We sailed out between Indian Island and Ragged Point with the wind light and from the north west. There was plenty of opportunity to admire the high-end houses that cling to the steep sides and line the small coves of the rugged terrain.
Once around the final headland we moved out of the Kennebecasis River and into the St. John River. This area is known as Grand Bay and is a spectacular sight with a wide expanse of water due to both rivers being well over a mile wide when they join. To the south the start of the relatively narrow and gorge-like outlet of the St. John River can be viewed where the river angrily and noisily spills into the cold water of the Bay of Fundy through the Reversing Falls. However, rather than heading south we set a direct course across the St. John River to one of RKYC's neighbouring boat clubs Saint John Marina.
When we were about 100 yards from the marina a course was set south towards South Bay. At the entrance to the bay two giant pylons provide the height required for electricity cables to span the half-mile wide stretch of water. We followed these wires from west to east and to the south we could make out cars glinting in the bright sunshine in the car park by the beach at Sand Cove.
We tacked back across the St. John River, past the new houses being built on the Anchorage and back past Ragged Point to a smooth docking at RKYC.
Temperature: 25C
Wind: Light
Distance: 9 miles
Duration: 3 hours
Postscript
Later that day my crew and first mate eloped onto a larger sailing boat for a similar voyage across Grand Bay. I was very jealous because I couldn't help but notice them admiring its towering mast. Afterwards, they told me that they felt guilty for their transgression and asked my forgiveness.
A sailboat may forgive but never forgets!
From space, Kingston Peninsula must look like a giant 20 mile long river monster, its head jutting south west and separating the St. John River from the Kennebecasis River. The morsel it appears to be about to capture in its formidable jaws is Kennebecasis Island.
From the river, Kennebecasis Island is a lot more significant than a mere morsel. Through the 19th century the island supported a small community of pioneering farmers, and even their children went to school on the island. Today the island is home to a cluster of summer cottages and their residents, who take advantage of the cable ferry that runs through the months when the river is free of ice. It was therefore an interesting and challenging choice that the first mate and crew made to sail around this island.
The wind was moderate and the sun was still high as we sailed directly off our moorings. The mainsail was raised first and it was a pretty smooth launch when compared with the slap-stick effort of the first voyage. We headed north past Goat Island at a steady pace directly towards the 400 yard wide channel where the cable ferry was busy transporting vehicles back and forth laden not only with their passengers, but with the food and drink that would allow them to celebrate Canada Day in a suitable fashion.
In the narrow sheltered channel our speed dropped and as we passed the island's Keith Cove we had plenty of time to admire all the sailboats and motor cruisers moored up and decked out with their Canada Day bunting and flags. As we passed through Milkish Channel and headed west we could see a covered bridge on the peninsula. We tacked south west as the island narrows and the channel widened and there was less shelter from the wind. The size of the waves gradually increased.
By the time we left the channel both my bow and stern lines were trailing behind in the water and soon after the first crew's cap became the first casualty lost over board. The second casualty was the camera which succumbed to water damage. Spray from the waves' white caps was soaking the crew and first mate and it tickled my coamings as we sailed close hauled to clear the island's westerly headland. This, I remembered, was why I had dreamed of returning to the river.
Once we cleared the headland we set a quick course directly back to RKYC where the masts of the remaining sailboats at their berths could be seen on the horizon. As the sailing became easier, I could sense sighs of relief from the crew and first mate. I wanted to return to the waters off that headland, heel right over and hear my hull slam against the waves once again.
I am sailed therefore I am.
Temperature: 25C
Wind: Moderate
Length of Voyage: 10 miles
Duration: 2.5 hours
This morning there was a cool refreshing mist coming off the cold waters of the Bay of Fundy that rolled over the hills of Saint John down into Millidgeville. First mate and crew were at the moorings and I could sense their anticipation and excitement. They hurriedly fixed my stays in place with new, shiny pins and then they fitted the jib and mainsail in preparation for raising.
In the past I have had a small motor fitted to my stern, but the first mate claims he has a sailing purists ideology and that we must sail (or if required paddle) off our mooring. I notice that nobody else shares his ideology at RKYC. I also notice that they didn't feel confident enough to sail off the moorings this time but instead paddled out into the river before desperately fumbling at my halyards as they raised the jib and mainsail. Again, there were some profanities that I did not approve of!
Obviously they were not very confident on this, their maiden voyage.
We set off at an overly leisurely pace, as they got to grips with my tiller and sheets, from the little bay in which RKYC is located towards Burnt Island.
Burnt Island is located only 100 yards off the mainland. A circular shaped, steep sided, rocky island roughly 250 yards across and covered in forest, it looks the perfect location for the lair of a James Bond villain. However, as far as I can see the island is uninhabited.
As you approach the island you pass Tucker Park. With its beach it is a popular location for Millidgeville residents who wish to swim and paddle in the relatively warm waters of the river. Overlooking the island from the mainland is a Gothic style mansion, but none of this seemed to be the focus of the first mate and captain who, at the slow pace of sail, were having to fight off ravenous horse flies.
Once (eventually) past the island we headed north and gathered speed before heading down river in the direction of Goat Island and Indian Island. These two islands are located about half a mile south west of Burnt Island. From the air, I have been told, they resemble two huge whales, the large Indian Island chasing the smaller Goat Island. There is a shallow channel of water 100 yards wide separating the two. Like Burnt Island these islands are uninhabited but are both popular with the Saint John kayaking fraternity who, during the summer months, will often camp and party on the islands' beaches.
We passed to the south of Goat Island before tacking north through the narrow channel separating the islands. This maneuver would not be undertaken by large sailboats, but with my draft being little more than two feet and the river being high after recent storms there was little risk of grounding on the sand bar.
From here we set a course parallel to the northwest shore of Indian Island heading towards Ragged Point on the mainland. This is the location where the Kennebecasis River joins the St. John River. A southerly tack, followed by a course in a north easterly direction along the southwest coast of Indian Island led us back into the narrow channel once more. Once through we completed a figure of eight around the two islands.
With the sound of rumbling stomachs resonating from the crew and first mate, the voyage was almost complete and we headed towards RKYC, which was half a mile to the south. I was pleasantly surprised, albeit in easy sailing conditions, how these two apparent novices had coped. But my exasperation was soon rekindled.
Coming back towards the moorings there was much panic trying to get the sails down in good time while staying in control. Meanwhile larger boats, travelling out from RKYC, pushed their way past seemingly oblivious to the confusion. Eventually, with sails half down and flapping in the wind the first mate and crew paddled the remaining 100 yards to the mooring and a well earned rest.
Temperature: 20C
Wind: Light
Length of Voyage: 5 miles (4.3 nautical miles)
Time: 2.5 hours
