The Captain's Logs are below.

Read the Crew's Views from John, KC, and Caroline as they reflect on their experiences in Asia.

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There is much to tell of the Pride of Baltimore II's recent passage from Toronto to New London, Connecticut.

Most who know the Pride know that she is a superior passage-making creature. Some of the things that make her so are her speed, due to hull design, and the weatherliness of the Baltimore clipper rig. Another characteristic of the Baltimore clipper rig is her ability to set a large amount of canvas, and so attain higher average speeds in light air conditions than other traditional vessels of comparable size. On a long ocean voyage, these factors contribute significantly to Pride II's performance. But navigating from Toronto to Connecticut presents a somewhat different situation. At 1,800 nautical miles following straight rhumblines, the voyage could be fairly described as "long." But an open ocean voyage, it is not. And therein lie the diverse and constantly changing challenges that make this particular voyage so interesting, no matter how many times one may do it.

The voyage in and out of the Great Lakes is among the most technically interesting runs that Pride II makes. This was her fourth foray into the Lakes, plus once with the original Pride. An interesting voyage, however, may be anything but simple. So it has been the case this time. While we have been blessed by mostly favorable weather, it is the physical geography itself through which the vessel passes that magnifies the normal complexities entailed with any voyage. First, there is the fundamental fact that a vessel voyaging from the Great Lakes to New England essentially reverses direction from northeast to southwest in making a hairpin turn around Nova Scotia. The same wind that was fair one day is contrary the next. Furthermore, the ever changing orientation of the coastlines and the irregular shapes of the bodies of water transited present new options and perils in rapid succession. This is no tradewind passage where you set the sails, adjust the sheets, and plow along for weeks on end. No siree. This is work!

After leaving Lake Ontario, Pride navigated upon the waters of the St. Lawrence River for 550 miles. This is a tad shy of sailing to Bermuda, which is a proper ocean voyage by any measure. At Montreal, the St. Lawrence becomes tidal. Depending on where you are when you hit the flood tide, you might have one knot or six knots of current against you. The St. Lawrence widens ever so gradually after Quebec City until eventually one loses sight of the far shore. By the time the river has blended into the Gulf of St. Lawrence, it is over 50 miles wide. At this point, the mouth of the St. Lawrence River dwarfs the Chesapeake Bay both in size and its potential to turn nasty.

The Gulf of St. Lawrence is an enclosed body of water, but this brings little solace to the mariner who may be caught out in the middle when the weather turns. It is cold and rough even beneath an August sun. The proximity of land, including the bold Gaspe Peninsula, the low lying sand spits called Iles de Madeleine, Anticosti Island, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick, Northern Quebec, Nova Scotia, Cape Breton, and Labrador, all serve to complicate the equation of how best to cross the Gulf under sail in this region of notoriously changeable weather. On the one hand, these islands and coasts can offer shelter from bad weather. By skirting close to shore, one may cleverly use the land to block the seas, yet still sail along in relative comfort. On the other hand, if the wind shifts to an unexpected quadrant or at an unexpected time, these same coasts may present deadly lee shores. A vessel may be forced to turn back, or, at the very least, resort to her engines or anchors. Or both.

After leaving Canadian waters, substantial tides affect progress across the Gulf of Maine, dragging a vessel north of her intended track on the flood and then slapping her back down with the ebb. If the goal is to reach southern New England, as ours was, then a choice must be made whether to go through the Cape Cod Canal or go outside. This is a choice made primarily on the basis of the weather, keeping in mind that a sailing ship wants wind. But if one chooses the outside route, there are the hazards of Nantucket Shoals and shoal water found on Georges Bank. If a gale drops down from the north, or a hurricane, such as Cindy, Dennis, or Floyd, ambles up the coast while you are fooling around out east of Cape Cod, you may find yourself back in Nova Scotia picking the Canadian coins out of your penny jar so you can buy a newspaper, and thinking maybe you should have motored across the Gulf of Maine when you had the chance. Enough on the theoretical. Here's what happened....