My three week solo adventure started and ended in St.John's but it was the 4,000 kilometres in between that took my breath away! Newfoundland is a wild and wondrous part of the world that shouldn't be missed. 

Three weeks and 4000 kilometres 

Long stretches of highway curling along the coast line, Viking history narrated by passionate Parks Canada staff, vigilance for moose at dusk, woodland caribou clustered around the red lighthouse at Port Aux Choix, and the ever present turbulent ocean swells were special highlights of northern Newfoundland.

Gros Morne national park was spectacular and four days was not enough for this remarkable part of the province! Hiking Green Gardens, the Tablelands, and Gros Morne mountain, scanning for the footprints of creatures large and small. Spotted a black bear and moose prints! Stunning fjords on the boat ride through western brook pond with layers of golden grass and blue sky on the short walk in to the dock.

Fogo Island saltbox houses, salted cod drying on overturned lobster traps, colorful tilting homes perched on cliffs overlooking the ocean, friendly locals, searching for the Fogo Island Inn artist residencies like a scavenger hunt, traipsing along ocean trails walked for hundreds of years. 

Sunsets and foggy cliffs, homes with doors leading nowhere, cheesecake on every cafe menu, locals picking Patridge berries, tidy lawns and picket fences, beautiful silence and fresh air.

Hiking across grassy cliffs, ecological reserves teeming with circling white birds, pounding surf, lonely whistling buoys tilting in the waves, a sense of immense landscape with space to breathe and move and think and feel.

Newfoundland is an invitation for adventure, stunning landscapes, history and culture, hardy locals, and silence. Sweet, sweet silence with only the sun on your face and the limitless blue Atlantic horizon.

Wild and Wondrous Newfoundland

Thea Bracewell

 A lone puffin sits on a rock at the Puffin viewing site at Elliston, Newfoundland in May 2023.  Her beak is filled with nesting materials as she waits for her mate to come in from the sea.  He arrives, they have a happy little discussion, and he flies off, perhaps to work in some far away place, lol.  But then he comes back and they have a little cuddle before leaving to build their nest.

A puffin love story

Puffins are very social and gather in groups.  

In this photo, I imagine that the couple in the bottom centre have found each other, the couple at the top are courting, and the 5th is still looking for its love.



Puffin love to Gather!

This photo looks like a business meeting, where the boss is pontificating, and the others are either listening intently or dreaming about fish!

A meeting of puffins

Two puffins chatting at once!  Check out the tongues!

Chatty tongues!

Puffins in Flight

I took this on a very sunny day, and the puffins were on the edge of a cliff at the cove, so the sparkles in the water created a beautiful background bokeh.

With flowers on a very sunny day

Sun in Newfoundland?  This was in July 2023 and we had two weeks of lovely sunshine!  I am SO happy that my daughter chose to live in Bonavista!

More puffins in the sunshine

More puffins in flight (2023)

Will you be mine?  

"yes! of course I will!"

their expressive eyes, clown-coloured beaks and exactly dilineated black and white feathers - so charming!

headshots!

A dramatic black cliff background - and this sweet puffin has grass in its mouth :-)

Drama

bright green grass in the foreground and the sea far below

mmm grass!

I want the last word!!!

No I want the last word!

***The End***  

I'll make another book next year when I go back!  

And no, it's mine!  The end.

The sweet puffins of Bonavista, Newfoundland

Sandy Nelson

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

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”. We were off to Silluak, or North Arm considered one of the jewels of Torngat Mountains National Park. Sylvia, the throat singer, was standing at the top of the stairs blocking the way as she maneuvered to her seat. Sophie was stepping up behind her. I wanted to guide Sophie past so she was safe. I held her arm as she nimbly stepped through– as if she needed my help at all.

“Good morning Nancy. No wait!!!! I got your name wrong.” I was a little embarrassed because I knew when I met her she was the real jewel on this trip. She wore her wisdom like a sunbeam. She turned to me. Face to face. She said “Good morning.” with a smile that brought the burst of sunshine of a breaking dawn. I said, “I’m sorry”, as I held her two elbows, “I got your name wrong.” And as naturally as the waves rocked our boat, she leaned in and hugged me.

I didn’t expect it but I melted into that hug. It felt like the hug of a thousand mothers of a thousand years. “I’m Sophie.” she said. ”Hello Sophie.” I replied, feeling like I had a million other things to say. She smiled at me and my hands went to my heart. She was already in there. I didn’t know how much I would love the people I met in Torngat Mountains National Park. It was the beginning of a love story.

The Inuit Culture guides all experiences in the Park. There is a reverence for the land –a love that goes beyond words and into a rhythm that beats with your own sinus rhythm. Humility is the lesson with every step as we walked in single file. Boonie was one of our Bear Guards. We took a moment before heading out to listen to her instructions. I waited to hear about the parameters set for leaving Base Camp and instead she introduced us to her ancestors from millennia before us. 

“We are about to tread in the footsteps of my ancestors.” She said. “All their wisdom is here in every step. When we walk on the land, we take all of our emotions – frustration, anxiety, happiness and sadness – and we leave it here. The land will absorb it and will give you back what you really need; it holds the wisdom of all our ancestors.” It was the ultimate lesson in self-love. 

Armed with these lessons, I could only imagine getting from an ashram, I absorbed the beauty of the ancient mountains that surrounded us. I was brought to tears at the sight of the majestic Polar bear that was watching us as much as we were him. I was cradled by the lilt of the throat singing which seemed to come from far beyond the ladies who rocked each other there next to the mass grave on Rose Island. The spirits of Hebron filled my heart with a pride of place I had never known.

I am changed forever and grateful for the experience. It is the most magical and spiritual place I have ever had the privilege of visiting. Special thanks to photographer David Howells for his portrait of Sophie and the Polar Bear in black and white.

Her Name is Sophie Keelan

Gillian Power Marx

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! 

Witless Bay

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

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

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

The L'Anse aux Meadows Viking Tour is an introduction to the Viking era that should not be missed. St. Anthony's has a wonderful boardwalk trail, as part of the Iceberg Alley Trail, meandering along an impressive coastline. One might be lucky enough to see an iceberg or  a whale or two. There is also a lovely lighthouse, gift shop and museum, and restaurant.

Leaving The viking Coast

We were heading to Woody Point in Gros Morne National Park but instead decided to take a detour to Conche, part of the French Shore. 

 The idea of learning a little about an area we knew nothing of, and to appreciate the splendid tapestry we read about, was exciting.  


The Detour



As we rounded the corner coming into the village, the scenery was like much of Newfoundland, stunning!

Wild daises, and blue lupines danced in the breeze capturing a sense of freedom known only to nature.


The French Shore



The coastal village was peaceful, and pretty inviting passersby to lose themselves for a little while.


The green clapboard building was our real beginning as it was the French Shore Interpretation Centre, and it was open.

Upon entering we paid a nominal fee of $8.00 per adult, or $5.00 per senior.

Upstairs we were greeted with a self guided learning experience. Pictures, artifacts, and documentation of the first settlers. 


The history details the fishing treaty between the French, and the British fishing rights, and the tensions brought about within its wake.

This museum is a former Grenfell Nursing Station, the  location that provided various medical assistance, whether physical, dental or veterinarian. 

A wealth of history told within this centre.

The next room housed a most incredible work of art that has been embroidered by fourteen local women.  

The outline was created by an artist of both French, and Canadian citizenships; Jean Claude Roy. 

This historical story unfolds on a 66 meter, or 216 foot length of linen, and wool threads.



This remarkable project can only be photographed from the doorway as cameras, and flashes, are not allowed in the room.

This hand made tapestry has exquisite colour, balance, and even texture. An amazing work of art!



The village is small with a fish plant, and a convenience store.

There is no gas station but a lovely coastline. 




There is also a well maintained Parish with winsome lupines decorating the grounds.




A visit to Conche, part of the French Shore, is well worth the side trip, and a chance to witness a magnificent work of embroidered art.,


Joanne Smith-Camm

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.

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