A Log in the Fog

Once again, the Divine has made itself felt. What we describe below could have ended far differently, but Brio's design and construction made all the difference. As a consequence, we conclude this part of the Downeast Loop grateful for all we have seen and experienced. Life does not afford us all souffles, or, as we have come to enjoy from Brio's oven, egg custards. No. Adversity plays an important part, and, in its existence, we learn so much more about ourselves, and we grow to appreciate both the cloudy days and the sunny ones. Gristle and souffles may not make an appetizing meal, but both are gifts for this rich diet we call, "Life."

First, let me give you something to tickle your funny bone. This fellow is well and alive and lives in the Maritime Museum in Halifax.

Fast forward to the St. Lawrence River:

We "discovered" a submerged log in the St. Lawrence River at about where the map shows "Pointe" in "Pointe aux Cenelies" above Rimouski. At this point of discovery, we are about two-thirds of the way through the Downeast Loop. Look at what's underneath Rimouski. You will see the upper reaches of Maine. The land is remote in northern Maine.

What lies ahead, beyond the submerged log? Our plan was to continue up the St. Lawrence to Tadoussac. There, at the confluence of the Saguenay River and the St. Lawrence are very deep portions of the St. Lawrence where whales of all descriptions feed and play. The Saganey River is in a fjord that runs northwest. The predecessor geologic structure is a graben, which is a steep-sided valley formed by a block of crust which has dropped down. The graben extends for the full length of the Saganey River. Its opposite structure is called a horst, both of which were originally described in, you guessed it, Germany.

Back to the incident at hand. Fog had closed in as we were motoring up the St. Lawrence River. We had slowed, turned on the radar and the foghorn, which gives an 8-second blast of the horn every two minutes. We had watches posted forward in case something might appear out of the fog that had not turned up on the radar screen. Nothing appeared.

Suddenly, there was a hard clunk up forward under the boat, followed by another, louder clunk aft by the propellers. Then, a few seconds later, we could see 'the beast." It was a log bobbing in the water, lying crosswise to our track. It was longer than the boat was wide, maybe 18 feet long. From what we could see, it was 18- to 24-inches in diameter. In other words, it was an almost immoveable object that had hit us hard underwater.

Here is a picture from our time in St. John's at the Royal Kennebeccasis Yacht Club. You may remember the view when we described the process of repairing the prop that was missing a blade. The spot where the blade was missing is visible in this picture. The important part here, though, is the entire black structure is called the pod. It starts at the hull and ends at the propellers. There is a vertical drive shaft that extends down into the pod and then, through a gear, translates the spinning of the vertical shaft into a horizontal spinning shaft that causes the propellers to turn. It's a complicated mechanism crammed into a small space, and it translates the tremendous energy from the engine to the propellers to drive the boat.

We lost the port pod when the log hit it. We didn't know that at the time of impact, but you'll see how we learned that. The pod is fortunately designed to break off at the hull and that design kept any water from leaking into the engine room. Brio stayed absolutely dry inside.

If we had had a traditional engine - straight shaft - propeller design with no "break-away" provision in its design, we might well have damaged the propeller and shaft so much that we would have had a significant leak. So, in hindsight, we are very fortunate. And the starboard propellers were still able to carry us into nearby Rimouski Marina to safety and a secure dock in spite of a building storm, high winds and bigger waves.

We found a welcoming community of boaters at Rimouski. Some spoke English, so the language issue was sometimes an obstacle. But the next day, after landing, we met a younger fellow, an avid sailor and racer who had won the evening race the night we arrived. The boats had all gone out in that building storm and Julien was the first at the start and first at the finish. His was about the smallest boat, so he beat all of the others in spite of his boat being among the slowest. You couldn't help but to like Julien.

He offered to do a preliminary dive on Brio. The water temperature was 47 degrees F. It was cold. He had a wet suit, but no tanks or weights. He tied a rope around his chest and said he could only stay underwater for ten minutes, no more. If he failed to come up, we were to haul him out by pulling on the rope that he tied to himself. Julien could determine that the port pod was missing. He could feel with his feet and then with looking that there was nothing there.

With another friend's help, Rene, we hired a better equipped diver with a camera. He took pictures of where the pod had been and what was left, sort of a scar on the hull where the appendage had been attached. He could also examine the starboard propellers and could see how damaged they were as they hit the log.

Here's our friend, Rene. He found the diver through a local dive shop. The local diving scene is very active with many shipwrecks in the area. The Empress Ireland was one we had just sailed over before the log. That collision in the fog had resulted in 1400 people drowning.

And here's the diver:

Here's the picture of the pod "scar."

and

And the damaged starboard propellers:

And the lost skeg on the starboard pod:

So, there's the problem to be solved. What are our next steps?

The pictures showed conclusively that Brio was no longer seaworthy. Docking her on one engine is very tricky. It can be done, but it is a challenge made more complicated by tight situations, currents and wind. She needs to be fixed. As it turns out, the availability of parts is also a problem. The necessary parts are likely not available until early October at the earliest.

Then comes another challenge. There are two canals we must traverse. The Chambley Canal goes up the Richelieu River from the St. Lawrence River at Sorel to Lake Champlain at Rouses Point, New York. Then the Champlain Canal goes south from the southern tip of Lake Champlain to the Hudson River at Troy, New York. The Chambley closes for the season on October 10th. The Champlain Canal closes on October 12th. We are unable to get the boat hauled until mid-October due to the availability of a crane. The repairs cannot be made before the canals close. Brio is stuck.

The other option is to truck her from Rimouski to Marion, Massachusetts where she is stored in a heated shed for the winter. Here, all the repairs can be made at a more leisurely pace in an easier working environment. Now it becomes an exercise in logistics. Get the truck and trailer to Rimouski, haul Brio and put her on the trailer, remove all the electronics that stick up too high and get on the road.

And that is the puzzle in front of us now.

Don't forget that life may present puzzles, but it also presents pleasures, like egg custards.

Six custards for three eager mouths! Bon appetite!

Cheers, Brio