Calm night, sunrise, clear skies, soft breeze from southeast. Several times during the night a seal slapped the side of the amma out of curiosity. Getting underway we thread our way through bergybits into the open Sea of Labrador. By nine, the wind freshened 12 to 15 knots from the stern and we were on our way to Makkovik.
Ice bergs of all sizes and shapes lined the horizon. As we approached them, keeping a safe distance of course, we could see a loose pattern to the way they lined up. It was roughly the 400 foot depth curve on the chart. Labrador is where icebergs come to die. Some were stark white with ice blue. Some were streaked with dirt and one even had a line of rocks on its sloping side dug up by the mother glacier and carried in the ice. It would seem Greenland, too, comes to Labrador.
We filled the coolers with ice from a bergybit by first knocking it loose with a crowbar, Gordon Freeman style, then fishing it from the sea with a net. I put a piece in my mouth. It was as clean and fresh as the snows of ten thousand years ago could make it.
Our fair winds and following seas carried us 72 nautical miles to anchorage at Double Island, lat. 54°51’30”N ~ long. 058°23’12”W.
Brig Harbor Island Sunset
