Never have I had a town and its inhabitants impact me so heavily and quickly as Francois, Newfoundland. A narrow opening along the southwest coast leads you into a steep, rocky fjord where you’ll find the picturesque fishing town clinging to the bottom of high cliffs. However, this isn’t just any town.

There are no roads or cars, just boardwalks for ATVs, snowmobiles, and foot traffic. A short but steep hike above the village leads you into a vast and stunningly rugged backcountry full of high hills and ponds. Made up of 65 friendly residents and rich in history, Francois is like stepping back in time into a bygone era of the province. It was the perfect focus for our second trip to Newfoundland and Labrador.

Last year, we went to Gros Morne National Park with a couple of friends to complete the famous Long Range Traverse. The sheer scale of Western Brook Pond and the surrounding landscapes blew our minds, but by spending nearly all of our time out in the backcountry we didn’t allow for much opportunity to truly experience the people and culture that Newfoundland is known and loved for. Still, the province stole our hearts and we vowed to return.

This time around, the southwest coast provided the perfect combination of immense nature with strong culture and genuine hospitality. As it is accessible only by boat or helicopter, we took the once-a-day ferry from Burgeo for five hours along the remote and rugged coastline. The route ran parallel to harsh, windswept and eroded rocky cliffs and deep fjords. It looked similar to but not quite like a lot of places—Iceland, Scotland, Norway, even Hawaii in parts!

Upon arriving in Francois, we were helped off the boat and greeted by Nancy and George Durnford, part of a family lineage that has been an integral part of the community since the 1860s. George loaded up our gear on an ATV, while Nancy walked us through town to our charming vacation home that the couple takes care of on behalf of The Old Salt Box Company. She showed us around with casual and genuine pride, and spoke of the glory days when the town’s fishing boom population reached over 300.

While planning our trip to Newfoundland, we had researched an area on the south coast called Devil’s Bay, home to a massive granite rock face known locally as the Blow Me Down Wall, rising nearly 400m out of the Atlantic and perfect for rock climbing. It resembles Yosemite National Park but on the ocean. We tried to plan a way to fit in into our trip to Francois, but it didn’t seem possible this time around.

Since we no longer had our camping gear, we asked George Durnford if he knew anyone who might be willing to take us out on a boat, and he immediately answered “yeah George Fudge’ll take you out”! The next morning, sure enough, local legend George Fudge showed up in his pride and joy, a boat called “the Royal Oak”. Not only was he willing to take us for a ride, but he told us—quite casually—that he would take us right into Devil’s Bay to see Blow Me Down up close and personal. Incredible.

As we approached Blow Me Down, we were rendered speechless while George spewed casual stories of first ascentionists as porpoises jumped alongside us, welcoming us to Devil’s Bay. While in its shadow, we had already begun scheming our return to the Yosemite of the sea, next time with climbing gear.

Once back in Francois, we were still able to fit a lot of short hikes and exploring in before departing. It wasn't easy to leave as we were starting to feel comfortable and at home there but we look forward to returning again in the future!

In Search of Devil's Bay

Hayley Gendron

Led by my cousin Wendy and her husband Dennis (Botwood-born),  my husband Vince and I enter Newfoundland with tourist expectations. We leave with the spirit of the Rock inside us. From every window of our car, a panorama of beauty captures us. Rocky cliffs ring the roads. Trees like old green fences bend in the direction of the wind. Houses of all different colours blend into the landscape with artistic freedom. Blankets of lupin, daisies, buttercups, roses and clover sweetly scent the air.

The Spirit of the Rock

The rocks, as impossible as it may seem, add to the beauty because they are every different hue and line.  Slate smears through a hill of granite.  Purple-tinged, yellow, orange, white and black, the stones and rocks are, of course, what gave Newfoundland its nickname: The Rock.  
Boats and ships bob on the water between the channels (called tickles) and lobster traps are neatly piled here and there across the landscape. Eagles soar past.

The Rock

One particular day on our journey, we arrive at the Witless Bay Ecological Reserve for our boat adventure. The sun is warm and the wind refreshing. As we head out to sea, the waves are high and the ship plows up and then down again, a swing and a dip.

Our Gatherall's hosts are funny, as well as talented singers and tour guides. We arrive first at Gull Island, where thousands of birds huddle on the rocks. Slip and slide as they climb the steep sides. Fly in clouds of wings above us. 

Witless Bay

Puffins here are as numerous as the murres and seagulls. They flap their small duck wings furiously to combat the wind and propel their chubby little bodies. They are beautiful, with their orange beaks and feet. 
We then roller coaster further out to sea and suddenly, we are surrounded by whales. Spouts everywhere. Captain Al says there are about 50 in the area. The humpbacks are the most playful. With a swish and a loud puff of water, two female humpbacks swim alongside our ship. 

Puffins and Whales

Suddenly a male swims right up to us. Cavorts and shows off. Dances on the water. His tail lifts up and out, glints white and silver. Sometimes the whale slips gracefully under the waves, sometimes he slaps a loud tattoo. Proud and joyful, showing us what he can do. Tail up, down, sprays of white foam. Rolling over, fins in the air, first one, then two, then one again. This time he slaps the surface with his fin and the sound reverberates throughout the bay. He dives, reappears, close, so close!

Dancing on the Water

We feel as though we can touch him.

Vince and I catch each other's eyes. The emotion of this moment overwhelms us: we both want to weep with the beauty of this animal and the gift that he has just given us. The whale continues to roll and cavort until we must reluctantly head back to shore. 


The Gift

We have to head home tomorrow.  "I trust we had a wonderful trip, saw some amazing sights, learned a few things, had a lot of laughs, met some interesting people and strengthened our friendships. Travel is about creating memories. I hope we have managed to create a lot of lasting, treasured memories over the last few days." So reads Wendy's travel book. Her hopes have more than come true. End of this wondrous journey.  But how many times have I said the words “next time we visit"? Countless!

Alas, all good things must come to an end...

Spirit of the Rock

Cathy Astolfo

This is the unlikely story of bringing my husband to Newfoundland. Not once .. but twice. I was a newcomer to Newfoundland, and he was a newcomer to Canada, and through his eyes I have been falling in love, and viewing my country with very new eyes. This is our story. It's a love story between two people that met across continents and then together, fell in love with a big rock called Newfoundland. We did it in a rather unique way. Here is our story ...

AN UNLIKELY STORY OF LOVE ...

We have never been ones to follow the crowd. We were out for ADVENTURE! We packed our healthy appetites for fish, a love for sweets, some hardy clothes, binoculars and a tent , we rented a car, booked some B&B's, exploded with excitement when we got our maps and our traveller's guide FREE (yes free!) in the mail and booked our trip for JUNE. Yes JUNE. And we did this not once but twice. It was the most magical month in Newfoundland and the best decision we ever made! BRING ON THE NATURE! 

LETS GO IN JUNE !!!

Here is one thing I can tell you about Newfoundland. If you are anything like us, be prepared to STOP. And I mean A LOT. Some days it took us 2 hours to go 5 kilometres. At every turn we felt the urge to stop and discover. There were picnics to be had, lonely walking paths to roam (THANK YOU for those paths! We were amazed that this small province put so much money, time, thought and infrastructure to allow us to gorge on the nature with those lovely paths!). It made us feel safe to wander! 

THE SLOWEST TRIP OF OUR LIVES ...

There are no lighthouses (that we know of) in Africa. So lighthouses were in order. We walked around them, we wandered inside them, we wished we were lighthouse keepers, we dreamt of going back in time and BEING lighthouse keepers. Our imaginations were fuelled by lovely guides that spun tales of the lonely lives and the hardships that befell the people that lived in these cylindrical towers and kept boats safe with magical flags and short lived summer gardens. p.s. my husband is now a BAYMAN! 

IT ALL STARTED INNOCENTLY WITH A LIGHHTHOUSE

I screamed when I saw my first iceberg. No word of a lie it crept up on us! We were driving up, we were driving down, we were driving up .. and then suddenly .. I screamed. No words to describe it, no photo will capture it, we smelled it, we watched them rock and roll and melt day by day .. we ate a few pieces that washed up on shore and wondered at the millions of years in our mouths. And then as mysteriously as they appeared, they would be gone. We were now following the ice. 

WOULD YOU LIKE SOME ICE WITH THAT ?

Now once you've been to Newfoundland, you always go back for more. And our second trip 'round we had an ice experience that none could have imagined. Not just icebergs my friend, but ICE. The ice was late in going out, a sorry tale for the fishermen who couldn't get their boats in the water, but for two weeks the ocean was scattered in white and we felt we had gone to another planet. Around every corner is another surprise and Mother Nature reminds you, you have never "been there, done that". 

AND MORE ICE ... WITH A VIEW !!!

There's an African saying "If you don't eat the big fish, the big fish will eat you" (Canadian translation "We seafood we eat it") So naturally we gorged on the freshest most mouthwatering seafood a traveller could wish for. We had daily (yes DAILY) competitions to find the best chowder and biggest decision of every day was always "Cod, lobster, scallops or crab legs?" We even squeezed in a Jiggs dinner and adventurously tried some capelin (decided to leave that one for the whales!) 

FILLING OUR BELLIES

If there was one thing that my husband missed moving from a village in Africa to a big city in Canada, it was the friendly greetings even from strangers that is daily life in his African culture. Well you better believe the people of Newfoundland made him feel right at home - even though he was continents away! Forget taking 2 hours to go 5 kilometres ... we could spend 2 hours PER PERSON chatting with the locals, spinning yarns, learning about their culture and of course, a few tall tales B'y! 

A FRIENDLY GREETING

We followed the birds to see the whales and that got us looking up. When we left the whales we just looked for the birds and WHAT BIRDS WE FOUND! There were days when we went home with funny rings around our eyes from pressing our binoculars so tightly to our faces to catch the flocks ... so many millions of birds in the sky it looked like someone was pouring pepper into the clouds! 

FOR THE BIRDS

If someone had told us at the start of our adventure that we would be enthralled by rocks I would have laughed. Whales and Icebergs? Oceans and cliffs? Yes! But rocks? It doesn't take long to start "Rocking Out" in Newfoundland! We walked on the earth's yellow crust split open like the moon, marvelled at thrombolites  (oh yes! Look them up!), found crazy fossils where the earth turned upside down like the pages of an ancient geological history book. Pretty soon we could leave no stone unturned! 

THE ROCK

Be it campsite or cozy B&B, we frankly, no word of a lie, spent every night marvelling at HOW we managed (once again) to find the best place in the whole wide world to lay our heads! Our campsite views were like postcards where we cooked campfire meals staring out over the ocean. Our B&B owners plied us with homemade treats bursting with hand picked berries and breakfast feasts. I smell in my mind's eye moose sausage, maple syrup, warm bread and warmer conversations! We ALWAYS had sweet dreams. 

WHEREVER WE LAY OUR HEADS IS OUR HOME

You will never come up empty handed when you go off the beaten path in Newfoundland. You will always find something magical that takes you by surprise. EVERY TIME. Go slow. We have shared a moment with a moose, found a sock store on the side of the road, enjoyed the artistry of many a sled waiting for the winter to haul wood ands got lost in a handful of seashells ... 

OFF THE BEATEN PATH

I have not named names of any of the fine places we have travelled in this story. It is a tale of love, and of falling in love with the very essence of what to us, is Newfoundland. There is not just one town or a dot on the map where you will find amazing things - they are everywhere to be had as soon as you put your foot out the door. It is as place of discovery ... and self discovery. 

THE STORY NEVER ENDS

I was proud too be able to share with my husband such an amazing place not once but twice. It is a place that is dear to us as it was where I feel he first really got a taste of not only Newfoundland, but of the Canada I wished for him to know. We both feel at home there. And I hope we get to go back there soon .... I know we will. 

THE END

WHEN AFRICA AND CANADA MEET NEWFOUNDLAND ...

Wander Woman

“The whales are foolish this year.” 

So says my friend Andrew, a proud Newfoundlander who knows a thing or two about both whales and foolishness. When I ask him if this year is special, he admits that some years he might not be in the right place to see lots of whales. But this year, “the whales are just bananas.” 

I take this as a good sign. I’m visiting Newfoundland in hopes of seeing whales—being foolish or going bananas or just swimming by, being their magnificent selves. 


After landing in St. John's we head straight to the Bonavista Peninsula where Andrew reports his best sightings.  “We went to Bonavista's lighthouse twice," he tells me, "and each time we must have seen two dozen whales, all gone cracked."

We cycle to the lighthouse and see three humpback whales offshore. They rise slowly, break the surface of the water, blow and then slide back into the depths with nary a tail wag. This is definitely not cracking behaviour. But it is still thrilling. 


We trade our calm whale viewing for chaotic birdwatching when we head down the road to Elliston where hundreds of puffins are busy doing puffin stuff—nesting, diving, flying, and skimming the water with those cute little puffin butts.


With Bonavista in our rear-view mirror, we rent a cabin on the Baccalieu Trail and settle into the small community of Blackhead for a spell. One evening our neighbour Mardi steps onto her porch, sees me coming up the walk and asks, “Did you hear the whales?”

Indeed I did! Although we’re across the main road and a good 200 metres from the shore, we’ve both heard the distinctive "Pfuussshhhhhh!" of humpbacks as they blow moist, warm air through their blowholes. 

And we’ve heard not just one exhalation but puff after puff after explosive puff.  

Before you can say “Lard Tunderin Jaysus” (a delightfully versatile Newfoundland exclamation) Mardi has jumped on her ATV, handed me a helmet and we’re bouncing our way to the ocean’s edge for a better look. 



And what a look! Some 15 humpbacks (a number that will increase to 20 by tomorrow’s telling of this tale and to more than two dozen the day after that) are in fine form--blowing, waving their fins, showing their tails and leaping into the air to breach again and again and again. 

I feel foolish trying to capture this spectacle with my little iPhone. But then it dawns on me: In Newfoundland, foolishness can be a very good thing.


Cracked Whales and Newfoundland Tales

Ann Britton Campbell

Even though “Uncle Jack” has long been gone, his memories are alive and well and living in this story. Thank you, Uncle Jack, for your passion and persistence that the great outport times be remembered.  Because of you, “The Forgotten Coast” of Newfoundland has been given new life.


A Pushthrough Time: Part One

I first saw the outport of Pushthrough in the summer of ’72 while traveling on a coastal boat along the sou’west coast of Newfoundland. People called this part of the island “The Forgotten Coast” because most of its inhabitants had abandoned their homes and moved inland. Village after village sat desolate, ghost towns of a past era. 
But there was something different about Pushthrough.


Headstone in Pushthrough

It was early evening. As I stood alone on the deck of the coastal ferry, the CN Tavener, I could see the outport’s many houses. The windows appeared to be lit from within, although the place was mysteriously vacant. Even after three years of desertion, Pushthrough looked romantic and alive. A bittersweet feeling of melancholy and adventure passed through me. It was love at first sight.


View of the abandoned outport of Pushthrough 

The coastal boat, impervious to the mystery on shore, drifted along, her bow headed for the next port of call, McCallum. Here the people had decided to stay. As we pulled into the harbour, I wondered: why did one outport abandon and the other hang on? 


Outport of McCallum - which still exists today

I ran below deck, and sharing this excitement with my husband, Michael, and our young son, Nicholas, I made a suggestion: why not get off the ferry and explore Pushthrough the next day? They liked the idea.  And so, in the middle of this mid-summer evening , we landed on McCallum’s wharf with nowhere to sleep but the outport’s church. The next day a bewildered fisherman welcomed us aboard his dory, and we headed back along the Forgotten Coast...Thus began my love affair with Pushthrough.


Fisherman (with Michael) taking us to Pushthrough

It was an exciting affair – an affair that changed the direction of my life. At a very young age, my relatively carefree teenage existence was transformed when I found myself pregnant. It was 1969, and Michael and I were in love: our friends called us “Romeo and Juliet”, so getting married was the most natural thing to do. 

Wedding: Dawn & Michael June 1969

Studying from taped notes that Michael brought home to me from courses at high school, I trod through grade twelve; meanwhile nursing our son, Nicholas, and helping Michael become an aspiring artist.


Michael and wee Nicholas

Young, poor and idealistic, it was then we decided that Toronto with its fast-paced, “capitalistic” way of life was not for us. Influenced by a friend of ours, Thoreau MacDonald - son of J.E. H. MacDonald, one of the Group of Seven – and his love of simplicity and nature, we daily grew vexed with the urban managed world around us. We devoured the books of Henry David Thoreau and Farley Mowat. 

One of Farley Mowat's books

We too wanted a wilderness of our own. We wanted adventure. We wanted to live off the grid. Hippies at heart, we rebelled and agreed it was time to break out of the city and move on. 
After reading Mowat’s books, Never Cry Wolf and People of the Deer, we wondered if the Arctic was the answer to our needs. And so, chancing a visit, we went to visit Farley.  Seeing two teenaged kids with a kid of their own at his door, Farley graciously invited us in and introduced us to his wife, Claire.   


Farley Mowat

With patience they listened to our story.  
Without much ado, Farley said the Arctic was not for us...definitely not for us...too much going on up there...
no, no, not for us. Then he asked us if we were really willing to pull up all roots; roots that had been planted in convenience. Were we truly willing to try a new way of life; in a land of isolated, rugged and wild beauty?
“Yes!” we answered without hesitation.


Pushthrough long ago (from St. Albans archives)

“Then go to the Rock, byes,” he said, pointing his finger due east. “Go to Newfoundland, and in time you will find what you are looking for.”
That summer of ’72 we packed our van, left Toronto, and the three of us headed due east. Landing in Newfoundland, we explored the three coasts of the island by road, until we reached the “Forgotten Coast”, a coast with no roads.

partial map of sou'west ("Forgotten") coast

The only way to travel was by coastal boat, and that night, standing on the deck of the CN Tavener, and gazing across the water at Pushthrough, I knew we’d found what we were looking for...

We spent three glorious days exploring the outport, and so wild was our excitement, we decided to move in as soon as possible. Returning to Toronto, we purged ourselves of all material possessions. 


CN coast boat, The Tavener

What need did we have of a van in a place with no roads? We would get there by train and coastal boat. There was no electricity in the outport, so who needed a radio, TV, lamps, phone? We took only boxes and boxes of food, clothes, bedding, dishes, books, toys, art supplies and a new collie dog we called Colleen. Anything else we would need, we could purchase at the one store in McCallum. 

Little did we know what lay ahead. 
(To be continued in Part Two...)

Dawn, Nicholas, Collie (on our wharf in Pushthrough)

A Pushthrough Time: Part One by Dawn Neill

Dawn Elizabeth

This moment marks the beginning of this journey and I am right here at Cape Spear Lighthouse where the day begins. I had this rare opportunity to be standing at the cliff's edge of the continent literally turning my back to the rest of the world and quietly waiting for the first morning light over the Atlantic Ocean. What a way to start my 8 day travel to this land, maybe I might find my place under the sun.

I've seen so many sunrise in the past but this one might be the most memorable one.

Chasing Sunrise

I arrived at St. John's with the weather being moody and grey, a big part of me wanted to see the city this way. This made a perfect backdrop for their vibrantly coloured row of houses, it created a great contrast to a grey canvas and this visual phenomenon is seen everywhere. 
It made me realized that this is a creative reflection of the people this province represents, each colour speaks of their unique spirit and distinct cultures.

Grey or not in any season, St. John's always shine through.

This City Shines Through

The hard chase to find an iceberg was suspenseful, even that day didn't promise I will see one, but I am determined the road I took will lead me there. Then we made it and she was there hiding behind the rugged coastal cliffs of Twillingate. We sailed closer and her mighty presence became more powerful. 
How can Mother Nature sculpt a piece of glacier so perfectly and end up with this beauty!

Now I have more memories to keep and stories to tell, this one I told is just the tip of the Iceberg.

The Quest for Iceberg

I rose to bed at the crack of dawn and I'm up for a beautiful sunrise from a small quiet town of Twillingate. Everything was still, there's no sign of movement except from my footsteps and my shutter's click. Everything seems frozen for me to capture it's raw natural beauty.
On my way back for my next adventure, I began to come across some locals who would wave at me like I'm their neighbour, their warmth tells me to stay longer.

I came here for the Iceberg, I left the town with so much more.

The Next Unscripted Moment

A flicker of an early morning light woke me up on my first day at Gros Morne National Park. I can't miss it, after all, this view is worth watching. I saw the mountains on the horizon and I knew I'm up to something huge and majestic! I just can't imagine visiting Newfoundland without seeing this park, this was 500 millions years in the making to create this ancient world.

I may never be able to conquer all of Gros Morne but being able to hike through some of it was enough for now, until next!

Into The Wilderness

Something mystical and ancient about Tablelands is the feeling that I have arrived in another world of a different time. I have walked through the rugged landscape which rolled endlessly and where fresh glacial water is abundant. I have experienced to hold some metamorphic rocks that came from the Earth's mantle which took millions of years for them to be exposed right there.

This part of Gros Morne National Park is truly unique, and I had such an incredible experience I brought home with me.

Lost in Another World

My yearning to see Western Brook Pond triggered the whole journey. Miles of fjords formed by the force of glaciers is such a scenic delight - pristine pond, steep rock wall, lush forest and waterfalls, one of them is among the highest in North America called Pissing Mare Falls, such a phenomenal sight to behold!

The chance to hike the mountain and see the pond from the top is still elusive, but I know one day it will happen. For now, my view from below is still nothing short of breathtaking.



Sail Through The Pond

I arrived at Bonavista Harbour on a foggy afternoon and the wharf was quiet. The history that belongs to this place is still evident, the scent still lingers, after all, this was once the place of the largest salt cod fish mercantile firm in the 19th century.
Not far from the harbour was Newman's Cove - endless coastline, sweeping hills and barrens, raging waves of the sea, dramatic sky and all the natural wild beauty that surrounds this place.

All I can wish now is this to be my own backyard.

Gone Fishing

The journey to the edge of Bonavista Peninsula was another highlight of this trip. I am truly grateful to be living in this country where stunning landscape is abundant and history were kept alive. Cape Bonavista was the first landing site for Italian explorer John Cabot who discovered and claimed this part of North America as the New World and I was standing right in the same place. 

Newfoundland and Labrador exceeded all my expectations and the whole experience surpassed all that I hope for.

Where It All Started

This trip was the highlight of my life this year, another amazing adventure had just wrapped up. I am so blessed and thankful for everything that this province offered and I will share this experience to other people. I may have reached all my destinations here in 8 days but the journey to discover more of Newfoundland will continue - more coastlines to reach, roads to travel, towns to experience and more people to meet. 

At the end of this journey, I know I have found my place in the sun.

Nothing But Gratitude

my place in the sun

Rad Canolo

I am a painter, and I love to paint outdoors. I love raw, wild, unspoiled land. Sky full of character. Horizons that call with intrigue and the promise of adventure. Newfoundland was all that. 

I traveled and I painted, from Channel Port-Aux-Basques to L'Anse Aux Meadows, to Twillingate, Bonavista, Witless Bay, St. John's. I painted wildness, beauty, quiet dawns, rough rocks, bright towns. 

I fell in love with Newfoundland, the place, the people, the experience. I look forward to returning! 

A Place of Raw Beauty

Twillingate was one of my favorite places. I drove all over the hills, through town, all around the harbor. This was one of my favorite paintings. 

Twillingate Harbor

Gros Morne drew me in, with its majesty and breadth. It was hard to capture that in a painting, but on a pretty overlook, I made this piece, which begins to tell the story. 

Gros Morne

"The Bird Artist" by Howard Norman is one of my favorite books - so I had to go to Witless Bay and paint. I met another artist while I was there, and that was great fun! 

This pretty church nestled on a slight hillside in Bonavista. The day was gray and windy, but I was able to set up and paint. 

Bonavista Church

Just around the corner from L'Anse Aux Meadows is the small town of Guimet, where houses and rocks both glowed in an afternoon sunset. 

Guimet

I painted on a wild morning in Eddie's Cove. It rained a little, and the wind blew, and I held tight to the canvas and painted quickly. I think one car passed me, the entire time I painted. 

Eddie's Cove

Cape Spear

Painting the Province

Carrie Jacobson

It doesn’t matter that you come from away. When you arrive at Battle Harbour, Labrador, you are treated like a family member returning home. After Harold brought us here by boat, Trina welcomed us in the general store, where we warmed up beside the woodstove, shared a few stories and browsed the colourful handiwork of local knitters and artisans. Wanda showed us to our room, where each window framed a picture-perfect view of white clapboard houses and red ochre-trimmed work sheds.


It’s So Good To See You Again

A hundred years ago Battle Harbour was the fishing capital of Labrador. The scale of the cod fishery is smaller, but we still got to enjoy some locally caught fish prepared by Daphne, Myrtle, and Jeannette, accompanied by fluffy melt-in-your-mouth dinner rolls that would rival those made by my mom. 

Salmon is salmon, but cod is fish

The people that work at Battle Harbour know the stories of the place. Our walking tour of the historic buildings was skillfully narrated by Nelson Smith, who grew up on the island working long days alongside his father, even as a child, preparing cod fish for market.

The rugged beauty of this big land was a natural draw for landscape artist Jean-Claude Roy. He has been coming to Battle Harbour for seven years, rendering colorful, vibrant canvases infused with the passion of the village and people that stay here. “Everywhere you look there is something to paint” he says.

Beautiful light and no straight lines

At the top of the hill we watched icebergs creep slowly towards our island, with some coming close enough to ground themselves on shore. The changing angle of light brought out the translucent blue seams of solid ice sandwiched between the sculpted white curves of the floating works of art.

Welcome Home to Battle Harbour

Janice Lang

My folks, many years ago traveled to Newfoundland for their 50th Wedding Anniversary. They wanted to see Icebergs. They never did see them that trip and mom passed away without ever seeing one. I took dad out this year, 87 years old, the sole purpose of this trip was to scratch that Iceberg off his Bucket list. Well, we got to see many this time around. Looking at dad as he saw his first berg was a very emotional moment as I knew he was thinking of mom and I know she was right there with him. 

No matter where we went, Blue Hour was always beautiful

The colours...sensory overload. A photographers paradise. A part of the country I have fallen in love with. I can't wait to return again

To see the Bergs

Mitchell Brown

The first time I went to Fogo Island it was February and the enormous car and passenger ferry glided and crunched its way down a narrow path in the thick ice. It felt like edge of the world. Fogo is so much bigger than you might imagine, with about 2,200 people spread over 11 communities. Winter revolves around cabin hopping — zipping around on snowmobiles, eating, drinking, talking, laughing, singing, even fishing in one of the frozen ponds. I didn’t catch any trout, but I did catch Fogo Fever.

That First Magical Moment

The second time I went to Fogo Island it was May and I impulsively bought a house. My husband and two of my kids were with me, celebrating Mother’s Day by chasing icebergs and puffins, standing on shore marvelling at the pack ice and eating cod every which way. It was ferociously windy, cold and raining when I stood on the sliver of land that would soon be mine, but in that moment, with the ferocious North Atlantic Ocean out front and one of those rocky shallow ponds out back, I knew I was home.

I’m An Islander

Fogo is an island off an island off the eastern edge of Canada. It’s not easy to get to and that’s a large part of why I love visiting and bringing friends. Fogo forces me to slow down, to talk to my neighbours and to appreciate the small things — like a herd of caribou, a church rummage sale, a particularly fetching quilt or pair of mittens, a new place to eat, a new hiking trail, a spot on the busy ferry, a sunny day. With each visit, I dig a little deeper and fall a little deeper in love.

Spreading The News

Why I Fell For Fogo Island

Jennifer Bain

I invite you to join me as I recount our experiences this past summer.  We hiked The Rock in quest of puffins, icebergs and whales.  Along the way we met some of the world’s friendliest people, ate awesome meals, saw spectacular scenery and became honorary Newfoundlanders at a screech in party.  Newfoundland is a unique treasure, a must to experience.  If you come once, I am certain that you, like me, will want to return.

The Invitation to Experience Newfoundland in Story

Parks Canada Jane introduced us to the Tablelands in Gros Morne National Park.  At first all we saw was the stark beauty of a golden coloured rocky desert.  A short hike revealed a geological marvel and several species of unusual plants, suited to the harsh environment.  The carnivorous pitcher plant was my favourite. 
Later we were treated like Sunday dinner guests dining on roast turkey accompanied by Iceberg beer.  As the sun set on Rocky Harbour we knew we had embarked on a special holiday.

The Tablelands and Rocky Harbour

As the boat left the dock, we gazed upon the photo perfect vista – misty mauve mountains rising high on either side of the narrow steely blue waters.  Although it was early July, we were happy that we had brought our down jackets, rain gear and gloves in our day packs, as it wasn’t long until we were bundling up. Through sun, fog, and wind we stayed up on top of the boat, not wanting to miss a moment.  Back on shore, we enjoyed bowls of thick seafood chowder, the perfect complement to the day.

Western Brook Pond: a 16 km narrow, fjord like lake

It was December 1919 and the weather was foul.  The crew and passengers feared for their lives as the captain gave the order to beach the ship on the shore, rather than risk almost certain death in the storm out at sea.  We were drawn in, holding our collective breath, awaiting the outcome.  And then it was time for dinner, grilled cod served by the crew and passengers. After dessert, the play continued.  No spoiler alert here.

S. S. Ethie Dinner Theatre, Cow Head

I’ve now doubled my lifetime number of moose sightings.  My husband proved to be an excellent moose spotter. It became a contest to see who would see the moose first. 
Another excellent meal of seafood chowder, moose pie and sticky toffee pudding. 
At the National Historic Site, we learned of Indigenous peoples from 6000 to 1000 years ago. The story naturally evolved to the sealing industry and the current overpopulation.  We savoured canned seal meat and heard of the modern more humane hunt.

Port aux Choix

The afternoon hike was one of our most arduous and beautiful. Leaving the historic site, we followed Jeannie, a local B & B owner, and her friend, Sharon at a pace that would rival an Olympic speed walker.  Across the limestone barrens we walked, following the marked path before it transformed into a narrow mossy trail in shady woods, then across a bog and finally along the rocky coastline, before arriving at the lighthouse on the point. And a much needed outhouse.  

Hiking in Port aux Choix

On to the northern tip and tales of Vikings who lived here 1000 years ago.  Once again we were bundled.  Not to worry if you didn’t come prepared. The gift shop sells coats, wool socks, hats and mitts.  We walked amongst the grassy foundations of the long ago settlement built on the coast, hearing of the archeological findings and touring replica peat buildings, with cozy fires.  History came alive when when we learned that Leif the Lucky is believed to have lived in the largest building.

L'anse aux Meadows and Norse Archeological Findings

Later as I marvelled at the scenery of St. Anthony's, my husband joined a few others of our group embarked on the Daredevil Trail, climbing 476 steps to the top for a spectacular view over St. Anthony's and the rocky coastline far below.  What a feat!  Dinner was in the Lighthouse Keeper's Restaurant all the while keeping an eye for ice bergs.  My husband had seafood linguine and I had cod cakes with mustard cauliflower relish.  Homemade rhubarb cake completed our meal.  Absolutely delicious. 

St. Anthony's

This was our day.  Far out in Strait of Belle Isle and along the Labrador coast we saw a huge, ragged iceberg.  At first it looked like the triangular sail of a boat.  Sometimes it pays to pack for many contingencies as the binoculars made the sighting even more exciting.  To see the jagged outline and the deep crevices of the mammoth ice floe was a thrill. And then we saw the tell tale spout of a whale.  I wonder if seeing the sleek black bodies arch and dive ever becomes old.

Whales and Icebergs

Inside is a treasure trove of live insects, the pride of the owner, who passionately entertained us with stories of bees. On the main floor we saw many vibrantly coloured butterflies.  Wings of azure blue, emerald green, yellow and red fluttered around us at a speed that seemed incompatible with their delicate nature.  On the second floor we were fascinated by a bee hive and a colony of leaf cutter ants.  I gave the 3rd floor of spiders a pass.

Deer Lake Insectarium

When I think of Newfoundland I think of fishing villages, boats bobbing in the harbour and nets drying on the rocks in the sunshine. Captain Dave, a 30 year veteran of the cod fishery, fits well into my mental image.  He regaled us with stories of his life and then expertly filleted a cod, removing the tongue, cheeks and ear bones.  Afterward we toured his shoreline museum, a tribute to the history of the cod fishery and generations of men, women and children who made this their way of life.

Twillingate Prime Berth Fishing Heritage Centre

Karen and her daughter provided homemade soups, sandwiches on homemade bread and lemon squares for dessert, homemade of course.  Afterwards once we had dressed up in funny hats and selected our favourite ugly stick, we were ready to party.  Karen played her guitar. She and her daughter led our singing and we joined in by playing our ugly sticks and dancing. Nothing gets the energy flowing and the mood sailing like singing “I’s the by that catches the fish” at a Newfoundland shed party. 

Lunch with Karen at a Newfoundland Shed Party 

The day’s hike was short but took stamina and climbing muscles.  It started at the lighthouse and wound its way down to the ocean from the peak, along a narrow trail through trees and over roots before tracing cliff edges and passing former copper mining equipment.  Only a couple of tricky, scary bits for me but I think you will agree that the impressive coastal vistas, were well worth the effort and time to venture away from the more well travelled tourist beat.

Hiking from the Long Point lighthouse in Twillingate 

There was a must see stop as we passed through Gander: the international airport, where 38 planes and nearly 7000 passengers were grounded, staying nearly a week following 9 11.  It was an emotional visit for us as we stood in front of the World Trade Center Memorial and the commemorative mural reflecting upon the events of that day, suddenly refreshed in our minds.

Gander

While the weather was not what you would choose for a trip to a place called Bonavista, it surprisingly didn’t deter from the joy of the day.  We climbed the steps of the Bonavista Lighthouse that continues to bear tribute to the many generations that lived and worked in it.  As I walked up to it, I saw a high, rocky island just off the coast.  To my delight the island was alive with puffins, sitting on ledges, flying in the sky and diving into the ocean far below.  I was mesmerized.

Dungeon's Dragon and Bonavista

After lunch we tackled the 5.3 km Skerwink Trail, rated as one of the top 35 hikes in the world.  For a lover of the natural environment, this was an exceptional trail.  Our reward for climbing a steep and narrow section through trees was the unmistakeable sound of a whale blow and the smell of partially digested capelin.  Much of the trail requires serious hiking up and down through trees and over rocks.  I finished the hike with a tremendous feeling of accomplishment and soul soaring joy.

Skerwink Trail

After 7 days on The Rock, we were excited to be invited to a Screech In Party to become honorary Newfoundlanders, a very special honour indeed. I have never met people who were justifiably so proud of their land and who no matter where on the island they lived were united in proudly proclaiming themselves as Newfoundlanders. What a steep price you must pay for this honour!  Kissing the cold, smooth lips of a dead cod fish is an experience I plan never to repeat. 

Becoming an Honorary Newfoundlander

The next day we drove through Petty Harbour, a picturesque community, settled by the French and Spanish before John Cabot laid claim to discovering the New World. The fog lifted briefly as we walked down to step upon Canada’s most easterly point of land, Cape Spear, and then to savour the moment in two of Parks Canada’s iconic red wooden chairs.  

Petty Harbour and Cape Spear

This port side city was as beautiful as I had imagined.  It is not only beautiful, but a modern, thriving city proud of its heritage and culture.  The rows of jelly bean houses are a treasure to behold.  Pier 17 the Terry Fox memorial brought back memories of that amazing young man dipping his foot into the water and his continuing legacy.  Up on Signal Hill, we pictured days of long ago when women knit and children played, waiting to catch sight of their husband’s and father’s fishing boats.

St. John's, Provincial Capital, Our Final Destination

As our boat edged out into the harbour everyone was excited.  Crew members entertained us with songs.  We were clapping and stomping along.  And then we hit the swells.  People were clutching the rails.  Before long people were green.  Others were more than green.  Soon we spied the telltale spouts and heard the blow of whales.  Dolphins swam right beside the boat. Thousands of puffins in the air and diving into the water.  A thrill of a lifetime for me. Several people missed the entire show.  

Witless Bay Ecological Reserve, Whales, Puffins

On our final afternoon we happened upon the Newman vaults and winery.  A fascinating story.  In 1679 a Newman ship laden with port from Oporto, Portugal was set upon by French privateers.  It escaped, sailing off course to land in St. John’s.  The barrels of wine were unloaded and stored in vaults over winter.  The next spring the cargo completed the journey to London. The quality of the wine was so improved that all future shipments of port detoured to St. John’s to age.

Newman Vaults and Winery in St. John's

Since returning home I have readily shared my experiences of hiking the rock with friends and family.  I loved seeing the puffins, whales and icebergs. They were highlights for sure.  I still savour the wonderful meals.  It is easy to see why Newfoundlanders celebrate their heritage and their spectacular province.  It is a gem.  I am happy to have shared some time with the incredible people and experienced some of their unique and and fantastic province.  A return trip is a must.

Newfoundland Upon Reflection

Hiking the Rock in Quest of Puffins Icebergs and Whales

Wendy Moss-Newman

Mur and I visited Newfoundland and Labrador a number of years ago and knew we just had to come back!! We decided this vacation would be leisurely with lots of hiking and taking our time to really get to know Western NL, the Northern Peninsula and some of Labrador. I don't know if you call 47 hikes in 21 days relaxing but we loved every minute!!

Story Exchanges

undefined...

In Search of Devil's Bay

Never have I had a town and its inhabitants impact me so heavily and quickly as Francois...

Hayley Gendron

Spirit of the Rock

My husband Vince and I enter Newfoundland with tourist expectations. We leave with the spirit of the Rock inside us....

Cathy Astolfo

WHEN AFRICA AND CANADA MEET NEWFOUNDLAND ...

This is the unlikely story of bringing my husband to Newfoundland. Not once .. but twice...

Wander Woman

Cracked Whales and Newfoundland Tales

“The whales are foolish this year.” So says my friend Andrew, a proud Newfoundlander who knows a thing or two about both whales and foolishness....

Ann Britton Campbell

A Pushthrough Time: Part One by Dawn Neill

We too wanted a wilderness of our own. We wanted adventure. We wanted to live off the grid. Hippies at heart, we rebelled and agreed it was time to break out of the city and move on. ...

Dawn Elizabeth

my place in the sun

I've seen so many sunrises in the past but this one might be the most memorable one...

Rad Canolo

Painting the Province

I am a painter, and I love to paint outdoors. I love raw, wild, unspoiled land. Sky full of character...

Carrie Jacobson

Welcome Home to Battle Harbour

When you arrive at Battle Harbour, Labrador, you are treated like a family member returning home...

Janice Lang

To see the Bergs

... the sole purpose of this trip was to scratch that Iceberg off his Bucket list. Well, we got to see many this time around...

Mitchell Brown

Why I Fell For Fogo Island

Fogo forces me to slow down, to talk to my neighbours and to appreciate the small things...

Jennifer Bain

Hiking the Rock in Quest of Puffins Icebergs and Whales

Along the way we met some of the world’s friendliest people, ate awesome meals, saw spectacular scenery and became honorary Newfoundlanders...

Wendy Moss-Newman

Hiking Newfoundland and Labrador

I don't know if you call 47 hikes in 21 days relaxing but we loved every minute...

Rhonda Drover Beirnes

Our honeymoon road trip

Our first stop was the adorable village of Quidi Vidi where the roads twist and turn...

Malissa Ellen

The French Shore

The L'Anse aux Meadows Viking Tour is an introduction to the Viking era that should not be missed...

Joanne Smith-Camm

Her Name is Sophie Keelan

I touched her arm as she came to the top of the stairs on the boat, aptly named "Safe Passage"...

Gillian Power Marx

undefined...

empty

Want the inside story?