Joyce's cod cheeks

Bonavista Peninsula, NL – A dull but much calmer day greeted us this mor-ning. For our last day on the penin-sula, we decided to have a look at a couple of movie sets. Trinity East was the location for a film with Gordon Pinsent called The Shipping News. It’s some time since we saw it, so the sleepy town on the cove wasn’t familiar, but it was picturesque just the same.

Salt box houses clustered by the shore and grassy yards were casually dressed in daisies, buttercups and purple lupines, against a backdrop of dark green hills sloping down to the water. Like nearly every town we’ve seen, it had a small white church and a graveyard with weathered, tilting headstones. There was even a clothesline filled with bright-coloured laundry drying in the breeze, and fishing boats bobbing next to the dock.

The second film set was where the mini-series Random Passage was filmed, an 18-km drive in from Highway 230, along winding roads with plenty of curves, potholes and blind hills. After covering some distance, we began to wonder if we’d missed a sign (we’ve learned that signage is not a strong Newfoundland trait), so we turned down a road where there were some houses.

I noticed a group of people on a wharf who seemed to be cleaning a fresh catch of fish, so we stopped and went over to see – and get directions at the same time. “We’re from Ontario and we’ve never seen a cod right out of the water,” I said. They were more than pleased to show us – and they had caught some big ones!

Glen and Jerry were busily filleting the fish on a table next to the water, while other family members watched. Once they dropped the fillets into a bucket, they tossed the heads and guts into the water where a strong current washed them back out to sea and the waiting otters and eagles that were awaiting a free lunch.

On the table were some triangle-shaped bits they told us were cod tongues. We’d sampled some at the Viking dinner theatre in St Anthony. I asked about cod cheeks, just as Joyce arrived – she confessed to us that she never liked fish even though she grew up here, but the one thing she would eat was the cheeks. She stepped up to the table and went to work on the cod’s severed head, jamming her fingers into its eyes to hold it still and slicing away the flesh on both sides in the hollows just below them.

Before we left, Gerry pulled several fillets out of the bucket and put them in a plastic bag for us to take with us. We were delighted to be able to bring them back to the RV for a fresh feed – and Joyce told us just how to do it: dredged in flour with just a bit of salt and pepper, and fried in oil – “but not for too long!”

With our lovely gift and clear travel directions, we headed on to the movie set. After enjoying lunch in the tea room where the tickets were sold, we went on to the site. Although it was built in 2000, the cluster of log houses looked weathered and old, and only a grassy footpath led from one house to another. We bought a DVD of the mini-series, since we haven’t seen it, so now we’ll recognize the setting of this tale of Irish immigrants coming to a new found land.

Our next destination was back in Trinity, where the Rising Tide Theatre group was putting on a pageant about the town’s and Newfoundland’s history. It’s a unique presentation that brings the audience on foot from one venue in the town to another, telling tales of the fishery, the church, the court and everyday activities with a cast of quick-change actors who are pirates, washerwomen, choristers and historic characters. There was lots of humor and pathos, and it was fun to recognize the actors we’d seen at the play a couple of nights before.
Back at the RV, Val donned his apron and tackled our beautiful mess of fresh cod, dishing up a delicious smelling feast, as fresh as it possibly could be. Thank you, Glen and Jerry!

Chills and thrills

Bonavista Peninsula, NL –It was so cold and windy today we needed sweater, scarf, parka and gloves. If we had them handy, toques would have helped too. As we drove out from the camp-ground, lashings of rain whipped at the car, and the pond near the exit was torn with whitecaps.

Undaunted, we continued northward, aiming for Cape Bonavista, at the extreme tip of this peninsula, where tradition claims Giovanni Caboto landed in 1497 in his ship, the Matthew. Ye Matthew Legacy is the name of the interpretation centre devoted to Caboto’s story. Visitors can follow the adventures of Jacomo, the ship’s barber-surgeon, as he journeys to England and meets our intrepid traveler, looking for the support of Henry VII for an exploratory voyage to find a western route to the Orient.

Sacks of cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, peppers and licorice root were on display – the sought-for spices from Cathay. So were navigators’ tools, such as an astrolabe, a special rope with lead weight to plumb the water’s depth and sample the sea floor at the same time, and a knotted rope which, used with a float and hour glass, could determine the ship’s speed – in knots, of course.

The final display was a full-sized replica of The Mat-thew that visitors could board and explore. The museum building had enormous back doors that could open and allow the ship to float in the harbour behind it, but it’s now kept indoors to keep it from deteriorating. In all, it was an excellent exhibit.

Fighting a fierce wind all the way, we headed for land’s end and the Cape Bonavista lighthouse. The gale ripped at our hair and clothes on the way to the lighthouse, but once we were inside it was quite cozy. The first two floors housed the keeper and his family, and then we climbed up into the light room itself. A revolving wheel of silver reflective dishes allowed lights to shine red or white in succession to beam out the signature flashes that would help sailors identify their location.

Outside once again, we battled the gale to snap a few pictures of the pounding surf and the tiny black spots in the sky that were puffins in flight! We could just make out the birds’ white bellies as they trotted about on the rocks, but they were too far off to see clearly.

Not far from the lighthouse was a statue of Giovanni Caboto (John Cabot) with a plaque in English, French and Italian explaining that this spot was a best guess at his landing point.

A little further around the coast – still broiling with frothy breakers crashing up against the rocks – we came to The Dungeon, a rock formation carved out into two arches by the sea over the centuries. We grinned at fellow tourists who struggled to keep standing on the way to the viewing platform. Brave souls!
Elliston, just south of Bonavista, was our next destination. “The root cellar capital of the world” has another attraction: a place to see puffins up close.  We found the place and, as we headed for the path, a man got out of his car to warn us about the danger when walking on the high cliffs in this wind. Val and I held hands tightly as we negotiated our way over grass, rocks and muddy bits out to the point of land, while blasts of wind continued to whirl around us.

There was the puffin colony, dotting the grassy top of a second cliff, sepa-rated from us by a deep chasm. It was too dangerous to get closer, so we were tantalized by their distance from us. I wanted to see their beady eyes! Just then, one small puffin landed on our side, just a few yards away! He was a darling little thing, strutting about, with his black feathers fluffed by the wind. He stayed for several minutes before leaping into the gale and flying away. We were spellbound and thrilled to have this special encounter.

Switcheroo

Bonavista Peninsula, NL – The steady drumming of rain on the RV roof drilled into our sleep overnight. When mor-ning came and Val swung his feet to the floor to get up, they landed in water! A small opening in the bedroom slide at the back of the RV was just big enough to let a trickle come in and seep across the carpet on his side of the bed. We placed the blame on Newfoundland’s renowned side-ways rain.

We were hitting the road today anyway, so I pulled in the slide and sopped up the water with our handy-dandy ShamWow, a great device for just such a purpose.

The rain continued to pelt down as we drove to the dumping station before leaving the camp. By the time we’d emptied the waste tanks, refilled the fresh water tank, and hitched up the car, we were almost soaked to the skin. Val was standing with the hose at the fresh water intake, dripping wet, when he grinned and said “this is one of those precious memories we’ll think of when our RV days are over!”

Our route today took us south, out of Terra Nova Park, and then eastward toward the Bonavista Peninsula. We had reservations at Lockston Path Provincial Park for three nights, but could only book a non-serviced site. However, our hope was that an electrical one might be available once we got there.

The “path” part of that park name referred, I think, to the 17 km gravel road that led in from Highway 230, which on this wet day spewed rain and mud at every pothole we passed. At least we only had to cover 5 km to the park entrance. When we pulled up at the registration office, the gents at the wicket were most kind, scrolling through the computer information to find us a free site with electricity, even for one or two of the three nights we’d be here.

We were pleased when they offered us one night at a serviced space, with the possibility of another that would become vacant tomorrow. So instead of our reserved Site 29, we happily went to Site 53.

We didn’t spend a lot of time setting up because we wanted to get in to Trinity as soon as possible. Our friends Len and Wendy had recommended a play at the Rising Tide Theatre there called “No Man’s Land” and the only show we could get to was tonight’s, so we wanted to be sure to get tickets.

Trinity is just 20 minutes from the campground, and it’s a small seaside town that has been resurrected from crumbling ruins into a vibrant history lesson, with restored buildings turned into mini-museums, such as a blacksmith shop, cooperage, general store and others.

By the time we got there, the rain had let up, so we could get out and walk in relative comfort. We landed the tickets right away, to our delight, and then went off in search of lunch. We spent the early afternoon ex-ploring some of the buildings and enjoying the old world charm of picket fences and bright clumps of wild-flowers.

As we drove back to the park and headed in to our campsite, two of the park staff were heading out in their truck. When they got closer they signalled for us to stop. Apparently a camper had given up on the weather, so his serviced site was now available for the entire length of our stay. We turned around to re-register our location and then moved from Site 53 to Site 38! Good thing we hadn’t settled in too much at our first stop! We were very pleased with their kindness, and with our new location. There’s a lot to be said for electricity, and for thoughtful Newfoundlanders.

A happy adventure

Terra Nova National Park, NL – Bob is an old friend of our friend Carl, and he lives in Gander but has a trailer at Eastport, which is near here. Bob invited us to drop in when we were in the park, so we gave him a call this morning and arranged to meet him at lunchtime.

Before we did that, we drove further into the park to see Ochre Hill, a walking trail that promised an excellent view from the lookout at the top. When we reached the end of the road and parked the car, we could see an observation tower that clearly would provide a commanding view. The daunting part was the hundred or so steps to get to the top – if indeed the public was allowed to do so; we didn’t hike over to find out.

Instead, we took the path to the side that started out with some gentle steps before depositing us on the rocky pathway upward. That was when we spotted a pair of bright red Adirondack chairs, set on a promontory, just asking for us to take a front row seat. Having read some of the park literature, I knew these were part of a project throughout Newfoundland (and national parks across Canada) where people are invited to take pictures of themselves with the chairs and send them in. We happily snapped ourselves with the automatic setting on the camera, and then had a seat.

It was delightful to be still and gaze out on a panorama of trees, meadows, lakes, mountains and sky, with no other sound besides the whispering breeze through the ever-greens and the lone piping tune of a woodland bird. As we sat, the cloud cover thinned, allowing beams of sunlight to play over the scene below. I don’t know how long we sat there, with the entire place to ourselves, but it was a magical visit.

With our lunchtime rendez-vous approaching, we headed north and out of the park, turning eastward toward the villages of Sandringham, Eastport, Sandy Cove and Happy Adventure. Bob welcomed us into his trailer for a chat, and then the three of us headed for the Happy Adventure Inn to taste its renowned fish and chips.

The hotel’s dining room windows provided a lovely view of the harbour below, where fishing boats were heading out to catch more of the fresh cod we were about to enjoy. The recreational cod fishing season has just opened, and for a limited time, so lots of people were out getting their allotted numbers while the getting was good.

Well-stuffed with our delicious feed, we headed out for a tour of the area with Bob as our guide. He’s been staying out here for years with his late wife Betty, so he knew all the twists and turns. We saw the beautiful beach at Sandy Cove, a soft arc of seaside dunes where kiddies build sand castles and older ones jump in the waves when the weather is hot – which it wasn’t today. We also saw the Eastport beach – and its more aggressive surf. Bob says the two venues usually have opposite swimming con-ditions, so if one is too rough, everyone goes to the other.

It was a pleasure seeing this little corner of Newfoundland with one of its own. We could certainly see why so many people come here every summer.

A big man with a small name

Terra Nova National Park, NL – Need to cool down? C’mon over to New-foundland! An ice cream shop in St John’s says this is their worst summer for business in twenty odd years, accor-ding to the local news. At least we aren’t getting rained on, though people are saying there’s a great need for it here. I must say it has sometimes occurred to me that, if something did fall out of all those grey clouds, it could be snow.

We’re settled in a lovely campsite at Terra Nova Park, after a fairly short travel day on the TransCanada Highway. We had a leisurely start to the day, arriving in the small town of Gambo just before lunchtime. On the TCH before the turnoff, we stopped at Joey’s Lookout, a viewing station that gave a marvellous vista of Fresh-water Bay, an inlet of Bonavista Bay. Then we drove in to the Smallwood Interpretation Centre.

The sign on the door, to our dismay, said “Closed daily from 12:00 to 1:00 pm”, and it was five minutes before noon! Still, we went inside, and the two young women inside said it would be no problem; we could go ahead and visit. When I signed the guest book and saw we were the first visitors of the day, their decision made sense.

The bilingual display panels described, in great detail, the life and times of Joseph R. Smallwood, first premier of Newfoundland, who was born in Gambo on Christmas Eve in 1900. He was the first of 13 children born to David Smallwood, an entrepreneur from PEI who built the first sawmill here, and when it burned down, the second one – this time powered by steam.

As we worked our way through the panels about Joey, we learned of a man who had enormous determination and drive, starting out as a newspaper reporter, branching into radio, traveling to Great Britain and New York to learn more about how Newfoundland could fit into the world of the ‘30s and ‘40s. At one point, he walked 700 miles from Port-aux-Basques to St John’s along the new railway bed, meeting rail workers all along the way and discussing the important changes he felt Newfoundland needed.

Joey Smallwood wanted to see an end to self-serving, corrupt practices that kept the people of Newfoundland from fulfilling their potential. He had a vision for his homeland that he shared tirelessly with anyone who would listen, and he overcame setbacks and defeats along the way. It was inspiring to see how devoted he was to making a better life for Newfoundlanders, and in making many of the hard decisions he had to make as premier – such as the resettlement of 30,000 people from isolated fishing villages to larger centres – he made enemies as well as friends.

We had a look at the statue of Joey Small-wood in the park across from the centre after we ate our lunch in the RV, and then headed out to Terra Nova Park.

The visitor centre of the park had some great displays of marine life, including a touch table – a shallow box filled with water and loaded with dozens of sea stars and crabs that people were invited to touch or pick up. There were also tanks with other sea creatures, and staff members had lots of little kids crowded around them as they presented their nature talks.

We have a full day here at Terra Nova tomorrow to explore some of its trails and sites of interest. We are hoping, as we are every day, for good weather.

Memorials and memories

Gander, NL – Our day was a bit diffe-rent today, because we divided it between seeing sights and seeing people we knew. When you’ve been engaged in brief conversations with strangers day after day, connecting with folks you know is a very pleasant change, and so it was today.

The sightseeing portion of the day took us to Gander International Airport, which in its heyday was the largest airport in North America. We knew quite a bit already from our visit to the Aviation Museum yesterday, but it was good to see the actual location.

At the reception desk, we chatted with Russ, an airport employee with a toothless smile behind a snow-white mustache and a shiny bald head, plus a twinkle in his eye. He directed us to the visitor viewing platform on the second floor, where we could see the international departure lounge down below and the impressive 72-foot mural that was unveiled by Queen Elizabeth II in 1959.

There had been talk about refurbishing the lounge, but there was enough resistance that the large hall has been allowed to remain the way it was in the 1950s, with floor tiles and furniture of that vintage. “Those seats have seen a lot of bums!” quipped Russ.

We ran into Russ again as we were leaving, and he strolled out to the car with us as he headed out for a smoke break. It turns out he was on duty on December 12, 1985 when the Avro Arrow plane bringing US military personnel back home from peacekeeping duties in Egypt crashed, moments after take-off, killing all 248 military personnel and eight crew members on board. He spent three days collecting human remains and helping to clear the crash site, and he said the memory of that tragedy still haunts him to this day.

A memorial called The Silent Witness is located at the crash scene that we drove to next, south of the air-port, where all 256 victims'names are recorded on a plaque, and the flag of the 101^st Airborne flutters in the breeze. Small American flags are planted all over the grounds, and a statue of a soldier holding the hand of a small boy and girl is on display. Each child has an olive branch in their hand, and they stand as symbols of a peaceful future.

Our evening’s entertainment was dinner at the home of Len and Wendy – Len was a troopmate of Val’s with whom we had reconnected last year at the troop reunion in Regina. They told us to get in touch when we got to Gander, where they live, so we did! It was great to see them again, and Val and Len had a great time trading tales of their early years. Wendy put on a lovely spread; a real treat after camp suppers and restaurant meals!

Crossroads of the world

Gander, NL – The wel-come sign to the town of Gander uses the above phrase as its subtitle, for the con-struction of the Gander airport was the reason the town came to be. Originally a swamp land, this region was chosen for its strategic location for planes to land from overseas when such travel was in its infancy, and for its wide expanse of flat land.

In the earliest days, air access was the only access to Gander, but it was nevertheless a bustling centre of activity, both during the construction phase and when the airport became fully operational. Refueling was a vital service here when planes were not able to go as far as they do now, so nearly every flight from overseas had to make a stop here before heading on to larger centres.

We visited the Gander Aviation Museum today after we arrived and got settled in our new location. It was a short drive, so we had all afternoon to explore. Since this attraction was right next door to the visitor centre where we made our first stop, it was an easy choice.

After reading panels at many museums on this trip as well as on others, I found it refreshing to absorb the information at this one through its breezy writing style, which combined facts and figures with touches of humour. For example, one panel about all the celebrities who had come through Gander was set up like a quiz game, asking “whose real name was Norma Jean?” for Marilyn Monroe or “who was the first human in space?” for Yuri Gagarin. There was also a photo of Fidel Castro trying out a toboggan outside the terminal as he encountered snow for the first time.

The military significance of Gander was particularly great, and the town still has a Canadian Forces Base. But the event that really put Gander on the map, at least in recent times, was September 11, 2001, when all US airports were closed following the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington. Suddenly the tarmacs became airplane parking lots as dozens of flights destined elsewhere were forced to land here.

Hundreds of bewil-dered passengers found themselves stranded, but the people of Gander immediately res-ponded with open arms – bringing food, inviting strangers home, opening chur-ches where people crowded in and slept on the pews, providing toiletries and clothing and every kind of comfort and assistance they could think of over the several days before the travelers could get on their way. A display of heartfelt letters from people who received this support – and from others who were simply grateful that such kindness still existed in the world – were on display at the museum. There was even a chunk of steel I-beam from the World Trade Center that was sent by the people of the United States as a token of thanks.

It’s clear that this event had a big impact on the people of Gander. In 2011 there was a 10^th anniversary comme-moration, and even today at the visitor centre there’s a notebook and pen set out for anyone who wishes to record their personal memory of that dark day in history – and lots of people have done so. The generosity and kindness triggered by 9-11 still reverberates in this small Newfoundland town.