Last Days in Newfoundland

Our final day in this wonderful province was a Sunday, which meant that many things were closed. Since none of us was asking to go to a church service that morning, Kevin took us to the MUN Botanical Gardens for a nice walkabout. The day was cold, but clear (we actually had a few minutes of hail just in case we had forgotten that winter was coming).

And after that, we went to the restaurant Bacalau, supposed to be one of the best in the city, for their brunch. Unfortunately, a disappointment, mostly due to the service. But our last meal, and still a pretty good one.

The remainder of our tour was spent at Devon House, the Arts Council headquarters, art gallery, and of course store. We were met there by Kelly Jane Bruton, an artist who has done several works based on the fossils of Mistaken Point, south of the city. These fossils are some of the oldest ever found in the world. They are representations of the earliest life forms we know about. They were again quite wonderful.



And they represented the last things we did as a group. After pictures and good-byes, Darlene and I walked back to the hotel, got our bags and moved to the B & B. we were greeted warmly by Mary and Louie, as if we were old friends. It was really nice, and felt sincere.

And a piece of serendipity: we went looking for a place for a simple supper, and stopped into the a pub, the Yellowbelly, and ran into Dave Paddon from the ship, along with his wife Kim. They invited us to sit down, and we had quite a nice chat before we all went again on our separate ways. What a friendly place this is!

An early return to the bed and breakfast, some time on the deck overlooking the city, and then to bed.

Today is our return to reality. Sad to leave such a nice place; I have a feeling we'll return. The morning was taken up with a long talk with our hosts, followed by a brief walk downtown. One of our surprises today was the entry to the harbour of a Russian tall ship, not under sail but still magnificent.



The off to the airport, and the long trip home, by car, boat, plane, and train—as well as by foot. Needless to say, I collapsed into bed when I got home.

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Location:St. John's

Cupids and such

Today was our day out of town. We had a minibus booked to drive us the hour down to Cupids. This is a small town on Conception Bay, where the first English settlement in Canada was started 402 years ago. They have found and are uncovering the remains of the 17th Century buildings in the town, and have actually set up a national historic site for this.

After visiting the interpretation centre, we went down the street to the dig site, and met with the archeologist Bill Gilbert, who showed us what they had accomplished over the years he had been working there. It was fascinating and wonderful. We could have spent many hours with him, but had to go on.



Our next stop was in Brigus, where we went out to Kent Cottage, run by the Landfall Trust. This is a very pleasant cottage at the end of the road, on a height of land overlooking the ocean, isolated from almost everything. It is available for rent to anyone, with a preference for artists looking for solitude. The photo is looking back towards the town from the path into the cottage.


Then off for a Newfoundland lunch at the Mad Rocks cafe in Bay Roberts. After a meal of fish and brewis, fish cakes, baked beans, and toutons, we felt more like a sleep than doing other things. But we did stop in town to see the building which was the western terminus for the trans-Atlantic cable from the early 20th Century until the late 1970's (it's now a museum, and art gallery).

Home took a while, and sleep before supper was a necessity. Then supper out at Olivers (again good). Now to bed.

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Location:St. John's

St. John's art crawl.

We're now back in St. John's, where we have been involved in an Art Tour of the city and surrounding area. As I write this, on October 13, we are about to go out for dinner with our Group of Five, having spent the day out around Conception Bay, visiting areas there.

But let me back up. Getting to St. John's overnight was a rough go, but in fact we both slept pretty well. It is always hard to say good-bye, and this group had the experience of a death to bring us closer than we otherwise might have been. So there were a lot of hugs and fond farewells. The Pilot Boat pulled alongside to guide us through the Narrows into the harbour, and before you knew it we were on our way to the hotel.

Our fist afternoon with Kevin Major (our guide) was busy and very interesting.
He took us to Quidi Vidi village, and to a building called "The Plantation". This is right on the end of the "gut", or sound in from the sea. This village was and is a fishing village, so there were fishing boats present in the gut. But it has become a gentrified place, so one of the buildings is a micro-brewery. However, back to the Plantation. This is a two-story artists' studio area, wherein artists can apply for space to do their craft, and are also taught business practices. We spent time with each of several people, from a print-maker to a potter to a fabric artist. And the day outside was just as it should have been: foggy and windy.


We then went to the Emma Butler Gallery, in town. She handles many artists, including David Blackwood, and she remembered fondly our friends Barry and Nancy, who had bought from her some hears ago. Dinner that night was at "Aqua", and was universally wonderful for all six of us.

Friday began early with a ride up to the top of Signal Hill. It was a sunny, clear day, but windy. I thought I would be blown off my feet, literally, the wind was so strong. We walked around, got blown and cold, and watched a whale spout several times off in the ocean. Already it was a good day.

But after that we went to see the Veiled Virgin, a statue at the Presentation Convent next to the Basilica. The picture doesn't do it justice.


And the Convent was across the street from "The Rooms", Newfoundland's recently-built main art gallery, museum, and archives building. What a magnificent structure, and building. We could have easily spent the whole day, but did manage to spend about four hours at the place, including lunch.

Then off to the gallery of John McDonald, a young and coming artist who was quite good at sharing his techniques and his interests with us. He shares a space with Philipa Jones, who is a print-maker. And this was also quite fun. We get the impression that this city has a vibrant arts community, large enough to have energy, and small enough that they know each other and share a lot. Quite impressive. The picture is of John, with Kevin on the right.


This was a busy day. After John's studio, we went to another gallery (Leyton Gallery), then to the Crow's Nest, which is an old officer's club now open to all, but still in the style of a WW2 club. A beer was had.

Supper at Bistro Sophia, again delicious (particularly their desserts), and then to Kevin's house for a few hours with his friends Christina Smith (a fiddler) and her partner Chris Brooks (a storyteller and CBC documentary producer). It was good, albeit too short for my liking. To bed later than usual.

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Location:St. John's

A Time in France

Our last full day was spent, after a quiet overnight sailing, in the town of St. Pierre. The islands of St. Pierre and Miquelon are just twenty kilometres off the coast of Newfoundland, and are part of France.
(It turns out that this has an importance in recent, as well as more distant, history. France's vast North American holdings were gradually whittled away by their conflicts with the Brits, and this is all that remains. And in the thirties, during American prohibition, these islands were the only place in North America where it was legal to to sell and trade alcohol. So it became the place where Canadian liquor was taken to be shipped illegally to the U.S.)
A pretty little town of six thousand, perched on rock. Quaint in many ways, narrow streets and painted houses. High unemployment now that the fisheries have almost disappeared. But still doing okay thanks to the central French government. Sixty percent of the jobs here are government jobs. Income tax is pegged at ten percent. Social services are good, as they are in France itself. Education is free, up to and including university or college, although students need to go to France for post-secondary education. And the state will even cover some of the cost of transportation for the students.
We had a lovely time there. My only regret is that I missed the store which was selling red berets. Paul Dean, the geologist, got one and it looked wonderful.
Back on the ship for an early departure, since we had a long way to go. That evening, after supper, was the talent night (this place really was a lot like a summer camp!), and Darlene was performing a song with another women, Martha.




The night went well, and we were all tired when we went to bed in a rocky ship on a windy ocean. Tomorrow as back to St. John's.
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Location:St. Pierre et Miquelon

The South Shore

The last three days we have been traveling the South Shore of the Island. We had quite heavy seas coming around the south-west corner of the island around Port-aux-Basques. But it got a bit better once we were on the south shore. Winds here are mostly from the south, so are on-shore. We were glad to get to Garia Bay, more sheltered from the ocean, and quite beautiful to boot.
There was a venture planned on-shore. But the weather was cool, grey and raining. So we decided to spend the day on the ship. Turns out that we had forgotten about the maxim for Maritime weather: if you don't like it, wait an hour. After the Zodiacs had gone ashore, the weather turned very nice, sunny and warm.








Well, you can't win them all, and we had a lovely lazy day reading and sleeping. The evening was spent in a singalong. Darlene was up late, and got a bit of a reputation as a singer.
Next day, we moved a bit further along to an area of the coast dotted with fjords. One of the beauties of a smaller ship is that it can negotiate its way into these relatively narrow bays, and our group took advantage of this. We went into White Bear Bay (actually a fjord), "parked" the ship, and took the zodiacs out for a cruise further up the fjord. Turns out that this area had been a small community before resettlement, but is now used for "camps" or summer homes. People fishing and hunting moose (we saw one boat go by with a large dead moose in it). People came out from their cabins to take pictures of us: they had never seen so many people at once in their bay.
But we moved on to Ramea, a town on an island off the coast. Interesting that this town has developed wind power a bit, as an experimental project from Nfld. Power. They were a fishing town, until 1993 when the plant closed down. Their population has dropped by two-thirds. Their school, which is modern and has all the good facilities, has only forty students through all the grades.
In spite of this, they have a great spirit. They put on a spread for us, and challenged us to a friendly soccer game (we lost).
We bought a locally-made quilt, but first had to get money from the local ATM.




Our next stop was to be in Francois (pronounced by their residents as france-way). On the way there, we went into another fjord, at Bay La Hume. The rocks there were spectacular. But we were told by our resident geologist that they were only young— just 3.4 million years old!




After that it was on to Francois. This is a town of about 100 souls which refused to be relocated, back in the 60's. Its residents continue to fish and live, in spite of the fact that there is no road to it, and all supplies come by boat on an occasional basis. There are no cars, only four-wheel ATVs, which run on boardwalks or sidewalks. Geographically, or perhaps geologically, it is situated in an old volcano, as you can see from the photos. But it is beautiful, in a frankly stark way.








After a long walk from the town up to the lookout and back, we returned to ship for supper, then went back into town for what they call a "kitchen party", but is actually in a hall, with music and dancing. The sky was totally clear and still when we returned for the night to the ship in our Zodiacs, and the stars were, again, amazing.
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Location:Francois

A day of sadness

We had a sad day. Two reasons really: we visited the site of a town which had been re-located forcefully in the 1960's; and we had the death of one of our co-passengers. Both very difficult situations.
Emotionally, the easier part for us was our visit to Brake's Cove, an outport of maybe 200, which had been "resettled" under Smallwood's government in the 60's.




The government had decided they couldn't afford to provide services to all the small outports of Newfoundland, so decided that many would be resettled into some of the larger ones. So Brake's Cove, which had been a home for many families for a century and more, ceased to exist. Many homes were left intact, although some were put on boats and moved to "town". The land remained in the families, and some of those families continue to use the land for summer cottages. But nobody lives there permanently any more. It is very sad for those people, even yet. Joan, the wife of Tony Dixon(who is the Mayor of Cox's Cove), gets tearful when talking about the resettlement.
And we visited, with the help of some of the displaced citizens, this place of memories; went to the cemetery, walked the beach, saw the cottages, and generally explored.
Until the second sad event happened. Michael, a sixty year old man with Huntington's Disease, had bravely been part of our group, clambering down the ladders to the Zodiacs, walking the trails with us, and doing what he had wanted with little assistance. Today, however, was his day to die. He was eating a marshmallow cooked over a beach fire, when he likely choked and seized, and then collapsed. Many of us worked on him for over an hour, got him out by boat and ambulance to Cornerbrook, but failed to bring him back. It was terrible trauma for the staff who worked on him, and for the other passengers who were present. And of course for his wife Colleen. It reminded us all of the importance of living in the moment. Michael had always wanted to go the Newfoundland, and he had done it. It was the best day in terms of weather we have had so far. So in those senses he did well. But, well, you know.... Brake's Cove had another casualty.
Some of the day's program was cancelled out of respect. We still had a song and dance in the town of Cox's Cove, along with a ceremony that granted me (among other people) citizenship in Newfoundland (the "ceremony" included a challenge about their language; dancing a jig; a shot of Screech drunk quickly; and kissing a codfish!). This community was great, helping us to get through a hard day with grace and humour. We treated them to a tour of the ship, and they were out in force to wave us good-bye from the wharf, as we sailed off.








The evening on the ship was the showing of the NFB film "Hard Place" based on the book by Michael Crummey. A moving exploration of life in the outports, based on his life and that of his parents and grandparents in the old days, by an author I will read more from.
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Location:Cox's Cove

Gros Morne

I had been looking forward to this day for some time. The pictures of the park are amazing, awe-inspiring. And I wanted what those pictures showed. But the day was grey and rainy, so it wasn't to be, not like that at least.

We had steamed through the night, so by the time we were at breakfast, we were into the fiords of the park. We entered into the main one, then took a turn to the right (the south), into a smaller area. We were going to Rocky Point, a small town known for its cultural activities. This was a "dry landing", which means that we were ferried into a dock, not a beach, so didn't get our feet wet.



We were met at the dock by a group of local people, giving out information, pins, and candy kisses. They were wonderful: friendly, open, and accepting of our quirks as we came in. And they had a little friendly dog which helped us to feel at home.

After getting our boxed lunches, we were bussed to the Information Centre, and then from there began our hikes. Darlene had chosen to go onto the Tablelands (an area of the Park which had begun life as the bottom of the ancient Atlantic Ocean, so was ancient rock), and I had chosen to walk to the Lookout, an upward hike of about 500 metres over a kilometre and a half.

It's hard to say who got the better deal. I got less rain, but was wet from the sweat of walking up this steep incline. Plus I got beautiful views from the top of the walk. Darlene got more rain, but an easier walk overall, and had the advantage of a geologist to explain the old rocks they were walking on.



But we were both glad to get back to dry and warm conditions. When we met up back in the town, we were excited to know that there was actually wireless internet at the local cafe. A hasty consultation, and we managed a quick trip back to the ship for our computers, and we had a pleasant hour receiving emIl for the first time in most of a week. It was slow enough that we couldn't, for instance, post these blogs. But it allowed us to know a bit about what was going on in our outside world.

After a very pleasant visit, we hosted on board some of the staff of the town for supper, then we went in to town for a night of music and dance at their historic theatre hall. It was wonderful, tiring, and a fitting end to a good day.



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Location:Gros Morne National Park

Red Bay and L'Anse Amour

This was out day on the Labrador. We visited two communities: Red Bay and L'Anse Lamour.
The first of these was an area first settled by the early natives about 7,000 years ago; these were the ancestors of the Innu of today. Then came the group which would become the Inuit, out of the North. And the two groups lived an uneasy truce for many centuries until the 1500's, when the Basques began to arrive in search of whales.
The whale hunt was seasonal (nobody stayed over the winter except if there was a freak early winter storm). They set up their camps on Saddle Island, and proceeded to hunt, kill, and process the whales for their oil. Primarily, it was the Right Whale and the Blue Whale which were hunted, and it is estimated they killed tens of thousands during the fifty years or so they were at it. The whales would be pulled by the shore, then their blubber stripped and put in large copper casks which had been transported from the old country. Much of the whale was discarded as not needed or wanted, but the oil was valuable, serving most of Europe in its day. The industry was so valuable that the were insurance policies which covered it, and it was mentioned in wills. This was fortunate for archeologists, who used these documents to find the settlement and some of the artifacts. There is a sunken ship just off the coast of the island which has been well-preserved over time.
Some pictures were taken.








As you can see, the day was cloudy and a bit cold, appropriate for Labrador, I guess. So we decided to not go on the afternoon part of the program, which was at L'Anse Lamour, known for its lighthouse (the tallest in Canada and for some strange reason built out of stone but covered in wooden shingles which need to be painted every few years); and a large native burial ground from the early natives.
The evening was an on-board music night, with Daniel Payne talking about the types of music in old Newfoundland, and demonstrating each with his own playing.
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Location:Red Bay

Viking Exploration

This was our first time taking the zodiacs to shore. The day was foggy and rainy. Wind was about 15 knots, so there were fair waves. We were advised to wear rain gear, and a good thing that turned out to be. Temperature was cool— probably about eleven degrees.

By the time we got all organized, it was mid-morning. There is a door at he side of the ship which opens to stairs, and we descend these to the zodiacs. We were well-instructed, but it was still scary getting onto this small, bobbing rubber craft, with the waves splashing over the side, and the wind blowing hard enough that I almost lost my hat (even though it was strapped on). The trip to shore was only about half a kilometre, but that was more than enough for me.

Our first stop was to Norstead, a reconstruction of a Viking settlement sponsored by the local Tourist Association and Chamber of Commerce. It had closed for the season, but they re-opened it just for us. And I thought it was terrific. They have a Viking boat, built from models found archeologically. It is huge in one way, but seems small to go across the Atlantic. It would hold about thirty people, who would work and sleep in the boat for the three to four weeks required to go from Greenland to Newfoundland.




There was a long house, which would have housed about forty people (perhaps including five or six women). And they were able to demonstrate weaving, cooking, as well as blacksmithing (they got iron from the local bog and smelted it down). Food was grown (there were chickens and pigs, turnips and cabbage), hunted or fished. But the Norse were a trading peoples, so they had spices, including cumin. However, the interior of the building was quite smoky.

It is understood that women lived on average to their mid-thirties only. They would marry at thirteen, have children by fifteen, and be dead before forty. The men didn't live a lot longer, but at least were outside, so didn't have the thick smoke the women were subjected to.




The weather was turning bad, so we foreshortened the visit, and moved on to the National Park of L'Anse aux Meadows. The interpretive centre had some artifacts found at the site, but the main part was going through the excavated areas and the re-constructed buildings. And we were glad to be inside, since it was now raining, and windy.

The main building we saw inside of was again a long house, with a central kitchen and sleeping area, the chief's quarters on one end, and the forge on the other end. They had a sword and shield there, felt to be in the style and size of the Viking ones. Those guys were strong! It took a bit of heft to carry both of them.

But we had to get back to the ship, since the weather was turning ugly. Getting back across on the zodiacs was not fun, and we got quite wet on the outside. But we all made it back safely, and were glad to be warm and dry.

in the evening, we watched the interpretive film from the Park Service about the settlement. And again went to bed early. During the afternoon, we had moved to Red Bay for our next day's adventure.

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Location:L'Anse aux Meadows

Birthday Wanderings

The last two days have been busy. And full.
Monday was another day in St. John's. The day was grey and foggy-to-misty. A long breakfast, again, and then we walked up to Lemarchant Road, where I had lived when I was a resident all those years ago. And then a windy way back to our B & B. Mary, bless her heart, had offered to drive us to the ship, so we were glad to just rest at the house until our time. On the way back from our walk, we had passed through some very nice and prosperous neighbourhoods as well as some which had the look and feel of public housing. And we had stopped for a brief lunch at the "Hungry Heart" cafe, which is being used to train people with mental health concerns (we were waited on by a man who I would guess is schizo-affective, or at least autistic).
The house, our B & B, was also busy. They had a plumber coming, a toilet being replaced, a furnace being cleaned, and a myriad of phone calls coming in: lively place! When our time came to leave, Mary piled us all into her car and drove us down the hill to the harbour, and we found our ship without too much trouble.




Interestingly, they do a cursory security check on entering the ship, and also take away your passport. We settled into our cabin, unpacked, and were immediately overcome with tiredness. But there were introductions to be made, and dinner to be had, and music after that. It was going to be difficult to keep up with it all!
I went to bed early and slept well with the ship rocking beneath me.
Today was our first official visit, as well as my birthday. So I spent my birthday, turning sixty-five, at Joe Batt's Arm, Tilting, and Fogo. And what a day it was. The ship had met with strong headwinds overnight, so was a few hours late getting in. We had an introductory set of speeches to the community of Fogo Island, which is an area of less than 300 km squared, with a population of about 2400 souls, made up of four or five communities. They met the cod moratorium by organizing a fishing cooperative; met declining school attendance by getting rid of denominational schools and having the first unified public board in the province; refused resettlement by setting up a regional government: in short, a pretty progressive place. And they now have something called the Shorefast Foundation, which is bringing social capitalism to the island in a way which sounds very impressive.




We visited three separate communities on the island, had a look at a cod stage, where they still salt cod. The fishery is seeming to slowly recover, but the price paid for cod is not worth it, they say. They get sixty cents per pound for fish that the stores sell for six dollars a pound. And the work is hard. That's why there are no young fishermen, just aging ones; and the number of flakes had dropped to very few.
It's hard to say what will replace the cod fishery as income, if anything. Right now, tourism seems to be helping. There is a thriving artist community on Fogo Island, and they have been able to capitalize on that. But who knows how long that will last.
The land is amazing, though. Rocks, of course, and few trees here, but lots of low growth and berries.




Some gardening is present. We saw some birds, and there are caribou on the island, as well as coyotes (no moose). There is a beauty in the bleakness that is hard to get on film, but you feel. And a permanence that permeates the landscape. Even the ground we walked on, along well-worn paths, would sink a bit, and then rebound after our step was lifted.
Then we stopped in Tilting for a "snack" which turned out to be chowder, several preparations of fish, vegetables, desserts—all done by the local community which was not likely much bigger in population than we were in number. And it was good.
A return to the ship, and a farewell from the town who came down to meet us. A very pleasant day overall.




But the day wasn't done. After dinner, there was a birthday cake for me in the dining room, complete with music and many invitations to dance. All very fine as well. Thanks to my wife for organizing this.




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Location:Between Fogo and L'Anse aux Meadows