Category: Family

Fogo Island

Posted on by Pete Schloss

July 26, 2022.

We camped three nights, July 23 and departing the 26th, in Dildo Run Provincial Park. Yes, that is the name of the park, God’s honest truth.

Most of our stays in Newfoundland have been 2 nights in duration. This has allowed us the opportunity to sample much of this huge island (16th largest in the world), but has not allowed me to explore or hike in the manner that is my habit. We have tried to strike a balance. It has been like a smorgasbord, only of sights rather than food.

The three nights at Dildo Run have given us two full days to take in this archipelago and relax before we engage the long slog back to our ferry connection from Port aux Basques to Nova Scotia. These days included enough experiences to justify at least 2 posts. The natural division is our day on Fogo Island and then our day at Twillingate.

Fogo Island is (don’t be shocked) an island, which means catching one of the intra-province ferries. Information that we had on hand indicated an 8:30 a.m. departure. Being an early riser I had us on the road with more than enough time for the 40 minute drive to the dock and at least a half hour to spare. However, when we arrived at the dock we were the only car at the check-in booth… because everyone else had already boarded! Our timetable was out of date and our 8 a.m. arrival meant that we were the last vehicle loaded for the 8 a.m. sailing. We made it onboard by pure dumb luck.

After a stop at the island’s visitor information office, and a download of the very well done Fogo Island Tour App (necessary because there is only spotty cell coverage here) we were ready to tour.

If you want a more in-depth view of what Fogo Island has to offer, download the Discover Fogo Island App, available in your App Store.

The remnant of an ancient volcano cone looms over the fishing village of Fogo.

A well laid path that at various places included stairs, boardwalks, and chain railings, climbs to the top of “Brimstone Head”, which the Flat Earth Society has designated as one of the 4 Corners of the World.

The views atop the sheer cliffs to the waters and town below were exceptional.

I was especially proud of Christine for climbing to the top, resisting her aversions to heights and precipices.

Looking out and down we were treated to an hour long viewing of whales doing what whales do. This included a mother and her very large calf surfacing and blowing in tandem.

After descending back to town we headed up another hill, this time by car to the place where Guglielmo Marconi installed one of his first operational wireless telegraph stations. This one was purposed to connect Newfoundland to the mainland. For a few years he was prevented from transmitting across the Atlantic from Newfoundland because of an exclusive contract the government had previously entered into in favor of the two undersea trans-Atlantic cable operators. When word was published that Marconi had bridged the Atlantic by wireless in 1901, their stock plummeted. One company tried to deal with the blow of Marconi’s success taking the “fake news” approach. The other company threatened suit. The specter of litigation won out.

Unfortunately, the Marconi Interpretation Center was closed for lunch so I satisfied myself by taking in a view of the town of Fogo such as Marconi would have enjoyed.

There are many interpretive sites on the island. They provide insight into life there in the 19th and early 20th Centuries. These tourist focused features are creatures of necessity. The economy collapsed in the 1990’s due to overfishing. The government imposed the infamous “Cod Fishing Moratorium” and subsequently regulated fishing in an effort to restore and preserve the industry. Fishing has never since achieved the status it once held in the 19th and early 20th Centuries. Tourism now seeks to fill the vacuum.

Given the limits of time, we chose to visit two dwellings representative of opposite ends of the economic spectrum.

The first was Bleak House. Our tour was conducted by Rebecca, a young and enthusiastic local resident.

Built in 1826, this is one of the oldest remaining merchant homes in the province. Compared to the homes common to a fishing family it was deemed a mansion. By mainland standards it would have been quite average.

The original merchant owner was the status conscious Slade Family. They had servants who provided typical household services and child care for the family. A somewhat onerous task was the daily filling a water reservoir in the attic and the emptying the toilet located on the second floor. The bathroom thus mimicked indoor plumbing. which no home on the island actually had.

In contrast was the Harald Dwyer home. It was representative of the scores of similarly constructed dwellings built in the 19th and early 20th Centuries by families making their living through fishing.

Only the exterior walls were load bearing. The interior walls were made of single layer tongue and groove boards. This made the walls easy to reconfigure and also maximized interior space, which was at a premium.

Four bedrooms were up steep stairs on a second floor. The rooms were barely large enough for a bed and small dresser. A person six feet tall would have to be mindful of their head throughout the home. Remarkably, families with a dozen or more children made their homes in these structures.

Behind the shoreside homes were rough-made docks and fish houses. Here the tools of the trade including boats, nets, a splitting table, and salt, were stored. The day’s catch was cleaned on the splitting table and the fish were dried and salt preserved in the shed. The floor consisted of thin and loosely laid boards. The gaps between the boards allowed air to naturally channel upward and facilitate the preservation process.

Our stay on the island also included a light and relaxing lunch. We had arrived onshore at 8:45 a.m. and there were only 4 return ferries. The last of these was scheduled for 7:30 p.m.. We intended to catch the 4:30 p.m. sailing. This time we arrived dockside early based upon accurate information.

Tomorrow, Twillingate.

Peace Everyone. Pete

Serendipity

Posted on by Pete Schloss

July 20, 2022.

I have a fondness for using a metaphor that captures the vision of humanity as a vast tapestry. Billions of threads interwoven to create the fabric. Most threads never join, but some are a complex braid of threads within the tapestry, such as my relationship with Christine, my children, and grandchildren.

In 2017 Christine and I were well into our 12 week Alaskan/Canada camping trip. On June 7th we were camped on Sitka Island. We met a charming couple, Ron and Lene Meck who were from Salt Lake City, Utah. We hit it off immediately, shared dinner, hikes, and our “stories“. Our paths parted with no expectation of any future meeting.

In 2018 Christine and I had arrived in Madrid Spain, on our way to Lisbon and Porto Portugal to hike the Portuguese route of the Camino de Santiago. I was blogging our journey on my website with links also posted to Facebook. I received a text message from Ron Meck, “Are you guys really in Madrid? So are we!!!” They had seen one of my posts. We arranged to meet each other that evening. We shared dinner, an evening stroll through the streets of Madrid, and more companionship. We promised to keep in touch.

2019 came and I was on a 3 week solo camping trip that would take me near Salt Lake City. I reached out to Ron and Lena. They graciously welcomed me into their home. At my departure I urged, ”We must actually PLAN to get together!”

Of course, COVID imposed its own “plans” which prevented any on our part.

This last spring I shared online our intention to travel to Canada’s Newfoundland and Labrador Province. Again this was picked up by the Meck’s, and damn if I didn’t receive another message from Ron, “We will be there this summer as well!”

They had their itinerary and we had ours. We spoke and marveled at the coincidence, but the Province is huge (larger than California) and no plans were made to get together.

A few nights ago I sent a message to them asking how their trip was progressing. I had seen on Facebook that they had suffered some mechanical problems with their RV. Ron and Lena replied that they were in St. John’s Newfoundland and would be leaving there on the 20th. “Ron, we are ARRIVING in St. John’s on the 20th!” Incredibly, we would be traveling the same highway, at the same time, but in opposite directions.

On July 20th, 2022, at 12:30 p.m., 114 miles northeast of St. John’s Newfoundland, four threads of the human tapestry again intersected, embraced, broke bread, and celebrated life. Who knows what tomorrow may bring.

Peace Everyone, Pete.

Where Eagles Dare

Posted on by Pete Schloss

July 18, 2022.

Don’t look for Richard Burton or Clint Eastwood within this post, that’s the 1970’s movie and this is still Canada’s Gros Morne National Park.

But continuing with the theme expressed in my last reflection, today was large, huge, at times bigger than my camera’s ability to accommodate, and yes it was ‘Great’ consistent with both meanings of that word.

Today was Western Brook Pond, located within Gros Morne Park and the Long Range Mountains, the northernmost extreme of the Appalachian Mountains. Western Brook Pond is the name, but it is hardly a “pond”.

Measuring 10 miles long, and six tenths of a mile wide, this freshwater fjord is surrounded by 2,000 foot cliffs, scores of waterfalls, and other things wonderful to the eye.

Within it we were small, almost insignificant things suspended 600 feet above the “pond’s” bottom, cruising on the pristine waters it holds.

Pristine is an accurate description for the water. I could even call it “distilled” without taking too much license with the word.

When ecologists sought to evaluate the purity of the water they used an instrument that measures mineral content by the water’s ability to conduct electricity. The instrument did’t give a reading. At first it was thought that the device was defective, but other tests revealed that there was virtually no mineral content. The waters were non-conductive, just like distilled water.

There was also virtually no organic matter, highly unusual for a body of water this size. That explained the scarcity of aquatic life. But why no dissolved minerals and little organic matter? The answer is that the watershed of Western Brook Pond is almost entirely comprised of igneous rock with only a thin layer of soil. Igneous rock resists erosion. The pond is “ultraoligotrophic”.

It is fed by Stag Brook at its eastern terminus, and scores of cliffside waterfalls, the highest of these being Pissing Mare Falls which at 1,150 above the waters it feeds is one of the highest waterfalls in eastern North America.

At one time this was a true salt water fjord that was carved through the action of glaciers that grew and then receded with each successive Ice Age. At one time it was located at sea level, but with the melting of the last glaciers the land rebounded and Western Brook Pond is now about 90 feet above sea level.

Technically, fjords are salt water bodies. In every other feature, save for its fresh water, Western Brook Pond is a fjord whose fresh waters take 15 years to be fully exchanged by the waters that feed it.

There are three vessels that serve to transport tourists on the waters, West Brook I, II, and unsurprisingly III. We were passengers on West Brook II, which was flown in by helicopter in 4 parts and assembled on shore. West Brook I was pulled in on huge sleds in winter, and III’s parts were delivered by sled and helicopter. These boats and their crews have been specially certified to operate without disturbing the unique ecology.

I learned of Western Brook Pond 5 days earlier in a conversation with Oscar, a fellow camper. He urged that this was a “must do” experience. I made online reservations, but with some concern that the weather report predicted over a 90% probability of rain. A ranger told me to pay no heed to the weather report as in these parts they do well to be accurate for 48 hours.

She was right. The day broke sunny with wisps of clouds on a deep blue sky. An early morning haze clung to the ground. We arrived at the parking lot more than the recommended one hour before boarding, hoping to catch a bite at the shoreside cafe. It’s a pleasant 3km hike from the parking lot to the boat dock and cafe on a well groomed trail. Upon arrival at the cafe we learned that supplies had not yet arrived. Coffee and packaged brownies had to suffice.

The boat was fully booked for the 10 a.m. departure. Onboard there were backcountry campers who were deposited ashore at the eastern terminus of Western Brook Pond for their five day hike to, and assent of, Gros Morne Mountain.

There was also a young lady from Bangladesh who asked us to help her memorialize the experience by taking her picture holding the flags of Canada and her home country.

And then there was Ron and his daughter, Natasha.

I have found in our travels that there are people with whom I sense an almost immediate affinity. After just a few words the comfort is such that we begin exchanging our “stories”. Such was the case this day with Tena who staffs the gate at our campground, and Sheleigh our waitress at Java Jake’s restaurant where we lunched in Rocky Harbor. Ron and Natasha were special. They were the kind of people we hated to say goodbye to. We left them hoping that someday we would meet again.

Ron is 88, and at 32 Natasha is his youngest of 5 children. Her oldest sibling is 36 years her senior. Ron dedicated a life to the service of the United States, retiring as a colonel in the Army. During a stint at the base In Leavanworth Kansas he completed his Masters Degree through the University of Missouri at Kansas City, my law school Alma Mater. After retirement Ron took up teaching as a second career from which he has fully retired.

Natasha is a teacher whose summer breaks allow her to travel extensively. Ron quipped, “I did 2 tours of duty in Vietnam during the war, and now she has been in Hanoi as both a tourist and a teacher!”

As one might expect, Ron’s advanced years have taken some toll on his mobility. In this Natasha is his support. Their love and respect for each other is palpable. That and their shared passion for travel are the connections that allow them to bridge the gulf of their years as they cross countries and continents together.

At a late lunch Christine and I talked long in reflecting upon the mornings experiences. We could have focused on the rare vistas of Western Brook Pond, instead it was the rarer beauty of a father and daughter’s relationship.

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. During the cruise I asked the tour guide if the scenery ever became ordinary to her. With a wisp of sadness hinting in her smile she said yes. As I left the boat I extended to her a wish for fresh eyes.

To you I offer the same wish as you view the relationships you hold dear. Resist allowing them to become ordinary. Use fresh eyes.

Running Toward Life

Posted on by Pete Schloss

July 6, 2022.

We broke camp in the rain, we drove in the rain, we set up camp in the rain. Driving rain that all but defeated our windshield wipers. Fog at times so disorienting that it made me feel as if I was inside of a ping-pong ball. Over three hours of this on two lane roads and an hour after our arrival at camp my knuckles were still white. A damp relentless cold (thankfully!) made the mosquitos take cover, I care not where because it wasn’t around me.

Thinking about those little bastards I wondered how fast their wings must beat to make that infernal hum. The answer: 300 to 600 beats per SECOND! To put that into perspective, hummingbird wings clock at about 80 per second. Supposedly a mosquito can only fly about 1.5 miles per hour. They must set up a relay once they’ve set their sights on me.

Skies intermittently cleared of rain not long after we made camp at Blomidon Provincial Park located high on cliffs overlooking the Bay of Fundy.

However, temps continued to fall to just over 50 degrees. The winds picked up into the 30’s.

Blomidon PP is a pleasant surprise. Very basic campsites, but such a variety of settings. We are near the cliffside, somewhat sheltered by trees and scrub.

A short walk from us the campsites are in a broad open pasture.

There we spoke with Barb and Paul, campers from Vermont. We plan on sharing a campfire tomorrow provided that the winds subside.

On the way to Blomidon we stopped in the charming community of Kentville to do laundry. We plan on a longer visit when we again drive through on Friday as we head to Halifax.

Braving the elements this evening I pulled out the smaller of two Dutch Ovens to bake, or should I say over-bake, cornbread as a compliment to Christine’s split pea and ham soup.

We were able to enjoy both outside during a lull in the climatic action. Tomorrow is forecast to be pleasantly sunny with a high in the mid-60’s, mid-50’s at night.

In a moment of clarity at dinner “my muse” spoke to Christine. “I love what we are doing. It helps me to appreciate but not miss Kansas City. I love our life in Kansas City, yet while we are there I find gratitude for our life on the road. I look forward to our “next thing”, but not at the expense of embracing the moment.”

Earlier in the day at the laundromat I read an essay shared by a friend. The essay was written by a woman facing terminal brain cancer. In the “prime of her life” she was struggling to understand and accept her lot. During counseling she was presented with the question, “Are you running from death, or are you running toward life?” The question gives me pause, just as it did her.

Death is a destination we all will share. At 70 I see more and more acquaintances, friends, and relatives “exit”. Running from death is not only folly but the energy thus spent could be directed toward embracing the experience of life.

What is running toward life? One man’s answer:

“Sing like no one is listening, love like you’ve never been hurt, dance like no one is watching and live like it’s heaven on earth.” -Mark Twain

To this I will add: Don’t put off until tomorrow the things that you may find you are then unable to do.

Peace Everyone. Have Fun, Do Good, and for the sake of those who love you Be Safe. Pete

A Mystery, a Light, and The Fuller Brush Man

Posted on by Pete Schloss

July 5, 2022.

It’s a little after 5 a.m. which is my typical waking hour. Here the sky begins to grow light about 4:30 a.m.. This works well for us as it gives me a few hours time to write before Christine wakes. However, it’s tough to not disturb her with the random noises I can’t avoid within the tiny space of our trailer.

I received a “dangerous heat” warning for Kansas City on my weather app. Here in Nova Scotia we won’t see 80 degrees for at least the next 10 days. Overnight it got down to 52. I’ll happily take this summer climate, mosquitoes and all.

We arrived yesterday afternoon at Thomas Raddall Provincial Park, located about 100 miles up the Atlantic Coast from Yarmouth.

It is remote, but there is a small seaside community not far away that we may visit later today.

The campsites offer a combination of open sky and shade, a picnic table, and a fire ring.

There is central water, however in the campground it is subject to a contamination “boil order”. Fortunately the water tap at the park office is potable. There is a central bathhouse that serves the 82 campsites. A nice network of trails are promising for the day, some leading to the seashore.

We left Yarmouth yesterday, but not before stopping in town to walk near the downtown and see some of its “painted ladies”. The streets abound with 19th Century mansions, many beautifully restored. Here are images of just a few.

A second reason for returning to town before continuing on our journey was the Yarmouth County Museum.

Opened in 1935, contemporaneously with the founding of the Yarmouth Historical Society, it houses a well curated collection of nautical art (the 3rd largest in Canada), Victorian period furniture and costumes, and a wide array of interesting artifacts. What originally drew me to visit were signs at Cape Forschu indicating that the mysterious Runic Stone and 19th Century lighthouse Fresnel lens were kept there.

We were greeted by Nadine Gates, the museum’s Director and Curator. She explained the 12,000 square foot layout of the museum which has been housed since 1969 in the former Tabernacle Congregational Church, an 1892 granite church listed on the Canadian Register of Historic Places. Nadine encouraged us to also visit the Fuller Mansion located next door and managed by the Historical Society.

We are glad we did, but more on that in a moment. Admission to both was only $5.00 and worth every penny!

The Museum was beautifully presented.

Here are just a few images, but more can be seen on its website:

The Yarmouth County Museum

Victorian costumes and furnishings:

The mysterious Runic Stone:

The huge second order Fresnel Lens, as seen from the side and looking up through it.

This French invention had the ability to concentrate and thus magnify the light of a single kerosene flame into a beam of over 600,000 candlepower visible for over 20 miles. This pristine relic had been used in the 1840 Forchu Point lighthouse until that structure was replaced in the 1960’s.

There was a transportation exhibit that included a horse drawn hearse, a locally manufactured stagecoach, and a 1921 Automatic Electric Car, manufactured in Buffalo, New York. Ahead of its time, this small vehicle sat 2, had a range of 60 miles, and a top speed of nearly 20 mph. For more details on this fascinating little vehicle:

Yarmouth ‘s Electric Car

It would take nearly a century for “electrics” to finally catch on, yet another example, the Standard Electric manufactured between 1912 and 1915 in Jackson Michigan, sat 4, had a top speed of over 20 mph, a range of 110 miles, and a guarantee that the battery was good for 20,000 miles!

From the Museum we were escorted next door to the Fuller Summer Mansion by delightful and capable Madeline.

This was the summer home of Alfred and Susan Primrose (“Prim”) Fuller. Alfred, a native of Nova Scotia, was the founder of the multi-million dollar Fuller Brush Company.

The home, originally built in 1892, was donated to the Historical Society by Prim Fuller in 1997. It has been beautifully restored and houses period furnishings, many originally owned by the Fullers.

It did not take long for my age to show to the youthful Madeline. I noticed a small picture of the Fullers in company with the actor James Cagney. “That’s Jimmy Cagney.” I remarked, to which Madeline responded, “Wow, you are the first person I know of who recognized him!”

Seeing many of the old appliances, furnishings, and crochet work I often remarked of fond recollections from my youth. I recounted a visit to my childhood home by the “Fuller Brush Man”, and the products that my mother bought. At one point I mentioned that my grandfather was born the same year as Alfred Fuller, 1885. With big eyes Madeline then added, “Wow. My GREAT-grandmother wasn’t born until 1931.”

Madeline was charming, and no doubt found me entertaining.

Then we came to the kitchen. On the counter sat a standard mid-20th Century dial telephone. In jest I asked Madeline if she had ever used one. “No”, came her reply. Still somewhat in jest I then asked if she knew HOW to use one. “No” came the nonchalant response. I was flummoxed! I have seen videos of young people befuddled by dial telephones, but until that moment I did not fully comprehend that a child of the 21st Century would no more know how to “dial” a telephone, than I would know how to perform many common tasks from the 19th Century.

Christine gave a quick lesson in “dialing”. As Chris lifted the receiver she remarked, “Hey! There’s a dial tone! It still works!!”

Madeline “dialing” a telephone for the first time in her life.

Our intention had been to spend an hour or so in town. Instead, we were not back on the road until nearly 1 p.m.. The Yarmouth County Museum and Fuller Home are among the finest community museums that we have encountered in our travels across North America. Moreover, we thoroughly enjoyed meeting more friendly Canadians.

It’s time to wake Christine. Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. The couple from Quebec in the next campsite just stopped by to say that a bear visited their site this morning.