Yarmouth
The trek north to Canada was enjoyed in the anchorages of numerous towns and cities and hidden bays and coves, spending little and taking in as much natural and manmade wonder as we could prior to our May 1st transit to Canada.
With all that, and with gratitude to the many Americans who have been part of our journey, returning to Canadian waters has brought a sense of lightness to our spirits.
Yarmouth, NS felt like a new chapter in our adventure. After the dream of the Bahamas was put on the backburner, Canada has been our destination and although we tried to enjoy every step along the way our hearts were in the great white north. Landing at Killam Bros dock, our first blue water passage successfully and undramatically under our belts, the adventure felt fresh and manageable and just a bit funner.
Yarmouth holds a special place in our hearts and was a favourite stop in our journey. Here is a bit about our time there and what made it stand out.
East Coast Hospitality
In a previous post I told the story of Randy, how he came down to the dock out of curiosity and ended up regaling us with a sailboat story. It was funny, but missing were my questions to him of "where can a deprived Alberta girl get some fresh lobster around here?" and "what are your favourite restaurants in Yarmouth?" Randy thought about the lobsters for a moment, got out his phone, called a friend, and directed us to the lobster pound down the waterfront. Being at the end of the season it may be a long shot, but that was our best bet. We assured him that in the next day or so we would head down and try our luck. Regarding restaurants, he told us about a couple that were good, one that was alright, and a rumour of a new one that was amazing. 2 hours later he cycled back to the boat. He had gone to the new restaurant, taken a picture of the menu, gotten the intel, and was back to let us know the scoop, then on his bike again with a wave and a see ya later.
The restaurant was Harv's Place, and when we visited we enjoyed delicious fish and chips and clams and chips.
Planning our passage to Yarmouth included figuring out where to stay the day we landed and we called Killam Bros Marina to inquire about their rates and availability. The marina manager, Peter, told us the marina wasn't open for the season yet but we were welcome to tie up to the floating dock. He warned that the dock would be full of bones and shells from the birds feasting all winter and spring and we wouldn't have access to water or electricity, but they were happy to have us stay.
I was pretty thrilled with this arrangement. Tied up to a dock with full access to the town, and we wouldn't have to pay? Awesome. The day after we arrived, Peter came over and introduced himself as we were sitting on the dock adirondak chairs with our morning coffee.
He had just cleaned and opened up the marina washrooms, complete with showers and laundry (paid of course). We were given a key and encouraged to reach out if we needed. Being so early in the season, and with the marina not open yet, we were surprised and thrilled at this turn of events. A proper shower?? Laundry??? Showers on the boat are short, awkward affairs. Get wet, turn off water, scrub, rinse, done. Showering at the marina, even donned in flip flops, is heaven in comparison. Turn the hot water up and stay under it for what feels like an eternity with no worry about water usage or draining the hot water tank before your loved one gets in. And laundry is another joy. We have a washer on board, but if the weather isn't warm then the clothes can't be hung out to dry. The thought of finding space inside the boat to dry bedsheets is daunting, so we do the majority of our laundry at laundromats or marinas. Getting all the laundry done and enjoying a hot shower was heaven.
Later in the week Peter connected a hose for us to fill our water tanks. The marina wasn't even open yet.
Later that day we were heading down to find lobster (something something about dogs with bones) and were having trouble locating the fishing boats. The word on the street is that you find a boat coming in, head over, and offer cash for lobster. But we couldn't find the boats. After searching for a bit we spotted an older gent in a pickup truck heading out of the waterfront. We waved him down and asked about lobster. He pointed out the trailer to check at, a block away from where we were, and then headed off. 15 minutes later he pulled up to us with a toot of his horn. He had gone to the trailer, gotten the name of the person to talk to, and confirmed that no boats had gone out today, so likely no lobster. Bruce King then told us he'd ordered some lobster for the weekend ahead (Mother's Day), asked us where we were from, and then wished us all the best before driving off.
A vendor we talked with later - a newcomer to Yarmouth - said that Yarmouthians will make sure you know where you're staying, drive you there, tuck you in, and then come back the next morning to cook you breakfast. Its not far from the truth.
The Character
I have an untested and unscientific theory that as a place grows, so do its people grow farther apart. Perhaps with more citizens there isn't a personal connection to each other and the general sense of warmth dissipates. Yarmouth still holds the warmth. Many shops are owner operated, and there seems a personal touch to everything.
Stepping into an art gallery, one artist whose work is on display is painting a watercolour in the centre of the room. She chit chats with us, telling about her art and her own history. Another come-from-away, she fell in love with the place. Her paintings are all of the town, celebrating its architecture and fishing roots. One of her prints is now in the boat, along with another artist's little work - lifelike drawings of two fish. I like weird stuff.
The artist directed us to The Lumberjack's Daughter, a store we had seen but glazed by with all the other things to look at. It ended up being our next stop.
Set up in the Salvation Army building and built in the late 1800's, The Lumberjack's Daughter is a curated second hand shop that doesnt take itself too seriously. Walking in I had the sense that there was treasure around every corner and immediately found things I wanted to take home. Books and blankets and ornaments and jewelry.
Colours and texturues and interesting stuff in every nook and cranny. Packed to the gills. The owner came out to say hello and we ended up chatting for a good while. She is another come-from-away, who had decided with her husband that Yarmouth was a wonderful place to vacation in February, yes, really. They visited, started joking about buying old churches, and then were in a moving truck. She's never looked back. The incredible hospitality of the people, the history, and the je ne sais quois of Yarmouth kept them there.
She describes opening the store and reaching out to people for their old stuff. EVERYONE had things to give away and embraced the new store. Bits and bobs from granparents, aunts and uncles, neighbors, the weirder the better. Her favourite is getting a phone call stating, "this is a bit odd, and I'm not sure if you're interested, but..." That is when the best stuff comes in. One such, a local woman, deeply feminist and lesbian, had passed and left behind a trove, including the book Titters on feminist humour. The family didn't know what to do with it all and The Lumberjack's Daughter welcomed it with open arms.
Heritage Brewing was our first stop after landing in Yarmouth. A local brewery, it has the look of so many microbreweries in Calgary and other places - industrial feel, exposed ceilings, shining brew equipment on display. Walking up to the counter we were greeted warmly, our questions answered, beers decided, and then a tab opened up. Jean gave his name, then asked the woman at the counter how she would spell it. J.E.A.N. she said, not John. Jean's hand went to his heart. We were home in Canada. We tried to explain what a delight this was to her. She politely laughed and we were shoo'd on our way. 2 beers and 2 crib games later (they had boards in the brewery) and our exhausted bodies stumbled back to the boat.
Later in the week we stopped by for another delicious brew and ended up chatting with one of the owners about Yarmouth, business, and the future. During the chat, another customer pops his head up, "did I hear someone say they were looking for a house?" Selling his home to move closer to his family was proving difficult, and he was looking for every lead possible. Jean ended up going over to his table a bit later to see what this house was all about, as he is forever interested in real estate, and I continued talking with the owner. She explained that they are trying to sell, but it may be a long time before they get any bites. Listed at 1.4 million for the brewery, building, and commercial tennants on the property, it would take a wealthy tourist or investor to go for it. It seems the craft beer business is the same all over Canada. Boomed in 2018 and now many of them are closing or exiting the oversaturated market.
The Vibe
There are always boat jobs to do. When Sea Fire is at dock we have large rubber "balloons" that hang off of the side rails, wedged between the boat and dock. These fenders protect her from paint and hull damage, but the ridicuous snow storm the day after we arrived pushed the boat into the fenders so hard and for so long that the paint has "fender burn." Our beautiful deep black gloss has white shadowing where those fenders were rubbing.
Off to the Chandelry (boat shop) we went. After explaining what happened, the owner suggested boat wax. He grabbed a tub and told us he would give it to us for $10, with the sticker saying $25. WOW! We protested enough to be polite, gave him a 10, and left. Back at the boat we opened it and saw it had been used and was 25% gone. We had a good laugh, knowing both parties had gotten a deal. We would never use a whole tub of the wax and he would have trouble selling it used. Works for us.
The wax eased the scuffing, but not much. At the other Chandelry (this is a working marine town), we had no luck on other solvents/coatings that would minimize the damage, but were on the hunt for fender socks, fabric coverings for the rubber fenders that prevented the chafe. They didn't have those either, but we had an extended and fun chat with the vendors, talking about sailing, fishing, boating, and the water. One of the gents used to love being on the water, but a new medication for his condition gives him terrible sea sickness. and so new joys have to be found.
Yarmouth was a joy. Plain and simple. I know that being out of the states played a part, with the constant shadow of politics hanging over our heads lifting when we crossed the border, and certainly paying in Canadian dollars rather than USD was a relief. But even with that Yarmouth is a special place. A working town that takes pride in its sea faring history, embraces tourists, and manages to extend a feeling of welcome to bedraggled Albertans is no small feat.
Thank you for the wonderful stay. We will certainly be back, even though we didn't find any lobster.
Photo Gallery
Comments