More Sunday

On 1 May this year (2006), I was flying over the sea I'm now crossing - Belle Isle Straits. I was looking down on the endless wilderness lands of Labrador, and in the sunlight, I could see the silvered land of NFL. We are now over 8 weeks into our trip, about two thirds of the time has gone and already I feel the pulls - regret for endings and time passing, and anticipation of seeing my beloved family again.

A dolphin - a 'jumper' - rides the bow wave, and vanishes.

Last bit of Belle Isle Strait is choppy, and the wind has increased - we are motorsailing with one reef in the main. I went for a quick snooze and when I reappeared, J said I should have used his bunk, as it's on the lee side. "Get you in my bunk, one way or another" he growls.

Later: "I bin thinking, J, if we had done what we shouldn't, and we'd fallen out, it would have spoilt this trip, not?"

"You're right, I guess". Unconvinced.

Got to Red Bay, and tied up at the public wharf. There was no-one around! No fishing boats tied up. Scattered white houses and some washing on a line, desperate to fly away.

Unlike NFL no-one comes to the wharf to see who we are. (But the next day, I get told we had been seen coming in - not missed) We officially tie up by 7.45 pm. Both tired - 13 hour day, and the last bit strenuous. Staying here tomorrow.