Nova Scotia was named by Sir William Alexander, who received a grant to all the land between New England and Newfoundland from King James VI of Scotland (King James I of England) in 1621. The official charter was in Latin and the name "New Scotland" retained its Latin form.

After topping up our diesel, and I paid the marina fees, Kelly dropped the mooring and we waved adieu to Shelburne. Not much traffic on a Saturday, except a tug towing what looked like a small military support vessel. They kindly stayed toward the outside of the amply wide channel. Plenty of visibility this morning but overcast leftover from the rain last night.

Just before emerging into the chop east of McNutt Island, I turned upwind and Kelly did her thing, raising the main to capture a mild 12 knot breeze.

Thinking of a Lynyrd Skynyrd song.

Ooh that smell
Can’t you smell that smell
Ooh that smell…

No, our immediate situation is not so dark, as the song’s next line might indicate; I realize these lyrics are out of context to our own, but that’s how my mind just finds lyrics applicable to present thoughts.

I noticed the acrid electrical aroma about twenty minutes into the ride south out of Shelburne Harbor.

But now about ten nautical miles into this day-hop passage Ooh that smell is really starting to become unavoidable.

We frequently use an exhaust fan which sucks air from the engine compartment, with the intake just hovering above the alternator. It’s an effort to keep the oversized alternator cool. The fan was on now, and given we’ve had past alternator issues (but hoping resolved), I had suspicions of what might be cooking in there.

I tried to ignore it. Even so, when Kelly went below I opened the locker cover to quickly check the temperature reading from the alternator regulator that displays battery and alternator temperatures. Looking ok at 86C. Not to worry… too much.

But then Kelly’s head arose from the companionway, her face making a wrinkling nose, indicating ooh that smell.

I opened up the engine hatch from the cockpit. Nothing obviously smoking there. Area of concern: the alternator, accessible from under the companionway steps. The smell increased, but no smoke. Out comes the little infrared temperature gun ($15 – thank you Harbor Freight). Yup, it’s cooking inside, on the armature it’s showing 248F. Yikes that’s kinda hot. Fortunately, our batteries were about fully charged, and hence, the temperature dropped as the charging subsided. Let’s just cut our passage to Lunenburg a bit shorter and get to a comfortable destination before starting next steps: Carter Beach.

Gotta love the names for some of these places, wondering how they came to be… routing around Devestation Shoal, Massacre Island…

Now safely anchored, let’s have a beverage, a game of cribbage and contemplation about next steps.

Poured 5-gallon buckets overnight. Now rested in the AM, I replaced the belt on the engine, and further reduced the alternator capacity by reprogramming the regulator. Seems to be happier now. Yup, we’re up and away again in pea-soup fog, lucky to have 3/4 miles visibility. But that’s what AIS and radar are handy for!

Next up: Lunenburg. Meeting Goldie at the Rum Distillery, and his vessel Black Beauty.