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june/july 2016
cruisingworld.com
navigational aids. But one man’s peril may
be another’s opportunity, and many peo-
ple once ventured out to Sable to take
advantage of the shipwrecks. There was
perceived wealth to be gained by salvaging
the cargo that washed ashore, and there
are many stories of piracy and theft from
this era. Some shipwrecked survivors were
marooned for years before being rescued.
Sheppard pointed out that there were also
tales of valor. “‘Resilience’ is a word that
describes many of the shipwrecks,” he
said. “There were many crews that rebuilt
their vessels. The stories of the quest for
survival are inspiring.”
Thanks to LORAN and, later, GPS,
shipwrecks are mostly a thing of the past.
The lighthouses are no longer in operation.
But even with modern aids to navigation,
Sable Island demands caution when sailing
near its shores. The waters surrounding the
island are the foggiest place on the Canadi-
an coast thanks to the extreme difference
in water temperature on either side. To the
north, the cold Labrador Current flows
southwest. This chilled water arrives from
Newfoundland and Baffin Bay. Yet not far
to the south of Sable, the warm, fast-mov-
ing Gulf Stream flows northeast.
It is never too warm or cold on Sable
Island, though hurricanes there have
the greatest impact of anywhere on the
Canadian coast. Monster storms have a
huge effect on the topography of the land.
Marram grass might grow for decades on
a particular part of the island, only to be
completely blown out by a storm. It can
take many years for vegetation to regrow.
ON the east end of the island, Mike
Audick and I filmed our climb up Bald
Dune. This desolate spot is 120 feet above
sea level and a 6 -mile hike from Main Sta-
tion. We felt a great sense of achievement
in being able to sit atop that pile of sand.
A few times during our visit, I was able
to rest quietly and just look at the land-
scape and the sea. There were no ships on
the horizon, no Internet, no cellphones to
break the silence. There were no footprints
in any direction. A few horses occasionally
strolled by, and it was fascinating to watch
the seals on the beach. These moments
made me wonder what the barrier islands
on the East Coast of the United States
were like before any development.
I grew up on Barnegat Bay, New Jersey,
a body of water formed by barrier islands.
Superstorm Sandy in 2012 was a brutal
reminder of how fragile the beaches are. A
few months after the storm, I filmed the
bay and islands from a helicopter. It was
horrifying to see so many ruined buildings.
That image was in my head as I sat on a
dune looking at unspoiled Sable Island. I
was at peace during my respite there. The
fast-paced world was at bay, and at night
the stars were brilliant and infinite.
During one period of rest, Finamore
asked me if I could envision an America’s
Cup race taking place off Sable. That day
the sky was clear and the wind was blowing
18 knots. It was perfect for sailing. While it
would take considerable infrastructure to
host an America’s Cup in that inhospitable
setting, I could see a fleet of 80 Lasers rac-
ing there. I figured the sailors could stay in
tents on the beach. It would be rustic, but
great fun. (Of course, the sharks lurking
nearby might be an issue.)
There are several hundred thousand
seals living around Sable Island. Sheppard
said their population is a good indicator
of what else is living in the surrounding
waters. Grey and harbor seals are the two
most prevalent species. The male greys can
weigh up to 650 pounds. There are other
types of seals as well. Walruses could be
found on Sable centuries ago, until they
Opposite from top: A circa 1900 nav-
igation buoy is among the treasures
found on Sable Island. Tazzarin’s
crew includes (left to right) Dan
Finamore, Mike Audick, Carl Doane,
David Martz and Gary Jobson. With a
half-million members, Sable is home
to the world’s largest grey seal colony.
The Graveyard and Its Wrecks
I have been to Sable three times, and
each approach was different: the first in
a thick blanket of fog and a flat calm; the
second, a clear morning with 20 knots
of north wind and seas pushing us on an
endless lee shore; and the third, in the
protection of southerlies on a dark night
amid storm clouds, lightning flashes and
scattered moonbeams. Each time, Taz-
zarin advanced slowly, feeling her way
among the shoals rather than relying
on charts of the ever-shifting bottom.
Anchoring in these infamous waters
feels like simply anchoring in a shallow,
exposed part of the open Atlantic.
Sable is about 26 miles long, with bars
stretching another 12 miles off the East
Spit and West Spit. Altogether, it is a
nearly 50-mile-long hazard to naviga-
tion, perched on the main route between
the Old World and New World, and has
threatened ships for centuries. Today
numerous commercial vessels and sail-
ing yachts traverse the great circle route
between North America and western
Europe each year, passing close to Sable.
The earliest of the island’s recorded
shipwrecks occurred in 1583, when
HMS Delight, the largest ship in
explorer Sir Humphrey Gilbert’s fleet,
wrecked on Sable’s sandbars. The most
recent wreck was the loss of a cruising
sailboat, Merrimac, in 1999.
Much of Sable’s past is shaped by
shipwrecks; each one brought survi-
vors as well as human tragedy and lost
cargoes. By 1801, the Nova Scotian gov-
ernment had decided too many ships
were wrecking on Sable and too many
lives were being lost. The Humane
Establishment was created, and life-
saving crews were stationed on Sable.
In essence, this was the birth of the
Canadian Coast Guard. Thus began a
century and a half of lifesaving on Sable.
The station was manned up until 1958
and saved countless sailors and cargoes.
— Bill Barton
The Gloucester fishing schooner
Lizzie M. Stanwood was homeward
bound from the Grand Banks in a
chilling Valentine’s Day storm when
she wrecked in 1904.
A navigational error claimed the J/41
Merrimac in 1999. The sloop was
swallowed quickly by Sable’s sands.
COURTESY OF CAPE ANN MUSEUM (LEFT); COURTESY OF GERRY FORBES