All around the circle!

Dildo Run Provincial Park, NL – The alarm clock went off at 5:30 this mor-ning, be-cause we had to be at Farewell a half-hour before the ferry was to sail for Fogo Island. It was about a 45-minute drive and we didn’t want to be rushed at a time of day when moose tend to graze onto the highway.

A stiff wind was thrashing through the trees as we headed for the ferry, popping seasick pills along the way in anticipation of a rough crossing. The boat did heave and sway, but we were fine and the trip only took about an hour. On display in the seating area were some lovely panels of pieced fabric, depicting typical scenes of the island. They were made by local seniors as part of a project to tap into the rich experiences and knowledge of this age group, and to encourage them to form a kind of welcome party for the many tourists who visit every year.

Alice and Phyllis, at the visitor information centre, were two such welcoming seniors who told us all about the highlights of the island, where we could eat, and general chit-chat. I could have listened to their quaint expressions and lovely accents for hours.

The town of Fogo was our first destination, on the north shore of the island. I wanted to complete my photo trifecta of me standing in front of the signs for Fogo, Twillingate and Moreton’s Harbour, since I got the other two shots yesterday.

After a lei-surely drive around the harbour, we proceeded on to Joe Batt’s Arm. Besides see-ing the town, we had another plan: to try and find Val’s friend Harvey, who worked with him in Kingston over 40 years ago and who came from Joe Batt’s Arm. Alice at the visitor centre said she knew him and that he did summer on the island, so he might be there.

First we stopped for a comforting bowl of seafood chowder at Nicole’s, to ward off the very chilly weather. Today was supposed to be the day for the Great Fogo Island Punt Race, an annual event where competitors paddle “to there and back” on the open sea in wooden punts – but it was too cold and rough, so it was postponed. It still meant a pretty busy day for the staff at Nicole’s, but we were able to ask Pauline, who’s from JBA, if she knew Harvey. Indeed she did, and she gave us directions to his house.

The other JBA must-see was the Fogo Island Inn, an ultra-modern, high-luxury hotel built on the rocks, where guests may enjoy a room for $1,000 a night! A shuttle service drives you to the hotel from a satellite parking lot, and you can drop in for tea if you’d rather not break the bank. We perused the lobby, admired the quirky décor and took our leave.

Finally, we set off in search of Harvey’s house on the off chance he might actually be there. We knocked on the door and, when he opened it, chuckled inwardly at his puzzled expression, which shortly changed to amazement when he realized who we were! His wife Barb was also there, and welcomed us with great hugs. We only had a short time with them, but it was delightful to catch up after four decades. It was also great to see what Harvey and Barb had done to the house, which belonged to three generations before him, and was now lovingly refurbished with original wide-planked floors, hooked rugs and scenes of the sea on the walls.

Of light and laughter

Friday, July 17, 2015 [Posted a day late.]

 Dildo Run Provincial Park, NL – Today was the day to switch from our non-electrified campsite to one with power. While we waited for the occupants of our new site to leave, we took a short jaunt around the western portion of New World Island (NWI) where our camp-ground is located.

Anyone who knows the song “I’se the B’ye” will remember the chorus, “Fogo, Twillingate, Moreton’s Harbour, all around the circle”. I had looked for what I thought was Morton’s Harbour on the Newfoundland map without success – until I found an inset map that enlarged the area around Twillingate, and there it was – spelled Moreton’s!

That’s where we went this morning, driving along curving roads, up, down and around, and dodging potholes all the way, as vistas of little fishing towns came into view – including Moreton’s Harbour, a lovely village in a sheltered harbour that led out to Notre Dame Bay and on to the great Atlantic Ocean.
Back we came to Dildo Run as check-out time approached. Our new site was just a couple of spots down the road from the old one, so I strolled by to check on the occupants. They looked decidedly settled. We were all set to go with slides in and hatches battened down, so we made and ate our lunch to help pass the time. Finally we saw the folks pull out, and we made our move.

Setting up was quick, giving us the remainder of the day to see more of Twillingate, and to stop at the visitor centre to see what other attractions we might enjoy in the area. Armed with literature, and after a great old chat with the two ladies at the centre, we headed in to Twillingate and on to the Long Point Lighthouse at the end of the road.

A stiff, chilly wind whipped at our clothes and hair as we stepped out of the car. We were at quite a height of land, with rocky cliffs that dropped steeply to the water below and offered a view far out to sea. The red and white lighthouse was built in 1876 and has operated ever since then, although with fewer personnel today now that automation has taken over.

Our ticket entitled us to a guided tour of the lighthouse tower. Suzie, our guide, led us up the spiraling staircase until we found ourselves inside the glass windowed light chamber itself at the very top. There at the centre was the revolving light, and out the windows we could see for miles. Suzie pointed out the narrow catwalk outside where the keeper would have to crawl out and paint the exterior from time to time, with a strong grip on the handrail all around. It was a fascinating visit to a place I never thought I’d see.

We also enjoyed the exhibit inside the former keeper’s residence, describing the art of wooden boat building before the arrival of fibreglas. There were also panels about how to make a birch bark canoe, and explanations of the different types of boats – dories, shallops, schooners and more.

After a rest at the camp-ground, it was time to head back for the Twillingate/NWI dinner theatre show. We’d managed to reserve tickets at the visitor centre earlier in the day, and selected lobster and mussels from the menu choices. The meal was delicious, and we had two couples from Newfoundland at our table, so the conversation was very interesting.

The dinner show left us clapping, tapping our feet, singing along and laughing as the troupe of musicians and performers entertained us with Newfoundland songs and silly skits. Professional performers they were not, but they more than made up for it with the humour, enthusiasm and charm that leaves anyone who “comes from away” completely smitten.

On the Shoal Tickle Bridge

Dildo Run Provincial Park, NL – Tonight we will be dry camping – no water or electrical hookup! It was the only site we could re-serve, so we took what we could get. We did manage to switch for tomorrow and Saturday nights at a site just down the road that has electricity. And, we are allowed to run our generator, so we won’t have to freeze in the dark.

Freeze is a bit of an exaggeration; it was a beautifully warm and sunny day today, but as we approached the Atlantic Coast the temperature dropped perceptibly. We were glad of another nice day, anyway, as we left Grand Falls-Windsor and headed east on the TCH. After passing Bishop’s Falls, we turned north on Highway 340 in the direction of Twillingate.

A small museum drew us into the town of Lewisporte. Val said he really felt old when he recognized the wooden box telephone like his grandfather’s on the wall, and the wringer-washer like the one his mother used, and the same camera and typewriter he used in his youth.

The display also covered the First and Second World War years, including a part explaining that, when WWI broke out, local volunteers’ uniforms had to be sewn locally. Without khaki material, they made do with dark blue broadcloth to fashion their puttees, hence the name The Blue Puttees for the first 100 soldiers to come from this area. That’s now the name of the Marine Atlantic ferry we took here from North Sydney.

Our second stop was at Boyd’s Cove, where we drove in to the site of the Beothuk Interpretation Centre. In the 1980s an archeologist found a large flat clearing on the shore of the cove when he was searching for evidence of Beothuk habitations. As soon as he walked across the clearing, he knew he’d found remnants of a settlement, based on raised mounds of earth outlining two round teepees and an oval-shaped longhouse. Thousands of artifacts were unearthed at the site, from animal bones to arrowheads, plus iron tools refashioned from European objects that confirmed contact between the natives and the white man. The centre holds a wealth of information about this now-extinct society. One of the features of the centre is a Spirit Garden in memory of the lost tribe, where visitors are invited to craft tokens from natural materials and hang them in the trees.

Once we got settled at our campsite – pretty quickly when no hoses or power cords are required – we set off for Twillin-gate for a quick look. It’s special to us because our dear friend Carl lived here many years ago, and met his late wife Roslynn as she crossed the Shoal Tickle bridge. A painting of that very bridge hangs in Carl’s apartment, and when we rolled into town, I recognized it right away! We drove onto a dirt side road and I sneaked through a couple of back yards and past a garden patch, and scrambled over the rocks on the shore to get as close as I could get to the artist’s vantage point, and snapped a picture. It was a very special moment!

[P.S. Delighted to find a Wifi hot spot at this park!]

Incommunicado

Grand Falls, NL – Before we left on our trip, we invested in a MagicJack phone with voice over internet protocol (VOIP). We took it along with us because we knew our cellphone service wouldn’t work in Newfoundland. With this new tool, we’d be able to make free calls whenever we had Wifi – a service which is fairly widespread.

It has worked by and large up to now, although sometimes a crackly reception impedes meaningful conversation. That was the case this morning, when we tried to reserve a campsite for our next destination. I dialed several times, but could not hear all the digits of the toll-free reservation number (a number not recorded in the campground blurb). It crackled out every time.

No problem, we reasoned; there was a pay phone at the comfort station we could use. So, with a handful of quarters and loonies, we headed over to try it. The melodious voice at the other end of the telephone, activated by inserting the first quarter, instructed us to insert an additional $4.25 for one minute of service.  We had enough change for that expensive minute, but not if the conversation went beyond that, which was highly likely.

No problem, we reasoned; we had to get a few supplies anyway, so we’d go to the shopping mall and ask for our change in loonies and quarters. Then we’d find a payphone there. Maybe it would be cheaper. With jingling pockets, we located a payphone. The phone display said PHONE CARD ONLY.

No problem, we reasoned; the Wal-Mart store had pay phone cards we could buy and then we would run no risk of running out of coins. With a new phone card in hand (having read the TINY instructions on the back and determining that this card worked in Canada), we returned to the pay phone. After inserting the card, a melodious voice told us to remove the card and try again. Then it said to remove the card and try again with another card. After several attempts, the display then said THIS CARD IS NOT ACCEPTABLE.

We wanted to stop at the bank at another part of the mall, and when we got there we saw some more payphones which accepted change. At last! In went our quarter, and our $4.25 for one minute of service, so I could hear ALL the digits of the campground reservation number. That number, mercifully, was toll-free, so we were finally able to make our call and secure a site – no water or electricity, but a site nevertheless.

This simple transaction had eaten up our entire morning. Ain’t technology grand?

Our afternoon activity was more rewarding; we went to the Mary March Provincial Museum in town, where 5,000 years of Newfoundland history were laid out in text, pictures and artifact displays, covering native tribes, Vikings, French and British occupations and more recent history about fishing and logging. The museum was dedicated to one of the last of the Beothuks, a woman who died of tuberculosis one year after being captured by the British. They named her Mary March, but her Beothuk name was Demasduit.

The other rewarding part of the day was the weather – truly summery, with a high of 27 degrees! It was lovely to sit outside with our evening cup of tea, and enjoy the sound of laughing children and chirping birds. It was the perfect antidote to our earlier frustrations.

[Note to faithful readers: we may not have internet reception for the next three days. As soon as we can get online again, we’ll catch you up on our doings.]

The river's exploits

Grand Falls-Windsor, NL – Our map was refolded today to focus on central New-foundland, as we took to the Trans Canada Highway in just about every direction but west. The route on the map looks a bit like the letter M, beginning northward to skirt Sandy Lake, then southeast, then northeast and finally almost due south to reach Grand Falls-Windsor.

The lakes and trees we passed today were quite reminiscent of Ontario. Several times the road climbed to give us a wonderful panorama of mountains, covered in evergreens, and dozens of lakes, which for some reason are called ponds more often than not, no matter how big they are.

It was wonderfully sunny today and warmer than we’ve had it since leaving Ottawa. We are actually outside this evening on our lawn chairs, enjoying a lovely breeze. The Sanger Memorial RV Park here is right on the banks of the Exploits River, and beautifully laid out with trees and grassy areas.

It didn’t take us long to complete the 200 or so kilometers to our destination; in fact we got here by lunchtime, so after we had a bite to eat, we headed out to do some exploring.  The river defines the southern edge of town, and the TCH divides it into a northern and southern section. The homes look generally well-kept, and there are lots of parks and community facilities. A large paper mill stands, abandoned, by the river, telling of earlier reasons for the town’s existence.

Val earned himself some serious brownie points by waiting patiently while I sat in a local hairdresser’s chair for a much-needed haircut. The number of points climbed as he waited once again for me to pop into a grocery store for a few supplies.

Then we were off to see the Salmonid Interpreta-tion Centre, not far from the RV park, where we learned why so many vehicles were parked by the roadside on our way into town: it’s a salmon-fishing mecca!  The Exploits River was a natural spawning ground for salmon, but the activity was confined to the waters below the falls (which gave the town its name) because the rocks were too high for the salmon to climb.

Local townsfolk established the Environment Resource Management Association, or ERMA, to rehabilitate the river by attending to waste management, and clearing away abandoned beaver dams and old logging debris to improve the river’s flow. They also constructed a fish ladder and bypass to help the salmon reach the river above the falls, and established a fish hatchery. In 1978 there were about 1,200 salmon in the lower portion of the river; with their efforts, today the count is upwards of 30,000 fish!

The interpretation centre allowed us to view the fish traveling through the ladder through a Plexiglas wall, and we saw a video that explained the ERMA project from start to finish. We also learned that, unlike Pacific salmon that die shortly after returning to their birthplace to spawn, Atlantic salmon are able to spawn two or three times in their lives. Sounded fishy to me.

Rock bottom

Deer Lake, NL – The sun made an appearance today, much to our de-light after yesterday’s deluge. It hid behind great banks of cloud as the morning progressed, but finally decided to shine forth in earnest after lunch.

Today’s destination from our Deer Lake base point was the southern portion of Gros Morne Park that we hadn’t explored earlier. The road in to the Tablelands area was only a half-hour drive up from here and just inside the park entrance, and it took us past Bonne Bay Little Pond – really a substantially sized lake – and along the South Arm of Bonne Bay before climbing into the mountains.

We stopped in at the Discovery Centre first, where there were displays about the rocks, plants, animals and topography of the park as well as a 20-minute film about the park. It was only after the lights went out and the film started that we realized we’d seen it already when we were at Rocky Harbour, but it was good enough to watch again.

On we went toward the Tablelands proper, and the highway made a kind of dividing line between the sweeping, tan-coloured slopes on the left, devoid of vegetation, and the green densely forested mountains on our right. The barren rocks are actually the earth’s mantle, pushed upward half a billion years ago by the movement of tectonic plates, and so full of iron and magnesium that plant life can’t take hold. “See the Earth Naked” says the brochure blurb, and so it seems, except at the lower levels where a few grasses, stumped evergreens and wildflowers have managed to grow.

Our first look at this landscape was less than ideal because of a low cloud cover that curled mysteriously around the heights, so we continued on to the end of the road where a small fishing town, Trout River, beckoned with the promise of an excellent seafood restaurant. We were not disappointed, me with my scallops on a bed of greens, scattered with partridge berries, and Val with a freshly caught lobster.

A small museum in a wooden building by the shore held displays of fishing gear and mementos of the early times, such as school scribblers, faded photos and needlework. Young Kendrick, our host, explained how the now-illegal cod traps worked, allowing fishermen to haul entire boatloads of cod from the sea in one fell swoop. There were cod-drying racks on display as well. Kendrick told us about the morning last year when a huge blue whale washed up on the beach – an event so unusual that they printed up t-shirts and ball caps about it to sell at the restaurant gift shop.

By the time we were heading back toward the Tablelands, the sky had cleared and we had a much better view of the magnificent panorama before us. We pulled over at the trailhead and took the shorter of two trails to have a closer look at the rocky terrain. More ambitious hikers took to the higher path, a two-hour trek to the top, for what promised to be a breath-taking view.

On the way out, we took a gentle drive through Woody Point, on the banks of the South Arm of Bonne Bay. We’d seen it from the water when we took the boat tour from Norris Point on the other side a few days ago. It was just as charming from the land side, with neat little houses and gardens, a white-steepled church, and fishing boats bobbing by the dock.

Planes, trains and butterflies

Deer Lake, NL – If I were living in certain parts of Saskatche-wan, I’d be thrilled to have wea-ther like we had today. It probably would have stopped a forest fire in its tracks! On other days we’ve had a sprinkle or two, but I’d venture to say today is the wettest we’ve had yet. Too bad we can’t export it.

Before heading to Corner Brook for a look-see, which was our plan for the day, we stopped by the visitor centre here in Deer Lake for information about this area and places we plan to see later in our trip. Stephanie, at the counter, was pleased to show us highlights of her home town of Corner Brook and give us other useful material.

When we mentioned an interest in the French islands of St Pierre and Miquelon, the couple standing next to us told us that’s where they’re from, and proceeded to tell us all about restaurants, hotels and special features of the islands. Joelle kindly noted these in our newly acquired guide book, and added her and her partner Jean-Jacques’ contact information. The conversation quickly switched to French, and we learned that Jean-Jacques is a sixth-generation citizen of the islands and a philatelist by trade. It was a delightful and unexpected exchange!

Corner Brook is about 50 km southwest of Deer Lake along the TransCanada Highway, and a beautiful drive, not only for the grand scenery of mountains and the Humber River, but also for its welcome lack of potholes. The chief source of employment used to be the pulp and paper mill that still operates next to the river. A local resident told Val that it used to employ some 3,000 people in its hey-day; now there are 150 employees. The mill has a huge yard with more piles of logs than I’ve ever seen in one place.

The railroad history of Newfoundland is showcased in Corner Brook, with the last train on display and open to the public. Until 1969, this narrow-gauge railway served most of the southern portion of the island, and the not-so-swift pace earned it the name Newfie Bullet! The small museum had photos of long-serving railroad men, including Patrick Dwyer, who started out in 1922 at age 13 as a telegraph operator (yes, thirteen!) and held nearly every post in the hierarchy before retiring more than 40 years later. It was fun to tour the sleeping car, dining car, caboose and engine outside the building. Our guide told us the snow sometimes reached the top windows of the cow-catcher car in winter!

Next, we drove to the top of the town, where a lovely national historic site dedicated to Captain James Cook overlooks the whole area from great rocky heights. We were the only visitors on this rainy afternoon, but we learned a lot about Cook’s time in Newfoundland, where he first learned about the plane table used to map coastlines. His cartography and navigation skills were honed here and led to his appointment as Britain’s lead man in the exploration and mapping of the Pacific South Seas.

The best rainy-day destination, the Insec-tarium across from our RV park, brought our day’s explo-rations to a close. Housed in a reclaimed barn, this fascinating display of insects and butterflies drew large crowds today. We saw live but-terflies emerging from their chrysalises, and flitting about in their special habitat. I hope the scorpions, six-inch beetles and furry tarantulas in the static displays don’t emerge in my dreams tonight!