thrilled to be reunited with my trombone and couldn't wait to start busking again.

"Where do you think a good place would be in Whycocomagh?" I asked the hostel manager.

"Busk? In Whycocomagh? I don't think I've ever seen a busker here...?"

She looked at me doubtfully. Everyone in the hostel was looking at me doubtfully, I didn't blame them. Whycocomagh has a co op, a bakery and a population of 800.

I busked outside the co op for an hour and a half and came back with $96. Why would I busk in Toronto when I can busk in Whycocomagh?

Which Sailor Are You?

Ever wonder which sailor on the Evensong you’re most like? I thought so!

1. You haven’t been showering because:
a) There aren’t many opportunities
b) It’s too hard
c) You don’t believe in showering

2. Something is wrong with the engine, you:
a) Find the problem and fix it
b) Find a problem, then find another problem and then another. Don’t fix any of them
c) Like engines. They’re shiny

3. When tying up to a wharf you like to use:
a) As few ropes as possible.
b) 3 or 4 ropes. That’s how many a boat this size needs.
c) You’ll start with 5 ropes and add another one every time you screw up parking the boat

4. A Canadian ferry with a crane on it is at the same wharf as you, you:
a) Get up at 5.45am to take photos of it and watch it leave. You wake up everyone else and tell them ‘not to miss this very special Canadian experience'.
b) Open one eye, ask if it’s a polar bear then go back to sleep.
c) Get up. Live to regret it.

5. You like animals
a) A lot!
b) And want to know everything about them
c) As long as you don’t have to stand up to see them

6. The skipper is driving you mad because:
a) He keeps telling you how to do everything from tying a rope to killing a mosquito
b) He keeps asking “have I ever told you about my trip up to Labrador in 1979...” and then you say ‘yes’ and he tells you anyway. Again.
c) He’s not! It’s not his fault he’s always right.

7. In your free time you like to:
a) Read a book
b) Go hiking, not that you ever get the chance
c) What free time? There’s always something to do on the boat

8. You like to eat:
a) Whatever is easiest to cook. One pot only.
b) Meat and 3 veg - gotta have everything separate
c) Don’t care, as long as there’s a lot of it

9. Sailing is:
a) About the journey; discovering new places
b) The opposite of what is happening on this boat
c) About the destination. GET ME TO BLANC SABLON!!

10. There are mosquitoes everywhere, you:
a) Cover your door with a mosquito net
b) Cover yourself in vinegar
c) Diesel. Mosquitoes hate diesel.

11. When choosing a place to stop for the night, you like:
a) Mooring - it’s the quickest and easiest
b) Docking - you get to talk to all the fisherman
c) Anchoring - so you can go explore nearby deserted islands

12. To get to the next place, you think we should:
a) Motor - it’s fast and reliable
b) Sail, even if there’s no wind. It’ll pick up soon….
c) Depends on the situation

1.- a)3 b)1 c)2 -2.- a)2 b)3 c)1 -3.- a)1 b)2 c)3 -4.- a)3 b)1 c)2 -5.- a)2 b)3 c)1 -6.-a)2 b)1 c)3 -7.- a)1 b)2 c)3 -8.- a)1 b)3 c)2 -9.- a)3 b)2 a)1 -10.- a)3 b)1 c)2 -11.- a)1 b)3 c)2 -12.- a)1 b)3 c)2

12-18
You are Maya

Wow are you lazy! You want to do everything the easiest way possible. You don’t know what you’re doing, but you know you’d like to get off the boat. Now.

19-25
You are Mike

You’re active and always like to be doing something useful. You’ve been a mechanic, a carpenter, worked for the army and you’ve skinned a kangaroo, so you know how to figure stuff out for yourself. This might be your toughest adventure yet.

26-32
You are Dave

An eternal optimist, you love sailing and everything about it! You’re social, and want to share your passion for Canada with everyone. You’re lucky to be alive because your crew is plotting ways to throw your overboard.

Bud, Bud Light or Bud with Lime

Harrington Harbour. 50° 30’N, 59° 29’W, about 100 miles north of where the road end, aka, the middle of nowhere. But it had a shop and a post office, so for us, it was a metropolis.

It was Saturday night when we arrived so we decided to head for the bar. There was music coming from an old building, we headed towards it. There were a few drunk girls smoking outside the door, Dave asked if this was the bar.
“Naaaw, bar’s ov’r there see. Joost, thar ‘cross de bridge.”
We all turned to look across the stream where she was pointing. There was a little white house with a dim light coming from it. Dave looked doubtful. She was pulling his leg
“That doesn’t look like a bar to me” said Dave
“Well, dat’s it, only bar in town. This here’s de hall”
“Doesn’t look much like a bar to me” mumbled Dave, turning away.

We walked across the bridge and up to the house. It said ‘Harbourside Bar’ on the side. Well what do you know, it was a bar.

When we entered, every head turned to look at us. Granted, that was only 6 heads, but still. There were 4 middle aged men sitting at the bar and 2 younger guys playing pool - all were wearing baseball caps.

One of the guys sitting at the bar stood up when we came in and made his way slowly to the other side of the bar. Ready to serve us.

Dave walked up, feigning confidence. All eyes were on glued to the action.
The man behind the bar nodded. “What’ll it be then?”
“Ummm, what kind of beer do you have?”
“We got bud, bud light and bud with lime”

We drank our beer quietly in the corner. Just as we were about to leave, a guy from the bar came to sit with us.
“Where yous from then?” he said staring directly at me
“Australia. He’s from Norway and he’s from Nova Scotia” I answered pointing at Mike and Dave.
He nodded, but I’m not convinced he knew where all those places were.
“Ummmmm” I wasn’t sure what to say “so you’re from here?” I asked feebly.
“Yerp”
“Ohhh. Ummmm, and what do you do?”
He looked at me slightly confused, like he wasn’t exactly sure what I was asking him.
“Fishin’” he said slowly.
“Oh right” of course. What else could he possibly do here?
“If you’re not busy tonight…” he leant across the table
Dave interrupted, “we best be going now” and whisked me away.

Sailing Goggles (And How to Look Sexy on a Boat)

Goggles noun-Making people seem more attractive than they actually are.

I’ve encountered many different types of goggles in the past few years; beer goggles (what a sexy person), camp goggles (in 5 years that child will be ready to date) and even greyhound bus goggles (he said he was only an accessory to the crime - not the actual murderer).
Seeing the same 2 people day in, day out, makes sailing goggles particularly strong. Here’s how it has skewed my view of the opposite sex.

1. “He’s hot!” - he’s under 50
2. “He’s a bit of alright” - that man looks like an ape
3. “Hmmmm maybe….” - No Maya, that’s a boat

I haven’t been feeling particularly sexy in my giant, orange survival suit and army print gum boots. It was windy the other day, so I decided to take out my pony tail and let my luscious locks blow in the wind. I took out my hair tie. Nothing. The grease and dirt in my hair made it stay in the perfect pony tail - no elastic required. I remembered that I hadn’t showered in 8 days. Damn. Maybe I could take off the suit? I thought about what was beneath it. Grease covered khaki pants from the little boys department and a t shirt I’d accidentally put on backwards. Thank goodness sailing goggles work both ways.

Oops, I Think I Killed Feminism

I was always a bit of a tom boy growing up. Even now, getting me in heels and make up is like pulling teeth. I’m not a girly girl - or so I thought.

It turns out I’m really bad at sailing. I don’t understand how the wind works, I can’t read a map and I can’t reach/ am not strong enough to do a bunch of things on the boat. I’m basically fulfilling a whole lot of female stereotypes. The other thing is, I don’t like sailing all that much. I like cooking. Especially when the alternative is Dave cooking. *To see the pancakes he made with CORN FLOUR (even though we had plain AND wholemeal) look at the photo above. To taste them, warm up a brick and eat it.

My apologies to all the women before me who fought so that I could do a man’s job. I’m sorry, but I’d rather cook and clean than pull ropes and lift heavy things. I must go, my men are calling - back to the kitchen.

Disastrous Dave

Things aren’t going so well here on the boat. Dave is a sweet guy, but makes everything more difficult than it has to be. A constant stream of things have gone wrong since we left Rimouski; we got stuck in Sept Iles for a few days, left and then realised there was something wrong with the engine so had to go back. Dave’s parking is getting worse and the worse it gets, the more ropes he puts out to try and compensate - all in all, he’s a bit of a disaster

Finally, it looked like things were going our way. Mike thought so too.
“Today is going to be a good day. I can feel it.” he said the day we were leaving Sept Iles. I glared at him. What a stupid thing to say. Perhaps he was right though; the sky was blue, the sun was shining and we were gliding along flat seas at 7 knot in the right direction. It even looked like we were going to hit our spot early. 4pm - which is unheard of for us.

The bay we went to anchor in got shallow. Dave thought he could get past the shallow bit into deeper water. He was wrong. CREEAAK! The boat scraped the bottom. Dave kept his nerve. CRUUUNCH. We hit the bottom again. And again. I don’t know much about boats, but I’m pretty sure crunching sounds are bad. Dave consulted the map again and made a very quiet ‘oh’ sound. We were in the wrong bay.

We’d gone almost an hour past the bay we were aiming for. Once we got back there, Dave looked at the map again. This was definitely it. The book said to go in from the right hand side of the island., but Dave didn’t like the look of that and decided we should go in from the left.
It started getting shallow again. Creak. We hit the bottom. Dave persevered. We hit ground again, but this time we didn’t come out. The boat was stuck.

“Hard to starboard” Dave screamed at me.
It was no use. The wheel wouldn’t budge. He grabbed the wheel from me in a frenzy and tried to reverse. Nothing. We were stuck in the mud.

Dave was starting to panic now. Mike and I waited calmly for our orders.
“You two, grab the dingy and the boat hook and find us a way out of here”
“What, row?” asked Mike bewildered. The outboard motor still hadn’t been attached to the dingy.
“Yes, row!”

Mike rowed while I dipped the boat hook in the water trying to find somewhere deep enough.

Meanwhile, Dave was running around the boat trying to look in control.
“Maya” he bellowed. “I need you on deck. Come to the bow.”
Mike rowed us to the bow.
“Get on” said Dave
I looked up. It was 2 metres up to the deck with little to grab onto.
“Quick, grab my hand” he said dramatically.
I took it, unimpressed. As he hoisted me up, all I could think was ‘if you drop me into that freezing water, I will kill you and then I’ll hunt down your family’.

The 3 of us went on like this for the best part of an hour. Running around in our orange survival suits with a sense of urgency, while the sun beamed down on the glass-like, 5 feet of water below.

4 hours, and 1 bent anchor later, we arrived at our anchorage point. We came in from the right. Just like the map had said.

Fill in the Blank

Sailing has its own language. It’s a language I don’t know. Since I’ve been on this boat I’ve barely been able to understand a thing people say to me. Actually, that’s not entirely true; I understand pretty much everything except the most important words.

Below is a an example of an instruction I might get on the boat. The blanks represent all the words I don’t know or understand. I thought I’d make this into a mad libs to make things a little more interactive.

How to play:

1. Grab a friend, relative or stranger nearby and ask them to say a word for each of the blank spaces. It should be the type of word indicated in the bracket.

2.Copy and paste the passage and fill in the blanks with the words they have given you.

3. Read the story and laugh at its ridiculousness.

4. Send me a copy of the story for my own amusement.

“I’m going to show you how to _________ (verb) the _________ (noun). Can you pass me the __________ (adjective) ____________ (noun)? It’s next to the ___________ (noun, part of a car). No, not that! That’s a _________ (noun). It’s for ___________ (verb) the ___________ (noun, body part) of the boat. That won’t do us any good when we’re trying to fix the___________ (type of tree) ___________ (noun).” ___________ (proper noun, male name) sighs. He is getting impatient.

“OK. You know where the ___________ (noun, plural) are? In the drawer with the ___________ (number) by ___________ (number)’s? Yep, that’s them. Now get me a ___________ (proper noun) screwdriver and tie a ___________ (noun, animal) knot to attach the ___________ (noun) to the ___________ (adjective) rope.” More sighing.” Never mind. Just hold it steady for me.”

Right Brain, Left Brain. Right Brain -Wrong Brain

I didn’t think I’d be good at this. I just didn’t think I’d be this bad. I always hated science at school. I’ve never been interested in how things work. Don’t get me wrong, I think all that stuff is wonderful and I’m so glad there are people out there who like and understand science-y stuff. I am not one of those people. Sailing is for those types of people.

My brain doesn’t seem to work that way. Mike and Dave are really good about trying to explain things to me, but most of the time my eyes glaze over and I tune out. I just don’t get it.

A few days ago Mike made a thing to attach something or other to the boat. A bit of the wood cracked. I was standing nearby while he pondered a solution.

“Hmmmmm. I could wrap some metal around the top…… or maybe I should attach another piece of wood….. The wood is quite thick, it would probably hold as is.” He turned to me. “What do you think?”

What did I think? Nothing. As if I had a clue! I looked down at his creation. It was 3 blocks of wood of various shades, fastened together with shiny, brass bolts.

“I like the colours you used” I said.

I think Dave summed up my handyman skills the best when he was telling someone about his crew.

“Mike’s great! He can do just about everything! And Maya” pauses to think “well Maya’s smart enough not to touch anything”.

Sailing

When I think of sailing I imagine sexy, tanned people wearing white. We’ll be sitting on the deck sipping pina coladas as the boat magically sails itself across flat, sparkling blue water. Along the way we will spot a tropical island, possibly with buried treasure. We’ll spend the afternoon there, eating fresh seafood and swimming.

After sunset, the mood changes. Sexy people turn into grizzly old men. We will sit in the mahogany cabin around a bottle of run and they’ll tell me tall tales of the sea.

That’s not what this is like. First off, this is Canada. Canada is cold. It’s the middle of summer here and today there were highs of 10 degrees. I wear a giant, orange survival suit to keep me warm.

I spend most of the days steering over bumpy seas. We see islands, and although beautiful, are not exactly great for swimming. The water temperature is around 4 degrees. That means you’ve got about 30 minutes in it before you die.

After an evening meal out of cans, we sit around and talk about what it would be like if we were stuck on this boat forever, and who we would eat first.

The Day I Almost Left Rimouski

Today was the day. Dave had assured us today was the day, "even if we have to go backwards". And that's exactly what we did.

After a week of unusually good weather and moderate winds, we left this morning in pouring rain. Still we left, so we were happy.

We motored for about half an hour because there wasn't much wind. Dave decided we should give sailing a go anyway. It didn't work. The current was stronger than the wind and was pulling us backwards. Back to Rimouski. Dave remained optimistic. We sailed backwards for the best part of an hour. By the time he decided it wasn't going to work, we didn't have enough time to motor to the next place. We headed back to Rimouski.

To humiliate us further, Dave did a shocker of a park at the marina. My role is to run along the side with a fender (padded ball) and make sure we don't hit anything. It's not exactly the most glamorous job, and is especially embarrassing when there are already 7 fenders along the side. Most boats have 2 or 3.

People looked on as the gypsy boat tried time and time again to pull in to the pier. The marina staff helped us out. They were surprised to see us again. We'd been saying we were leaving for a week now.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon practising parking the boat. I don't know if it's any better. I'm starting to lose faith in our captain. I don't know if we'll ever leave this place. Maybe tomorrow.