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Small fishing villages have always attracted us when travelling by car along the Atlantic coast of Canada. Their salty air, smelling of seaweed and fish, together with the scapes of fishing – trawlers unloading their catch or going fishing, traps and nets laid out along the piers create a unique atmosphere of life by the sea, not that glossy life of resort towns, but real hard-working life, and sometimes dangerous.
We have had the fortunate opportunity to observe this life for several days now, both in sunny, calm weather and in rainy and stormy weather, as today. Just yesterday, the pier was filled with children’s voices, a delight from the caught mackerel, the noise of a crane loading nets onto a neighbouring trawler, and loud conversations of the crew and fishermen at the pier … today everything is gone – only endless rain, chatter at the dock and rare visits of boat owners checking how well their boats are tight to the dock.

Finally, I found the translation of the word Cloridormе – this means “the basin where the waters sleep”. Yesterday I would have believed it, but not today – someone (….did we?) woke them up!
We are working on the boat (there is always something to do), waiting for a mechanic with a fixed starter and singing lullaby songs for the sea 🙂

By the will of fate, wind and waves we ended up in a small fishing village with the strange name of Cloridorme. This name is very different from other Quebec villages, which mostly include the name of saints or natural phenomena. Googling the name, I found out that the name is associated with the first settlers in this area, who were British from the Jersey Islands. But before we reached this village, something that could happen happened – the engine did not start. We tried to enter the bay on sails and anchor, which was quite difficult with the following wind and high waves, we made one attempt when we saw a sailboat that came out of the bay towards us. They offered us help in towing to the harbour and we gratefully agreed. It was already dark when we docked and met our Good Samaritans – a family of 4 (not counting the dog) – Alain, Judy and their two teenage daughters, who were returning home in Quebec City on their sailboat “First Look” after sailing to New Brunswick. The next day (heh, my 64th Birthday!) was incessant torrential rain and we spent it on the well-protected cockpit of the sailboat, chatting with friends, responding to congratulations – in the evening we ordered seafish food at a nearby restaurant to take away and celebrated this event on our sailboat in the company of our new friends.
The mechanic, recommended by the harbourmaster, arrived on Sunday morning and determined that the solenoid and possibly the starter had burned out. He went in search of the solenoid, promising to arrive the next day. The weather was sunny and warm – we got out for a walk along the intertidal shore, looking at the wonderful structure of the rocks and observing the wildlife. Iryna suggested looking over the cape, and we reached it, finding there an original stone church with an old cemetery.

I left birdwathcing part of the post to Iryna.

Leaving Saint-Maxime-du-Mont-Louis, we set sail for the next leg of our voyage, but due to the low wind we made adjustments. For the first time we rised the main sail and practiced tacking in the tidal current, observing the wildlife around us – gray seals, dolphins and the Northern gannets that began to appear. But most importantly, we were able to make an oceanographic section from 4 casts on the traverse of Cap de la Madeleine. Despite the rather strong drift of the CTD measuring system under the conditions of tidal currents, we reached a depth of 30-50 m, finding the depth of the thermo- and haloclines at a depth of 25 m.