tease me, please me

[photos: © Alison Dyer 2009]

a tease of photos from a south coast trip this summer
I’ll get there, I’ll write about it, maybe, yes, definitely,
sometime, soon, any time now. you know. I want too.
some amazing trip.

Trinity Bay

(photos by Michael Bradley, 2007)

As temperatures fall far below zero, and clunky Sorels replace booties, I'm remembering some paddles from this past summer. One was with fellow kayak blogger Michael Bradley who took these photos of our day trip in Trinity Bay. This is an exciting bay to paddle. At the head are places like Chance Cove, Chapel Arm and Spread Eagle - sheltered, for the most part, but their stacks and caves testify to an often active sea.

A little further out are resettled communities - only accessible by boat - such Deer Harbour and Ireland's Eye (site of biggest drug bust in eastern Canada of the 70s, or something like that) and Pope's Harbour where this year a church was built - four decades after the community was abandoned.

Further out still, past a great poker hand (as in Hearts Delight, Hearts Desire, and Hearts Content) is the exposed coast chez moi with its sheer cliffs, shoals and great vistas. Many miles on the other side of the bay are places like Trinity, a historic community with many restored homes and the filming location for the 2001 film The Shipping News and the 2002 television miniseries Random Passage.

Operatic paddle for November

[Photo credits: Neil Burgess]

Overture:

The sky gathered blue behind us, like a bride trailing her veil.

Act One:

We begin at Little Harbour East, at the head of Placentia Bay, after a car shuttle to Fairhaven where we'd end the paddle, about 22km to the south. Readying the boats for launch, we chat with a few older locals. One fellow talks about his grandfather, Robert Hann who, around 1900, ran a lobster cannery in Little Pinchgut Cove.

By the crack of noon we slice into the water, paddling out the harbour to face the march of cliffs along Long Island and Merasheen. Far out in the bay courses a fishing boat, haloed with seagulls like fleas around an old dog.


Some miles out, near Long Island and Merasheen, an oil tanker sails fast.

Intermission

[Scudded with over 300 islands,160km long by 130km wide, where fog plays a leading role two days out of three, Placentia Bay is renown for its fishing grounds and bird sanctuaries. It's also one of the busiest oil handling ports in Canada. Tanker traffic is fairly intense. And it's about to get a lot more tense. The Bay may now host a second oil refinery as well as a LNG terminal. Traffic congestion and lack of emergency preparedness could well spell disaster for this naturally and culturally distinct area.]

Act Two

A pair of loons rehearse an aria. A pair of moose on a ridge stand guard. We paddle around Pumbly Cove and Great Pinchgut and enter Little Pinchgut for lunch. A view as wide as imagination. And, sadly, a beach choking on plastic.

Intermission

[Salt meat buckets, oil containers, fishing nets, shoes, pop bottles. A commonly held perception is that our beaches and coastal environment is 'pristine' and 'untouched'. Sadly, that's a myth. Many beaches, particularly on the south coast of Newfoundland, are eyesores and some are hazardous to marine wildlife. Where on earth does all this garbage come from? Certainly a number of sources but the short answer is - us. ]

Act Three

Paddling into an operatic light. Crepuscular rays from a silver sun spotlight the salt water and yellow-dressed larches, cast promise across the knobbly hills. A sea in repose. And cradling rocks, a many tendrilled kelp rises and sinks beneath the ocean's breath, a benign monster.

Act Four

Rounding the last headland, we're off the water by 5pm as dusk starts eating around us.

Chance Cove - all days are sundays

(Photos of Chance Cove, TB courtesy of Graham Openshaw)

In a 2003 trip report about paddling Chance Cove to Rantem Harbour - a short but enlightening trip - I wrote that the paddle, like all fine things in life (tasting good chocolate, listening to bullfrogs, reading Barbara Kingsolver), should be enjoyed slowly, reverentially. And so when a late October chance to paddle the Chance arose, I grabbed it - and my 12-year-old enthusiastic daughter - along with several other members of our ever-expanding kayaking club.

October around the Chance offers a different view. Fewer eagles and the noisy terns and flashy guillimots were noticeably absent. Instead, the bright yellow and muted orange of larch, birch and dogberry softened the edges of Rantem Harbour. And anyway, rocks, caves, stacks, passageways have a tendency to stay put. Just one day past a full moon meant we were treated to a greater tidal range.

Daughter Ella was intrigued by the intertidal flora and fauna exposed by a low low tide and kept steering our borrowed double in close. Encouragement by another paddler had us both squeezing through passageways and rock hopping in places that I would not have thought a double could possibly manage. And while a double is far from my preferred mode of paddling, I was surprised at the agility we attained. Smiles from offspring #1 were well worth it.

Ode to a Bog

(photo: Pinchgut Tickle, St. Mary's Bay, NL)

Haven't written it yet. Waiting for that autumnal light to return. The one that prickles every part of your skin. That makes you see, really see the colours, shape and texture of the smallest hair on the tip of a rosehip. The one that has you breathing deeply on hikes in the woods, not because you're out of breath, but because the blasty boughs and sodden leaves are playing sweet duets. That makes the smokey flavour of a partridgeberry, curled on the back of the tongue, quite possibly the best wine you've tasted. The one that has you ready to read the next chapter.

Return to Bell Island

(Photos: Alison catching a wave; Paddling near Little Bell; catching another wave; Portugal Cove morning - photos by Stan MacKenzie; Bell Island stratigraphy - photo by Alison Dyer)

It had been four years since I paddled around Bell Island, Conception Bay, (approximately 26km) with a group of paddling friends. Another trip was organized this past saturday by Joe Carroll who miraculously got the weather perfect. Sunny, warm (in mid 20s) and slight breeze (forecast 20km southerly). We left Portugal Cove (above) on the 8:20am ferry and were on the water less than an hour later. It was a far less rambuctious ride around the northern head than last time (steep northerly swells). But enough swell that we didn't risk going through a cave and sufficient for some fun surfing on the western side.

As the last photo (take in 2003) shows, Bell Island is distinct from the mainland, consisting of horizontal beds of Ordovician sandstone and shale. Iron ore mining was huge on the island in the early to mid part of the 20th century, in fact, the Wabana mines was one of the largest producers of iron ore in northeastern North America. The mines - now closed but open during the tourism season for tours - extend far beneath the seabed of Conception Bay, apparently creating one of the most extensive submarine iron mines in the world.

Many thanks to Stan MacKenzie for taking these photos on the water (and without a waterproof camera!).

For some superb photos of the Bell Island trip, check out kayak the rock, and check out Stan's blog.

Dungeons & Cellars, Bonavista Peninsula

September 7. 2007

A road trip this summer took me first to the Bonavista Peninsula. I was interested in revisiting Elliston to check out its root cellars for part of a project I'm working on. No sooner had I driven down the alder-shouldered road off the highway than I saw a house with a cellar. Walking up for a photograph, a man popped his head out of the window of his house and encouraged me to enter the cellar, take photographs and generally have a look around. I had a great chat and interview with Bert Crewe the following day as well as meeting Rex and Edith Chaulk of the neighbouring community of Maberly.

Connecting the two communities is Sandy Cove, a beautiful stretch of fine sand and behind a small, clean and quiet municipal campsite. With my work finished on the second day around 5pm I launched for a paddle, along the coast past Elliston then back across and out to the puffin colony causing a gigantic flock of them to take flight. They nest on a rock mere feet from the headland, one of the most accessible places to view these adorable flyers.

Close by is a provincial park I also had to check out: Dungeon Provincial Park is a slice or so of cliff, a collapsed sea cave, sandwiched between community pastures leading to Cape Bonavista. In the photograph above is Spillars Cove, an attractive looking stretch of coastline for adventuresome kayakers. Which means I have to return with a few paddling buddies.

bloggers meet and paddle

september 5, 2007

Michael Bradley turned up in Newfoundland this summer. He located me in Trinity Bay feeding hens and hiding from civilization in general. Stayed for supper (unfortunately I hadn't got out jigging until later so cod wasn't on the menu), pitched the tent and we planned a day paddle for the following one which turned out pretty decent in terms of weather. I was able to show him some of the headlands and arches around my neck of the woods. Michael - I'm glad you got some paddling in around the Rock this summer even though trips did not all go as planned.

An immense little paddle

aug. 2007

managed late afternoon paddle in Trinity Bay from our cove. Calm waters encouraged me to solo paddle an otherwise forbidding coastline with no takeouts for several miles. Past Hants Head and headed south (well, actually west). Not a boat on the bay - that felt eery, given it'd take me a good 5 hours to paddle to the other side. Lots of long-tendrilled jellyfish. Stark cliffs, brutal headlands (given the right - or wrong - conditions) and then I found Green Cove - local name. It's barely a cove - not a boulder to take out in, but it has the most impressive arch, a solid mass scratched with quartz. Even then - in a quiet sea, the swell slapped up a good foot & a half on the cliff. I managed to edge around the arch to see whether I could pass through - but not unless my kayak came in around 5 feet - there was a tight right angle to pass through. Still, a magnificent sight. Still further, another section of the cliff I'd not explored before (I'd been paddling further out to avoid clapotis), sheer rock for a few hundred feet - heard the unmistakeable sound of water - fresh water - falling. A crevice, barely one foot wide and the entire length of the cliff face smudged in oozing lime green and tinkling loudly. Then paddled to yet another head... there are a few along this stretch - gulls, terns and guillomots crying desparately - of course it sounds that way when their voices echo off cliffs.

Just an hour or so - my underwater camera on the blink so no photos this time.

Mother & Daughter paddle on father's day - of course!

june 27, 2007

If I don't post them now, they'll never get on. (Apologies--I can't figure out how to turn the two middle images right side up.) Life is very busy. Yes. So Ella and I borrowed a friend's double (thanks Peter & Barb) and joined the KNL club beginner's 14km paddle two sundays ago in Cape Broyle, a popular long bay with lots of take outs, some waterfalls, super caves, arches and stacks. I hadn't paddled there for ages and forgot just how spectacular it is. We saw a couple of eagles, a seal near our nice wide beach at lunchtime and a minki out far but Ella missed it. I think she enjoyed herself. After a post-paddle milkshake, she quickly fell off to sleep in the car on the way home.