Single Step

Everyone is talking about the weather. First comes the “how are you?” then “isn’t the weather lovely?” followed by, “ya best git out and enj’y it then”. We hear stories about the rainy, windy spring just past and the reason behind late blooming lilac and lupines; “It was just that cold!” It’s a greeting that’s growing on us. We wonder how you all are and what the weather is doing back home. Of course, we could check Environment Canada if we wanted to know the facts but we want nuance. And that’s something only you can give us.

As for highlights of the past couple of days, we attended the famous Trinity pageant where a troupe of 40 actors takes the audience through the outport of Trinity, bringing its history to life. The sun shone all day and warmed us throughout the three hour performance. After supper we took in a play, by the same theatre group, that spun a yarn about a young deaf girl and her single mother’s struggle to acquire an education for the child in Halifax. Every little bit of exposure to the unique history of this island causes us to wonder at the people who made habitation possible.

Breakfast found us a Cora’s today so we indulged in someone else’s cooking then headed off on a hike to Signal Hill. As we approached the trail, Gord remarked, “I’m surprised they can get away with this!” We looked like mountain goats but felt much less sure footed. The trail may appear to disappear but only its safety rails do. The handrails are exchanged for chain bolted into the rock face for the faint of heart to grasp. Heights have never bothered me until today consequently; we went home by another way.

There are plenty of National Historic Sites here in Newfoundland and we visited one of the most crucial, which also happens to be the most easterly point in Canada. Cape Spear juts out across St. John’s harbour on the opposite side of Signal Hill and has guided mariners for over 200 years. From the heights of the sheer cliffside we watched humpback whales spout and flip their tales at us far below.

Another blessed day!

Last time I gave you a little test to see how Newfie you were and have since learned that there is an official Newfie initiation. It involves a pub, a shot of rum, a crowd of locals, the repeating of an unpronounceable verse and the kissing of a cod fish. If you have had an experience that includes all these things, you know what it is to be “screeched” in. The custom is based on a 1940’s rite of passage for rookie seal hunters and it’s now popular with tourists. So, if you really want to be considered a Newfoundlander, that’s the deal.

Speaking of verse and thinking about the melodious, do you remember the old song, “This land is your land, this land is my land…”? Today we stood at the edge of Bonavista’s cliffs at the spot where John Cabot landed in 1497 and exclaimed, “Oh, happy site!” I stood on the very same site and sang, “from Bonavista to Vancouver Island. This land was made for you and me!”

And now for more Newfoundland trivia:

In 1904 four lowly moose were introduced into the wilds of Newfoundland and today there are more than 120,000. Happy times for the moose! They love the salty residue on the roadside greens left from the winter de-icing regimen so are a real hazard to driving especially at night. One bold female leapt out in front of us on the Trans-Canada Highway, flailing her gangly legs under her top-heavy torso. A moose is a rather unfortunate looking creature and reminds me of a giraffe without the neck or spots. On the bright side, the meat is delicious and adds to local fare. Thankfully, we cannot be accused of road kill, at least not on this day. Speaking of road kill, however, we are guilty of contributing to the demise of two birds and two squirrels. The little thumps under the wheels were quite distressing.

While on the subject of wildlife, this is also the place where caribou roam, the Newfoundland pony is protected and runs wild, coyotes keep a low profile to avoid the $25 bounty on their heads, and polar bears make an occasion appearance on the north shore.

On the economic side of things, a young woman told a couple of fellow travelers that she just bought a two storey house, almost new, for $8,000. We have heard it said that you can live the same quality of life for $50,000 in Newfoundland that you could for $150,000 in Alberta. The trouble is, you’ve got to live in Newfoundland; not a popular prospect with the up and coming crowd. As a matter of fact, the province has a terrible time keeping residents on the rock year ‘round.

Churches abound here. In a community of 250 you will typically see three or four churches: the grand ones are Roman Catholic, Anglican and Pentecostal, while the simpler one is Brethren. The older locals remark that churches are not as full as they once were and attribute that to the ease of contemporary life. The need for consolation and comfort is not felt as profoundly as it once was or solace is found elsewhere.

Remembering that Newfoundland did not come into confederation until 1949 helps me understand the common reference to the rest of Canada as Canada and in which Newfoundland is not a part. Does that sound confusing? We hear people referring to the continental part of Canada by that name but the reference does not include this rock. The corporate mind of Newfoundlanders carries a connection to a national past and the nation is not Canada but Newfoundland. It’s a subtle reference but consistent and rooted in relatively recent self-governance and independence. Who knows what would have happened if economic strife hadn’t cause the collapse of Newfoundland’s political institution in the 40’s.

That’s enough trivia for one day so as the sun sets on St. John’s and we snuggle in for the night we find ourselves once again marveling at this land we know as Canada.

We want to send our love and congratulations to parents Chris and Shannon and little baby Gabriella Sharon who arrived safely on Friday evening. We are so happy for you and look forward to cradling this precious little one in our arms upon our return!

I have been listening to James Taylor today for more than pure pleasure. In one of his songs he mentions a place called Twillingate Isle and I wish I could find it! The song that is. We found the place and we also saw these. Can you identify the items in these photos? Numbers 1-6 from top left to right.

Let’s see how well you know Newfoundland.

The first is baleen from a whale. Humpback whales filter krill by the tens of thousands through this hair-like mesh, and down the hatch they go.

The second is a homemade snowshoe. Snowshoes were absolutely necessary for both transportation and hunting and this pair of snowshoes is another indication of the ingenuity of Newfoundlanders. They made it or made do.

Third is a whale vertebra. Can you see the cylindrical part in the centre? That’s the spinal cord. Whaling first brought the Basque here in the 1500’s, then the cod fishermen from France, Spain, Portugal and later the land-hungry English.

Fourth are lobster traps. Once the cod industry dried up, lobster became big industry. Actually, in between there was mining. We were surprised to learn that many Newfies head to the oil sands in Alberta for the winter months. The economy still seems in flux here where 16% are unemployed.

Fifth is salted cod and, you guessed it, cod was salted for the purpose of preservation. This is how fishermen shipped it back to the homeland on the far side of the Atlantic.

Sixth is a Killick. When the Basque first arrived they had few supplies with them and needed to tap into what the island provided. A Killick is an anchor made from wood and stone and was used to prevent fish nets and small boats from drifting.

How many did you answer correctly?

If you scored 100%, you can wear the hat, use Newfie slang and have succeeded in the Newfie right of passage (at least in my imagination)! Congratulations!

There is a reason why Newfoundlanders face mockery and even contempt by their Canadian counterparts. I wonder if you have noticed that where the territory is unfamiliar we, “others”, tend to interpret then judge without enough information. It’s a common theme of our existence. I can relate to that behaviour, can you? I admit that it’s a sore point with me because I despise it in myself.

I think Newfoundlanders are a foreign and misunderstood bunch to most of us yet they seem to understand themselves well enough and have a good laugh at their own expense. I do not make a habit of laughing at people but when they ask you join in the fun, what’s a girl to do? Here is an example: I wondered if it was okay to use the term Newfie and then I heard them use it on themselves, and even on formal signage. The Newfies I have met don’t mind that we think they talk funny, rather, they showcase their creatively substitutional vocabulary and pronunciation to such an extent that a sizable dictionary of Newfoundland and Labrador English had to be written to aid in acculturating us non-Newfies. There is more to these folks than meets the ear and they love it.

The winters on the French Coast and northern most point of Newfoundland can reach -65 degrees and the strait between here and Labrador as well as the salt-water bays freeze solid. A serious and reliable source of heat is needed just to stay alive and most families arrange a $15 wood permit to cut 10-15 cords of wood in the spring, which are left by the roadside waiting for the first fall snow at the end of September so they can ski-doo their sleigh full of wood back home and stack it in their basements. Most have dual woodstoves that burn both oil and wood. In summer each family also maintains an inland plot of ground along the highway where they plant root veggies and cabbage. No one thinks of taking what is not their own; wood, vegetables or otherwise especially if the item has subsistence value. The system of honour here is not a nice idea but a life code.

Today we took in two note-worthy sites: L’Anse Aux Meadows and St. Anthony’s coastal waterways. The former is the site of the first European settlement on North American soil. You may remember Eric the Red or maybe Leif Ericcson? The Norse sagas described a land (Vinland) beyond Greenland where Vikings settled for 10 or more years, exploring the coast, plundering and pillaging, as the story goes. I first read about this settlement 15 or so years ago during a homeschool project. I never dreamed I might actually get to visit the site!

The latter site involved a boat, and that’s always a good in thing in my books. Temperatures dropped to -3 last night but the day was clear and the landscape colours vivid so we hopped aboard and headed out to sea from St. Anthony’s harbour. The skipper took us about 10 km east toward a neon blue and white 100 ft high object floating near an island that serves as a bird sanctuary. With the Titanic music playing in the background (I kid you not!) we approached the iceberg (these 3 photos are of the same berg from different angles) and ogled over it before swinging by a puffin colony, and heading back to shore. A Minke whale followed us in along the rocky beach as this Newfie day came to a perfect close. 

Although we haven’t hit “turn-around” yet we consider ourselves about halfway in terms of time on this trek across our amazing country. It’s hard to fathom the distance we have covered, which is in the 9000 km range, as well as what we have yet to cover on our way home.

I thought I would include you in the practical side of things just in case you are at all interested. Yes, real life follows us even on holiday.

I have said more than enough on the issue of bathrooms so will let that that topic alone. Yes, I hear your sigh of relief!

As for food, we eat most of our meals in the van and that usually involves me on the inside stove and Gord on the outside grill. In total that gives us four cook sources; 3 burners and 1 grill. Gord likes breakfast out and on occasion we indulge in a fine dining experience as an aspect of entertainment.

Most nights we sleep in our van at a campsite and pay somewhere around $30 a night but have paid as much as $52, which has been a bit of a surprise to me. Camping used to be cheap! The exception would be when we need nearby accommodation in a city, especially if we expect to arrive at there late at night or when we just need our own bathroom and a bit of room to stretch.

Fuel costs are high here on the rock at $1.10 a litre whereas Quebec’s fuel prices were in the vicinity of $.95 per litre so considering that this expense is a moving target, our costs on average are $233 per week. I thought that number would be higher, for some reason.

We stop every ten days or so to catch up on laundry. The best place to do that seems to be the Laundromat where we can get the whole thing done in 90 minutes.

Every time we enter a new province we stop in at the Tourist Information Office, which is easy to spot with its large white on blue question mark sign. There we pick up free maps, private camping guides, detailed information on tours, etc. as well as provincial park info. The staff at these places is usually well-informed, friendly, and helpful.

I should ask, do you have any questions we can attempt to answer?

If not, we will just keep on doing what we’re doing and we want to say again how much we appreciate your responses to our posts as they do create a sense of connection for us. Thank you and we wish you blessings on your own journey.

Oweshegettinonbys? (pronounced “How’s she gettin’ on bys? Means “how are you?”) Yesterday we were in buying tickets for our boat tour and I overheard two women talking. At first I wondered what language they were speaking and then it dawned on me that it was English. Lesson #1 Don’t assume I can understand a language just because it’s English.

I write this while swiveled around and sitting comfortably in Stella’s easy chair at our KOA in Rocky Harbour about half way up the west coast of Newfoundland. Our travels have taken us far and there are days, especially of late, that I cannot remember where I am!

Our first impressions of the island that people refer to as “the rock” are ones of surprise and delight. There are a lot of trees; slender and weather-beaten black spruce, papery-white birch, and red pine to name a few. Quite a number display little puffs of foliage on top as if they’ve been contoured by human hand. These ones I have dubbed “Dr. Seuss Trees”. Agriculture is virtually non-existent. There are plenty of rocks but also low growing shrubs, grasses, and flowers! Pink, purple, white, yellow; and they’re lovely along the roadside or amongst the long blowing grasses. And the wind? It goes on and on and on. The landscape evokes a sense drama, to be sure.

Surrounded by water and blessed with lakes, a visit to the province is certain to involve boats. We’ve been on two so far and plan for a couple more. Today we puttered around a lake which is surrounded by steep cliffs (http://www.canada-photos.com/western-brook-pond-photos.htm). The thinking is that it was an ocean fjord at one time but has since been cut off so now the water is fresh and very cold, containing few nutrients and supporting little life. Its fjord-ness reminded us both of our Skookum trips from Egmont to Malibu.

Our thoughts are never far from home but are especially close today as we remember our dads and wish them a very happy Father’s Day.

Tonight is Yahtzee night but I thought I would write just a bit to keep you updated on our travels first.

PEI has held us in its spell for a whole week and we were in no hurry to leave, however, Newfoundland calls and we have a date with the “Nfld” ferry on Friday so off we go. Wind gusts impeded overheight traffic on the Confederation Bridge yesterday and we weren’t sure if the ferry from PEI to Nova Scotia would even be running. Thankfully, it was and we arrived a little early so took a tour of the Wood Islands Lighthouse, which is settling into a new spot after soil erosion forced a move away from the cliff side.

Before I take you from PEI, I have one last story. On the Murray River/Montague side of the island, some call it the eastern shore, the pace is even slower and we found a lovely old home that doubles as a B&B and decided to treat ourselves. Richard Knox grew up in the house and now his wife, Janet, serves travelers who are looking for the quietude of country charm. The house was built for the nearby power station’s caretaker, who happened to be Richard’s father. When the power house went out of service the family bought the home, undertaking its restoration so as to make it more comfortable and grow a family there. We found not only rest for our bodies but also rest for our travel weary spirits as Janet saw to every detail with her gift of gracious hospitality.

The ferry from Wood Islands to New Glasgow takes about 75 minutes and is contracted to transport all sorts of cargo including these pretty pink pigs going off to market. My attempt at photographing one fat fellow who kept sticking his head out of the grating failed as he seemed terrified in every respect. Poor thing seemed to know his was a one way ticket and protested persistently.

Have you heard the Gaelic lilt of a Cape Breton Islander? The voice is similar, in my ears at least, to the PE Islander and every bit as charming. Celtic tradition is strong in these parts and the music seems to seep out of the stones. We found a place named the Red Shoe Pub and it’s owned and run by the Rankin sisters (quite famous, I’m told) where there’s a fresh catch every supper along with live homespun music. Last night halibut was on the menu with local asparagus, fingerling potatoes and a heaping helping of fiddle and keyboard on the side. Working off dinner meant a meander along the shores of Cape Hood’s silky sand beaches until the sun set on our sleepy heads.

Next morning, we left ourselves lots of time to take the Cabot Trail on Cape Breton Island before our 6 hour boat ride to Newfoundland tomorrow so spent most of the day driving the coast. Road signs are posted in both English and Gaelic and it’s not for the benefit of tourists. We stopped in at the Bear Paw Gift Shop in Inverness and the woman at the till welcomed a friend in Gaelic. Acadian culture is also strong here as folks fly the Acadian flag (blue, white and red with a single gold star) and often display a star beside the front door of homes and businesses. My plan is to share some personal findings on Acadian history before long.

Well, that’s all for now, I hope you fellas enjoy the rest of your day. (practicing my Maritime accent)

People hide their identity when they travel. Have you noticed that? Once in Italy we unknowingly ate dinner with a high ranking official in the US Military. We know this because a week later in Paris we saw him giving a press release on CNN for the Joint Chiefs. So you never really know who you’re going to meet on the road and I think that’s one of the lovely freedoms of travel.

I took these photos at the info booth on the PEI side of the Confederation Bridge mostly because my eye caught the BC plates. The pretty coloured cars caught my attention too and since I know next to nothing about cars – especially old ones, I really didn’t pay much more attention to these mechanical beauties. That is until; we kept seeing these three cars, everywhere, and always together. Last night they pulled into a motel near our campsite so I set out to get the low down on their story. Here it is:

John, Bonner and Winston are all from Blind Bay, BC, which is near Salmon Arm. They call themselves “Rodders” and are serious into modifying and restoring old vehicles. Apparently, you’re usually into one or the other – personal philosophy dictates – but these guys have experience across the board. John’s bright yellow ’55 Mercury pick-up, which is a modified farm truck, was featured in a hot rod magazine. He extended the cab and “dropped” in a Corvette engine, just for fun, and John negotiates the car’s value with ICBC in order to settle on an insurance price. It’s easy to see, even for a newbie like me, that there is no replacement dollar value on this vehicle.

Bonner bought his 1966 Mustang from a friend in Michigan and mostly restored (beautifully, I might add), somewhat modified it (disc brakes and larger 6 cylinder) so he could keep up with his two buddies on this trip (tongue-in-cheek!). Bonner worked in Toronto during the Black Stallion film in the 70’s organizing all the period cars. Vintage cars came from far and wide just to be in the film and were paid $100 for their stage presence, which was a lot of cash in those days and if they drove the car, they were paid an extra $25. Car owners often taught the actors how to drive, Bonner explained. Mickey Roonie, for example, had no idea what to do with a clutch. Oh, and Bonner’s other car? It’s a Packard.

Winston found his ’49 Ford in a field, modified it all by himself, including its striking Aqua finish. That sounds simple enough but it’s been a 14 year labour of love. Crossing Canada was always a dream, he told me, and now to do the trip in this car is just great. As for a highlight; a young reporter interviewed the trio for an article in the Superior Chronicle (superiorchronicle.com). Winston and his buddies met through their hobby about 10 years ago and continue to encourage young guys just coming up. They spoke an entire language that I found quite foreign but they assured me it was indeed English. The women who love them are serious hobbyists themselves in another genre (quilting!) and a deal was struck on this trip to attempt to accommodate everyone. They seem to be having a ball in the 6^th vacation week and we wish them Happy Hot Rodding and a safe journey!

A story that begins with, “We met this guy…” is bound to be worth the telling. Today Jane took us down an unpaved single-lane road between two farms and there we met a tractor with a large plowing implement coming our way. We backup up the lane until there was a place to pull off and the guy in the tractor jumped out, vaulted over, thrust a postcard in my hand and said to Gord, “Tell your girlfriend there she needs to look at this.” He leaned his head right in the van window, asked where we were staying the night and told us he could give us a real deal on place. That’s another line I’m a little leery of. Anyway, we thought, why not? We are now staying in an adorable little cottage with an ocean view, whirlpool tub, right in the heart of Green Gables land…all for a song.

Ron, the tractor man, asked us if we had religion (the second time I’ve been asked that) and told us that we’re going to be dead a long time so we should have fun now (Gord thought his philosophy might be missing the point). His wife, Heather, offered us to join them in a lobster dinner at the town hall: $15 for all you can eat.

To say these Islanders are friendly folk is understating the fact. Yesterday, we stopped in at a local fish market and the owner asked if we wanted to buy a lobster and eat it out the back. She would supply the butter for 50 cents. She assured us it would be a lot cheaper than a restaurant dinner and the guy who cooks them for her is 73, has been cooking lobster for 30 years and cooks the best lobster on the Island. We thought, why not? The 3 lbs of lobster we consumed there cost us $20 and it was the best lobster I have ever tasted!

And why not?