Arctic Solo Sail

I chided myself for waking late. 0630 is late when there is a change of tide to catch. But the bay that was my home for the evening was so calm and I was tired from a good days sail. I could see by the wet tide line on the boulders on shore I had missed at least two hours of ebb. It’s the ebb tide I need to help the CAP’N LEM make the most of whatever the wind has to offer. But even at that, I still couldn’t get moving. So, I drank coffee, ate cereal, and then made some minor repairs. I just can’t rush away from a place so lovely. There is even a water fall at the end. I think of Yosemite Valley in miniature and it is mine for the anchoring at Latitude 47° 57’ 28”N ~ Longitude 069° 48’ 19”W. How was I to know what unexpected delight waited for the CAP’N LEM just outside, and that the timing was perfect? The timing is always perfect on a voyage such as this.

Finally, my chores done and the morning full on, I upped anchor and felt my way through the shallows of the bay and into the ebbing currents that would carry me toward the Saguenay River. Then it happened. First on the right, the water broke with a whoosh and a blow of air. Then on the left and behind at the same time. They had found us. The white whales had come to us! The Beluga had come to dance with the CAPTIAN. Oh, and dance they did. I ran below for cameras, back on deck and they would disappear. I put the camera down, back they would come. First the biggest and whitest of the males would charge then, as if to inspect the hulls, would dive under and swim the length. Next, the females, a mottled gray to their whiteness, came with their young at their sides swimming in perfect accord. I could sense their pride as they paraded by showing off their babies like proud young mothers strolling a park.

I called to them. I laughed at them. I blew them kisses. I would have sung to them if I had known a song. I remembered a Jacque Cousteau documentary on gray whales in Baja. They took a boat up to them and Cousteau jumped on the back of one and held on for as long as he could then slip free. He said this. “To touch life is to know life and to know life is to love life.” How many years ago was that, 40? I have never forgotten it.

No, I did not touch them, not physically. It would have not been appropriate. But I did touch them with my eyes and with my heart and my voice. And the CAP’N LEM turned this way and that in the tide rip. They left and came back then left again to not come back. I waited, but it was over so I sailed away. But for a long time, off in the distance, I could see them come to the surface to breathe the same air as me.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 14th, 2009 at 3:05 am and is filed under Saint Lawrence. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.