We didn’t actually want to go all the way to Newfoundland. Nova Scotia would have been more than enough. But then we met some Canadian sailors in Halifax who we had previously met in the Bahamas.

The enthusiasm with which they describe Newfoundland rubs off on us, and we set sail spontaneously and full of anticipation. Truly, Canada’s easternmost province delivers on its promise of untouched landscapes, deep fjords, secluded bays, and breathtaking beauty.

Easing in on Neufoundland

After a long journey, the first of the small Ramea islands appears on the horizon. There is joy on board! Who would have thought that we would find ourselves here? In Newfoundland!

The fishermen kindly share their dock with us sailors, and we moor alongside an American Amel yacht. The first impression is one of romantic harbor atmosphere in the soft evening light and trusting mackerel. Dinner is sorted. Who knows how often the supply boat docks here anyway? The next morning, lawnmowers roar in each of the few gardens. Everything has to be spick and span for the island’s annual highlight, a rock festival. We take a walk across the island, past the lighthouse and a pilot project for generating energy from wind and hydrogen. It doesn’t seem to have been very successful.

Green slopes in the Grey River

Off to the fjords! And so, after two nights in Ramea, we sail to the mainland and into the Grey River. The narrow entrance is lined with steep, green slopes that abruptly end in the dark blue of the water. The wind howls through this narrow passage, pushing us deeper and deeper into the winding fjord. In addition to a small village at the entrance, there are actually a few cabins scattered along the water. Probably summer cabins for fishing and getting away from it all. Our day’s work consists of marveling at the scenery and taking a short hike alongside a stream.

Deeper into the wilderness

On the way to Deadman’s Cove, we see a fin above the water and take a closer look. It is a sunfish waving at us, floating on the surface of the water to be warm.

There is room for only one boat in the cove, and we are glad we are not in the Mediterranean. Here, you can choose where to anchor freely. The rocky seabed isn’t ideal for anchoring, but it doesn’t matter without wind. We’re hardly surprised by the spectacular scenery anymore. That’s just how it is in Newfoundland. We add a view from above to our collection of impressions. One advantage of hiking without trails is that we can find enough blueberries for our breakfast cereal.

How fortunate we are to experience this remote corner of the world. There are no roads leading here; the area can only be accessed by water. TThe scenery around our anchorage and the beach behind the mountains makes a visit here well worth the effort. If we didn’t know better, we might think we were in the Caribbean. In any case, the 17-degree water temperature doesn’t stop us from swimming and shell diving. We can see them lying at a depth of eight meters from the cockpit, that’s how clear the water is here. The beach is so beautiful that we decide to stay here for the night. There’s also plenty going on here: Two other boats are anchored here. Some friendly Canadians gave us a can of maple syrup to take with us on our journey. Oh, Canada!

Newfoundland’s Lost Places

The distant rumbling makes us think Grand Bruit is bustling with activity. Instead of finding fishermen or a factory, however, we find an abandoned village. The sound is actually from the waterfall in the heart of the village. No road leads to this remote corner of Newfoundland. Due to the decline of fishing and the exodus of residents, places like this shrank so much that the government promoted or enforced resettlement. The cost of maintaining the infrastructure was too high. The residents of Brand Bruit moved in 2010, though some still use their old homes as summer retreats. This results in a strange mixture of dilapidated and habitable houses.

At the end of the road

We sail on. Rose Blanche beckons with a little more life and a pretty, reconstructed lighthouse. Like almost all places in Newfoundland, Rose Blanche is also characterized by cod fishing. The large fleets have disappeared, but you can see many small boats carrying one to three people with fishing rods passing through the harbor entrance. The fish probably just smiled wearily at our own half-hearted attempt at cod jigging.

Nikola vs rock

Before we have to return to Nova Scotia, we make one more stop. We try our luck at Squid Hole but promptly hit a rock in the small basin. The water is clear, so a lookout from the bow would have been sufficient to avoid the situation. As consolation, we gather cloudberries and enjoy the evening atmosphere.

When it comes to sunsets, all of Canada was a reliable source of the most colorful versions. The almost consistently magnificent weather is certainly responsible for this. The threatened fog was rare. Luckily, because otherwise we would only have been able to guess at this fascinating world hidden behind a thick, white curtain. So we record our unplanned excursion to Newfoundland as a success in the logbook.