Well, I tried to get out of here. Honest. Friday, resigned to the fact that I am going to have to take strong winds on the nose whenever I leave, I set out for Trepassey at eight a.m. Motoring into the wind, I was somewhere near Cappahayden when the motor slowly lost compression and died. It's quite a feeling to be bobbing out there, with no motor. And it's not a terribly attractive feeling. I was left with two choices: Tack my way down the coast for the next two days to get to Trepassey, or turn around and sail back to Port Kirwan, and hope I could make it alongside the wharf under sail. I chose the latter, and had a pleasant run back to Port Kirwan, which I have taken to calling the Hotel California. Fortunately, the motor fired up as I approached the wharf and I managed to dock under power. So now I'm well behind schedule, but learning to accept the things I cannot change. Thanks to the help of Pat Aylward, who was an engineer aboard the Marine Atlantic ferries for 35 years, the motor is back on track. She was a little low on oil, it turned out. I had planned to make a long trip to catch up -- nonstop from here to Burin -- with Jim Miller, a friend from Holyrood and the man who runs the sea school there, but he had to back out. So my host here, Carolyn Adler, has graciously offered to take his place. So we'll try to leave tomorrow, and make the 30-hour trip in a 10-hour and a 20-hour segment. Meanwhile, the fog continues. But I was screeched in last night, and have the headache to prove it. And I'll get my second Port Kirwan jig's dinner today!
A.
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