As Brio charged forth into the Bay of Fundy from Passamaquoddy Bay, all was well. What could possibly go wrong now? We were on schedule to reach the famous Reversing Falls on time so we could zip up the St. John's River at slack tide and reach the Kennebeccasis Yacht Club and two nights on the inland rivers above St. John's. But it was not to be.
Here's a "duoprop" propeller. Notice that there are two propellers, one in front, one behind. Brio has duoprops, one set on the port side and one set on the starboard side. Duoprops really increase the thrust available to push the boat forward or back or to the side. These are mounted on swiveling pods so the boat can indeed go sideways if the operator wants. It is all driven by a joystick at the helm.
If you look closely, you might see that there are more propeller blades on the front prop than there are on the back prop. On Brio, she has 5 blades on her front prop and four on the rear prop. Why? I don't know, but maybe if there were an equal number, the overlap would be too great for any benefit.
Brio was galloping up the Bay of Fundy towards St. John's. Maybe an hour out (or about 25 miles out), Brio suddenly shuddered. We quickly throttled down to an idle. Engine room? No sign of problems. Gauges? All good. No alarms. Nothing floating up to the surface behind Brio. Then we reverse, hoping some sign of debris would float to the surface. Nothing. Phone call to Ryan at Burr Brothers in Marion. He puts us in touch with his guru, who is in Camden, Maine at the moment. He advises a complete shutdown and restart, sort of like a troubled laptop. Some improvement, but the shudder is still there. Because we are able to shift in and out of gear and can turn, the focus turns to the propeller.
Next step is to limp to St. John's. Meanwhile we find a diver who will swim under the boat and check the props the next day (Friday, the 12th). We missed our window for getting up the Reversing Falls. So, we investigated the St. John's River while we waited for a favorable tide to occur around 8:50 p.m. that evening.
Our investigation took us up the river to just below the Reversing Falls, which is where we are here in this picture. The rock over on the right is called Split Rock. You wouldn't know it here, but as you come around the corner, around Split Rock, there is a fire hose torrent of water that hits the boat broadside and pushes her into the rock wall to the left. But that came later.
Now we had to bide our time until the tide started coming back in. With time, the first half of the tidal cycle after low tide fills in the Bay and Harbor and lower part of the River. When it gets high enough, the water level is almost flat all the way to the upper part of the River and there is no sense of a Falls.
So, we went out to the Bay and drifted for about two hours, ate dinner and crawled back into the Harbor, waiting for our opportunity to "pounce" up the Falls. As 8:00 pm came, we were advancing up the Harbor. As 8:15 came, we were back to where the photo was taken earlier in the day. At 8:30, we were getting itchy. Darkness was falling and we still had to find our mooring at the Kennebeccasis Yacht Club after going through the Falls. Finally, at 8:40, Brio could wait no more.
The River looked pretty quiet, sort of like this image in the picture. So, Chris steered Brio upriver, cutting Split Rock too close. As we came around the Rock, the firehose hit us. Brio skittered to port as the blast of water hit our starboard bow, then beam. Full throttle port engine (even though we were missing a blade) and slack off on the starboard engine. Brio is powerful. Around she came, fighting the torrent. Now the blast was coming right at us on her bow. She fought forward. More power on the starboard engine to balance the port thrust. In a few minutes, we cleared that onslaught and pushed upriver against the current.
What lay before us was intimidating. It was a broad swath of white water, even though the water depth was 50 feet, 60 feet, 75 feet deep. The volume of water and its velocity as it came at us was amazing. Brio bobbed and weaved as a 20-ton canoe, for the white water was full of two and three-foot high waves, all lumpy and convulsed. From where we started by Split Rock, it was maybe ten to twenty feet in elevation to where the white water stopped a half mile upriver.
Up Brio climbed. She throttled back a bit to reduce the shuddering. Her forward speed was about 3 knots. In calm waters, that would have been ten to twelve knots. So the River was coming at us at seven to nine knots. Up we went, bobbing and weaving, making sure we stayed towards the middle of the field.
Finally, we crested the top of the white water and entered a placid lake of the River. The current was still present, but much reduced. We throttled up as much as we could with the shudder and motored in the gloaming up the River. It was getting dark. No one else was on the River at that point. Our navigation lights, the chart lights and the red lights at the dash were all that illuminated our faces and the way forward.
Finally, we rounded the corner and were guided into the Yacht Club by its flashing red nun. After some searching, we found our mooring. Once made fast, we collapsed, relaxed and slept well.
Thank you, Brio.
Cheers,
Brio
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