Ballyhack Point

The Winter What Wasn't

2010-03-04T18:20:00.000-08:00

Been a mild one this year - very little snow, no real cold snaps. Lots of rain, freezing rain, drizzle, freezing drizzle, fog, freezing fog, flurries, wet flurries with hail and freezing fog or rain, and the odd capful of wind...but nothing that would pass for a good old-fashioned, half-decent winter...

Notice the lack of white stuff - there's only been snow enough in the woods to use the snowshoes twice this winter, and we didn't really need them either time. Haven't even bothered to wax the XC skis...

This is the view from our daughter and son-in-law's deck, taken Boxing Day - really, Boxing Day - not enough snow to make a snowball...

We did have a few dirty days, which was great - got to do at least one short snowshoe run when the wind was driving a few flakes across the Bay...

The one big storm we had dumped about 30 cms., which was enough to make it worth getting the new-to-us snowblower out and running. It ain't no Honda, but it does the job - and just as well it does...

Booah seems to have the best approach to this sort of weather...

when it's fit to be out...

Get dressed and get out...

...And enjoy while it lasts,

'cause there's a time coming when it won't be fit...

To put a dog out....

Look Who Dropped By

2010-02-10T20:07:00.000-08:00

A few seeds, a sharp-eyed friend drinking tea, a Christmas camera with lotsa zoom and a lady who knows how to use it - voila, you've got yourself a very nice pic of a very rare bird.

This Chipping Sparrow isn't supposed to be here in the Gullies. Both The Birds of Canada and Birds of Atlantic Canada show its range no further east on the island than the Codroy Valley area, which is about 900 kms. west of here as the sparrow flies; Birds of Newfoundland doesn't even list it. Thanks to Rod for the initial I.D., and to Tony for confirmation.

(Photo: C. Mousseau)

How Nice Was That???

2009-12-24T13:35:00.000-08:00

We get our mail at an outdoor postal box setup - something new for this area, and not a terribly popular change from the boxes in the Needs store. This afternoon, I stopped to check the mail one last time before Christmas. The postal workers were just sorting the mail and putting it in the boxes. "It'll be 10 minutes or so before we get to yours", the lady told me. So I sat in the car, and waited.

When they'd filled the section of the block ours is in, I checked again; nothing. "Just hoping there'd be a notice in the mail, so I could go to the post office to get a parcel my wife's brother had sent from Ontario", I said to her. "No big deal - it'll be in next week, I guess." And I added, as I started to walk away, "Thanks, and Merry Christmas..."

Back home, Chris and Angelina were decorating the tree, when the dog let loose with a volley of "Come quick, there's people here" barks. Went to the door, and a woman said "I'm looking for a house number - what's this one?" "Number 32", I said. "Then this is yours", she said, handing me a small parcel, just as I recognized the now-out-of-uniform lady from Canada Post. After they'd finished loading the boxes, the package showed, and she and her co-worker had taken the trouble, on their own time, at 5:30p.m. on Christmas Eve, to deliver our Christmas parcel to our door.

Wow - just wow! How good are people, at all - and a Very, Very Merry Christmas to everyone....

How Good Does It Get?

2009-11-09T09:25:00.000-08:00

Anyone who knows me can tell you I have four great loves - my wife, our two daughters, and boats . While paddlecraft are my special affliction, there's always a place in my heart for others - trim and tidy sailboats, and even the big power cruisers like Demissanne.

The past few weeks, I've been helping a friend who's made his living for the past 30 years tending to various craft with haulout at at a local marina. The big boys come ashore via the travel lift, an amazing machine that can trundle a 10 tonner around like I handle my kayak. Grab the pressure washer, blast the slub off the bottom, get her cradled, climb aboard, coil up the lines and power cords at her berth, clean out perishables, tidy up the lines and fenders on deck, winterize the water systems and engines, chase the odd leak - lots and lots to do, all of it good and straightforward and useful.work.

Weather's been fallish - temps in the low single digits, winds 80-100 kms/hr. NE to NW in off the bay most days - brisk and bracing, you might say. (I'm thoroughly enjoying it - dress right (lots of layers, poly and merino, with a good windblocking outer shell) and keep dry, and you'll stay warm as toast. Us North Atlantic kayakers know a thing or two about warm and dry...)

All in all, it's a good... no, make that a great - life - down by the water, with a multitude of boats to keep one amused and learning, and no shortage of 'air conditioning'. The folks around - owners, or others working on the boats - are , as you'd expect, the best kind - boats just naturally seem to attract people who can laugh, joke and help each other. There's worse things a man could be at, like trying to explain to an irate customer that the three-year warranty doesn't apply to the drill he bought last week; having it crushed when he backed his pickup over it isn't really considered a defect in materials...

Here's a final view of the 'office'.

Codroy Valley

2009-10-18T14:42:00.000-07:00

Located on the island's west coast, just a few kilometers from the Port aux Basques ferry, the Codroy Valley is one of the most spectacular and interesting places in Newfoundland.

The river runs between tall hills, wending it's way thru the range of mountains that form, amongst other things, the notorious Wreckhouse section the TCH, where tractor trailers are regularly blown over on their sides by the fierce wind gusts that barrel thru the gaps between the hills.

When we visited in early July, however, the weather cooperated, and our visitors - Michael, Gaetan and Helene - enjoyed civil breezes when they joined Chris and I for a paddle on one of the most beautiful river estuaries Newfoundland has to offer.

The area isn't always so friendly, though. We took advantage of a wait to get a table for an incredible halibut dinner one evening to drive the few miles to Cape Anguille, where a lighthouse overlooks the mouth of the Codroy.

With the wind in off the Gulf, it's a rough looking spot, where we had to lean into the wind to stay on our feet.

Definitely NOT the place a kayaker, or at least this kayaker, wants to be!!!

We're Back, Yet Again

2009-10-16T09:19:00.000-07:00

Procrastination is a wonderful thing.

It's been over a year since I lasted posted to Ballyhack Point, and the longer it is, the harder it seems to get to do it. So here's a first attempt at rejuvenating something that I've enjoyed doing in the past.

The year has been a great one, blessed with lots of family and friends and things to do. The summer was, to put it mildly, a blast, with lashings of visitors and new experiences, especially on the paddling scene. In the next few posts, I'll hit a few of the highlights, but for Chris and I, our first on-water visit to Dildo Run - yes, there is such a place - was surely a "Gotta go there again" sort of thing.

The Run, located in Notre Dame Bay, snakes its way thru islands, runs, reaches, and tickles, offering some of the most protected and diverse paddling waters you'll find around Newfoundland's coastline. You could spend a week exploring all the nooks and crannies, never be more than a few hundred yards offshore, and still not see it all.

Besides a wonderful provincial campground, there are endless places where you can pitch a tent amd enjoy an evening of solitude and beauty, in a place that's quiet and largely undisturbed. Of all the spots where we've wet a paddle, this is the #1 destination that, God willing, we'll be headed there for a much longer visit next summer.

Yo, We're Back!!!

2008-09-07T19:17:00.000-07:00

Just spent the summer in Eastport - that's my excuse for not visiting Ballyhack Point since late June, and I'm sticking to it. Had a phone line that was truly unbelievable in the 21st century and dialup on top of that, since the Community Access Point (CAP) site at the school in Glovertown was closed for summer while the building was being rewired. So a slow connection, lots of dropped sessions, and besides, we were having far too much fun to spend time writing and editing pix...

Did some paddling, a little hiking, a bit of camping, cut the grass, ate really well, polybonded the rusting 4Runner winter beater, read books, got to know a really good mechanic at the local service station, walked the beach with the dogs almost daily, had lots of great visitors - all in all, a fine time was had by all.

We also finished Chris' GLADWIND, which is a somewhat modified VOLKSKAYAK that she's taken to like...well, like a VK to water. Nipped the beam in about 1.5", hacked the same off the forward bulkhead peak, and 2" off the rear bulkhead peak for good measure - the result has a slightly deeper "V" to the hull, and lower decks than the VK Standard. A little less displacement, and a fair bit less windage - was kinda hoping she'd hate it, 'cause I really, really like it - no such luck! Been told, point-blank, that I'm gonna have to build myself one, if that's what I want - the GLADWIND is hers...

Mother and Child

2008-06-25T17:02:00.000-07:00

That grouse wasn't about to move - no sir, no way! Standing at the near end of the boardwalk in Minchin's Cove, it seemed unconcerned as I got a few quick pix from maybe 15 feet, then started slowly moving closer and closer...

Then we saw them - three chicks, each egg-sized, making their separate ways across the boardwalk, one at a time. Momma wasn't budging - no big fuss, just staying right there while the kiddies toddled across. Kinda like a school crossing guard, having an eye to the traffic and stopping anything that might cause harm...

With the last one safely accounted for , she strolls off into the tall foliage herself, still very relaxed about it all. Then she stands there, side on, and has one final look at this creature with the camera...

Small Stuff...

2008-06-24T17:13:00.001-07:00

...can be wonderfully interesting. Lately, we've been taking a look at our world thru the macro setting on our digital cameras - and finding lots of fascinating sights.

Take a common leaf, for example, just after a rain - have a close look at the water drops - besides glistening like little jewels, they act as magnifying lenses and convex mirrors, little distortions you'd not likely see if you weren't looking with the camera's eye...

Sometimes, the right things happen for entirely the wrong reasons. This 'flower', for example, struck me as odd - never seen one like it, I thought, and so snapped a few shots to get it I.D.'d later on. Well, duh - turns out it's a dandelion, but with most of the seed dispersed. There is, however, enough seed left to show just why the plant is such a tenacious species - the brown seed and dispersal 'parachute' show clearly with the camera's detailed eye - another small wonder...

A gull's feather on the beach - not a lot to look at in most folk's books. Closeup, however, there is stuff to see - the shadings white thru grays, the drift of sand along the quill, contrasting with the strong green of the seaweed bladder. Another small visual world, caught and recorded by a close focus lens...

And while it isn't strictly macro work, there's always the whole other world beneath the water, a place most digital cameras fear to go. The Pentax WPi, however, is reputed to be waterproof to a depth at which the state of his/her camera becomes of academic interest only to an air-breathing kayaker. So stick your hand down, aim, and fire - the LCD screen freaks out with the cold, going gray for about 10 seconds...and then the bottom life slowly emerges, just like pix used to do back in the days of developing trays in red-lit darkrooms...

We'll be off to Eastport soon for the summer, and hope to have some really neat pix of some really neat places to post as the summer progresses. May be a bit hit and miss, tho, since we'll be doing the uploads thru the Community Access Point at the region's public library and have to hit it on days when it's open and the weather's not fit for paddling...first things first....

The KatYak - What Can You Say But !!!"WOW!!!"

2008-06-06T18:19:00.000-07:00

There's kayaks, and then there's kayaks. There's VOLKSKAYAKs, and then there's VOLSKAYAKs. And there are certainly spectacular VOLKSKAYAK paint jobs - and there's the KatYak, the Queen of Them All.

As artist Reg Cantwell notes in his explanation of just what happened, a simple question became a commission that became a case of "Go Big Or Go Home", something that seems to have a way of happening when Kristy and Tim Way are around. Tim built the VOLKSKAYAK Standard for Kristy, and Kristy's innocent query to their friend Reg triggered the whole incredible thing. It's led to a perfectly serviceable kayak being turned into a floating art exhibit, and a darn fine one at that...

If you'd like to see more of where obsession can lead, the juicy details can be found at http://www.regcantwell.com/katyak.htm

Finally, Finally, Finally....

2008-05-06T18:41:00.000-07:00

...we got out for the first paddle of the year.

Nothing terribly exciting - just a couple of lazy laps around the little test-tank of a pond just five minutes from the house. When we first moved up this way ten years ago, most of the pondside buildings were modest summer cabins - now it's sprouting impressive homes on nice big hillside lots, with Lawrence Pond Road becoming a 'preferred' address. The pond's really quiet this time of year, with the speedboats and Sea-Doos still in the boathouses or hauled up ashore.

Tucked away in a sheltered spot, there's a small seaplane, one of two that makes the pond their home base during the summer. We often see them flying really low over our place, as they make the final approach for landing...

The treat of the trip was the ducks - lots of 'em all over the pond. Semi-tame and undisturbed by noise this early in the season, they'll let you approach very close indeed, close enough to really see the wondrous shimmering emerald green of their heads, and observe their chicks at close range.

But it's ducky supper time, so the main order of business, nosy humans not withstanding, is to get those feathered kiddies fed and ready for bed...

And finally, for a special little treat on the drive back home, there's the sight of the ocean and the sky awash in colour, as the sun's just after sinking beneath the hills behind Brigus...

Not bad, not bad at all, for a first paddle of the season. Got some work to do, tho, of course - the old abs need tuning up, the arms need work, and a certain someone who shall mercifully remain nameless is going to have to figure out how to somehow levitate out of that cockpit when the paddle's over ;->))

Warming Up Nicely...

2008-04-13T19:54:00.000-07:00

...for Newfoundland in mid-April!

Had some friends out for a visit, and took a nice long ambley-shambley kind of walk along the seashore on the old railway track from Upper Gullies to Seal Cove. Virtually no wind, cool but lovely, with bits of sun poking thru the clouds to spotlight the patches of snow still lingering against the blackness of the rock that forms the islands' coastlines.

Lots of birds - gulls, an eagle, salt water ducks, and loons - saw maybe six or eight diving and feeding in real quiet waters about 50 yards offshore. The ice is finally off the pond behind the Seal Cove beach, but the sea face of the beach is something else again - real steep cobble terraces, all neatly sorted by size as you descend towards the water - round rocks the size of your head at the top edge, grading down to round rocks of exactly the same material no larger than a ping-pong ball near the tideline. Walking's like wading in ball bearings, and you keep sliding slowly sideways down the slope with every step - regaining height is hard work, with the rocks rolling away down the slope with every step you take.

The seas that did that sort of rearrangement of thousands of tonnes of rock don't bear thinking about from a paddler's point of view...

Now We're Cooking With Gas...

2008-04-11T10:33:00.000-07:00

Just got what is, for us, high speed internet... should see Ballyhack Point enjoying more posts, now that the weather's getting fit to be around the water AND we can upload pix without having to have a snack to save off hunger while the upload's running...
What with the bit of sun, a few showers, and warming temps, the old snow's getting a real cutting - a few nice foggy, drizzly Newfoundland spring days now should see the end of it.
"Bring it on", says Ramah, "even us Newfoundland/Husky crosses can't wait to see the back of this winter!"

Give Me A Diesel A-Daisy...

2008-02-27T17:52:00.000-08:00

Why, with a very few exceptions, can't we buy small diesel-powered vehicles in North America?
When I visited St.Pierre, a French possession just off Newfoundland's South coast several years ago, there was a slew of 1.2 -1.5 liter turbo-diesel cars, trucks, vans and what-have-you on the island's roads. Most of Europe manages to get around in this sort of vehicle, as does much of the rest of the world, while burning a lot less fuel.
The modern diesel is nothing like the noisy, sluggish, smelly, rough, high-emission engines of even a decade ago. With gas prices here right now at $1.20 Cdn a liter ($4.50+ a gallon), I'd dearly love to be able to pick up a good, used small diesel-engined van, wagon or small UTE.
As things stand now, only VW has any significant number of diesel cars/wagons available here, and used prices on those are accordingly very high. Both the North Amercian-based and Japanese automakers produce diesel versions of most of their vehicles for sale in Europe; why don't they make them available on this side of the Pond???

It's Been Cold...

2008-01-28T19:03:00.000-08:00

Take a close look at the shot below - small waves slopping between the rocks just a few feet offshore in Conception Bay. Now, look a little closer - about 2/3 the way up, to the right - that grey area?

That's salt water slush, Ma'am, yes, salt water slush...and that's cold!

Been nice, tho...lots of sun and good snow, not the heavy, wet kind, but light, dry sparkley stuff...pretty enough to entice us outside in -15, even with the wind blowing. A late afternoon, the sun hits the snow with this honey-tinged light, while dried grasses throw splintery shadows...

But it's about to get a cutting, if the laddies at Environment Canada's weather office are right - and they amazingly often are, considering the challenges of forecasting anything in the meteorlogical monkey puzzle of the North Atlantic that is Newfoundland's Avalon Peninsula. It's going to get very moist (25mm) and very warm (+9) for the next few days, which should cut the nice base we have back to naught but ice when it cools down later the week. More likely to need salt and sand than snowshoes, skis and poles...

But what the heck - it's only January, after all - lots of time for snow yet, isn't there? In this neck of the woods, winter's a battle between Hope Springs Eternal and The Depths Of Despair where weather fit for outdoor stuff is concerned...we can get buried, or have bare frozen ground, or rain, sleet, and freezing rain, or cold and sunny with a wind that drives the cold thru the heaviest parkas- or else just perfect, cold and sunny and still, the kind of day when you first notice the sun's getting just the faintest hint of direct warmth in it again...

New Shoes, New Views

2008-01-21T20:29:00.000-08:00

The purpose of any conveyance is, of course, to take us places. Be it a jet, a truck, a kayak or anything else equipped with wheels, wings or paddles, it exists solely to let us move thru our world. Thru space, thru the environment, thru new pathways in our minds.

I've always hated snowshoes. Last time I was on 'em, they were the old beavertails; heavy wooden frames with a mesh deck, an awkward width generating an awkward and tiring stride, sloppy bindings and a tail that felt like something dragging behind a dinasour...definitely not my idea of a fun time.

Ain't modern technology wonderful? Tried out a new style snowshoe today - can you say "Amazing...?" All molded plastic, very light, quite narrow, easy-to-adjust and secure bindings, no tail drag - just like walking, in fact, except for the absolute lack of the skidding and slipping you'd face in boots alone. That's thanks to a carnivorous-looking crampon system under each foot...you could almost climb a tree with 'em, or face a bobcat on pretty well equal terms :->))

What really matters, of course, is not the tool, but what it lets you do. The pix below were all taken within 15 minutes of the home we've lived in for the past ten years, but we'd never seen any of these views until yesterday. The trail is a bit twisty and tangled for skis, but a real cakewalk on snowshoes.

The Meadow

Bay View

And Yet Another...

Heading Home Time

Winter Interlude

2008-01-04T20:44:00.000-08:00

It's that time of the year again - the fresh water's gone solid, and the salt is colder than Harper's heart; paddling is definitely on the shelf for the time being. So it's out with the skis, touch up the wax, and off we go.

Absolutely beautiful day, if -12C doesn't bother you, and you don't mind hard crusty snow that whips the wax off your skis faster than a scraper could. Climbing is challenging, but doable, and the very light dusting of fine snowflakes atop the crust glistens like a million diamonds in the sun.

And, of course, there's always lunch - ham sandwiches, some nippy old cheddar, pungent dark fruit cake, and tea hot from the thermos.Who in their right mind would want to be indoors, sitting at a table or in front of a TV, when they could enjoy a snack in this sort of setting?

That's the good news - the bad is that we're getting a mild spell for the rest of this week, and will probably lose the snow we have. Maybe it's time to dig out the drysuits and cold water hoods, find the neo mittens, and liberate the VKs from the snowbank...

December Interim

2007-12-10T08:12:00.000-08:00

Not much joy on any recreational front - no snow for skiing, too windy for paddling, too wet and cold for hiking, too many hours at work to plan much of anything anyway - sort of dead time before the Christmas season strikes. Still, there are good things - everyone's healthy, bro-in-law is coming for Christmas, just started another VOLKSKAYAK with a friend, and have my next one cut out. And the water's still liquid, so if we get a fit day....

Buttoning It Up

2007-11-16T09:57:00.000-08:00

Time to close up the cabin for the year.
.

Put the glass insert in the storm door, drain the water system, set up the heat tape on the water takeoff pipe we use for our very occasional "check-the-place-out" overnight visits thru the winter. Stash the kayaks that don't overwinter outdoors in the basement. Sweep it out, and antifreeze the toilet and the sinks. Fill the tub with "first-flush" water, and lay out the hose from basement to bathroom for additional supplies. Check the doors, windows and heaters one last time.
Head for home, and pray for spring.

Free Heat, Free Heat!!!

2007-11-05T07:04:00.001-08:00

Take 240 empty pop or beer cans, paint 'em black. Build a lexan covered box, put 15 columns of 16 cans each inside. Cut two holes in your living room wall. Screw the unit to your wall. Add a fan on the floor level intake vent in your living room, blow the air it gathers thru the cans, pump it back in thru a vent high in the wall, about 25 degrees centigrade warmer than it originally was. Voila, free heat, whenever the sun shines on the panel.

Yup, just that simple...The Cansolair solar heating panel is the brainchild of Jim Meaney, a Newfoundlander who has pursued the dream of free heat from the sun for close on 20 years now. As I type, our Model RA 240 SOLAR MAX panel is pumping heat into our living room, for the cost of running a small fan. Love to see those three little flaps on the upper vent standing straight out, pouring free, absolutely non-polluting heat into the house.

Check it out at http://www.cansolair.com/

In The Doldrums

2007-10-29T07:29:00.000-07:00

That's how it feels around here right now - becalmed, stationary, not really moving much at all. Since we came back from our last Bonavista Bay excursion, we've been homebodies - between work and weather, we just haven't had the chance to get out on the water or travel far from the house. We did, however, go to Tors Cove on the Southern Shore to hear Nova Scotia bluesman Morgan Davis last week - he played at a small art gallery overlooking the tiny harbour and the bird sanctuary islands - that was keen! About 40 folks there, and he played for close to two hours, wonderful stuff. Sun came out during the second set, pouring thru the large windows into the gallery; "Blues in the sun", Morgan remarks, "How spooky is that???"

Hope to get to Eastport the Nov. 11th weekend to shut the cabin down for the winter - put a couple of kayaks away, drain the water system, set up the heat worm on the water intake pipe and bring back one of the VKs against the opportunity to get out on the water during the coming weeks - a dream, maybe, but dreams are what get you thru the doldrums...

Living The Life...

2007-10-22T09:23:00.000-07:00

...in Upper Gullies.

We're back to two dogs again. Booah has returned from her summer haunts in Upper Amherst Cove, as her Tante Adie has moved house to Elliston and doesn't fancy having to de-fur yet another house before heading back to town for the winter. Booah's apartment is being rewired, so she's bunking in with us and Ramah, her Samoeyd/Newfoundland cross half-brother, until Tante gets back in town around December 1st.

Still, she reckons, there's really no need to not make oneself at home and relax, even if you are a guest - the La-Z-Boy is quite comfortable, the food's not bad and the humans do manage to get the canine contingent out for a walk along the old railroad track along the seashore any day it's fit to be outside.

It may be a dog's life, but hey, someone's got to do it.

One Last Run...

2007-10-15T06:06:00.000-07:00

Took a quick jaunt to Upper Amherst Cove this weekend to visit younger daughter and help her prepare to move out of the wonderful little house she's been renting this past summer. She's going to miss it - the forty people, the friends who've welcomed her and helped her so much, the hypnotising view of the ever-changing sea from the kitchen window.

She's fallen in love with the area, and plans to stay another six weeks or so in another community. It's great to see her have the opportunity of experiencing outport Newfoundland, one of the best places to live left in this sorry old world.

Keels

2007-10-01T06:54:00.000-07:00

Keels is one of those magical places that strikes you immediately as the very heart and soul of Newfoundland's northeast coast. Situated at the extreme end of a rocky peninsula dividing two arms of Bonavista Bay, a corner of the tiny harbour is well sheltered, with reefs and offfshore sunkers blocking the swells and waves.

Fishing boats are hauled up on the slipway and beach, which is a very good thing; it's a sure sign of a healthy inshore fishery, something that's been mournfully lacking in all too many small outports since the '92 groundfish moratorium forced a stop to fishing on the tattered remains of the 2J3KL codstock, once the largest free-swimming stock of protein in the oceans.

Behind them the houses and other buildings lie nestled in nooks and hollows amongst the rocks with no discernable pattern, save for that dictated by the needs of an owner and his neighbors; this place was settled and grown old long before municipal planners were even dreamed of.

The observant eye can see the age of this place - the stacked, flat stone foundations beneath houses, the elaborate fretwork around windows and doors, the steeply sloped rear roofs facing the ocean- it all hints of the fact that Keels has been here since the 1700's.

It can and does, of course, get rough here: outside the harbour's shelter, it's the open North Atlantic, with nothing between you and Europe but light and air and water. Not a place for small paddlecraft in anything but perfect weather and highly skilled hands.

Some folks would look around Keels and see nothing isolation, exposure, the pure bald rocky headland nature of this place. To me, tho, that's Newfoundland, that's what this island and these people are all about.

St. John's, for all its glories, could really be McCity, Pop. 135,000, Anywhere - the same malls, the same buses, the same crowds. Keels is Keels, has been for hundreds of years, and will remain so into the future.

An Excursion Around The Bay

2007-09-28T04:48:00.000-07:00

Saturday morning - up early, load the dog and bags of food and clothes into the Zuk, and hit the Trans-Canada for Clarenville. Coffee at Tim's, then out thru Shoal Harbour, and off down the Bonavista Peninsula, bound for Upper Amherst Cove, population 40, plus younger daughter and her faithful canine companion Kahlua for the past few months.

Located on the north side of the Bonavista peninsula, the tiny community clings to the side of a steep hill overlooking the bay. Below, waves roll across the waters, and mackeral create 'boils' on the surface as they school around just off the rocks. Earlier, whales regularly appeared just below the house, feeding and breaching in the cold waters.

After lunch, we decide to literally take a hike - there's a short walking trail that leads to a lighthouse a few communities away. Two cameras and two dogs are loaded, and we set out for Kings Cove - Knights Cove. Park near the church, and then start out on the short but scenic trail.

The view across the bay is spectacular - deep blue water, dark green hills, explosions of white surf fringing the points, despite the fact that there's virtually no wind. It reminds one that this is indeed Bonavista Bay - exposed to the North Atlantic, and the swells that roll in relentlessly from the open ocean.

Seen from here, Upper Amherst Cove is just a sprinkle of white cubes dotting the hillside, a tiny splash of humanity imposed on the otherwise empty landscape.

A few minutes along the trail, the unmanned lighthouse is perched atop a rocky little cliff, it's riveted curved iron panels unlike anything we've seen before.

As we gaze upward at the light's lens, an osprey soars along high above. When you look down, the breakers along the shoreline show you exactly what hazards the lighthouse signals for night-time mariners.

The trail circles back thru the woods, rejoining the original path just a few hundred meters before the church parking lot. Nice short walk, beautiful scenery, a unique lighthouse, and a lovely view coming back...definitely worth the hour it's taken us.

Then it's back to the Zuk, and off to see one of the most magical places I've ever seen - Keels, Bonavista Bay. Stay tuned for story and photos.

You Never Know Whoo's Watching You

2007-09-14T04:55:00.000-07:00

SATURDAY LAST

Forecast - light winds, going SW 20 gusting 30 in the afternoon. A group of nine boats assembles at Colinet, St. Mary's Bay, launches around 10:45a.m., and proceeds over glass-smooth waters the seven kms. to and thru Pinchgut Tickle. The Tickle lies between the main shore and Pinchgut Island - quite sheltered for its three-kilometer length, and very shallow for the most part. At the far end, the remains of a single house still stand, tho the barn alongside has fallen in.

Along the other side of the Tickle, grassy clearings mark where other families once lived, close to the fishing grounds that sustained all of coastal Newfoundland in those years.We land, and head out to the barachoix beach for lunch and the naming ceremony for a brand spanking new Current Designs FG single, complete with champagne! I manage to miss most of that, since I'd ambled along the beach's steeply-raked seaward tide-line collecting bric-a-brac - heavily coralled mussel shells, bits of driftwood and the like. We head back to the old house, which proves less uninhabited than it seemed.

Sharp eyes spot something perching on the frame of one of the long-gone windows - a bird, a big bird, a great horned owl in fact, in broad daylight! As we gather to view it, it moves to a side window, then back again, watchful but not unduly alarmed. People ooh! and ahh!, cameras click, and the owl just swivels its head to keep an eye on the lot of us, until we've had our fill and grow tired of watching it.

Before we launch to head back, some folks go swimming, a feat that in Newfoundland salt water usually ranks right up there with walking on the stuff. But the Tickle is sheltered and shallow, and its early September, so it's doable and by all reports pleasant. (I, like a true Newfoundlander, risked peeling my drysuit off to waist-level, and letting a warm gentle wind dry my damp thermal undershirt!)

Just as we get rolling again, the promised tailwind wind starts, and quickly settles into a good shove along - about 20-25 kms., just enough to raise a few whitecaps as we scoot back thru the Tickle. Back out in the harbour, the waves are a little bigger, perhaps 18", just enough to get under the stern and promote the occasional short surge forward. By 4:30p.m., we're back ashore, have the boats loaded, and are heading home, our faith on Mother Nature's inherent kindness to paddlers restored.

Sunday - an early a.m. start, this time with two friends in their VOLKSKAYAKs, as my wife had things to do to get ready for the first week of school. Launched at a little slipway in Harbour Main, crossed the harbour, then proceeded seaward over glass-smooth water along one of the most geologically convoluted coastlines I've ever seen.

Sediment layers are jumbled together at all sorts of angles - some straight up and down, some sloped 45 degrees, some folded or fractured, older sediment layers atop newer ones; I wouldn't have wanted to be here when whatever produced this layout was happening! Visiting geologists who get to see this area look like they've entered the Rapture...
Saw birds, too - an osprey who kept skimming back and forth along the cliffs, a kingfisher, gulls, and lots of ducks, one of whom exploded out of the water and took wing right beside my 'yak - hard to tell who got the biggest fright! We went on out about 3 kms., turned the Point, and had a look into Red Rock Cove. Bobbing on a gentle swell, another set of sharp eyes spots a whale feeding off in the distance - too far to ID it, but close enough to see its blow, the dorsal fin and a length of back that makes me glad enough to have lots of searoom.

Back around the Point, land for lunch, then back along the shoreline, pausing to reverse into a little seacave where tiny starfish cling exposed on the rocks just above the waterline, and to eyeball the small cobble beaches we've filed away for future picnic and bonfire excursions. Back to the slip, haul out, load up, and then have my wife join us for an hour's blueberry picking in back of Harbour Main, at the end of road where we lived for 20 years and raised our daughters - then back home, strong coffee while we're cooking up the fresh cod stew for supper, and a fresh-berry blueberry pie with yogourt for dessert. Beats bashing up Bellevue any time.

Where We Live

2007-09-11T10:36:00.000-07:00

Conception Bay South - certainly not the most spectacular chunk of coastal scenery in the province, but we call it home. The community, for the most part, lies on a small coastal plateau, making it look flat and dull from the water when compared to the far more scenic northern shore of the bay you can see in the background. But the panorama seen from the top of Topsail Mountain certainly shows it does have a beauty of its own.

C.B.S., as it's commonly called, runs for about 20 kms. along the shores of Conception Bay. Formerly, there were seven distinct communities - Topsail, Chamberlains, Manuals, Long Pond, Kelligrews, Upper Gullies (that's us!) and Seal Cove - but the provincial government forced amalgamation some years ago, and for the most part, it's worked out well. Most residents enjoy modern services, and the town is now expanding at a pretty fair clip. Since it's close to St. John's, which is booming under the twin influences of offshore oil development and the stagnation of much of rural Newwfoundland due to fisheries failures, most of the demand is for housing development, although plans are now afoot to develop our first "big box store" plaza. And, over the last few years, there's been an explosion of McMansion subdivisions along our shorelines, with huge homes jammed cheek and jowl against each other in a display of architectural excess that only a property developer could love.

Since we're a good few kilometers up the bay from the open ocean, we have another advantage over "Sin Jawns"...weather! When the capital city is wreathed in fog, we're often under sunny skies, and the temperatures are usually 2-5 degrees warmer out here. Warmer temperatures, less crowding, lower taxes, even the cheapest gas on the island - I can live with somewhat bland scenery in exchange for that!

A Few For The Freezer

2007-09-06T05:33:00.000-07:00

Blueberries, that is - nice, ripe, clumps of 'em, just hanging there waiting for you to come along and harvest them. Picking by hand, a couple can harvest about a gallon an hour, which, with a few hours invested, adds up to a lot of muffins and other blueberry treats over the winter.

Besides the long-term benefits, there's also several forms of short-term gratification - some immediate, as in huge handfuls munched fresh from the bush, and the simple pleasure of being out there at all - others are very slightly delayed, like special fresh blueberry pie or crumble we'll usually have for dessert that night. Even Ramah enjoys his day on the barrens - just browse the berries, eat your fill, then lie down in the shade for a little rest...

A Bashing At Bellevue

2007-09-03T18:43:00.000-07:00

Labour Day. Forecast - southwesterly 20 km, gusting to 40. Location - the large sheltered barachoix behind Bellevue Beach. Group - six 'yaks, experience varying from several years to several paddles. Sounds good, huh? NOT!!!

Things went fine for most of the run - pretty civil for the downwind run to the beach, about 2 kms. By the time we got there, it had gotten chippier, so we hauled the 'yaks over the beach and paddled to the barachoix entrance from the ocean side - nice flat water, in the shelter of the beach.

Back inside, the wind was still sweeping down the 3 km. length of the barachoix, creating lumpy but readily manageable conditions. We picked our way along, working from point to point to take advantage of whatever lee we could find. By now, the middle stretch of water was starting to show significant whitecaps as we rested behind the last sheltering point before the final crossing of about 1 km. Not great, but hey, as the pic below shows, definitely doable.

And that's where the real fun - if you call it that - started, and continued for the next hour. As we started the crossing, the wind continued to build, creating first continuous whitecaps, then significant waves in the 2 foot+ range, then breaking waves. The boats ahead started hobby-horsing, and waves regularly threw splash up on deck - 15 minutes later, my VOLKSKAYAK was steadily burying its bow to the forward hatch and beyond , and breaking waves were curling back along the sides of the sharply peaked deck (thank you, designer Gerry Gladwin, for that lovely wave-splitting sharp peak!) and dumping in the sides of my skirt.

I've been paddling this kayak since 2001, and that's the first time I've ever seen solid water on deck or taken waves in the skirt. Once again the old sailors adage - the boat can take more than the man can - rang true. While I know it's really hard to estimate wind speed on the water, I'd reckon we had guts hitting 70 kms or more - there were times when it took a fair bit of strength just to keep your paddle in your hands.

The worst thing was the fact that my wife, in her Cape Horn 15, kept falling back - it's just a shorter, slower boat, and I couldn't stop moving completely for her to catch up without risking getting broadside to those breaking waves and broaching. Conditions got bad enough that even trying to look aft to check her position was dicey; wait for a lull, swivel the head, sweep the eyes, there she is - and then, in a heart-stopping moment, no Cape Horn - glance ahead, deal with the oncoming waves, another lull, another look aft, no Cape Horn - just ready to turn back, and I finally, mercifully, catch a glimpse of her battering her way along slowly off to leeward and well behind. That has to be the longest 30 seconds or so I've ever spent in my entire life!

Finally, after a brutal hour of slugging it out dead to windward, we started to pick up the lee of the shore - the waves dropped, my wife caught up with me, and we were able to paddle the last few hundred meters in a relative calm. A motor boat, God bless him, had shadowed the group across much of the worst stretch, and his presence was enormously comforting.

Safely ashore, and bloody well thankful to be there, we loaded boats and gear and headed home, tired and somewhat humbled. Closer inspection at home showed about a liter of water in my forehatch, and perhaps four liters dumped in the cockpit as those boarding waves leaked down around the rear of my skirt. The Cape Horn had about 2 liters in its aft hatch. We'd come thru far rougher weather than we'd ever encountered before, and it's nice to know we can do that, but you certainly won't see us out looking for that sort of trouble in the future.

The Nearshore Zone

2007-08-31T18:13:00.000-07:00

The ocean is a marvelous place, full of prolific and wonderous life of many kinds. For us, the littoral zone, where the land meets the water, has always held a special fascination. A very high percentage of the creatures and plants that inhabit our waters lives there, and it's mostly shallow enough to be observed closely from a kayak, or even while wading ankle-deep along the shore. Sea urchins, crabs, starfish, jellyfish, razor clams, and seaweeds to numerous to mention - no wonder we spend so much time paddling alongshore!

'Fessing Up Re Pix

2007-08-31T10:40:00.000-07:00

Since I'm new to this blogging bit (like three days!), I don't know the protocol re photos - I've just been using whatever I find on the hard drive that I believe was taken by either myself or my wife. If I inadvertently use something belong to anyone else that's on my HD, my apologies; I'd gladly add a photo credit IF I can figure out how to do that.

Putting In...

2007-08-30T11:16:00.000-07:00

...at St. Chad's, a tiny community on the Eastport Peninsula. Just outside the harbour, there's a string of small islands, absolutely perfect for an afternoon island hopping, as there's always shelter in their lee if the wind pipes up. Steep shingle beaches on the seaward sides, however, attest to the fact the onshore winds could make this a pretty inhospitable place for small vessels.

Boiling Up

2007-08-30T10:18:00.000-07:00

What's the point of a paddle, or even a day berry picking or hiking, without a boilup? Winter, spring, summer or fall, the old piper kettle has a way of sneaking into the gear bag and unto the fire.

The kettle was made by an uncle as a wedding present for my parents, who dearly loved salmon fishing and spent a lot of time in the woods, in the late 1930's. Solid copper, it's been silver- soldered around the spout a few times over the years, but is still amazingly otherwise leak free. Definitely one of our family treasures, and still the quickest boiling kettke I've ever seen.

Long Weekend's Coming...

2007-08-30T08:15:00.000-07:00

...and so are the winds.

If the early-bird weather lads have it right, there's gonna be wind - gusts to 83 kms. Saturday, and still strongish Sunday. Just in case it's been awhile since your last blast, here's a shot taken on a breezy day in Burnside. Too much like work for me...

The Best of Buddies

2007-08-30T05:02:00.000-07:00

Of the things I love about paddling, here's one the best - the sight of my wife's Cape Horn nestling with my VOLKSKAYAK atop the Sidekick. After over thirty years of being married and paddling together, it's really odd to see one of us on the water without the other. By now we both pretty well know what level of risk (there's always some!) each of us finds comfortable and how the other will react in given situations. We even agree on lunches - large and frequent, with nice warm tea to wash it down. Lucky me.

Sailor's Island

2007-08-29T18:43:00.001-07:00

Located near Salvage, Bonavista Bay, Sailors Island is just a short paddle from the launch site at Wild Cove Park. There's an excellent small harbour with a good landing beach at the far end of the island. A short walk around will soon show signs of earlier days when the island was inhabited - rocks walls formed as people broke new land, and tress that aren't native to Newfoundland's wilderness. Today, however, only a few fuzzy and curious friends remain.

Tickles, Islands, Sounds and Runs

2007-08-29T09:09:00.001-07:00

That's our Newfoundland coastline - nooks and crannies galore, a folded and convoluted interface between land and sea. Harsh, yes, in some ways - but very, very beautiful, in a way that binds some of us to it so strongly that living anywhere else seems unimagineable. Kayaks, of course, are the perfect vehicle for exploring these alongshore waters, as this scene just out St. Chad's on the Eastport Peninsula shows.

Rigged For Wreckhouse

2007-08-29T08:48:00.000-07:00

Wreckhouse, located on the island's west coast near the Codroy Valley, is notorious for the very strong winds created as they are funneled between two mountain ranges. In days past, the railway had an employee and his family living in a house in the pass whose job it was to warn trains when the winds were too strong to go thru; his wife continued in this role after his death.

While the trains are gone, the winds remain; today, flashing lights on the Trans Canada Highway alert tractor trailers that they're likely to be blown off the road when the wind's up. Even on a 'civil' day, kayakers are well advised to make sure everything is well lashed down as they go thru Wreckhouse.