We returned today to Canada’s Gros Morne National Park, however we are now camped at the seashore. It was a non-eventful 5 hour drive. Once camp was made, Christine took a nap and I set off on a 6km coastal hike.
The winds were brisk, cool, and constant.
I was following the old mail trail that until 1958 was the sole land route connecting the coastal fishing villages along this part of Newfoundland’s great western peninsula. In winter the mail delivery was by dogsled.
This was also “Tuckamore”, the locals name for the stunted and besieged woods that eek out their existence near the shore.
These trees, unlucky to have sprouted and taken root here, face the relentless onslaught of a stiff prevailing western wind. Cool and damp in summer, and murderously bitter in winter.
It is a gnomish forest. The trees are gnarled, twisted, and arthritic, becoming Nature’s own bonsai creations.
They strive to survive as a pack. Limbs interlock as they have learned to keep their heads down. Any that reach for the sky are beaten back, or die. The tangle is such that even the dead are denied their rest, perpetually held upright by their brothers and sisters.
Trees at the edge of the wood are forced into a rictus, branches forged to offer the least resistance to the winds.
Yet, this is a place that draws people. It drew me.
It is not a grand experience, like a Viking village, or walking atop the Earth’s mantle. But it is an experience to be absorbed and appreciated in the same manner, mindfully, present, and with all of one’s senses attuned.
It is for us to render “great” the “small experiences” with our attention… experiences that are presented to us every day, just as the sun sets… every day.
Vikings… in America… before Columbus… PREPOSTEROUS! SACRILEGE! HERESY! UN-AMERICAN! EVERYONE knows that Columbus discovered America. “In 1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue…”
Not so long ago this was just another front in America’s “culture wars”. “Discovering America” of course conveniently ignores that America had already been “discovered” and inhabited for nearly 14,000 years. Setting that distinction aside it remained controversial to teach that among Europeans Columbus was not the first to step foot on American soil.
In the course of my Parochial grade school education there was scant mention of Lief Erickson, Norse exploration, Vinland, and the like. It was deemed a matter of speculation and legend, nothing more. Indeed, there is reason to believe that Basque sailers came to the shores of Newfoundland years before Columbus “discovered America”. It is an established fact that they fished and hunted these shores in the early 1500’s, but no proof (as yet) of a pre-Columbian presence.
With regard to the Norse, it has been conclusively proven that they established and maintained a settlement in northern Newfoundland as early as 990 CE. That settlement is now known as L’Anse aux Meadows, a Canadian National Historic site since 1975 and declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1978. We visited today under cloudy skies.
Within an area of approximately 30 square miles researchers have uncovered the remains of a settlement that had been inhabited for between 20 and 100 years by as many as 150 Norse people. Carbon dating, among other supporting scientific techniques, confirmed the period of inhabitation to extend well into the 11th Century.
At L’Anse aux Meadows one can clearly see the outlines of the foundations of buildings whose purposes included the smelting of iron, forging nails, boat repair, habitations, and a large meeting hall measuring 94 feet by 51 feet.
Over 800 Norse artifacts have been recovered, and most intriguing is that butternuts have been found on the site. These are not native to Newfoundland, the closest naturally occurring in New Brunswick. This strongly suggests other outward exploration by the Norse people.
At L’Anse aux Meadows, Parks Canada has accurately constructed buildings that mirror those that once were built by the Norse peoples.
On-site archeological evidence and information gleaned from excavations in Iceland ensured their authenticity. These buildings are constructed from thousands of peat bricks, birch bark, saplings, sod, iron nails, and rawhide lashings.
They are remarkably warm and comfortable.
A diorama gives understanding of how the site once appeared.
Gazing across the meadow gives one a feeling of the presence and experience of those early European inhabitants.
Park staff, wearing period garments, recreate and present the story of these people. They are also on hand to answer questions. Here, Christine listens to the telling of tales from the Icelandic Sagas.
A woodworker, using period tools that include a foot powered lathe, fashions a wood bowl.
There is a smelting hut for the production of bog iron…
and a smithy’s hut where iron is worked into usable items.
From L’Anse aux Meadows we continued a few miles down to where the road ends in a small fishing village.
There the residents had erected statues of the the explorer Lief Erickson, and next to it a smaller lifelike statue of a modern explorer.
By the way, we learned that the Norsemen are only called “Vikings” when they are marauding, pillaging, and plundering, which their women didn’t typically participate in.
The village had one small unassuming restaurant which we decided to visit.
“Do you have a reservation?”, asked the server. We thought she was kidding, but replied that we did not. She bid us to wait while she checked to see if we could be given a table.
Seriously? The place was empty, with only one other couple seated! We were given a table after experiencing our first surprise, the place was elegant!
The second surprise was the menu which was decidedly upscale.
We enjoyed drinks and ordered. Christine had a delicious tenderloin of beef, and I a lobster locally harvested earlier that afternoon. We had barely begun to eat when well dressed guests began to arrive and fill the restaurant to capacity.
It just goes to show that you can’t judge a book by its cover or a restaurant by its exterior. A third surprise, the non-seafood eating Christine was inspired to try a bit of my lobster.
Oh, a fourth surprise was that the bill, which with tip was north of CA $200. It was worth it.
Peace Everyone. Pete
July 16, 2022.
There were two things that we considered as justification for the 500 mile round trip drive up to the northwest extreme of Newfoundland, seeing the Norse settlement, and sitting in a cafe to watch icebergs. We accomplished the former yesterday, and sought to check-off the latter today in the town of St. Anthony.
I had expected St. Anthony to be somewhat of a tourist destination. It was not, just a larger version of the many fishing villages we have encountered.
At the (literal) end of the road there was a lighthouse, a pleasant little restaurant, some nice hiking, and incredible scenery.
The cliffs, greenery, and even the accents of the locals uncannily transport one to Ireland or Scotland.
This is the heart of “Iceberg Alley” where icebergs that have calved off of Greenland’s glaciers pass on their 2 year journey of melting doom south into warmer waters.
We are late in the iceberg season when only the largest remain, and they far offshore.
As a consolation I did see whales spouting and surfacing in the distance. If you look very closely on the left of this picture you can see a whale blowing. The boat on the right is a “whale watching” cruise, in hot pursuit.
Tomorrow we return to Gros Morne to camp and experience a different part of that National Park.
In retrospect, even without the icebergs these last two days have been rewarding… which reminds me that expectations are not only the seeds of disappointment, but in looking to fulfill an expectation one often is blinded to other rich experiences.
We have been camping the last 2 days in one of Canada’s premier National Parks, Gros Morne (“Lonely Mountain”).
At nearly 700 square miles this is the second largest of Canada’s Atlantic region National Parks.
It was first established as a National Reserve in 1973, achieving National Park status in 2005. It was designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1987, because “The park provides a rare example of the process of continental drift, where deep ocean crust and the rocks of the earth’s mantle lie exposed.”
This is one of very few places on Earth that its mantle, normally located deep under the Earth’s crust, is exposed. Rarer still, it is situated in a location accessible to people. We spent a part of yesterday “walking on the Earth’s mantle” on a park ranger led hike.
The geology of the mantle is stark and obvious.
On the right side of the road in this following picture are ordinary features, flora, and fauna. On the left, however is the mantle, dense heavy rock, laden with heavy metals and toxic to most plant life.
The sparse vegetation that does exist is courtesy of plants that have adapted, including a few species of insectivorous plants such as the Pitcher Plant, which is the Provincial flower of Newfoundland and Labrador. These plants eat bugs.
Another unusual adaptation pointed out to us is an ability of some plants to absorb and concentrate the toxic minerals, thus becoming poisonous to animals and insects that might otherwise forage upon them. One such plant ( perhaps field chickweed?) concentrates the toxins into one sacrificial leaf that becomes dark purple and when the leaf finally dies and falls off, the plant “designates” another leaf to take its place.
The mountains of Gros Morne are very old, originating 1.2 billion years ago, and being the northernmost extent of the Appalachian Mountains.
Located on the sea with deep valleys carved by glacier forces, the park also features both saltwater and freshwater fjords.
This is a region which in years past had a significant logging economy, and still supports a fishing industry.
Today we head north 250 miles to the upper tip of Newfoundland’s western peninsula. We hope to see the remnants of a Viking village that dates to the year 900, and perhaps even an iceberg or two.
We will than return to Gros Morne, camping for 2 days near the seashore and, weather permitting, taking a day excursion on the waters of an inland fjord.
After 3 years of COVID delay, we have finally set foot on the soil of the Canadian Province of Newfoundland and Labrador.
It’s a big place, slightly larger than California, with Newfoundland ranked the 16th largest island in the world. Except by air, getting here is not easy, There is an overland route from Quebec across Labrador through hundreds of miles of wilderness with part of the highway being gravel. It is so remote that at either end one is encouraged to rent a satellite phone that will be turned back in at the end of the crossing.
The alternative is the super-ferry from North Sydney, Nova Scotia.
There are two possible destination, either 17 hours to Argentia, or 7 hours to Channel Port aux Basques. We opted for Port aux Basques (@ pop. 5,000}, which leaves us a drive of nearly 600 miles to the main population center and Provincial Capital, St. John’s.
The ferry is not cheap, especially when one is pulling a trailer.
The cost is based upon length, and we total 35 feet, just under US $600.00. This did not include a state room, all of which were already taken, but did include reserved seats which are similar to upgraded economy seats on an airplane. They were ok for sitting, not so much for sleeping, which is preferred since the crossing starts at 11:15 p.m., with an early morning arrival.
The 100 million dollar ship is immense. 650 feet long (that’s over two football fields), 90 feet wide, and able to accommodate 1,000 passengers, 425 cars, nearly 200 commercial trailers, and nearly 100 tractor-trailer combos.
Because of the area it serves it also has some icebreaking capability. There is a bar, restaurant, and some shops aboard. However, this was no cruise ship.
We arrived in Port aux Basques excited, but exhausted. Fortunately, J. T. Cheeseman Provincial Park was only a 10 minute drive from the ferry dock. Officially, check-in is 2 p.m., and we were at the park at 8 a.m.. Since our site was unoccupied we were allowed to set up immediately.
The campground is clean, well organized, and there is wifi outside of the admin building, but no cell service. I am afraid that communications will be a challenge as we proceed.
The surrounding land is reminiscent to us of Iceland, rugged with many rock outcrops. For the most part there is little real forest, the park being an exception.
We are near the seashore and its long sandy beach.
Not far from the park is the Cape Ray Lighthouse.
These waters have been served by a lighthouse at this location since 1871. It is also the location where an underwater telegraph cable was laid in 1856, thus completing the first leg of the Trans-Atlantic cable.
This area has also been identified as hunting grounds for the ancient Dorset people, Who seasonally inhabited these shores from 2000 until 1200 years ago. The area derives its name from the Basque peoples of northern Spain who established camps here, seasonally fishing and hunting whales in these waters in the early 1500’s, some believing they did so before Columbus “discovered” America.
The lighthouse is not open to visitors, but we spoke with the lighthouse keeper, Dale, who was mowing the grass. She kindly posed with Christine for a picture, but apologized that she was in her “mowing” clothes and not in her uniform.
She serves opposite another keeper, in alternating 2 week shifts.
Although it is mid-July, it is spring here because of the climate delay occasioned by the ocean currents. Wildflowers are in bloom.
Temperatures are mild, 60’s by day and 50’s by night., it can be rainy. It is our good fortune to be here in a dry spell which favors campfires and outdoor cooking. Rain is predicted for tomorrow which is when we have a 4 hour drive to our next stoop, Gros Morne National Park.
Peace Everyone. Pete
PS. We went to dinner this evening in a small seaside village about 15 minutes from camp. this was a “locals only“ restaurant as it is off the beaten tourist path. I spied on the menu, “cod tongues“. I had to try them. Cod don’t actually have tongues. This is a small cut of meat taken from the underside of the fishes throat. A delicacy in Newfoundland, not likely found many other places. Not bad!
Later this morning we will break camp from the two days we have enjoyed at Porter’s Lake Provincial Park, located 30 minutes drive from Halifax. Ahead of us is a 5+ hour drive to North Sydney, Nova Scotia, where we will board an ocean ferry at 11:15 p.m. for a 7 hour sail to Port aux Basques in Canada’s Province of Newfoundland and Labrador (NL).
The highlight of this stay has been our day spent yesterday at Halifax’s charming Harbourwalk tourist district.
This boardwalk, nearly 2 miles long, fronts Halifax Harbor where there are restaurants, hotels, shops, kiosk vendors, and street performers aplenty. Fortune gifted us the perfect Saturday for the visit.
Halifax Harbor is the second largest of its kind in the world. With a population of nearly 450,000, Halifax it the largest city in Atlantic Canada. It is a center of culture, commerce, and education. Over a million souls have immigrated into Canada through Halifax. It’s Pier 21 operated from 1928 to 1971 as a major immigration processing station, comparable to Ellis Island in the United States. Today, Pier 21 is Canada’s National Museum of Immigration.
There is far too much to see in Halifax in just a day, so we limited ourselves to the Harbourwalk, and there to just a couple of the featured activities.
We spent pleasant minutes visiting with Glenna at Halifax Harbour Tours before purchasing tickets.
The one hour tour was conducted aboard a delightful vessel built by her husband. He also served as captain on the electric powered boat.
Many of the pictures in this post were taken from aboard the tiny ship that we shared with 7 others, including a couple and their two little ones from Germany. I enjoyed conversation with them in that country’s language. (Thank you Duo Lingo!)
Among the sites observed were:
The harbor lighthouse, which is the oldest in North America.
The historic Canadian research vessel, CSS Acadia, which was active from 1913 to 1969. This ship is the last one afloat in the world that actively served in both World Wars.
The Canada Naval Base at Halifax which had in port vessels that included a submarine.
And of course views of activity along the Harbourwalk itself.
Christine and I toured the World War 2 “Flower Class” Corvette, HMCS Sackville, the last of its kind in existence.
We also toured the extensive galleries of The Maritime Museum of the Atlantic. This museum had significant exhibits dedicated to the Titanic (the world’s largest collection of wood artifacts from that vessel), a remarkable collection of large scale ship models, underwater archeology, shipwrecks, and the Halifax Harbor Disaster of 1917.
A Mark V deep sea diving suit and helmet were among the displays. Manufactured from 1942 to this day, this is the classic piece of commercial and military deep sea diving equipment.
When equipped for use with special gasses, divers could descend over 1,000 feet below the surface. Among the grave risks associated with deep sea “hard hat” dives is that of an air valve failure. In order to operate at depth, air is forced down to the diving suit at pressure equal to that at the diver’s depth, often hundreds of pounds per square inch. If the air return valve fails the diver will immediately and fatally be subjected to that force upon his body. In extreme cases this has literally forced the diver’s body into the helmet, thus being “buried in his helmet”.
On December 6, 1917 two ships collided in Halifax Harbor. One was ladened with nearly 6 million pounds of high explosives which were being directed to the war effort in Europe. At 9:04 a.m. the cargo exploded, the precise moment recorded and frozen in time on the watches of the victims.
Over 1,700 people were confirmed to have died, with nearly 10,000 more injured. Tens of thousands were rendered homeless. Until the first nuclear bomb was detonated, this was the largest man made explosion ever. All buildings within a half mile radius in Halifax and Dartmouth (located across the harbor) were leveled.
The Coroner at the time, Arthur Barnstead (1873-1967) faced the monumental task of identifying, cataloging, and directing burial of the dead. He was aided by employing the systems developed by his father, John Barnstead (1845-1939) who faced the same gruesome task in 1912 with regard to the more than 1,500 victims from the sinking of the Titanic.
There are memories to the 1917 disaster throughout Halifax, the most prominent being the Town Clock on Citadel Hill.
The clock has kept time at that location since 1803. However the 1917 explosion stopped it, precisely at 9:04:35. The north clock face has remained thus fixed, while operation of the other 3 dials facing east, west, and south was restored.
As we neared the end of our day on the harbor I came upon a statue erected in honor of the Lebanese settlers who came to Canada over 130 years ago.
This was especially meaningful to me as both of my maternal grandparents immigrated to America in the early 1900’s from Beirut, Lebanon.
Peace Everyone. Pete
PS. We arrived at the ferry dock in North Sydney, Nova Scotia, too early for check-in. Parked in an abandoned gas station parking lot, we searched online for restaurant options. The only thing that came up for us was pizza and Chinese, neither of which were appealing. Soon, a car pulled up with four older adults who asked if we knew the way to “The Lobster Pound”. They explained that it was a small but well regarded seafood restaurant where reservations were required. Christine looked up the address and was able to provide directions. Thanking her profusely, the couples drove off.
After a brief discussion we decided to call the restaurant just in case a reservation was available. “Yes, but only for 5:30 p.m..”
The timing was perfect, as was Christine’s steak, the salads, ocean chowder, and my remarkable Lobster Thermidor! The Universe continues to smile upon us.
