We slipped away from Nuuk at 0900 on Monday morning believing that we had found a weather window for our long awaited crossing to Canada. The tanks were full of fuel and water and we were fully provisioned for the five day crossing.
The inner passage south of the harbour was windless and smooth but as we neared the open sea some, 25 miles to the south, the headwind and tide kicked up a boat stopping chop. Finally we dodged this by hoisting the mainsail and bearing off for the open sea at the first opportunity. A gale was blowing to the south of us kindly sending us a swell to remind us that we were heading out into the open ocean.
Unforeseen headwinds, though light, slowed us down as we motored away from Greenland for the last time. Then came murk, mist and drizzle until, finally, the midnight sunset lit up the mountains of Greenland on the far horizon. Our last glimpse of that magical coastline that has captivated us for the last three summers.
For a while the winds were favourable and we sped along on a broad reach but the that faded into more headwinds and the light and variables. A brief patch of sunshine quickly disappeared back into grey skies merged with grey seas.
The forecasts had identified a new low spinning off the Labrador Coast but nowhere near as intense as the one that thwarted us 10 days ago. We were prepared for heavier weather and this one, on the scale of Davis Strait lows, didn't look too bad so onwards and southwards we ploughed.
On our second night at sea it actually got dark which was a novel experience and a reminder that we would have to be very careful when closing the Canadian Coast as we would very much be back in iceberg territory.
With 283 miles to go all is good on board. The sails are reefed right down for the approaching low and the flat seas are beginning to stir as the winds build. And on that wind is a cold and soaking drizzle. Thank goodness for the comforts of our deck saloon which allows us to do most of our navigation in the warm and dry.