Adventures in Iceberg Alley

Hillgrade:

Okay, so we didn't exactly have an adventure, at least not by dictionary standards, but I thought it was a snappy title.

What does anyone do when they get close to Twillingate? They go see icebergs, that's that. There are so many bergs here now that locals can't remember when they had more at the same time. And that brings the tourists. They tell me that the TCH up to Twillingate the Sunday before last was bumper to bumper.

So we trailed up to Durrell (which is the best place to see the ice) last week, and again this week. Icebergs are living, breathing things, ever changing, every creaking and groaning, rolling and splitting.

Here are some pictures showing the view last week (on the left) and this week (on the right). I didn't exactly line up the lens this week, but you'll forgive me. My intentions were good.

Views of Durrell bergs on July 16 (left) and July 21 (right)

And two more, zoomed in:

The two pics below show a berg which disintegrated before our eyes. Poof! I managed to capture the final cloud of ice. 

Berg before it exploded

What's left of the berg except some splash

Pic below shows a berg-y bit shaped like a whale, or a dolphin, depending on your preference.

Tonight we're going into Twillingate to see the arrival of Captain Bob Bartlett's ship The Bowdoin, as part of Celebrating Bartlett 2009 , a province-wide celebration of 100 years since Bartlett made his first Arctic expedition. I have to say I feel a special kinship, having grown up in Brigus, Bartlett's birthplace, and knowing his family personally. 

So, expect another blog post tomorrow, or as soon as I can get myself organized. It's cold here, so it's a good time for doing stuff like blogging and reading and taking short, very short, walks. Frost predicted for tonight. Good thing I brought my hat and gloves. Odd thing is that I don't resent the weather here, but if it were to be this cold in Ottawa, I'd be furious. (At whom I have no idea!)

On the Rock Again

Hillgrade:

So. Here we are. Back in Newfoundland. Back in Hillgrade. A little (okay, a lot) late getting here this year due to having stuff that just wouldn't go away at home (the other home). But we made it. Drove over 2300 miles in three days, had an overnight boat trip thrown in for good measure, and we finally put our key in the door here on Wednesday afternoon, July 15th.

Aunt Edith's 90th birthday party

Three days later, we were off again, this time to Corner Brook for the celebration of my Aunt Edith's 90th birthday on Sunday. It was difficult deciding whether to beg off due to extreme fatigue (wouldn't have been a word of a lie) or to just suck it up and go, add another 700 km to the total. I called my Aunt Mary where we would be staying and she was looking forward to us coming. I just didn't have the heart to tell her we were too tired to drive all the way out there and back... so we went. I did the driving this time, giving poor John a much needed break.

On the way out, we came upon a car that had just hit a moose. The poor thing was lying at the side of the highway as though he had just lain down for a nap. His legs were in strange positions and I hope the RCMP officer who was at the scene had already put him out of his misery if he hadn't been killed outright. The people in the car were all fine. Milling about and moaning about their fender which was dragging on the ground.

I wish Newfoundland would do what New Brunswick has and erect fences along the highway to keep moose and other large animals from crossing. It would cost some money but lives (human, even) would be saved. That is usually enough to get people moving since saving lives of moose is not on anyone's agenda here. The poor animals are cursed left and right, but you don't hear anyone complaining when they get a bit of moose for their freezer.

As I was saying to John the other day, I don't remember wildlife playing such a large part in Newfoundland life when I was growing up. Moose were there, for sure, but not in the current numbers. [Note: Four moose were introduced into Newfoundland from New Brunswick in 1904. By 1930 the numbers had increased enough to allow a hunting season to happen.] 

I also don't remember any issues about bears. People go camping here now and are just as likely to come upon a bear as see a trout jump in the stream. Come to think of it, probably more likely, since the streams are getting fished out. And squirrels. Never had them growing up as well. Ditto for coyotes. I mean really. Coyotes are desert creatures, aren't they? Or have I just seen too many Wile E Coyote cartoons?

My aunt Edith had a lovely birthday party. Didn't get a chance to take any pictures except one of her. I used the flash which I think startled her and I thought she was going to say something to me about blinding an old lady. She didn't but it threw me enough that I put the camera down and forgot about it until it was too late and everyone had gone home.

Nice to see so many cousins and relatives of all descriptions. My son should come to Nfld with me sometime. He thinks his family consists of just me and him. (Gosh, can you tell I've been talking like a Newfoundlander for a week!) Ha.