Crossing to Nova Scotia: a masterplan and fluorescent torpedoes
| Passage | La Poile → Kelly's cove |
| Distance | 120 nm (5 nm under engine) |
| Duration | 24 h (1.2 h of engine) |
| Wind |
B0
B2
B4
B6
B8
B10
Calm
Storm
|
| Comfort |
☀️
🌠
🐬
😊
|
September 16th, 2026
We left La Poile at dawn to take advantage of the tail of a storm and arrive at the entrance of Bras d’Or at current slack, just before the current turns with us. This way we would avoid wasting a day waiting in Sydney for the appropriate tidal gate. A masterplan.
It started fine. The wind blew 20kt from the beam, as forecasted, and Capsula made good progress. For 2 hours. Then the wind dropped to 8-12kt: breeze from the beam, no waves, sunny. Perfect sailing conditions. Except that we had expected to go faster on the first half of the crossing, to cover as much distance as possible before the wind was forecast to die, at 6pm or so. We kept checking the forecast every hour, hoping for something to change. So much for living in the present moment and enjoying the ride.
At 9pm, the wind was still steady. Stefano took his watch. At midnight, I took mine, same ideal wind: enough to push Capsula at a steady 5-6kt (our cruising speed) but not enough to create waves. We were getting closer to the entrance of lake Bras d’Or, way ahead of schedule.
Suddenly, the sea turned fluorescent green around Capsula. We had entered a field of phytoplankton. I was lost in contemplation of the water around when I heard a “shhhhhh” on our starboard. I looked up and saw four fluorescent lines going at speed towards us. I felt my heart missing a beat as the thought of torpedoes briefly crossed my mind. It took me a few seconds to discard the possibility of a Russian ship aiming at us in Canadian waters and come to a more rational conclusion: dolphins. Heading straight at Capsula through the phytoplankton.
Not only could we see their bodies underwater, lighting up in green, but also their trails, a bit like the ones planes leave in the sky. For the first time in our lives, we could see dolphins moving underwater: diving, passing below Capsula, pirouetting, almost crashing into each other and turning at the last minute, going away and coming back. Four of them, then more, then only two, until they suddenly left. We did not have the equipment to film this, and even less the mind to do so, mesmerized by the ballet around us. If you want an idea of what we saw, check this video, and picture it with green fluorescence.
By 4am, we were approaching the entrance channel to Bras d’Or, 6 hours earlier than planned. The good news: we were just on time for the slack. The bad news: it was the other one. We were meant to arrive around 10, when the current would turn with us. Now the tide would turn against us before we could pass the narrows. We decided to keep going anyway. Tide and lake outflow would both be running against us, but at least not against each other, and with the wind dropping there should not be many waves. Indeed, the sea remained flat, but we had to battle a 3-4kt current (for 30 minutes only) until we passed the first narrows and found refuge in Kelly’s cove.
A perfect crossing. In hindsight.
Anne, Canada, November 2026