The Newfoundland Expedition, August 2011, Part Vll

Sorry for the long delay in our continued adventures!   We had many things happening here at Hawk Circle, so those updates will be coming as soon as I complete the Newfoundland Expedition Chronicles for 2011.   So, on to the adventures!

A foggy morning at the Pistolet Bay Provincial Campground

We left our campsite at Pistolet Bay and headed one last time for the icebergs, this time at St Carol's Cove, as we had a tip from some locals about the scene there.  However, we were unprepared for the fog, the sweet ocean air, and a tiny community clinging to the shores of a beautiful cove, packed with brilliant white bergs of ancient ice.   Warm air flowed over the rocky barrens and instantly turned into thick mist that hung over about fifty feet over the dark water.   I was surprised to see that the water, even in the low light, was crystal clear.  I could see all the way to the bottom near the shore.   Mussels grew thick in the rocks in the tidal wash, and dark seaweed and sea urchins.

We sat on the rocks, with car sized chunks of ice floating and rocking in the water right near us, glowing a pearly white and occasionally vibrant electric blue in veins.   We each wandered apart at times, then coming together to sit and listen to the sound of the gulls, the waves and the grinding of the ice.   I saw the spout of a whale but never caught a glimpse of it among the glacial behemoths.  

Dark Water, Ancient Ice

Enjoying the Icebergs at St Carol's Cove, Newfoundland

As I sat there, I just kept thinking about the nine mile long berg that floated down from Greenland, that melted apart as it drifted past Labrador, that had been frozen in time ten thousand years ago.   I thought about walrus, polar bears and wolves that might have wandered across the ice in those thousands of years, moving along in search of food or mates.  Wolverines, caribou and arctic fox?   Wooly mammoths?   Musk ox?   It boggled my mind, that the ice I was watching was older than the Pyramids.  It was older than Jesus, in the purity of a world that was moving to the rhythms and flow of creation.

A particularly large 'berg in the Cove

I thought about the promises I made to myself when I was in the Eastern Sierras in the summer of 1984, about my love for the mountains, the Earth, for a life in nature that isn't polluted, or corrupt, or full of suffering.   I know it is more than romantic ideas of a perfect world, but sitting there, on the shores of that northern bay, I could feel a deep sense of truth, or purity, or something, really, I can't describe it.   It was something so wild, primal and alive that there were no words.  It just felt really good to be there, sitting and looking at that ice.

The clear, dark waters of Newfoundland

When something feels that good, it is hard to stop, but eventually, we got hungry, and we moved around the crags, exploring and talking a little.   Ben rode an iceberg for a while near the shore, too.   It was pretty awesome, although I thought he was going into some deep, very cold water!

When we got back to the dock where we had parked, I saw a fisherman returning from a trip out, and I got a chance to talk to him about fishing, crabbing and cod, about hunting moose and caribou, and life in the far north.   We talked about the roadside gardens, and the wood piles outside of town and along the highway, and the dangers of driving at night with moose on the roads.   We talked about the price of boats and motors, and more.   I gave him some of Trista's Elderberry Syrup and he ran up to his house nearby while his kids skipped stones along the cove, and returned with a priceless gift for us:   A few pounds of frozen cod fillets, a bag of frozen shrimp and a box of red fish fillets too.   We had been looking all over the island to find some local seafood, and this man gave us some of his family's harvest as a gift that meant more to us than I could say.   We didn't know what else to say, but thank you.   We put it all in our cooler to stay frozen, along with the chunks of iceberg ice, and our milk and cheese and all...

The St Carol's Cove Waterfront

I felt so freaking grateful to this land, the people and the animals, and driving away was bittersweet.   We went over to St Anthony's Bight for one last look, and a few cloudberries, and the sweet scent of balsam.   We ended up in town too, to get a few food items, do laundry and repack our vehicle.

Newfoundland is a trip, and I can honestly say, it is completely surreal to go from the coast and barrens to the inside of the St Anthony Mall.   (Viking Mall, I think it is called.)   I got some batteries, and some breakfast cereal, and trail mix, I think, but it was fun walking up and down the aisles, looking at the different foods, the people shopping, and I will admit that I liked eavesdropping on conversations (at least, the ones I didn't join in on!) as I loved the dialect and accents, and hearing about daily life in this place.   In some ways, it was just as profound as being by the ice.   I don't expect anyone to understand this unless you've been there.   Or maybe I am just strange!  I kind of wish I had some pictures to help you see what I mean, but alas, I have none!

The snug homes in St Carol's Cove community

Our clothes weren't dry yet, so I went over to the Hotel North across the street and tried to use the internet there to check my email.  It worked for about ten minutes, so I sent a few messages home, and then I made my first mistake of the afternoon.   I went to the Far East Restaurant.  Yeah, I know.   Chinese food in the Far North?   Well, I know now!    It wasn't good.   Seriously.   I should have gone to Jungle Jim's, or the place I really wanted to try, Flavor Crisp Chicken.   And none of those choices would have been that great in some ways, but hey, it happened.   I probably shouldn't have written this, but what the heck, it's out there now!

The succulent cloudberry, in it's native habitat

We got our clothes, nice and clean and dry, and began our journey south again.   Our plan was to take a smaller highway, along the eastern coast, after leaving St Anthony and looping around to see some of the other countryside, but when we were about twenty miles from the town my gas light came on and I had forgotten to fill up.   We drove on, hoping we could get gas at the Airport, which is well outside of the community, by the way, but when we got there, they didn't have any pumps or ways to get fuel.   One of the airport staff said she would follow us down the coast line to the closest gas station, which was in Eddy's Cove, I think.   We drove and drove, kilometer after kilometer, past moose on the shores of unnamed lakes, hoping to make it.   We past several tiny communities, and were literally about four hundred feet from the gas station when my Xterra finally quit.   We ended up pushing a little, then got some fuel from the station in a small tank, which got our car to the pumps easily.     We bought some cookies along with our gas and thanked our Airport angel and continued on our way.

St Anthony's Bight, one last time

We drove south for a bit, and then stopped at a small store that also had a sort of restaurant/pub.   It started to drizzle and the fog rolled in cold and wet, so we ended up getting a meal there.   It was crowded with tourists and locals who had been part of the "Coming Home" celebration, so the waitresses were pretty much flat out tired, but we weren't too worried about it.   Just in case you are in Newfoundland and are ordering off of a menu there, here's a tip: When the sign or menu says "Fillet Sandwich, it actually means chicken breast fillet, not fish fillet!   There were a few of us who had been hoping for fresh fish and got caught on this technicality, but we want to be sure to pass this bit of wisdom on to the next person passing through!   (Maybe they should have a little booklet when you go through the border?   Ha ha, just kidding!)

We drove through the rain for about an hour or so, until we were ready to crash, and then we turned down another highway, and started to wind up into the mountains a bit.  It was pitch black night, and very foggy, and I kept thinking I was going to see moose or hit moose or whatever, so we saw a small dirt road and started driving down it, trying to find a place where we could pull off to the side and put up our tents.   We drove and drove, and found a place with a big lawn, that was near a house that seemed deserted, and put up our tents, covered our leaky one with a tarp, and settled in for the night.

Inside the restaurant

So, all of this happened in just one day, but that is just how it is with Newfoundland.   Every day is an adventure, when you are traveling and exploring and all.   To find out where we woke up, and what we did next, you will have to read all about it in my next blog post, coming soon!   If you have any questions or want to add anything, please leave a comment.  It's free and appreciated, so help yourself!