November 22, 2022. In the South Atlantic, 6.15° S, 32.50° W.

Although Viking Jupiter can accommodate 930 passengers, we are slightly under capacity with about 890. There are a number of ship sponsored small groups, such as the Mah Jong group, Bridge Players, The Friends of Bill W, and the Solo Travelers group.

Christine saw the Solo Travelers one evening and it appeared that they numbed fewer than 20. Except for them virtually all of the other passengers are traveling as companions, and the vast majority of them “romantic”.

We are in continuous close proximity with all the passengers which has provided me with the opportunity to “couples watch”.

They come in all flavors. We find that demographically Christine and I are at the younger side of average, perhaps the longer side of years together, well placed for our experience as travelers, and probably at the more extreme end for “adventures” shared.

Most passengers are from the United States, but Canada is very well represented. It should come as no surprise that given the age of most onboard, Florida as a state of current residence is well represented.

This brings me to some other characteristics of the affection-bonded companions. There are a few interracial couples and quite a few same sex couples. If the demographics were younger I imagine the interracial proportion would be higher. Looking back 20 or 30 years ago I believe that the percentage of obvious same sex couples would have been much smaller as so many back then would have still been “closeted”. I am thankful for the enlightened social evolution that favors a broader acceptance of colorblind and gender-blind love. I hope that it continues to evolve in favor of broad acceptance.

Years ago my dear mother, may she rest in peace, might have scowled in disapproval at couples from both of these groups. As she entered her later years she became more tolerant. There is one group that may have yet received her unspoken ire.

Early in the cruise I observed a couple, clearly dear to each other, but separated by generation. Father and daughter?… niece?… No, husband and wife. Within my thoughts I could feel the specter of my mother’s disapproval. I turned my focus onto my own thoughts and feelings, asking myself “Why?”, not about them, but about myself.

Mindfulness is a wonderful skill to acquire. So many of us never stop to become aware of their thoughts and ask that question of themselves, “Why?”. In examining my thoughts and seeking an answer to the question I concluded that I and perhaps society still have work to do.

When Christine and I married we presumed that we had decades ahead of us together.

Fortunately, that has been the case. Life is a lottery and comes with no guarantees. Most couples bond with the hope of sharing life and love. Sometimes it works out, and sometimes it does not. The ages of the lovers is not the most relevant factor of success.

Back to my mother: I am confident in my assessment of her righteous indignation. Yet she and I lived in the shadow of “uncommon companions” who were very dear to us.

My mother was a first generation American, born to Lebanese immigrants. Her parents’ marriage was arranged by the families. Grandfather fought as an American “Doughboy” in the First World War, returning to Lebanon after the war to meet and marry my grandmother.

That marriage occurred around 1920 or 1921. Their first of 6 children was born in 1923.

My grandparents prospered and became icons in their West Virginia community. They were leaders in commerce and as parishioners in their Catholic Church. All of their children were college educated, my mother receiving her Master’s Degree from the University of Wisconsin where she met my father shortly after the Second World War.

I can scarcely imagine a more successful and loving marriage than the one shared by my grandparents.

Their life together ended with grandfather’s death in 1958. Grandmother continued on as the family matriarch until her passing in 1979.

By the way, my grandfather, Joseph Francis, was born in 1884. My grandmother, Labibi Raad Francis, was born in 1905. I will leave it to you to do the math.

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. The above photo, taken around 1957, features my grandparents who are the couple on the right. The little boy on the far right would eventually grow up to be the author of these “Thoughts”.

July 31, 2022.

We arrived back in Nova Scotia early the morning of July 29th. The ferry deposited us and a shipload of passengers and vehicles on shore at 7:30 a.m.. Mira River Provincial Park was less than an hour away. We had our fingers crossed that the campsite we had reserved for that night would be unoccupied and we could prevail upon the park staff to let us set up early. Technically, check-in was not until 2 p.m. We hoped to catch up on the sleep that we had lost in the overnight passage.

Luck, or so we thought, was not with us. The campsite was still occupied and the campers had until 1 p.m. to vacate.

On the way to Mira River we had noticed a number of signs advertising Fortress Louisbourg, a Canada Parks Historic Site.

We had not intended to visit, but it was only 20 minutes down the road and we had previously purchased Parks Canada Annual Access Passes. What did we have to lose?

The year was 1713, and King Louis XIV, also known as the “Sun King“, was nearing the end of his reign. Louis XIV is the longest reigning monarch of a sovereign country in history, having held his throne for 72 years,110 days. England’s Queen Elizabeth II may yet eclipse that record.

The population of France was overwhelmingly Catholic.

Catholics were required to abstain from eating meat every Friday, every holy feast day, and throughout Lent. For over 1/3 of the year French people relied on fish as the approved substitute for meat in their diet. However, France’s offshore European fishery was in collapse due to overfishing.

Fishing stocks in the New World were already legendary, especially off the shores of what would later be named Nova Scotia, the Grand Banks, and what became Canada’s other Atlantic Provinces. As the result of the Treaty of Ultrecht, entered into that year with England, France was granted control over Ile-Royale (now Cape Bretton) and Ile-St. Jean (now Prince Edward Island). Louis turned his attention across the Atlantic and asked the question, could the fisheries of Cape Bretton provide a sufficient harvest, particularly of Codfish, to economical justify shipment to France? If so, what infrastructure and military presence would be required to secure the endeavor?

The answer to the first question was yes.

By 1731 New World French fishermen were exporting over 35 million pounds of Codfish and 1,600 barrels of cod-liver oil annually.

Over 400 local fishing vessels and 60-70 ocean going schooners were engaged in fishing the waters near and off-shore from Louisbourg.

The answer to the second question was to build Fortress Louisbourg. Note: A fort is military installation. A fortress is a fortified city.

The settlement was founded in 1713. Beginning around 1720 French engineers toiled for the next 20+ years to construct and expand Fortress Louisbourg and its harbor. At its zenith the town was enclosed by a wall 30 feet tall, 30 feet thick, and 2.5 miles long.

Additional security was provided by a broad surrounding ditch, ramparts, and fortifications with cannon that commanded the entrance to the deepwater harbor.

The original budget of 4 million French livres exploded under King Louis XV to 30 million. Fortress Louisbourg was named after Louis XIV, who died in 1715.

Within the walls over 2,000 people made their homes, with another 1,000 living outside the walls.

On any given day there were over 150 ships in the harbor, either unloading goods for Louisbourg or being loaded with preserved fish bound for France.

Properly dried and salted Cod have a shelf life of up to 2 years, and when soaked and reconstituted taste fresh caught, or so we were told.

A mercantile economy was imposed on the colony by Mother France. In other words, Louisbourg was not allowed to become self-sufficient. It could produce nothing for its own consumption, except fish.

Everything had to be exported to and imported from France. This ensured a stream of tax revenue for the Crown, and continued dependency upon France by the population.

What could possibly go wrong!?! Massive income to the King, a harbor with armed security second to none, a dependent population, one of the most extensive European fortification complexes in North America…

Plenty could go wrong, and did. Louisbourg was built on low ground. The high ground was located on the land-side of the fortress which provided an artillery advantage to attacking land based troops. Louisbourg also focused the majority of its defensive capacity on protecting the harbor. Finally, if put under siege it was too far from France or Quebec to count on timely reinforcements. In the eyes of England Louisbourg was a golden goose ripe to be plucked.

In 1745 British colonists captured the fortress after a lengthy siege. The fortress was restored to France in 1748 courtesy of the treaty ending the War of Austrian Succession. However, in 1758 it was again captured by British forces during the Seven Years War (aka The French and Indian War). This time the British resolved to permanently eliminate the threat of Fortress Louisbourg. British engineers systematically blew up the walls and many of the buildings within the walls.

Fast forward to the 20th Century. Interest was growing in the history of the derelict site which had been designated as a National Historic Site in 1920. The first building was reconstructed in 1930.

Beginning in 1960 the real efforts at reconstruction got underway. Using a remarkable trove of archive documents from France, archeological excavations (that continue to this day), and examples from other sites of that time, one-quarter of Louisbourg has been painstakingly and accurately reconstructed.

Today, Parks Canada operates the restored Fortress Louisbourg as a living museum.

It is staffed by scores of knowledgeable reenactors dressed in period garments.

Many are engaged in common activities of that time.

Such activities that we observed include baking (the bread is for sale to visitors), black smithing, lace making, animal husbandry, gardening (the vegetables are for consumption by the staff), music, and shop keeping.

There is even a tavern which we took advantage of.

For a price, one can fire a musket, and even a cannon. One can even apply to be a prisoner for the day.

The staff people often maintain the role of a particular historical person, answering questions “in character”.

We arrived at the Fortress at 9:45 a.m. and did not conclude our visit until 6 hours later. Our bad luck with the occupied campsite turned out to be our good fortune in visiting this amazing place, the largest historical reconstruction in North America.

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. At virtually every turn in our travels there have been people who immediately became dear to us. Such was the case at Fortress Louisbourg.

I approached a staff person who was in period attire and I addressed a question. Within minutes we were engaged in a far ranging conversation. A connection had been made.

Frith, working their fifth season at the park, fairly burst with enthusiasm for the job, and life. They had just completed extensive study and coursework in advanced carpentry. Frith was looking forward to their forthcoming position in the trade at the close of the Louisbourg tourist season.

We talked about family, life, travel, future goals (ours and theirs), and Star Trek. Star Trek reignited our conversation when as we were preparing to part I raised my hand in a split finger gesture and wished Frith, “Live Long and Prosper!” Frith fairly shouted, “You’re a Trekkie! So am I!!”

I truly wish for Frith a long, happy, and prosperous life.

Frith, you have the tools and attitude to, in the words of Captain Jean Luc Picard, “Make it so!”

July 30, 2022.

Our original plan had been to spend only the nights of July 23rd and 24th at Dildo Run Provincial Park. We would then drive nearly 300 miles for a 2 night stay on the west coast at Blow Me Down Provincial Park, followed by some back-tracking and another long drive for a one night stay at Barachois Provincial Park. The plan deserved reexamination.

Up to this point, with the exception of Pippy Park in St. John’s, every stay had been 2 nights long. Cancelling Blow Me Down would allow us to add a third day to Dildo Run, eliminate one of two long drives that lay ahead, and add a day to Barachois Pond, from where we would have a 100 mile drive to the ferry on July 28th. That made enough sense, and so it is what we did.

As my prior posts detailed, the longer stay at Dildo Run was fortuitous, allowing us the explorations of Fogo Island and Twillingate.

Barachois is not particularly near anything noteworthy, but on-line pictures promised a scenic and relaxing 2 night stay.

We knew the park was large with 150 unserviced sites. Upon arrival we were surprised to see that most sites were occupied by large pull-behind trailers and equally large 5th wheel campers. These were typically over 25 feet long. Furthermore, it was mid-week when we would expect more vacancies. That was not a problem since we had a reservation.

Our assigned spot was beautiful.

We were lakeside with a 50 foot walk to the shore. There was a beach, a well maintained bathhouse with laundry, and limited wifi available in the park. After making camp we took a walk through the park.

It was a ghost town. Virtually no one was home at the campsites! Further examination revealed that many of the sites had stocked in large quantities of wood, had large on-site generators, tented storage sheds, and the site next to us even had a propane tank that was large enough to serve a home. This was a park largely dedicated to season-long campers occupying their sites mostly on weekends.

When evening arrived, so did a few of these “residents”. The park became illuminated by multi-colored “party lights”, and music played (too) loudly from a number of sites. The residents of the campsite behind us remained absent, but their solar powered party-lights came on automatically at dusk.

So it was with many of the sites with absentee residents. This was not our style of camping. Hopes for a real dark-sky experience were dampened, but since we faced lakeside I was able to take an after-midnight time exposure sky shot that turned out reasonably well.

Sunset also brought stunning illumination to imposing Mount Erin across the lake from our camp.

During our earlier walk I had noticed a trailhead and signboard that detailed a 5+ mile hike up the mountain. I added that to my mental check-list of things to do tomorrow.

Our evening rounded out with a tasty Dutch Oven Pot Pie, a few adult beverages, and a campfire. All was good, in spite of the fairyland of party lights that surrounded us on three sides.

The next morning we decided to do some pre-ferry grocery shopping before my afternoon hike. The large community of Stephenville was about 20 miles away with a couple of large grocery stores, and at least one coffee shop that had wifi superior to the anemic signal in the park. I didn’t figure there would be any photo opportunities so to my regret I didn’t bring my camera.

Driving through town we were struck by the array of huge warehouses. It struck me that they looked like converted airplane hangers. Furthermore, many of the cross-streets bore US placenames: Minnesota Drive, Carolina Avenue, Oregon Drive, Dakota Drive… It was time to consult with Mr. Google.

This town of only 6,600 residents has huge runways and an international airport! Why? Because from 1941 to 1966 this was the home of Ernest Harmon United States Air Force Base. The US airbase featured two runways, one nearly a mile long and the second nearly 2 miles long! This is how the airfields look today:

Until 1949 this was the independent country known as The Dominion of Newfoundland, established in 1907and consisting of both Newfoundland and Labrador.

It gave up its self-governing status in 1934 because of a crisis in public finances brought about during The Great Depression, allowing the United Kingdom to temporarily administer it through an appointed Commission of Government. This continued until Newfoundland and Labrador officially joined Canada after a hotly contested referendum that included options to remain a dominion of Great Britain, join with Canada, or join with the United States. The final election did not include a US option. Canada Confederation won by a slim 52% majority, Newfoundland and Labrador becoming Canada’s 10th Province in 1949.

The US Air Force Base was maintained until 1966, and was one of the United States’ largest airbases located outside of the US. It had a deepwater port, and serviced the largest transport aircraft in the US arsenal, fighters, and nuclear armed aircraft. This is how the airfield appeared in the the 1940’s and 50’s…

And some images of what is left today, courtesy of the internet:

We returned to camp and I “girded my loins” to tackle Mount Erin. A little over 5 miles and a steep climb of 1,150 feet, brought the reward of an amazing panorama that my lens does not do justice to.

The view took in Bay St. George, the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and the Long Range Mountains which are the northernmost extension of the Appalachian Mountains.

I returned to camp two and a half hours later beat and in need of a beer revival. The hike stood as a caution to me. This trip has not provided me with the opportunities to hike and exercise as is my custom. Furthermore, we eat really well when we camp, too well by at least one measure.

On September 29th I leave Christine and fly out of Kansas City bound for Lisbon, Portugal. From there I will proceed to Porto Portugal and hike to Santiago de Compostela, Spain, continuing on to Muxia and Finisterra on the Atlantic coast, finally returning to Santiago. From there by transport as yet undecided I will meet Christine in Barcelona, Spain not later than November 6th. The portion of the journey I will pursue by foot will cover about 300 miles (500km).

In the past training for such and undertaking seemed prudent but not necessary. At 70 years old it has become both prudent AND necessary.

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. We boarded the ferry late the night of July 28th, landing in Nova Scotia 7 hours later. We left behind wonderful sights, experiences, and fast friendships. We hold all of these as precious memories to be treasured.

We also left behind the Province’s odd slang, unique cuisine, the thick Irish/Scottish accents, and weird half-hour time zone. It took some time to adjust to the hourly news feeds from NPR, CBC, and BBC broadcasting on the half-hour. The rest was easy.