A Hop, Skip, a few Jumps, and Hurry Up and Wait

Saturday July 21, Day 58. We are due to leave Tadoussac, having stayed the night in the marina there, where we had also run into our new friends from Trois Rivieres, Maurice and Renée of the 36 Monk trawler “Le Sophie et Marie”, who were in Tadoussac on their son’s sailing boat. Small world.

We had ahead of us the first of the two big legs back to Quebec City, when the tide has to be right – flood, not ebb, the former being weaker than the latter – and the winds light (and never in opposition to the currents, a state of affairs which is not all that common), and all this for two days straight. The next two days looked good, so we grabbed ’em.

We started the engines at 05:30 and on our way out of Tadoussac we see some harbour seals surfacing and diving in the channel. A fond farewell.

The two days were worth choosing: we have a good run both days, the first for 47 miles to Cap A L’Aigle, which we reach by 11 o clock in the morning with the current giving us a boost most of the time.

We arrive and tie up at the dock to await the tides for the next day, and meet up with two more people we had met on our travels so far – Tom in his 50-odd foot Selene from North Carolina, and Roger in his 430 Mainship trawler “Calvados” from Lachine. Both were on their way to the Gaspe´ and beyond, to New Brunswick and possibly even Newfoundland. Gulp. Fainter hearts have we.

The second day was good, too, for most of the 70-mile, 7-hour trip, although the weather was forecast to worsen by the time we got close to Ile D’Orleans and the Bacchus Marina late in the day. And it did.

After a full morning of rain, mist and fog, and with Michel coming  down with a bad cold, we escaped Ile D’Orleans the next day at the turn of the tide early in the afternoon, hoping a forecast showing a clearing for a couple of hours would hold.

We had decided that, unlike on our outgoing journey, we would not do the leg between Quebec City and Trois Rivieres in one big chunk, but in three smaller ones, dodging in and out of both weather and tides. (Instead of running at a good 9 or 10 knots with the current downstream, we were looking at more like 6 or 7 at times upstream). So the next stop was Neuville, a reportedly delightful ancient village. It wasn’t. But the harbour was fine – apart from a very difficult approach and entrance, with current and wind meaning we needed three people hauling on our lines (ropes) to get us tied to the dock.  It gave us refuge for another two nights while the rain fell.

Wednesday, July 25, and we set the alarm for 04:00, starting up at daybreak. The winds were brisker than we thought, and the darkly ominous weather was growling at us on either side of the river, but it held until we got to the quiet inlet of Batiscan, two thirds of the way from Quebec City to Trois Rivieres, by 09:30.

We were well protected in a small river marina, which was just as well considering the thunderstorms that raged at us once we were safe and cozy. Again – as in every marina in Quebec we have visited, the people were charming, helpful and very appreciative when we spoke French – or, that is, when Michel did so while Stephen stumbled through his strange pidgin version of the language, which raised quizzical, but still encouraging, looks.

By the next day, our objective of getting to Trois Rivieres, where we would stay three nights and re-provision, was, we hoped, in sight – rain forecast, but we were on the edge of it.

We left when the radar was the most promising and got there in 3 hours against the current, doing a mere 6 knots by the time we were on the final approach. It felt like coming home again, especially with Maurice and Renée waving us into the marina from their slip as we headed for the fuel dock, where they helped us tie up.

It had taken us 2 days to do the 120 miles from Tadoussac to Quebec City, and a week to do the 95 miles from there to Trois Rivieres in three hops and four days at dock, but after a big shop at the IGA, a haircut for Stephen, full fuel tanks, empty holding tank, full water tank and a dinghy ride around the three channels of the St-Maurice River (which gives the city its name), the weather was turning for the better, and we got ready to head towards the Sorel Islands, where would hopefully get back to anchoring again.