North Sydney to Louisburg…The Long Night…Short Visit!

Wednesday, July 31
Those of you that follow the blog will note that the last blog was nearly double in length. That was because I had all night to write. The ferry ride from Argentia to North Sydney lasted 16 hours. It was a long night sleeping in those movie theatre chairs!
This morning, we hit the beach and drove down to Sydney. It was Wednesday and another Berlin Water Works Board meeting was in order. I found a nice place to park down by the bay. We could see a rather large cruise ship from Rotterdam.

MASSDAM Cruise Liner in Sydney

It was a perfect location to run the generator and have a phone conference meeting. Helen took advantage and did some shopping and she also made a few telephone calls to friends and family. The meeting ended around 1:15 pm and we packed up and headed for Louisburg and a visit of the old French Fort. This Fort is fully restored and fully staffed with period workers and soldiers. It definitely reminded me of old Williamsburg in Virginia, back in the states. Unfortunately, we didn’t get there until 4 pm and they were closing at 5 pm. We did get to go to the site and visit a little and watch the re-enactors fire the twenty four pound cannon.
I asked a policeman if there was a good place to park for the night. There are at least four RV campgrounds in Louisburg. I didn’t want to pay the high cost of just parking on their grounds. He didn’t exactly tell us where, but suggested we visit across the bay over by the light house.

The Oldest Lighthouse in Canada
viewed from our stay for the night!

There is a beautiful overlook and its pretty quiet and secluded. Guess where we are parked tonight. The view from across the bay of the old fort is shining as I write these last few lines.
Our plan for tonight is to walk around here and reflect on our epic tour of the Canadian Maritime Provinces. It as been an adventure that will be remembered for some time to come.
That is what we did and saw!  

Newfoundland to Nova Scotia…The Ferry

Wednesday, July 31
The decision was made not to travel all the way back through the entire Newfoundland Island. We would take the ferry back from Argenia to North Sydney. I figured that if we subtracted the gas cost from the ferry cost, it would be cost effective. The ferry would take 16 hours. Leaving at 5 pm and arriving around 9 am (Atlantic Time). They didn’t have any cabins left when we did the booking, but the move theatre was warm, dark and fairly quiet. The chairs reclined and were extra wide with arm rest.
With the Atlantic Ferry only leaving a 5 pm we had plenty of time to explore the local area. A Canadian Park sign caught our eye as we passed Placentia. It read “Castle Hill Historical Site.” I turned the truck up the hill and headed to the top of the mountain. Another truck camper was parked there along with a few cars. It was a paid admission, but only $3.40 apiece. The attendant said, “Hello, bonjour.” I answered in French, “Bonjour.” He than proceeded to say, “Parley vous francais? I replied, “yes.” He than said there is a French tour just getting ready to leave. We left with them. The tour guide was a sparky older lady named Rachelle. She gave a four star rated tour. She was also very opinionated. She was very pro French and very anti British. 

No messing around with this young lady!

The explanation of why Placentia was so important in the colonial times was thoroughly explained. The Cod fishing here actually feed a good portion of Europe. The French and English fought back and forth. There were several forts built in this area. One of reasons that the Placentia region was so good for the cod fishing was its stone beach. The fishermen would dry their cod on the rocks. She went on to explain that there were three kinds of way to preserve the fish. On was at sea where they would clean and salt the cod. The second method was called the dry method. The cod would be sent ashore cleaned and laid on the beach. The third method involved a mother ship that would bring in to the shore and the salt would be removed and finished drying on the beach.
As a foot note on the rocks; I being a connoisseur of fine looking rocks, just happen to collect a few specimens. These rocks have a maroon color with white rings embedded into them.

Rachelle... telling it like it is!

Rachelle then took us out to visit the fort and pointed to all of it’s functions and buildings. The cannons were marked with interesting royal markings indicating either French or English. The tour ended and she still continued with her oration. This not being part of the tour. She said that the Americans came here during World War II and forced the village people to move away s they could build an airfield to defend in case of invasion from Germany.
The villagers were given $200.00 and told to move away overnight. They founded a new town called “Dunville” a few miles away. She had no idea that we from the States. Helen did tell her, but she didn’t change her opinion. Most likely she was very right about us Americans moving in.
That is what we did and saw!  

St Johns… The Sheltered Harbor

Monday July 29
I knew St John was the largest city in Newfoundland, but I didn’t expect it to be so difficult to navigate. Most eastern cities on the east coast have no sense of having their streets located North and East and West. No, they all started with the port as their centers. Streets would go in every direction from the hub, very similar to a wagon wheel. Once you run streets in this fashion and begin to add streets in a block fashion, the game is lost and so are you.

St Johns Harbour

We finally made to Cape Spear Lighthouse for a geocache. This cache would be the most eastern geocache in North America.I picked up a geo-coin and will move it along. The wind up there was blowing at 50 miles per hour. It was dangerous to be venturing close to the cliffs. We didn’t want to even camp there fearing the camper would be rocking. We would head back to town and find a campground. Pippy campground nearly in the center of town is located in a forested area. It was naturally pricey, but with excellent WiFi, we stayed the night.
Sun was shining this morning, but the temperature at first was only 52 degree. A must see in St. Johns is “Signal Hill”. This is were Giovanni Marconi received the first Trans Atlantic radio waves. Signal Hill, a mountain that overlooks the city harbour and in the opposite direction the ocean. St Johns was a very important place during several wars. This included 1812 war, World War I and World War II. The United States had 500 troops here guarding against German invasion. The reason St Johns is so important is its location in relation to the distance to Europe and most importantly its harbour. If you closed your hand and imagined your palm as the harbour with just a small channel between your index finger and thumb as the entry channel, you could see how protected it is from North Atlantic storms. Now the biggest ship to enter the harbour was 700 plus feet long and 30 feet wide (an oil tanker).
Today; the harbour is filled with several different types of ships, but mostly working ships that maintain the oil rigs off shore. None of these oil drilling rigs visible from shore. Signal Hill is a very popular jogging place. It is uphill all the way for a couple of miles…good for them! There is a tall stone building on the top with placards depicting Marconi’s accomplishments. We spent a couple of hours enjoying everything it had to offer.
On dissenting the mountain, the downtown was next for our attack on the city. Water Street and Duckworth Street were the ones with all of the “tourist” shops. I am glad that we did stop and shop because of our conversation with this wonderful, shop owner, lady. She had her shop filled with a lot of birding stuff. She said, “ you should visit ‘Cape St. Mary’s” Ecological Reserve,” it is on your way to Argentia to catch the ferry. 
Soon we said farewell to St Johns and headed for the down Avalon Peninsula. This ride would take four to five hours of driving, stopping here and there to explore the different coves and small communities. At the bottom of the peninsula, there are two spur roads that lead to the ocean. The first is to the town of Lance (the name of our truck/camper manufacturer). We had to do this one to get that “Lance” logo to match with the camper. This small town of maybe two dozens houses, at the cove, with its citizens going about their daily lives. A couple of young ladies were jogging the long narrow road to town. Four middle aged guys were having a beer around a four wheeler, they all waved at us as we drove by. They were probably wondering why we would come all the way down this isolated road. I was wondering why anyone would want to live all the way down this isolated road. The answer to both questions is because “we want to”!
The next road spur was to Cape Mary’s Ecological Reserve. I said to myself, “It better be worth it.” At the end of the road, the always present information center was open and a very pleasant park ranger greeted us and explained the rules. The first thing he said was that we were very lucky because Cape Mary  is usually in the fog. The next thing he said is beware of the guide stakes along the path. There are hundred foot drop-offs very close by. We started out the back door to the marked trail. A young couple walked towards us. Smiling ear to ear, he said, “you won’t be disappointed, in just a hundred feet you will get the tease”. Sure enough there about a mile away was a rocky cliff hundreds of feet high peppered with white dots. At least, they looked like white dots.
Another older couple said, “ you won’t need a telephoto lens. You’ll be able to get within 50 feet or so.” The trail now made a long sweep around the drop off. The trail was also mowed very short, probably from the heavy foot traffic. The rest of the meadow was filled with tall grass and wild flowers (purple Iris and little yellow butter cups).
A flock of sheep also were grazing close by. We had to be careful on the trail from stepping in the sheep droppings. It was a moderately paced walk, as we were a little anxious to see what the birds were going to look like close up. The 300 feet of the trail descended gradually to the point of land. It wasn’t a difficult descend, but one had to watch your step as many ankle breakers were present. Also, I could see a orange tackle box (actually a first aid kit) halfway down. This made us even a little more cautious of getting injured.
Now, here we are about a hundred feet away from the cliff edge and from a dead silence to an audible roar of thousands of birds squawking away. We see three other humans at the cliff’s edge photographing intensely. We approached cautiously as the drop-offs are on each side. I am taking pictures with my normal lens, but  I want to switch to the telephoto 300mm. I want to see in their eyes… ever so cautiously getting closer to the edge. It is so high! I can’t even see the water below! I don’t even feel comfortable standing anymore. I must sit to regain my focus on the birds. There are so many birds… some with what I’d call a high wing similar to a C

130 military aircraft. Others are flying like fighter planes in a aerial dog fight. It’s ironic, that I am comparing man made things to mother nature’s. We, man that is, have copied their moves to learn to fly.
The lady to my left, sitting also, is studying the birds directly in front of us. She switches lens on her Nikon to something that is two and a half feet long. She does have a tripod of heavy construction planted firmly between the rocky crevasses. I started to talk to her husband sitting directly to my right rear. Helen, in the mean time, is standing 10 feet behind me taking pictures of the birds and of me working my camera. This activity lasting for a half hour before we retreated to safer ground. This is by far the most intense encounter with the animal world I’ve ever had!
The walk back to the camper was very slow as we contemplated exactly what we just experienced. The last shot that I needed from there was a photo of the working light house with the light flashing directly toward us. Finally, after three shots…mission accomplished! Back at the Visitor Center, which was now closed, we met a women who was alone and looking outward towards the nesting bird area. “Did you go?” I said. “No” she replied. I said “ you must go” and proceeded to show her a few of my photos. “Is it a hard walk”? “No” I replied. She walked over to her husband around on the Visitor Center board walk. She was trying to convince him to go. He said he was a smoker. I said “Take your time. Stop often and have a cigarette,” He laughed and they were getting her camera out of the car as we left.
Back, when we arrived… the Park Ranger had told us that we couldn’t park here over night, but if we just drove a few hundred feet, we would be off park land. We drove about a half hour before we settled on a comfy little spot overlooking the bay. I grabbed a few sunset pictures before going to bed.
That is what we saw did!

St Pierre and Miquelon…The Morning Sun! Part III

Friday, July 26

Our room overlooked the Main Street and the bay. Early this morning, I pulled the curtains to view what I could see. Voila…the sun was shining and little to no fog present. Wow! There… was a large portion of St Pierre that I hadn’t even seen yesterday because of the fog. The restaurant was open down stairs and we got breakfast out of the way. After the croissant along with a fresh baguette, juice and coffee our day would be filled with walking many streets to see what the neighborhoods were doing. People were doing everything you would expect in a small town… clothes being hung on the line,

Me with a Gendarme...You can't see the handcuffs!

maintenance crews watering  the many flowering planters and so on. Some were going to work on their bicycles. All of this happening, as I am trying to capture that unique shot with my Nikon camera.

St Pierre’s Cathedral was in front of us and I tried the door and it appeared to be locked. We stopped a nun and asked if the church would be opened later. She said, “it should be open now.” She tried the door and it opened. The problem for me was that I was pulling outward and the door opened inward. This is a bad “faux pas” back in the good old USA. (Code violation…all public buildings must have doors that swing out in case of fire). The old church had vibrant stain glass depictions. The house colors in town were very bright in every rainbow color…some times on the same house.

Later in the morning, we joined Catherine and Leon and walked over to the Canadian Consulate to check it out. Not much action there, but they did have a healthy vegetable garden.

Picture taken before the one with Gendarme!
Leon, me and the wine!

Catherine gave us some chewable seasick pills for the ride back. This time we skipped lunch. Our departure for 1:30 pm was only an hour away and everybody picked up their luggage stored at the Hotel Robert. They had us checkout for 10 am in order to clean the rooms and setup for the next group of tourist.

Leon and I had a great time chatting about our military careers and also discussing the French way of life. I didn’t mention this before… I don’t think, but everything thing shuts down from 12 noon to 2 pm.

Oh yes, one last thing that was on my mission list… if you remember, was for me to get a picture with a gendarme. Not only did I get a picture, but on a different occasion Helen did also.

We went through customs with nothing more to declare than two baguette breads. On boarding the ship, we noticed that the crew was not standing at the front of the passenger area. The trip back to Newfoundland was as smooth as glass.

We invited Catherine and Leon to visit us back in Berlin, if they are ever that way. I know Leon will be reading this blog and I must say, I truly enjoyed talking to him. I enjoyed his accent especially how he would hold his last word of a sentence.  If you ever heard Forest Gump say…and that’s all I have to say about thattttttttt. We parted ways in the parking lot. We headed up the road and parked off the highway for the night!

That is what we did and saw!

    

St Pierre & Miquelon ~ Surreal…Part II

Thursday, July 25
Part I …Leaves us at the Hotel Robert with a room. Needless to say, after the roller coaster ride on the ferry, the only thing on my mind was the “bed”… no, not for sex either! 

Typical Street in St Pierre

Amazingly after a short 30 min nap, I was completely back to normal! Our mission here at St Pierre was three-fold. First, on the list, was to find a geocache. There was only one cache in St Pierre an another on I’le-aux-Marin's. With the two caches loaded in the GPS, we headed for the coordinates about 1-1/2 miles out of town. We would accomplish two things here. Visit the town in that direction and get the cache.
It was still foggy, but one could see a quarter of a mile and get a feel of the layout of the town. Our “carte” (map) also helped in locating areas of interest. Now on the way to the cache coordinates, we came upon the Island cemetery.

Very Ancient Cemetery...But No Relatives!

An alternate mission here was to see if we could find the family name of St Amant on any of the head stones. Our friend back in Berlin, NH ancestors origins were from this area. We did not find any St Amants here, but with hundreds of stones to look at, we certainly could have missed it. Soon we were out of town in the countryside. As we approached the coordinates, we knew that we were getting close by the cache hints and description. We were in a mossy wooded area just off the roadside. We searched and could actually see foot prints in the lovely green moss of previous geocachers looking for this cache. A half hour of looking did not reveal its hiding place. The last time it was found was in August of last year, most likely by a tourist during the tourist season. The cache was placed in 2004 and could have easily been degraded. We will list this as a DNF (Did Not Find)
The walk back into town was pleasant as we took our time and walked different streets to get a feel on the landscape. The fog wasn’t too bad, but it wasn’t a perfect day for pictures either. The temperature was balmy. We had long sleeves and had brought a wind breaker. We stopped at the hotel to strip down a layer of clothes and continue to survey the little French town. You knew you were in a Territory of France …narrow streets, little Citrons and Peugeot autos.
Later in the evening, we linked up with Catherine and Leon for a splendid dinner at “Saveurs des I’les” restaurant. Leon and I spent hours talking about the Canadian and US Army. The Field Artillery comparisons were amazing! Apparently Helen and Catherine found something to talk about also as they didn’t  bother listening to the “Colonel” and “Chief of Smoke” going over the military missions. It was a great evening! We left the restaurant and walked the streets which were now filled with people. The night life is a part of the day that brings the locals to the restaurants and bars. Can you just picture the lightly lit foggy streets with music and laughter coming through the open bar doors? Is this Paris? And with this I bid you a farewell for tonight.
That is what we did and saw!

St Pierre~Miquelon…The Trip…Part I

Thursday, July 25
Our stop last night was at Fisherman’s Cove about 20 miles from Fortune (the ferry departure port). It was a quiet Provincial Campground with not too many campers present. As usual, in the morning, I had a big breakfast to carry me over the Islands. In no time we were packed up and tooling down the road to Fortune. The ticket office was just opening up and three young ticket agents were helpful in getting us all squared away with parking arraignments, passport info and boarding time. The ship pulled in around 8 am and passengers disembarked. The crew cleaned everything before letting us board. Now, the crew spoke French, but not the type of French we are use to. We could understand them, but had to listen carefully. Their English was even worse! The twin hull ship was about 100 feet long and in good looking shape. We pulled out of the harbour on time, but it was drizzling and very foggy. Three of the crew were standing at the head of the passenger compartment looking at us sort of strangely. Like they were waiting for something to happen. Here it comes!

Notice the lower part of my face...Green/Gray!

The ship started to jump the waves ahead of us. At first, I taught this was kind of fun. More wet towels going out… I mean a couple of dozen people not looking so good back there. We were sitting in the front row seats along with our new friends Catherine Gagnon and her husband Leon Jensen. Now the wet towels are going out with the little white bags. The twin hull ship is now coming down very hard on the approaching waves. Bang, bang as the hull hits more waves. The ferry is not rolling too much side to side, but just going for and aft abruptly. The Captain does slow it down a notch or two. I’m getting hot myself, I ask for a towel. Helen is doing ok two seats over with Catherine to my left and Leon to my right. Oh, oh… I need a bag! Remember the big breakfast this morning…not such a good idea! I didn’t use the bag, but it was close. Catherine was a little green herself. Leon… well, he just kept telling war stories…more about that later. The crew member said when we reach I’sle Verte (Green Island) the ocean will be calmer. Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into St Pierre. Of course, it was pea soup fog and we didn’t see much at first. Going through Customs was easy and our passports got the official cancellation of France.
I had tried to email a reservation at a B and B, but  had not received a confirmation. We followed or new friends to the Hotel Robert and were lucky to get a room.
Before our departure, when I was gone to park the camper back in Fortune at a remote parking lot, Helen began a conversation with Catherine. Her husband was close to retirement from the Canadian Reserve Forces. “Oh boy”, Helen said, “your husband and my husband are going to get along fine”.
Leon is a Colonel and he comes from a Field Artillery background. The same military background as I. Needless to say, we spent the next 24 hours talking military and how many places our military duty has crossed paths and places. I will talk about St Pierre and Miquelon in the next blog.
That is what we did and saw.

Bonavista…Huffing and Puffin!

Saturday, July 27
It would be a relatively short 85 mile jaunt, up the road, to the Bonavista area this morning. The attraction there would be to see nesting Puffin birds. Their beaks with orange, whites and black and white bodies make them so loveable to humans and especially kids.

The Puffins at Home!

Before going to Bonavista, we were told to make it to Elliston, a short distance off of our route. Here we would  see Puffins and possibly see Minkie whales, that is if the creel fish were running. The road was paved, but extremely heaved. It was a good thing that the distance was only about five miles. I was averaging 20 miles per hour with the camper rolling side to side. The little town of Elliston had a welcoming sign which read “Welcome  to the World’s Largest Root Cellar Community”. The root cellars were all over the place. Our stop at a charming information center got us on the right road to watch the Puffins. I must say that the locals here have a pronounced accent. (Most likely from Scottish descendants).
At the point of land was the sign, “Puffin Viewing This Way”. The walk took us across a meadow and than narrowed between a drop-off on either side to the ocean. This path repeated a couple more times with the cliffs getting higher and the drop offs closer to the path. 

Loving the Views!

Finally we came to the end of the path and the Puffins (across from us on a separate island) were in view. A little girl (with her parents) looked unhappy. Her mother said her daughter wanted to pet the Puffins. I switched to my long lens and spent the next half hour shooting pictures of the Puffins and of the equally beautiful landscape.
Our friends, Catherine and Leon, had been here before and told us to drive-up the road as they did and were able to view the Puffins up and close. That’s what we did, but the seagulls were there feeding on fish remains that the fishermen had just cleaned. The Puffins were off at a distance.
This part of Newfoundland is in my opinion more geologically impressive than the rest. The rocky cliffs are fractured making for very interesting design patterns. I did take a lot of photos and will experiment with black and white renditions on our return home.
The root cellars, as I said above, were all over the coastal landscape and at the information center the lady said that any root cellar that had an open door was open to the public. I did poke my head into one. The interior had two wooden bins that were empty. That’s the way the garden vegies would keep before refrigerators and electricity came along.
Time to move on to Bonavista! The community is larger than most. It has a fish processing plant and appears to employ a good portion of the townspeople. The docks had several of the larger fishing trawlers moored.
It was mild and the sun poked through the clouds. We couldn’t resist going to the lighthouse first and see the view. In the parking lot, was another Lance truck camper. I could see out on the rocky peninsular a couple  were also looking towards our Lance camper. We walked towards them and I said, “I drove all the way up here to see if I could find another Lance camper”. It’s a small world. The owners, Joe Harvey and his wife Marcia, were from Ohio. I asked Joe if he was related to Paul or Doug Harvey, “no” he said. They are planning a trip to Alaska for next year and we conversed on that subject for a while. Now you have to picture this…we are talking next

to a high cliff overlooking the ocean below. In the corner of my eye, I spot two men coming over the cliff on the opposite side of a little cove. I feel they are in a very dangerous place. Plenty of loose rocks under foot and such. They are walking around like two Dahl sheep. I grabbed my camera and expected to catch a disaster of them falling. Nothing happened and they finally came our way and we spoke to them. They weren’t young guys either. One of them told me that he was Indian and his origins were from an Island 60 miles from here. I guess that explains their agility around the cliffs.

I spotted a few more Puffins and took the shots. Unfortunately, the weather was changing and the wind was erratic. Those pictures came out blurred. A strong thunder shower approached with  lightning bolts shooting to the ground. It was time to evacuate the high ground. A few miles back to town for more exploration.

A Catholic church, sitting on a hill caught our attention. A stop indicated that a mass was scheduled for 9 am on Sunday. That would fall into our plans to stay here for the night. Our day was still not done as far as exploration. Just before Cape Bonavista lighthouse is the Dungeon Provincial Park. The seascapes here are calendar perfect! Although there isn’t official camping here, many campers park their rigs along the coast line and set up camp. We stayed there for a while, but because of the wind, we went back to town for the night. Dungeon Provincial Park is named after the two caves that originated inland a couple of hundred feet from the ocean. The boxed canyon has two tunnels that have ocean water coming in forming the “Dungeons”.

The most important landmark in these parts is the fact that John Cabot landed here in 1492 and found “Newfoundland.” I could only imagine what he was thinking when he spotted this marvelous landscape!

That is what we did and saw!