| The flotilla made a concerted effort to leave Isle aux Morts together since there
was going to be a camera crew from the CBC outside of the harbor shooting film for a
documentary that would be aired later this year. We were one of the few boats that had our
sails set so the film crew positioned themselves to get us between the rising sun and
them. When we got to St. John’s we found out that we had made that evenings CBC news.
It was here that we had to depart from the flotilla to make our own schedule work.
While the flotilla had plans to visit several out-ports along the southern coast spending
a couple of days at each one, we only had a few days left to make our flight out of St.
John’s. We weren’t real disappointed since we knew they would be experiencing
essentially the same thing at each and every out-port village. The national dinner of
Newfoundland it seems is called a Jigs Dinner. The biggest event put on for us in Isle aux Morts was an evening that included a Jigs
Dinner and live Newfie music. The dinner is mostly root vegetables with cabbage and salt
beef. It does wonders for the gastrointestinal tract but you really don’t want to be
downwind from someone after a good Jigs Dinner. We just knew that every out-port was going
to try to out do the previous one with a better Jigs Dinner - oh joy.  Sainte Pierre aux Miquelan is a two island group about
140nm SE from Isle aux Morts that is a French possession. In fact it is politically a
district of Paris. Sainte Pierre is a major tourist destination for the area. It is also
known for a somewhat shadier reason as well. It seems that smuggling and bootlegging are
still alive and well in the area. The island is only about 30nm from the Burin Peninsula
of Newfoundland and liquor and cigarettes can be had duty free in Sainte Pierre. When we
arrived there we saw several very large very fast black hard-bottomed inflatable boats. I
wonder what they could have been used for?
We were able sail for a couple of hours during the day but the wind died and the sea
went dead calm and later the sky started filling with mares tails. While we motored
through the afternoon I went up to the bow to get a bit of breeze in my face. The water in
front of the boat was a pastel teal without a ripple on it as the mares tails filtered the
sunlight. Looking down from the bowsprit it was as if I could see forever into the depths.
 By 2000 the mares tails had fulfilled
their prophecy and the wind was back strong enough that we had just the jib and staysail
flying. The helm was sweet, taking no effort at all to drive the boat with a bone in her
teeth through building seas. By 2300 the radar had sucked the batteries dry so we had to
start the engine again to recharge. We finally were forced to reduce sail down to just the
staysail as Geoff was uncomfortable running the engine for any length of time at the
20-25° heel we were maintaining.
By 0400 the wind had moved onto our nose at 25 knots and the seas were square and
nasty. Inishfree was laboring to make any headway at all as we motor-sailed toward
a less than spectacular dawn. Visibility was very poor with low clouds ripping across the
sky while Sainte Pierre and Miquelan played hide and seek on the murky horizon.  We finally slogged our way down the strait between Ile
Miquelan and Sainte Pierre when Geoff had me drive between Sainte Pierre and Ile de Henri,
a rock about half a mile off the shore of Sainte Pierre. There was plenty of water but the
wind funneled between the two creating a wind tunnel and a substantial current. Geoff was
admiring the Puffins while I was trying to get the boat safely though the narrow gap. I
had the bow pointed at Henri and the stern to Sainte Pierre as we clawed and crabbed our
way through. I looked over at Andy and shrugged to say this was not my idea of a good
time.
By 0830 we were in port and went straight to bed after checking in through customs and
immigration. We dragged ourselves out of our bunks at about 1500 and went up to the yacht
club for showers. A group of French kids had just come in from an Optimist sailing class
wearing what amounted to snow suits and survival gear. They seemed to think it was pretty
funny to find three grown men’s naked butts in the shower room. We survived all the
laughing and giggling and finger pointing with what dignity we could muster. Andy and I wandered down the street to find a bar for a beer or two - how unusual. As
he ordered our beers the bartender said; "Oh you must be the guys off the Canadian
boat." Talk about small towns and knowing everybody! I think we were the first
foreign yacht to arrive for the summer season. We enjoyed a couple of brews then decided
to scout around some.  After a little shopping and sight-seeing around town
we went out to dinner with Geoff. The meal was fantastic - true French cuisine. I had a
tossed salad with bacon, eggs, and chicken liver that was outrageously good and then a
main course of pork loin and pasta with a sauce that was sublime. A nice white Grave’
Bougelais added the right accent to the gastronomical delights. The only disappointment
was that the waitress decided they didn’t have any vodka for my vodka and tonic pre
dinner cocktail. We could see the bottle sitting on the shelf behind the bartender across
the room. Ah, the French!
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