July 6, 2019
Noon Position: 46 39N 53 01W
Course(t)/Speed(kts): NE 6
Wind(t/tws): E 4
Sky/10ths Cover: Fog/10 (viz = 200ft)
Bar(mb): 1013+, falling
Cabin Temp(f): 68 (engine heater on)
Water Temp(f): 46
Relative Humidity(%): 52
Magnetic Variation: -17.6
Noon-to-Noon Miles Made Good (nm): 112
Miles since departure: 31,717
Leg to St. John’s
As we closed Cape Race, a heavy fog came down that ate up the wind. I reeled in a drippy spinnaker and started the engine at 0430. Already daylight was coming on. Over coffee, I set myself for a long shift in the pilot house.
We were entering an area where icebergs could be found. And though the latest ice report was a far cry from the one we saw before our Halifax arrival–now there were fewer bergs per square degree than fingers on one hand–I still wanted to be cautious.
By full light, visibility was below 200 feet, and it stayed that way all day.
While I would have liked more wind, this part of the run provided a good test of systems rarely used on the first 237 days of
Would we see our first ice today? Lack of visibility seemed to answer this in the negative. But would radar pick it up?
Newfoundland. A curious name. Not New Holland or New France or Nova Scotia or even Nova Albion. Not any of the names that in their statement lay claim to this or that piece of the new world. Newfoundland, rather, seems uttered in shock (What, here?) and suggests