Gaps

I've got this written down, back on the boat, natch, which is on a mooring right out in the harbour, so there will be blanks here.

We left Daniel's Head (aka South Side for the locals), Nova Scotia - god, seems like years ago, but only a week - and headed out across the Gulf of Maine for Bar Harbour. Couldn't wait to have J call up the Bar Harbour Harbour Master with a straight face. Anyway, we took turns hour on hour off on the helm, and I passed the time composing more verses to I Wish, I wish, oh I wish in vain ...

I wish, I wish, oh I wish in vain,
I wish I was ashore again.
But ashore again I ne'er shall be
Till I reach the end of this feckin journey.

You can tell I wasnt having the greatest time.

Rounding Cape Sable was bouncy in the extreme, but at least there wasnt a gale this time. J wanted to put up the main in all this jumping, and I absolutely forbad him until we'd got out of the rip tides and overfalls. I think it was bravado, or idiocy, that made him suggest it, anyway - daft clot. Makes you wonder about someone who has a waypoint in the middle of charted overfalls, eh?

As night fell, the loom of lights on the distant land were to starboard - the town of Yarmouth, NS, bidding us our last farewell to Canada. The land, this bit anyway, and of course, my fave Newfoundland, that likes to say "YES!" (see later post).

J said he was buzzed by a small aeroplane, strobing him and Fortune, then flying off. The land of Paranoia cant be that far off, then.