Nova Scotia - her southern ports - Lots happened in Lockeport

Secured safely to the dock in Lockeport.  See what I mean.  Few boaters; the docks are deserted!

We promised ourselves that the number one priority for this voyage would be safety. Looking at the picture above its hard to fathom that the sea beyond the break in the background could possibly be difficult. But we are tied to this dock in Lockeport for just that reason.  We arrived here on a fair sea but without the correct peripherals we could be slogging along with the wind on the nose of our boat at a speed of 2 knots and pounding over unruly waves that come at us every four or five seconds.  We keep track of the wind, the wave direction, the length of time before each wave reaches us (called an interval), the water depth, what the weather forecast for the location of our departure is as well as the weather for the destination, the speed the boat and how it reacts in all of the elements.  If they all do not align to our liking, we remain at the dock or mooring or anchorage.  And no matter what the conditions are on the water, very unlike the captain of the ship,  I am susceptible to seasickness.

So here we are in the lovely sunshine awaiting a safe time to venture back out onto the Atlantic Ocean.  And we have time to kill. There is never time when there is nothing to do on a boat, certainly not for us, but choices are made with this lifestyle, just as in any other.  On this gorgeous sunny day, my project was to add to my medicinal repository, another potential remedy for seasickness, just in case it was needed. 

Awaiting the serving of Thanksgiving dinner at my daughter`s family cabin just a few days prior, I had the fortune of hiking around the garden.  I noticed there, that the lavender was starting to dry in the October fall coolness and it brought to mind the little blue bottle I had stashed aboard our boat. Ultimately, the reminder of the little blue bottle brought to mind the story of how it became to be on our boat.   While we were sailing from Lake Ontario to Nova Scotia up the St.Lawrence River, we met another sailing couple, Ted and Marie, who were heading to Newfoundland. They were seasoned sailors having spent many years sailing the Great Lakes and hailed from a small community so close to where I grew up.  We became friends and sailed together for quite some distance. We parted waves as they ventured into Gaspe Bay and we continued on out into the Gulf and further afar. However, not before Marie provided me with yet another piece of wisdom.  Marie was concerned about the possibility of my seasickness episodes worsening. She insisted that I take a bottle of her remedy with me.  This little blue bottle containing an oil tincture, the oils extracted from lavender, was her gift to me as we parted.  She explained that she kept it aboard her boat, it was a lifesaver, and that I should use it sparingly because she had been unable to find the product again.  It is applied behind the earlobe, its beautiful odour easily drifts into my senses and I did and do use the product sparingly.  It works as well for me as it did for her,  It may be psychosomatic, who knows , I do not care.  It works; I appreciate it; it is almost gone; and I have been unable to find the product too.  The fact that I was in short supply gnawed at me occasionally; subsequently, the sight and soothing fragrance of the drying lavender in the garden rekindled that bother. Without explanation, I persuaded Susie to give me a few springs of the lavender and before she delivered us back to the boat, I had a bag full.

I believe I mentioned previously that the captain of our vessel, my husband Keith, is passionate. He is passionate about whatever it is that he takes on; in that I mean that he engrosses himself into every project that he sets out to do with such a relentless vigour.  He ponders, he researches, he looks for the best route he can find to resolve the issue he might be attempting to work on.  

For a short period of time before we departed on this sailing trip, we were dog sitting our granddog,  Duke, for a bit. During this time, Duke developed a skin irritation that would not subside no matter what meds we gave him or how we adjusted his diet.  Keith decided he would act as his own vet as he had done so many times prior with our six horses.  He would devise his own remedy for a skin cream for this dog. 

I came into our home one afternoon after work and could smell something so unusual, almost offensive at first, lingering throughout the whole house.  I inquired as to what was going on.  For those of you who know this man, you will recognize what I mean when I say that he had a look about him; he cast a slight glimpse of saucy pertness and he had the tiniest squinting at the corner of his lips when he said to me, "What,  what smell?"  Within a few minutes he had confessed to me that indeed the smell lingering was that of  the fat of a bear that he had spent the day rendering in the kitchen oven.   Apparently, he had asked his hunting buddy boys at his work, for the remains of the fat of a bear should anyone of them shoot a bear on one of their hunting trips. Unannounced to me he had arrived home with a huge pail of this fat the night before, planned and proceeded to render it for two reasons.  One to crisp up some of the fat for dog treats for Duke and the other to produce a liquid that he would strain and cool,  to which he would add teatree oil to create a cream  to rub  into Duke's coat and skin.  He stored this rendered "bear grease" cream in the cool to harden.  Once cooled, the cream resembled lard and had absolutely no odour.  Shortly thereafter, Duke's skin problem was healed and we had an amazing product that worked for numerous skin irritations.

I recount this because we had our last remaining container of this cream aboard Bridlewilde. When I mentioned to Keith,  this fine day, that I was about to attempt to render the oil from the lavender to make a seasickness remedy for myself, it was then that he suggested I add our last portion of bear grease to the mixture to better extract the volatile oils from the plant enabling a double whammy effect.  This "potion" is what you see me brewing on our camp stove on the dock in Lockeport Harbour.

Witchcraft....perhaps!

Lavender reducing.  Yes, it does work!

Lockporte was our destination for a number of reasons. It is an excellent departure point for mariners choosing to cross the Gulf of Maine for Cape Cod, our intent.  Keith had been to this port on a prior trip south where he crewed another friend's vessel across the Gulf.  Lockeport also held a significant personal attraction. 

Randell Dominaux was a good and gentle man. He was married to my husband's deceased sister, Beattie; he was a sea captain, one of my husband's fathers and he spent most of his life on an ocean. Randall fished for Clearwater Seafoods, a well world renowned illustrious business in Atlantic Canada, and his home port was Lockeport .......so we were bound to sail there too. This man was so highly regarded, a gifted seaman, and such an explicit important asset to his employers that at his loss they honoured his memory by naming a new ship acquisition after him,  The owner of the company presented this dedication in a eulogy at his funeral; we  hoped to see the vessel in port there but she was at work out to sea.   Anywhere we were in this port, at the mention of his name, stories of his valour, his fishing prowess and his warmth of character were told with consideration and pride.

The Randell Dominaux

For details of  this vessel go to:

http://www.marinetraffic.com/en/ais/details/ships/shipid:3709112/mmsi:316013590/imo:8619546/vessel:RANDELL_DOMINAUX

We remained in this harbour awaiting our weather window across the Gulf of Maine to Cape Cod. We further provisioned the boat.  We hiked the beaches. We visited the library . We chatted with people. Keith fished for mackerel. We looked for gear we needed. Keith tuned the wind vane on the stern of the vessel. But our weather window did not come and we decided that we would continue along traveling the coast to Yarmouth, another excellent port from which to depart across the Gulf. 

Keith overseeing the move further inside the floating docks.

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