Cruising World - November - December 2016

WILD, WILD LABRADOR

november/december 2016

cruisingworld.com

79

Battle Harbour, a

perfectly restored

capital of the

Labrador cod

fisheries, provides

a glimpse into the

past (right).

was at the top of the power heap.

Strong winds of the highlands funnel

through ravines and gaps in the hills, accel-

erating into violent williwaws. After getting

boxed by stray squalls in Kangalaksiorvik

Fjord, we tried to make sure to anchor in

places facing across the axis of any hills to

windward. It worked. Afterward, only once

did we make such a mistake again, when we

trusted the name Calm Cove on the south

side of a mountainous landmass stretching

west from Mugford Tickle. A frontal pas-

sage brought north-northeast gale winds

that hurled down the river valley at the head

of the anchorage. White-spume squalls

raced across the bay, whipping up water-

spouts; 40 hours of 50-plus-knot gusts

made this a memorable visit. The 3 ⁄ 8 -inch

chain on our 72-pound Bruce anchor held

well even though the boat tacked through

90 degrees, the gunwales hitting the sea. We

did break a venerable 3 ⁄ 4 -inch three-strand

snubbing line and had to tie in a spare

braid.

M

ost of the ords lie within

Torngat Mountains National

Park. The park’s base camp on

Saglek Bay aforded us a chance to see new

faces after weeks in the wilderness. With

a lecture/library tent, electric bear fence,

helicopter, two ex-longliner tripper boats

on moorings, hot showers, and cafeteria

meals — civilization has some advan-

tages — the camp hummed with students,

geologists from Japan, Inuit children, and

rifle-toting bear guards. South of Saglek,

the coast returns to wilderness, with the

exception of caretakers in Hebron, an old

Moravian mission station being revamped

as a historical monument. Both the base

camp and Hebron stay open only about

three months each summer.

When an east wind arrived, we sailed

from Mugford Bay, avoiding the ofshore

fog and swell. As we made our way south,

a low, dense forest stretched behind the

foreshore. Four wolves pranced at play on

an open meadow. They spotted our move-

ment and bounded into the green shadows

as we pulled out cameras. Downwind, a

black bear grazing through low grasses sud-

denly rose on his hind legs and swung his

head, sniing.

Labrador fishermen of the past had a way

with words. A “tickle” warned of a narrow

Downwind,

a grazing

black bear

suddenly

rose on his

hind legs

and swung

his head,

sniing.

“

”