Ben and Colleen

Deer Lake, NL – The RV is festooned with drying laundry this evening; one can never be sure of campground dryers! One dried a load till it was nearly cooked and the other had damp bits after the same cycle length. Oh well, we’re clean again anyway.

It was a long driving day today, from the topmost tip of the western side to the city nearest what one might call the mid-point of the island – 418 km in all. We got a nice smooth portion of new pavement for part of the trip, but for the rest, there were a lot of dips, bumps and potholes to watch for.

As we made our way back down the same highway we drove up on, it was interesting to see the stark ruggedness of the land in the north give way to gentler, greener terrain as we re-entered Gros Morne National Park. Gone were the roadside garden plots and wood piles so prevalent between the fishing villages along the shore of the strait and the northern Gulf. Instead, we were treated with the magnificent views of mountains and lakes we’d passed before, only afresh, from the southbound point of view.

We had to slow down at one point because a Sprinter cargo van was pulled over with flashers going at a narrow section of highway, so as we passed I opened my window and asked the driver if they were OK. He nodded, so we continued on our way.

On a seaside turnout, beautifully trimmed with purple wildflowers, we stopped briefly for lunch and a stretch of the legs. Then we were off again, keeping an eye out for the Arches Provincial Park that we had passed by on the way up.

As I scouted out the route in to the Arches parking area, Val was engaged in conversation by the same driver of the truck we’d seen earlier. He noticed our RV was a Mercedes Sprinter, and he wondered if we had our vehicle manual with us. A warning icon had appeared on his dashboard and he didn’t have his manual to see what it meant. He was relieved to learn it wasn’t anything serious.

The driver’s name was Ben, and he and his wife Colleen were from Niagara Falls. He opened the back of the van to reveal an amazing refit job: inside were compartments made of presswood to hold tools, and a platform at the back end was made into a bed. The walls were decorated with a large zebra print, and various bins and containers clung to the walls with bungee cords to hold them up. He said he’d bought the truck second hand and made his own motorhome out of it! Only cost him $23,000! It even had a tiny toilet, fridge and microwave, with plastic drawers for cutlery and other kitchen items. It was wonderful to see his ingenuity and enthusiasm.

After a look at the huge arches of stone, carved by glaciers in the distant past, and the white twis-ted ghosts of trees on the hillside lead-ing to them, we resumed our southward route to Deer Lake and the Gateway to the North RV park which will be our hub for explorations over the next couple of days.

Tails of the sea

St Anthony, NL – Although today was the least scheduled of our three here in St Anthony, I’d venture to say it was one we will long remember – in a good way!

With no elaborate plans, we allowed ourselves a leisurely start. Our on-board weather station told us it was six degrees outside, so we made sure to bring our warm jackets with us when we set out a little while later. I don’t think it made it into the double digits today but at least it wasn’t terribly windy.

We wanted to have a look at the gift shop and museum that was across from the Lighthouse Seafood restaurant we’d eaten at yesterday. Inside the shop, we browsed a bit, looking at Christmas decorations of Santas riding on whales, and T-shirts (one had a picture of a Newfoundland motorcycle: a cow with saddle and handlebars, wearing socks – a “cow-a-sockie”!!), coffee mugs and Labradorite jewelry. Near the entrance was a pair of saloon-type swinging doors with a sign that said “free museum”.

On the other side of the doors was a small room lined with pictures, native animals, old typewriters and telephones, and large panels explaining everything about the flora, fauna, history and customs of Newfoundland. We read about the Newfoundland flag and anthem, about icebergs, whales, local berries, mummers, the influence on the town of US military installations in the 1960s, established to monitor Soviet air manoeuvers, about the struggles of the fishery and the heart-rending resettlement years when small villages ceased to be.

No admission fee was required to visit this home-made museum, lovingly assembled by Monty, the shop owner, over the space of a year when the shop first opened. He managed to acquire and mount a display that included a polar bear, black bear, foxes and seabirds in addition to the photos and artifacts that were offered up by townspeople. We gladly slipped some money into the tin by the door where we signed the guest book.

By this time we were ready to revisit the Lighthouse restaurant and enjoy another steaming bowl of delicious seafood chowder before taking a drive all the way around the St Anthony harbour.

Our next stop was a half-hour drive away, north toward the L’Anse aux Meadows historic site and then westward to a stretch of coastline facing Labrador across the Strait of Belle Isle. We were not entirely sure of our destination. Last night as we waited to go in to the Viking feast, we spoke with a fellow Ontarian who said she’d been up that way to have one last look at Labrador before heading south again. They had stopped to look at the strait and observed an amazing display of whales circling and feeding in the strait. We were hoping to see the same thing, so as Val drove along, I kept my eye on the water to our right.

Suddenly I spotted the billowing spout of one, two, three whales all in one spot. We pulled over and stepped out. We must have stood, spellbound, for ten minutes in the stiff wind, watching one whale after another surfacing to breathe, then diving with tail up. They were circling round and round in two places – it was hard to count them but there must have been more than 10 of them – churning the water. When we got too cold, we took to the car and moved to a higher vantage point where we sat for another half-hour. Several times we saw a whale leap out of the water and crash back with a huge splash, or lunge out and fall back sideways. It was thrilling to watch these animals in their habitat, from an isolated stretch of road that few people seemed to know about. We will never forget it.

The land where Vikings came

St Anthony, NL – If we have too many days like this one, we’ll have to take a vacation from our vacation.  With three major adventures between 9 am and 10 pm, it’s been packed!

First on our agenda today was a boat trip to see whales and icebergs. It was sunny and clear as we got on board and set off out of St Anthony’s harbour toward the Atlantic Ocean. Once we were out of the shelter of the harbour, we knew how smart we’d been to take a seasick pill. The boat heaved up and down on great swells of frothy seas, but our stomachs were rock solid!

It wasn’t long before we spotted the first billowy cloud of a surfacing whale, and moments later, its humped back, followed by its magnificent tail as the whale plunged underwater again. Steve, our guide, told us it was a humpback about 40 feet long, feeding on small fish near the rocky shore.

Many more whale sightings kept us riveted to the water’s surface. At one point there was a pair of whales within a couple hundred feet of our boat which we followed for several minutes. It was an awesome sight!

The boat then turned toward an iceberg caught in a small inlet. Steve said yesterday it had a tall spike, but this had dropped off and was among the bergy bits bobbing near the shore. We approached the berg for a closer look at its blue-green shadows just as the sun caught its upper portions and made them sparkle.

Steve dipped a net into the water and scooped up a chunk of iceberg for us to touch and taste. He chipped off bits of it to sample – so we had a taste of 10,000-year-old water as it melted in our mouths!

On our return journey, we watched some gannets, with six-foot wing spans, soaring above the waves and then dive-bombing the water like Kamakasi pilots to catch fish. They pierced the water like spears with their sharp beaks and their wings tucked tight against their bodies.

It was a terrific tour with lots of information about sea life as well as local lore. One thing that amazed me was that in winter, polar bears sometimes hitch a ride on an ice floe and end up in town. Last winter there were about a dozen that did this, and then swam out to sea, sometimes paddling for miles, working their way back to their polar homes over pack ice and open water.

After a comforting lunch of seafood chowder and pan-fried cod at the Lighthouse Café, we drove out to L’Anse aux Meadows, the UNESCO heritage site of the Viking landing. We were surprised to learn that this was discovered only 50-odd years ago by a pair of Norwegian researchers who were looking for evidence of Vikings in the new world. Local residents always thought the remains of sod houses had belonged to Indian bands, but the discovery of a few small items – a pin for holding a cape, a spindle and an ancient iron nail – confirmed the Norse presence 1000 years ago.

Reconstructed sod buildings, and costumed interpreters sitting by crackling fires, brought the past alive for visitors. A reproduction of a second Norse settlement that we visited outside the historic site included an enormous wooden boat, the Snorri, that actually sailed from Greenland to Newfoundland a couple of years back to commemorate the anniversary of the landing.

In keeping with the Viking theme, we headed back into St Anthony for a Viking feast in a sod building, complete with helmeted warriors and wenches who served the tables. The entertainment included a mock Viking court, with us as councillors who voted on punishments by pounding on the tables with our fists. We left with full stomachs and certificates stating we were now honorary Vikings! Fun!

Doctor on a dogsled

St Anthony, NL – Mother Nature smiled on us again today, holding off her watery blessings until our day was over, and then gently washing off our dusty car.

We are now near the northern tip of Newfoundland, just seven kilometers outside of St Anthony, in a large RV park with lots of other campers. It wasn’t a long drive today from St Barbe, but it was a pleasant one along the coastal road, with the blue-grey outline of the Labrador coast visible across the Strait of Belle Isle from us.

A string of small coves and villages dot this road with quaint names such as Deadmans Cove, Nameless Cove, and Flowers Cove. Dozens of woodpiles stand along the highway, with logs neatly stacked in rows when they’re cut, or standing like teepees when they’re not.

Also along the road we passed small garden plots, enclosed within low wooden fences, far from any private property. “Why clear your land when a road crew has already turned the topsoil on a sheltered, inland plot?” asks a tourist brochure, describing these odd sights.

After lunch, we headed into St Anthony with the car to book a boat tour that would take us out to see the icebergs up close, but the office was closed when we arrived. That gave us a bit of time to kill before it opened again, and we just happened to be next to the Grenfell Historic Properties, so we stopped in.

Standing by the main door of the building is a statue of Dr Wilfred Grenfell, dressed in a fur-trimmed anorak and carrying his black bag. Around here, he is a great hero who brought medical aid, humanitarian assistance, education and economic improvements to people in Labrador who suffered from abject poverty, malnutrition and disease in the early 1900s.

I didn’t know anything about Dr Grenfell, but the museum dedicated to his legacy certainly opened my eyes. Born and educated in England, he studied medicine but was not a stellar student. His spirit of adventure was sparked by time spent with British deep sea fishermen who were looking for medical support.

When he heard about the great need for medical services in Labrador, his spirit of adventure was piqued.  He was also inspired to a life of service by a preacher. He decided to do what Jesus would have done if he were a doctor, and this mission suited him well.

In addition to the museum about his life, the Historic Properties included Dr Grenfell’s home. It was fascinating to learn about his enthusiasm and devotion for the people of Labrador, and the hardships he endured while traveling through ice and snow to reach them. He also wrote dozens of books and worked tirelessly to raise funds for schools and hospitals here.

For dinner this evening, we drove to St Lunaire-Griquet where a restaurant called The Daily Catch was offering fresh lobster – with the lobster season nearing its close, we couldn’t pass up the chance for a good feed. It was delicious.

Whale: check. Iceberg: check!



St Barbe, NL – It was a hurried start to the day, because we had to re-port for our ferry ride to Labrador one hour prior to departure, which meant 7 am. Luckily, our RV parking lot is just across the street from the ticket office, so it could have been worse! With ticket in hand, we drove down to the dock for our one-hour wait to load.

 

In the course of our one-and-a-half-hour crossing of the Strait of Belle Isle, we managed to spot a humpback whale, with its spout of spray, and then, when we approached the opposite shore, there was our first iceberg! I thought it might be the only one because there were no others in sight at that point, but along our drive we saw at least half a dozen more of varying sizes. They were a brilliant white, with beautiful turquoise shadows closer to the water.

Between our arrival time at Blanc Sablon, Quebec at 9:30 and our departure deadline of 3:30 pm, we took the Labrador Coast Drive to a National Historic site at Red Bay, about 70 km away. We stopped at the visitor centre shortly after landing and spoke with Hilary about the route. She gave us a very useful mile-by-mile guide of the little towns we would pass through so we could make the most of our time.

 

We thought it would be best to shoot for the final stop first and work our way back, so we only made a couple of short stops when the view compelled us. You don’t see icebergs every day, and there were some spectacular rivers as well. The road was pretty rough in places;  some of the potholes we dodged were the size and depth of a stockpot!

The terrain was hilly and covered with scrub bushes along much of the way, and there were some lovely vistas of tree-clad mountains, some of which had patches of snow on them still. The soil had a red tinge to it that probably explained the name of Red Bay. Clusters of cars and trucks beside the road indicated where the good fishing spots were on some of the rivers.

The Parks Canada site at Red Bay was devoted to telling the story of Basque fishermen who came here in the 1500s and 1600s, and made this spot the whale oil capital of the world at the time. A sunken whaling ship was found in the Red Bay harbour, and was reassembled in the museum. Next to it was the jawbone of a Right Whale that measured some 12 feet long! Other artifacts included pottery, whale oil barrels and tools.

In the community building on our way out (after a hurried lunch at the Whaler Station restaurant) we examined parts of a 400-year-old whale’s remains, artfully reassembled within a custom-made framework. This animal was also found locally, and the display included a lot of information about the nature of whales.

Back along the winding, lumpy road we sped, hoping to catch a glimpse of the lighthouse at L’Anse Amour before getting back to the ferry. It’s the tallest lighthouse in Atlantic Canada at 109 feet, and was built in 1850. To our dismay, we found ourselves in L’Anse au Clair and realized we’d passed the turnoff, even though we were looking for the sign. My unproven theory is they only post signs for out-going traffic, not for those returning.  We probably would have been late for the ferry if we had stopped, so I guess it was for the best.

Land of ancient peoples

St Barbe, NL – We are on the doorstep of Labrador this evening, a few mi-nutes’ walk from the dock where a ferry cros-ses the Strait of Belle Isle several times a day. We’ll be on that ferry in the morning.

The first leg of our drive today as we bid farewell to beautiful Gros Morne National Park was familiar ground; we’d been up as far as Cow Head and back and to parts between several times over the last five days. Our route hugged the coast of the Gulf of St Lawrence, bringing us past picturesque small fishing villages. We passed a few spots that we plan to visit on the way back, because we will have to retrace our steps in a few days.

We did turn off Highway 430 just past Hawke’s Bay to see Port au Choix, where there’s a national historic site. On the way, we passed through Port Saunders. It has a large Marine Services building with a cluster of fishing boats next to it, in and out of the water. As we have seen in many of these small towns, the homes are modest but neat, and there’s a sense of community that has been forged over years of hard work and daunting challenges.

Even the trees along the shore speak of fierce winter gales, with trunks bent low by pre-vailing winds, and branches twisted and gnarled by years of salt spray. Splashes of wildflowers – bright yellow buttercups and pink and purple fireweed, and even frothy white dandelions gone to seed – nestle in ditches and on hillsides.

We were pleased to see the turn-off for the Parks Canada site had space for our RV-and-car package. Inside was a small museum devoted to the aboriginal populations of this region, dating back some 4000 years. Many of the artifacts on display were unearthed at archeological digs in the area. Back in the 1960s a local resident was digging a foundation to build a movie theatre and found an ancient burial site. It’s one of several sites around Port au Choix.

A short video explained the arrival of migrating tribes from four ancient cultures: Maritime Archaic Indian, Groswater Palaeo-Eskimo, Dorset Palaeo-Eskimo and Recent Indian. Each of these depended on the sea for their livelihood, with its whales, walruses, seals and fish. They also fashioned excellent tools from the rocks, and from animals’ bones. We saw some sharpened blades and harpoon heads that were beautifully made, as well as needles and some jewelry made from bears’ teeth.

We had a great chat with Kyle, a Parks Canada guide, who provided lots of answers to our questions with enthusiasm and quite a depth of knowledge.

It was close to three o’clock when we arrived at our destination. This is more of an RV parking lot than an RV park, but we will be able to leave the RV here in security when we make our day trip by car tomorrow. And for a change, we had a home-cooked dinner, including green vegetables!

A whale of a day

Rocky Harbour, NL –No distant rendez-vous pressured us into a hur-ried depar-ture this morning. Based on an internet search, I ventured out to church in Norris Bay, only to find the building abandoned and quiet. I found an unlocked side door, so I went inside and learned that today’s service was set for 7 pm.

I snapped a few pictures of this pretty seaside town and also stopped at the wharf to buy tickets for an afternoon cruise around Bonne Bay before returning to the RV. And, since cleanliness is next to godliness, I did two loads of wash at the KOA laundry room. After lunch we headed out to Norris Bay for our cruise.

When we got to dockside, we recognized the ticket taker – he was Wayne Parsons, one of the performers in the Anchors Aweigh show at the hotel the night before last! And his accordion-squeezing partner, Reg, was our captain for the cruise.

Throughout our two-hour plus cruise around Bonne Bay and into the mouth of the Gulf of St Lawrence, Wayne gave us an amusing but informative spiel about the sights and history around us. We were only a few hundred yards out when he spotted the first whale. Then there was another, and another (the same one?) – gliding to the surface for a breath, revealing a shiny black dorsal fin and dipping back into the deep. Wayne said they were minke whales, about 20 feet long, feasting on the small fish in the bay.

When it got chilly in the wind topside, Reg invited us into the captain’s inner sanctum (despite the “Crew Only” sign on the door) so we could see in warmer surroundings. He had a fish-finder set up so he could steer the vessel to where the whales were most likely to be – and it was working! We must have seen 15 whales or more.

Wayne told us that the depths of Bonne Bay had been well sounded by none other than Captain James Cook in the early 1700s, with precision and detail that serves navigators to this day. He also pointed out the Lobster Cove Head lighthouse in the distance, and said on a clear day it was even possible to see Labrador from the bay.

Reg brought us closer to the rocky shore on the return leg of the journey so we could see the geology at close range. Then he cut the engine and drifted when a magnificent bald eagle came into view, perched on a high rock. We watched for several minutes before he took to flight, spreading his wings wide. As a mature bird, he was easy to spot with his white head, but shortly afterward, Wayne pointed out another eagle with the mottled brown feathers of a younger bird. In all, I think we saw six or seven eagles, both young and old.

We were charmed as we drifted past Woody Point and several people on shore came out to wave at us. All the towns had trim little houses, some in bright colours of red and yellow, set on the hillsides. Behind them we could see the sweeping Tablelands, offering a rare glimpse at the unadorned earth’s crust – a geologist’s dream come true.

As if our trip hadn’t been thrilling enough by this time, it ended with Wayne and Reg and another crew member presenting a medley of sea-faring songs, ending (by edict from Parks Canada, Wayne joked) with a lively rendition of I’se the B’ye. At the end of that one, Reg had to abandon his accordion to race topside and dock the boat!

Another visit to Earle’s seaside res-taurant in Rocky Harbour seemed appropriate, where Val scarfed down a steaming bowl of moose stew and I sampled a Jigg’s Dinner, con-sisting of salt beef, cabbage, turnip, potato, carrot, beets and peas pudding. Hearty fare indeed.