Monday 31 December 2018

2018 Retrospective

Normally, at this time of year, I would do several posts of my favourite photos from the year, across several of my favourite subjects. I've run out of time this year, so I will settle for a single post with some of my highlights from 2018.

January saw our family's first visit to the new Halifax Oval for some skating. I managed to make it around a few times without falling down, so I count that as a win. I'm not much of a skater.

I didn't have to use one of the red contraptions to stand up on my skates, but I wasn't far from it.
MV Asterix, whose progress I keenly followed after her arrival in Halifax, was a prominent feature in the harbour during this time. Asterix is the RCN's new interim AOR, a one-stop-shop for deployed Navy ships to refuel and replenish from at sea.

Asterix heading out for some trials.
In February, I was present for the haul-out of HMCS SACKVILLE on HMC Dockyard's Syncrolift, and her transition into the Submarine Maintenance Facility there. 

SACKVILLE lifting from the water for the first time in a number of years.

SACKVILLE inside the submarine maintenance building.
My photos of SACKVILLE's refit caught the eye of the editor of Warships International Fleet Review magazine out of the United Kingdom, and my first article in that magazine covering her restoration appeared in the May 2018 issue. A second article on the addition of MV Asterix to the RCN fleet followed in the July issue, and two more articles are slated for 2019. This partly accounts for my reduced blogging frequency in 2018. 

March saw the formal ceremony welcoming MV Asterix to the RCN fleet. I was fortunate enough to be invited, and toured the ship a couple of times during the winter and spring.

The crew lines the rail prior to the ceremony.

Asterix's civilian master, centre, with Vice Admiral Ron Lloyd to his left.
In contrast, March also saw the final departure of the former HMCS ATHABASKAN - on her way to the breaker's yard.

Athabaskan's final depature. 
Ospreys aren't a common sight in downtown Dartmouth, at least not when you get away from the harbour. When someone told me back in April that there was an osprey eating a fish on top of a utility pole on Thistle Street, I had to grab my camera and take a look. I wasn't disappointed.



The first Sunday in May is Battle of the Atlantic Sunday, and in recent years I have participated by photographing the service and committal ceremony off Point Pleasant Park - this year from HMCS HALIFAX. In a pleasant change from last year, the weather was actually conducive to taking the ship out, instead of observing the ceremony alongside back in HMC Dockyard (inside a very crowded hangar).

Service on HALIFAX's flight deck.

Committal of ashes.
In June, I checked in on the progress of SACKVILLE's refit and hull repairs. At the time, she was painted in red primer ("red lead"), and work was continuing.

SACKVILLE's hull coated in "red lead".
June also saw the first visit to Halifax of the Portuguese sail training vessel SAGRES II in many years. This was one of the high points in a year with relatively few Halifax port calls by ships of foreign navies.

SAGRES II approaches the quay.
In July, I heard that the schooner Amasonia was being rebuilt and would soon relaunch from Bill Lutwick's boatyard in Indian Point, NS - a short jaunt from the family cottage. Of course, I had to visit and take some photos - Amasonia was a prominent feature on our stretch of the LaHave River when I was a kid.

Amasonia in Bill Lutwick's boat shop.
The end of August and early September saw the family driving to, around, and from the Magdalen Islands (Les Iles de la Madeleine), located at the end of a five hour ferry crossing from Souris, PEI. The beautiful scenery and friendly people made for an enjoyable visit, and my camera was seldom not busy documenting the landscape. My earlier blog post on this trip can be found here.

Lighthouse at Cape Alright with Entry Island in the background.
In September, I checked in on SACKVILLE, still in the maintenance building. Her hull repairs were complete, and workers were putting the finishing touches on her new paint job.

A worker paints on the draught markings at SACKVILLE's stem.
My commercial shipping photography has been lagging behind other subjects this year, but I did manage to grab a few well-timed shots of YM Moderation on my way home from capturing SACKVILLE.

YM Moderation heading up the harbour, approaching my vantage point on the Macdonald Bridge.
In the first of several instances where I regretted not taking my proper camera on my daily walk in Public Gardens, I had to run back to my office so that I could get pictures of a Great Blue Heron standing on top of the Titanic model floating in the pond there. 

This was one hazard that the original Titanic didn't have to contend with.
September was fairly busy - it also saw the launch of the first of the new Arctic & Offshore Patrol Vessels, the future HMCS HARRY DEWOLF.

Harry Dewolf, with the after two-thirds of the future HMCS MARGARET BROOKE on the hard in the background.
The end of September into early October saw me in the UK, kicking around the roads of northern Scotland. Based in Dornoch, I made multiple day trips all across the north, including one overnight trip with a stay in Kinlochbervie. I will hopefully post a blog specifically about this trip, but for now I will just link to my image gallery on Smugmug.

A boat house on Loch Stack.
In October, shortly after I returned home from Scotland, I returned to HMC Dockyard to witness SACKVILLE's return to the water. Looking pretty smart in her new paint job, it took three attempts spread over several weeks to accomplish her re-floating - small leaks scuppered the first two attempts. 

SACKVILLE returning to the waters of Halifax Harbour.
For the last few years, friends and I have gone out to photograph Nocturne, the once-a-year nighttime art festival in downtown Halifax and Dartmouth. 



The NS Potters Guild were set up in the Lieutenant Governor's house. 
The autumn colours were still in full swing at the start of November, ensuring that Public Gardens was still a pleasant stroll despite the cooler temperatures. 

Halifax Public Gardens.
Not two weeks later, however, things looked a little different in the city.

This tree set against a brick building, across from the old Halifax Central Library, frequently draws my attention.
And a week or so after this, I had to go to another place that was experiencing snow - Alberta.

Alberta field.

Alberta field.
These last two photos were taken with my new toy, a Sigma 16mm f/1.4 lens (24mm on APS-C). Though relatively inexpensive, it appears to be sharp from corner to corner, and is my new primary lens that gets left on the camera body most of the time.

2018 saw the retirement of the CH-124 Sea King from Canadian service, with the final flights on the West Coast. It is therefore now more common to see the new CH-148 Cyclone flying overhead in Halifax.

Catching the blur of the rotor blades of a moving helicopter from a moving platform such as the ferry can be challenging - at 1/80th of a second my photos are usually blurry, so I now try for 1/100th or slightly faster. 
Come December, it is time for the Dartmouth Tree Lighting, which this year was accompanied by fireworks off Alderney Landing. These images were taken hand-held using the aforementioned new Sigma lens.





Public Gardens continued to be a draw for me, both before and after the next major snowfall. 

Still-green foliage along the shore of a frozen pond.

I caught this while the still-falling snow was clinging to the trees and their branches, before wind and melt could take it away.
I finished the year off with some abandoned building exploration, which is always a favourite subject of mine.

Looking up an elevator shaft.

Looking back, 2018 was quite eventful for me, even though it seemed like a long slog at many times along the way. Hopefully 2019 will be just as eventful, but perhaps a little less trying.


Saturday 8 December 2018

The Cape LaHave, the Vesta and the Great Ocean Yacht Race

In the summer of 1925 when Robert McClearn (my grandfather) was 15, he joined the three-masted schooner Cape LaHave for a trip from Nova Scotia to the West Indies. 

With no power or refrigeration, sailing vessels in the early 1900s were still limited in what they could carry to feed the crew. Presumably salted fish was a staple, or fish otherwise caught during the voyage. The Cape LaHave therefore carried a small allotment of live chickens to break up the monotony of fish. 

From my recollection of the story told to me by my grandfather, young Robert was given the task of building a chicken coop out of the available materials onboard, which was limited to some wooden slats and some nails. My grandfather did his best to fashion the chicken coop out of these basic materials, but the Cape LaHave soon ran into bad weather, and he very soon became seasick - so sick that the ship's captain apparently thought he was going to have to put him ashore. Although my grandfather recovered enough to continue on the voyage, the chicken coop fell prey to a wave that swept over the ship and smashed it to bits. The remains, along with all but a single chicken, were swept overboard. My grandfather said he remembered the single remaining chicken perched, soaking wet, on the leeward rail of the ship - that is, until a second wave swept it overboard as well. The crew was forced to fall back on salted fish for the rest of the trip, and young Robert was not very popular.

My grandfather made several models when he was a child, some of which our family still has. The finest of them (in my opinion) is a model of a Grand Banks fishing schooner.

Schooner model made by Robert McClearn.
When he returned from his West Indies trip, he built two models of the Cape LaHave using materials available around the house. Although neither model was finished, the family story is that he spent so much time on the finer of the two models (pictured below) that he had to repeat his Grade 11.

The model of the Cape LaHave. It is unfinished, and has seen better days, with some damage to the rigging apparent. As well, there are cracks in the deck from drying out.
A tweet from the Nova Scotia Maritime Museum of the Atlantic on Twitter this morning about a seemingly unconnected event prompted me to finish this blog post, something I started over a year ago.


On December 11, 1866, three yachts left the Sandy Hook light ship off New York behind and set sail for the Isle of Wight in what became known as The Great Ocean Yacht Race.

The Currier & Ives poster, sketched by Charles Parsons, of "The Great Ocean Yacht Race". It is also in the Library of Congress collection
The print itself is quite well known in certain circles, and Salvador Dali apparently created his own interpretation of the print in 1971. The 1866 race came about after the owners of the Fleetwing and Vesta were overheard at the New York Yacht Club discussing the various merits of each vessel, by the owner of the third vessel, the Henrietta. A race with a winner-takes-all $90,000 prize ensued: starting  the race off Sandy Hook, NJ, on December 11th of that year, the Henrietta arrived off the Needles, Isle of Wight, on December 25th after 13 days and 22 hours. Fleetwing arrived 8 hours later on December 26th, and Vesta arrived a mere 1.5 hours after that. Not bad for a trans-Atlantic race.

Many years later, immediately before or during 1916, my great-grandfather purchased a yacht named the Vesta (we assume the same vessel, though she would have been at least 50 years old by this time) for commercial use. Her yachting interior was stripped out and sold off - some pieces remained in the family's possession, including apparently a sideboard in my great-grandfather's house. For her first commercial voyage, she was loaded with lumber in her new home port of Liverpool, NS. On the Liverpool waterfront at Fort Point, she is captured in a photograph on an information display board.

The information display board on the Liverpool waterfront. Note the photo in the centre.

A schooner loading lumber in Liverpool, NS, in the summer of 1916. One of the boys sitting at the bow is my great-uncle Jack, roughly age 9. 

Looking closely, the schooner is revealed to be the Vesta.
Vesta's maiden commercial voyage from her new home port to New York wasn't exactly a success -  she was promptly wrecked near Cape Sable (the wreck database says "5 miles east of Seal Island") on 21 July 1916, a total loss. It being wartime, the lack of navigation lights may have contributed to the wreck. My grandfather recalled finding her wheel displayed in a front yard on Cape Sable years later.

Growing up in his father's house in Liverpool, NS, there would have been various bits and pieces of the Vesta lying around - including the piece of wood that he used for the base of his model of the Cape LaHave.

Wednesday 5 December 2018

Survey Benchmarks (Updated)

Note: This post updated on 1 Jan 2019 with some material from the DFO website that previously eluded me.

Sometimes, you find interesting things when you look down. Before boarding the ferry to the Magdalen Islands, I walked out onto the pier in Souris, PEI, to watch the C.T.M.A Madeleine arrive. Looking down at my feet, I spied what remained of a piece of bronze that was cast into the concrete deck may years previous.



Although damaged, I recognized (more or less) what this was. Way back in 1997, while taking my engineering degree at the Technical University of Nova Scotia (TUNS, now part of Dalhousie University), I spent a work term with the Canadian Hydrographic Service (CHS) - the organization whose name is partly obscured on the top of the bronze pin above. In my time with CHS, I "assisted" in the production of some of their charts that were being renewed at that time - I'm not sure that anything I produced ever actually made it into print.

After graduation and my return to Canada after two years abroad, I joined an engineering consulting firm in Halifax, and I spent several weeks inspecting the installation of a new brow stand on the south dolphin pier at Nova Scotia Power's Tuft's Cove generating station in Dartmouth, NS. A similar pin was cast into the concrete deck of this dolphin, and during the work, the concrete deck of the dolphin was jackhammered away. I took possession of the pin, and called one of my former co-workers at CHS to let them know that pin number 6444 was no longer in its original position and could no longer be relied upon for survey purposes. 

CHS benchmark #6444, removed from the pier in front of the Tuft's Cove Generating Station.

The bottom of CHS benchmark #6444, removed from the pier in front of the Tuft's Cove Generating Station.
CHS and other similar organizations, including the Canadian Geodetic Survey, use a system of these pins to provide geodetic benchmarks, or known points, to aid in their survey work and the maintenance of their maps and charts.

From the Fisheries & Oceans website (http://www.waterlevels.gc.ca/eng/info/benchmarks/):

"Benchmarks are the fixed elevation markers against which the zero setting of the gauge is checked during its operation, from which hydrographers may recover chart datum for future surveys, and through which surveyors and engineers may relate their surveys and structures to chart datum. Hydrographic benchmarks landmark the elevation of the benchmarks above chart datum and this procedure is basic to charting and gauging procedures. Only the Hydrographic Service of Canada may assign or alter the elevation quoted for a benchmark above chart datum.

As part of the installation procedure of any water level gauge, a minimum of three benchmarks are established in the immediate vicinity (½ km) of the gauge, with no two in the same feature or structure. The elevation difference between the preliminary gauge zero and each of the benchmarks is then determined by accurate spirit levelling. When the elevation of chart datum is finally chosen with respect to the preliminary gauge zero, the benchmark elevations are converted and recorded in the benchmark descriptions as elevations above chart datum. If the water level gauge is to continue in operation, its permanent zero would be set to chart datum. The benchmarks provide for the recovery of chart datum in future surveys and for consistency in the setting of gauge zero for all water level measurements at the same site."

The website continues with the following regarding Vertical Datums (http://www.waterlevels.gc.ca/eng/info/verticaldatums/):

"All surveyed features on a navigational chart are positioned on some horizontal datum system such as NAD27 (North American Datum of 1927) or NAD83 (North American Datum of 1983). In addition to a horizontal datum reference, all charts also require a vertical datum reference.

For navigational safety, depths on a chart are shown from a low-water surface or a low-water datum called chart datum. Chart datum is selected so that the water level will seldom fall below it and only rarely will there be less depth available than what is portrayed on the chart. The following three criteria place somewhat more restriction on its choice: chart datum should be:


  1. so low that the water level will but seldom fall below it,
  2. not so low as to cause the charted depths to be unrealistically shallow, and
  3. it should vary only gradually from area to area and from chart to adjoining chart, to avoid significant discontinuities.

On most Canadian coastal charts the surface of lower low water, large tide, or LLWLT , has been adopted as chart datum, but the term " lowest normal tide, " or " LNT, " has been retained on the charts since it encompasses a variety of other choices for chart datum on some older charts.

The choice of a chart datum is usually more difficult on inland waters than on coastal waters because inland waters lack the stabilizing influence the huge ocean reservoir exerts on the mean water level. Whereas a 2-month water level record at a coastal location provides sufficient tidal information to determine a reasonably accurate chart datum, many years of record may be necessary to provide the information on seasonal and secular fluctuations in mean water level required to determine chart datum on lakes and rivers. In non-tidal waters, chart datum is set so that the water level will be above datum approximately 95% of the time. A preferred guideline is that the daily mean water level should " never " fall more than 0.2 m below the chart datum during the navigation season.

The water level of a lake or river is always changing due to variations in supply and discharge or in meteorological conditions. Dry and wet periods in many drainage basins such as the Great Lakes seem to occur in several-year cycles, causing corresponding periods of low and high water. Chart datum must be set with the low-stage years in mind and may appear pessimistically low during high-stage years. On most lakes a single, level surface is adopted as chart datum over the whole lake. Along a river, chart datum is a sloping surface that approximates the slope of the river surface at low stage.

In non-tidal waters, chart datums are often assigned an elevation on some vertical reference system. On the Great Lakes, water level and chart datum elevations are presently referenced to International Great Lakes Datum 1985 (Fig. 1. IGLD 1985). Some of the previous vertical reference systems used for charting on the Great Lakes are IGLD 1955, USLS 1903 (U.S. Lake Survey 1903 Datum) and USLS 1935."

Interestingly (to me, anyway), while standing high above the harbour on a lookout over Cap-aux-Meules Harbour, I spied a similar survey benchmark pin. 

The lookoff in Cap-aux-Meules really does have a commanding view.

The benchmark pin on the lookoff in Cap-aux-Meules. 
Almost unreadable, I notice that there does not appear to be anything on this particular pin indicating it belongs to CHS. 

In the case of the three examples here, all were located in horizontal surfaces. Others may be found in walls, and may have horizontal lines through them to indicate a known elevation - and may have the letters BM, for bench mark, stamped into them.

Being many years beyond the single survey course that I took in 1995 or so, I'm not up on the finer points of how these benchmarks are located or used, or for that matter whether they are still used to any great extent - modern electronic survey technology may have rendered them superfluous. At the very least, I was unable to find any reference in the CHS online database to stations 6234 or 6444 - with the former damaged, and the latter removed, this may not be surprising - but the database seems to have a limited number of stations listed, and CHS may have culled their full inventory due to technological advances or simply the cost of maintaining them all. If I figure it out, I will update this post again.

Saturday 1 December 2018

Magdalen Islands

Located north-east of Prince Edward Island, the Magdalen Islands (or Les Iles de la Madeleine in local parlance) are a mere 5 hours away from Souris, PEI, by ferry, or they can also be visited by plane via the small airport. In our case, the ferry was the C.T.M.A Madeleine, and the trip was smooth and uneventful. 

C.T.M.A. Madeleine arriving in Souris, PEI. Madeleine ran like clockwork during our visit, making two round trips per day with one-hour turn-arounds between voyages at each of Souris and Cap-aux-Meules. She frequently appears in the background of my vacation photos.
Lying off the primary port of Cap-aux-Meules on the central Grindstone Island, Entry Island (or Isle d'Entree) is an imposing feature that is visible from at least some point on all the other main islands. Most of the islands have both French and anglicized names, of which I use a mixture of both here. 

An imposing Entry Island silhouetted against the late afternoon sun.

Sailboat approaching Entry Island on sun reflecting waters. 

Rolling hills of green sitting on the sandstone cliffs of Entry Island.
We booked a small cottage near the beach in nearby La Martinique, and despite all the vehicles leaving the ferry it was a short and easy trip to get there from Cap-aux-Meules. La Martinique proved to be a good central location for our travels, and provided easy access for me to several good settings for sunrise and sunset photos. 

Sunset on our first evening from L'Etang-du-Nord on Grindstone Island. There may also have been ice cream.

Dusk in L'Etang-du-Nord.

Sunrise from Parc de Gros Cap.

Sunrise from near Portage-du-Cap on Havre Aubert Island. Entry Island is on the horizon to the right.

Sunrise over Anse Firmin from Cape Alright on Ile-du-Havre-aux-Maisons. 

Sunset in L'Etang-du-Nord harbour.
As a part of the Province of Quebec, the islands are predominantly French-speaking, although the island to the far north-east, named Old Harry, has English roots. Despite their French background, many of the residents speak at least some English, and with those who don't, the remainder of my high school French was sufficient in most cases to at least order food at the many restaurants. In our experience, the residents were all very friendly.

The archipelago consists primarily of islands of sandstone bedrock sitting on a salt dome, with dune beaches connecting most of the major islands. There is therefore no shortage of beaches.

Utility poles running along the dune beach between Grindstone and Havre Aubert islands.

Entry Island as seen from Sandy Hook beach on the southern side of Havre Aubert Island. 

L'Hopital Beach in Fatima on Grindstone Island.
Speaking of the salt dome, the islands have been home to a salt mine since the 1980s. I would recommend giving the visitor's centre a miss, however - pricey admission for little payoff.

Loading wharf at the Canadian Salt Company mine on western end of Old Harry.
In other locations, the sandstone bedrock is much more obvious. I expected the Magdalens to be a sting of flat sand bars, but they have their share of cliffs and hills.

Waves crash into the sandstone cliffs near L'Etang-du-Nord.

Cliffs ring the shore along Anse Firmin, as seen from Cape Alright.
For the photographer, there are also a number of scenic lighthouses.

Lighthouse of L'Anse-a-la-Cabane along the southern shore of Havre Aubert.

Lighthouse at Cape Alright at sunrise.
I also took a few opportunities to photograph some of the local wildlife.

Sandpiper.
From asking on Twitter, apparently this is a Semipalmated plover.

Cormorant colony at Cape Alright.

Cormorant flying alongside the ferry on our departure from Cap-aux-Meules.
Active lifestyle aficionados seem to enjoy the summer in the Magdalens. Although packed with cars and other vehicles, many of the cars carried bike racks, and some of the passengers actually arrived at the ferry on their bikes. The islands are compact enough that it is perfectly viable to see them entirely via bicycle, and although their are hills, most of the roads are relatively flat. Others come to the Magdalens by boat, or otherwise for the windsurfing and kite surfing opportunities. 

Kite surfing between the barrier dunes just east of Havre Aubert island.

Kayaking braving the surf at L'Hopital Beach on Grindstone island.
Being the boat and ship nerd that I am, there were plenty of opportunities for me to photograph the boats in the various fishing ports spread throughout the islands. 

Fishing boat returning to L'Etang-du-Nord at dusk. The wreck in the background is apparently a floating dry dock that broke its tow and ran aground just outside the harbour - regrettably, I couldn't get closer than this for photos.

Fishing boat at La Grave on Havre Aubert Island.
Fishing boats and other vessels, including C.T.M.A Voyageur, and the formerly Nova Scotia-based tug Spanish Mist, in Cap-aux-Meules.

Sunset in L'Etang-du-Nord harbour.
After several thoroughly enjoyable days in the Magdalens, our time was at an end, and the day after the last image above we had to make our way to the ferry terminal early the next morning. Although dark and cloudy that morning, I found the lighting to be supremely interesting from the ferry.

Entry Island seen from the deck of C.T.M.A Madeleine.

Entry Island seen from the deck of C.T.M.A Madeleine.

Crepuscular rays filtered through the clouds over the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

Before we knew it, we were back in Souris.
After another uneventful ferry trip back to Souris, we made it back to our home in Dartmouth before evening.

The link to my complete image gallery is here