100 Day Challenge Update

If I get out on the lake tomorrow as I intend, I'll have gone paddling for 23 days in a row (I've missed only one day due to a scheduling difficulty) on Lake Massawippi. Interesting as it has been, I'm beginning to weary of the scenery just a tiny bit. So I will take myself on the road and begin exploring some of the local lakes this week. I've been on a few of them, but not all. Once the nearby ones are done, I might pack my camping gear, travel further afield and spend a few days exploring. Who knows, it might even be fun!

Today's picture is interesting. I took one almost from the same spot a few days ago, but this one looks colder, a steel grey lake with frost a promise in the night. I am slowly adding warmer and warmer clothing each time I head out. No dry-suit yet, but I can see it on the horizon. In a week or so I'll be in my Reed gear no doubt and have switched to my cold weather pfd. Aaaah, seasons!

22/100

Are You Responsible?

Life is a web of relationships, some strong, some weak, some good, some bad, some we cherish, some we'd love to forget, but they're there whether we like it or not. As Tennyson's poem "Ulysses" in the sidebar so profoundly says, (We are) a part of all that (we) have met.

Last week my cousin had a motorcycle accident, crashing into a car that suddenly pulled out in front of him. He was lucky. A broken leg and some 'road-rash' will keep him in the hospital for a few more days, but the web of relationships that surround him has quickly become apparent. He's a dentist, with patients, and an office staff. He's a father of three children scattered across the country and a husband. He has numerous friends. Slowly arrangements are being made for other people to take over his responsibilities and life (and work) will continue, but an accident like this brings the web into focus like nothing else. Suddenly one realises how connected we are to the web of others I mentioned above. Suddenly all sorts of people find they need to adjust to our accident, often in unforseen ways.

Next time I head out to challenge the wind and the waves, perhaps I'd be wise to think of the web of responsibilities I trail in my wake...

20/100

Spreading Cat's Paws

When I went out paddling today, the wind was up and the lake looked cold as the grey water felt the churning it was getting. Cat's paws spread out in every direction and white caps burst out ahead of them. I decided to wear long pants instead of my shorts and I put on a wind jacket over my long sleeved T-shirt. Fall is in the air.

A few weeks ago I put back the 1 cm thick foam mat I usually have under my feet in the kayak's cockpit. I first started doing that when I paddled in the arctic, thinking the cold water would chill my feet. Since then I've done it to protect the hull from my paddling shoes and when not wearing shoes, to give my heels something more comfortable to rest on. Slowly, I'm switching over to my fall and winter paddling gear. That's okay. I love the changing seasons and wouldn't give any of them up!

As I write this today, I notice that the 'Cities' counter lists 50 places. I don't recall it ever registering that many before, so thanks for dropping by!

19/100

Sights and Smells

Today I paddled southward along the western shore to check out another beaver lodge. I had been alerted about its existance by a reader who emailed me the other day. Sure enough, there are two lodges along that shore about a kilometer apart. This one has two entrances which can be clearly seen, one much deeper than the other which enables the beavers to exit under the winter ice.

The day was overcast, but calm. I had the lake mostly to myself. Passing a local hotel, I was struck by yummy smells coming from their kitchen, one with a 5 star rating. Like the famous story about the hobo in Paris, I feasted my fill before moving along.

In the middle of the lake I came across this sugar maple leaf, having already changed its colours... Am I ready for what's coming?

I'll be keeping tabs on my 100-days-of-paddling challenge by showing the days paddled/100. To date, I've not missed a day since I started, but November ought to change that nonsense...!

18/100

Drinking Habits

A recent comment on Seakayak Photo, the wonderful Scottish blog written by Douglas Wilcox, chided him for writing about visiting seashore pubs for an occasional ale. Of course, we shouldn't be drinking and paddling at the same time, but sometimes it's just too easy. For example, look at these photos. Seeing something odd out on the lake yesterday, I went to check what it was bobbing up and down. Wow, it was a nice cold one, opened, about half full and ready to drink!


First thing I discovered was how ill suited my foredeck was as a place to drink. Each wavelet conspired to pitch the brew into the water diluting the precious contents. I did get some exercise however, each time I recovered the bottle...


Finally, like most enjoyable things, I arrived at the last drop. I must say not having to even get out of the kayak for a brew got me thinking here in Canada we've managed to go one better than the Scots and their shore pubs.


Am I ready to drink and paddle given how easy it's become? No! And, hopefully, not you either!

Oh Yeah?

Lots of people around Lake Massawippi put out various devices to discourage the seagulls from using their docks and rafts as personal toileting facilities. One of these devices is a plastic owl. While the seagulls tend to be wary of these plastic birds, this kingfisher had no problem at all using the perch to improve its view of the waterfront! "Owls right if I can sees the fish" he must have thought!

Going Electic

With so many Anas Acuta boats for sale these days, it make one wonder what else is for sale. How about this little electric run-about? I'd add one of those flexible electric panels to the roof material and head out on a world tour.

So if I don't get it first, Claire or Derrick, who's going to outbid me on this beauty?

Newfoundland's South Coast

The south coast of Newfoundland is a dramatic and wild place to paddle a kayak. It is no wonder many paddlers dream of giving it a try. A few brave ones actually launch, often from near the site of this photo and video in Rose Blanche, and head eastwards out into the fog.


Rose Blanche is the end of the road which departs from Port aux Basques. From here on there are few communities and only a single road reaching the coast until one reaches the eastern part of the island. The video was taken from the lighthouse seen in the photo. It has an interesting origin. Apparently Robert Louis Stevenson's father was in the lighhouse business and got the commission for designing this one in 1871. Its light lit the entrance to Rose Blanche for 70 years. While it deteriorated afterwards, it has now been restored. There's a nearby B&B one can stay at to get a feel for the isolated life the early light keepers experienced.

The day I was there was rainy, windy and foggy. I had hoped to paddle eastwards for a day or so to try my mettle, but decided it wasn't a good day to die. There would be better opportunities!

Note: I used Bloggers own video upload today for the first time, avoiding the intermediate step of posting to YouTube. The video was taken with a Pentax WR 40 and converted to DivX format before uploading.

I Wonder...

Now that I have manage to reduce my carbon imprint while afloat, I still need to look at land trasportation costs. An outfit in Germany called Cab-Bike is producing an interesting human powered alternative to cars. I like the idea of it being weather-proof and having some cargo carrying capacity. Obviously it's not going to work here year-round, but I can see it being suitable for the little errand runs we all make frequently. For example, I could take it the 12 kms over to the boathouse for my daily paddle outing. For old gimpers like me, they will even add on an electric assist for the hills. I can see attaching the batteries to a solar panel for re-charging.

Currently it's priced around $10,000 here in Canada, but I suspect it could be had directly from Germany a bit cheaper, especially if one traveled over to pick it up.

Teach Me, Teach You

During the past week or so, I have enjoyed reading Silb's Blog as he described the Greenland Qajaq Camp he attended two weekends ago. His experience sounds much like the one I had at the similar event called the Delmarva Qajaq Retreat held each October. Both are characterized by the philosophy that 'We are all teachers as well as learners'. As such, no matter what you think, you can both learn from others and have something to teach to others. I like that idea a lot. It's just one more reason I like to paddle with a Greenlandic paddle. Each stroke is done knowing someone taught it to me and I can teach it to someone else. A good feeling. Thanks for sharing with us, Dick!

I like the feeling of paddling in summer gear: no drysuit, no full spray-skirt, short sleeves, mesh-sided pfd, but always my Greenland paddle. That's year 'round gear for me!

That One of Yours, Grey Owl?

I paddled at dusk yesterday. The tree-lined shores were dark and mysterious as were the waters beneath the over-hanging branches. I knew the area well, but still, I had to be careful. There were snags lurking, waiting to push my boat suddenly aside and possibly tip me over.

Suddenly, just to my right, a loud slapping sound, rustling water and then quiet ripples circled outwards lapping my hull. A beaver! On my return, another SLAP! The beaver's still around and watching for me.


A beaver? This morning I paddled the same route in bright sunshine. Yes, I'd known there was an old beaver lodge stuck underneath an old cabin that has to remind one of Grey Owl and his pets. If you look carefully, you can see part of the cabin just above and to the right of the pile of sticks marking the beaver lodge. I never thought there were still beavers living in this lodge. Well, I guess there are. At dusk, at least!

Ten days, 10 paddles of at least an hour in length and often more. Today I paddled in wet, clammy clothes. You'd think I was on an expedition the way I felt as I pulled them on! In fact, it was my forgetfulness, leaving them in the car overnight and not bringing fresh, dry stuff. I never thought of this challenge as an expedition, but hey, why not! LOL

Birds as Bloggers

While paddling today I got thinking about this blog. What got me on this topic was seeing a loon, the first I'd seen since last Spring. A few days ago I saw a couple of cormorants which are not usual visitors to my lake. Such different birds and they raise very different emotions in me when I see them. One I like, the other makes me shake my head.


Cormorants seem like birds with no shame. They don't mind exposing themselves to one and all, freely hanging out their laundry for us all to see. Some days I wonder if my blog is a bit like that. I hope not. I don't really care for that 'me, me, look at me' kind of blog. Hopefully I have better things to blog about.


Now loons, they seem to say, 'oh, look!', then quickly and mysteriously they're gone, off to something else interesting and fun. Hopefully this blog is a bit loon-like. Not 'me, me, me', but lots of 'look at this interesting place or thing I've discovered', then quietly moving on. That's a much more interesting blog, the kind I like to read.

Timing

Lake Massawippi just waking up.
I love sleeping in, but today - Day 7 - I was up early and on the water long before I usually am. Yup, that's 7 for 7 so far; right on track. I probably scared the natives as they saw me paddle by so early. A few no doubt checked their watches to see if something hadn't gone astray with their day as they know I usually pass by much later. Sorry for the mix-up folks, but today is special.

I'm up and out early because we're heading into Montreal to pick up our son. He's been in Singapore and China for over a year and I can't wait to have him home. I hope he still speaks enough English for us to communicate. My Chinese is really lousy. I only know how to say Hello...

Does This Make Sense to You?

After more than a year away, my son flies home from Hong Kong tomorrow. His ticket costs to Asia and back cost roughly $1500 Cdn. I want to fly up to Kangirsuk in northern Quebec this Fall. My ticket will cost roughly $2000 Cdn. Does that make sense to you? He flies the equivalent of a trip around the world. I fly a 4 hour flight inside my home province and I get to pay $500 more than he does!

It's bad enough for me, but these costs have made prisoners of the Canadians who live in the northern part of the country. They can't go anywhere. The government has the gall to spend billions of our tax dollars on arctic military adventures which help no one - we only have one 30 year old icebreaker with real arctic capabilities, yet they want a deep-water port (!?) - meanwhile they have stranded thousands of people in their home communities thanks to the incredible costs of airfare. The logic here escapes me.

I paddled today mulling these thoughts over and the clouds dropped lower and lower. Was that mind control or what?

BTW, I wore my Kokatat storm cag today for the first time. I got it for Newfoundland, but never wore it. It was neat, warm and dry. I wish I'd had it paddling around Manitoulin when I damn near got hypothermic paddling in the rain one day.

Build a Boat

Someone once told me that the road to a happy life required only three elements: one must plant a tree, build a boat and raise a child. I suspect the advice was right. I have few complaints at this point having accomplished all three and can say they all continue to give me great pleasure.

Today I noticed that someone else has been following the same advice, or, the boat building part, at least. On Day 5 of my 100 Day Paddle I discovered this wooden beauty all rigged out and ready to go. There was finally some wind on the lake to make things interesting for both of us, although the 31°C temperature was brutal.

The Road to Burgeo, Newfoundland

There are roads and roads that lead to Rome,
But they don't lead down to the sea;
And they take me not to my island home,
So they're not the roads for me.

I came across this poem snipette yesterday, written by Alasdair MacGregor in 1925, and it made me think about the drive down to the sea at Burgeo, Newfoundland. These are the highlands of Newfoundland in a way, clear, rolling vistas, nearly devoid of trees with an arctic tundra feel to them. A road that doesn't lead to Rome, but definitely to the sea. My kind of road!

Day 4, I've got some paddling to do! ;-)

Life's Little Challenges

My wife and daughter both ended their summer yesterday. My wife headed off to work and my daughter dragged herself to university. Neither of them was that happy to see me bid them good-bye at the door. I know the feeling. Still, I face some challenges too. I want that SOF of mine recovered in time for Delmarva in October, so I'd better get busy. There's some work to do on the ribs and chines first and I want to put in some slats for easy entry and paddling comfort.

Then I have promised myself to paddle at least for an hour a day for 100 days before the end of the year. I wanted to make that consecutive days, but fear other obligations will prevent that, so to make this do-able, I'm going with the 100 days total before Dec 31, 2007. That will give me a few days leeway for other things (like driving to Delaware, etc). I'll try to remember to post each Monday, how my count is coming along!

The 'Post' taken from above the water, looking nasty.
The 'Post' from underwater with attendant fishes.
Today was day 3. It was a nice, sunny day after two days of rain and thundershowers. I finally found the sunken post I look for every summer. It's been in the lake since long before I was a child, perhaps close to 100 years, so each year I check for it. It owes me a good number of propeller shear-pins from when I was a kid. It had a way of reaching out and hitting our outboard motor back then that was uncanny. This summer, it had eluded me until today so I took some photos of it above and below water for posterity. I guess it doesn't mind kayaks.

Tomorrow? I'll be paddling. Wonder what I'll see?

Giving Back

Over the past few years I have met a number of well known people in the world of kayaking. I have been taken by how sincere and welcoming these people have been to me, how they wanted to give of their time and expertise to me, a relative beginner in their world. A few of these people, knowing that I had spent time in the Canadian arctic, mentioned the idea of 'giving back' something to the people who's ancestors designed and paddled the first kayaks.

To them, 'giving back' is a way of returning something to those who, most likely unknowingly, gave them something, which has enriched their lives beyond measure. Kayaking has a way of doing that. So many people have express their thoughts and feelings about how kayaking has brought something special into their lives, far beyond what might at first glance be expected from such a humble craft, primarily created for hunting.

But is hard to 'give back' something to a group of people who have no recollection of giving you something. It becomes more like 'giving' without the 'back' part. That's not to say people who want to 'give back' are wrong. It's only that the context needs to be clear and the act of giving needs to be carefully worked out so everyone feels comfortable with what they are receiving.

I'm looking forward to discovering that 'comfort zone' as I do my little part in 'giving back'. I personally have a hugh debt to repay a number of people who probably are totally unaware they gave me as much as they did first when I was young and looking for a path through life, and then when I began kayaking in my 50's. My present ideas about giving back are as small as this baby ptarmigan as I write, but hopefully they will grow and take off just like this bird will someday do.

I'm Ruined!

I know that, just a few years back, I used to read stories of people who had the good fortune to go paddling in far off places, living exciting lives, surviving on pure adventure adrenaline and so on. Oh how I yearned for those days! My retirement couldn't happen soon enough so that it could begin and I would finally live the life worth living.


Well now that I am retired and am doing my best to crank up the adrenaline pump again, I have been able to taste the 'good life'. I hope you all get there. It's all they say it is. Just look at one of the rock garden fun spots in Newfoundland you could spend the day mucking about in. Places like these make paddling worth doing.


However at the moment, I'm ruined. You see, I didn't work hard enough or get rich enough. I can't stay out in the Paddleland for very long before the bank starts grumbling. I have to return home and hunker down until the coffers refill a bit. Now I go kayaking in a somewhat more subdued rock garden, like this one in the picture above. A single rock lying in about 15 cms of water.

So, if you're still young and, like me, yearning to paddle with the lucky ones, work hard, save your money and once your duties and responsibilities are behind you, you'll paddle your dreams, even if it's with grey hair and wrinkles. In the meantime, I'm ruined, at least until my money pouch refills and I can take off to Paddleland and turn on my dream machine again.

For those New On The Planet...

The 'Privacy Folks', as I call them, have gone to new lengths on my local lake. I noticed this interesting sign while paddling along a section of deserted shore yesterday. Now in the old days it was sufficient to post 'Private' - or Privée, in French - but now they have video surveillance. Come again? A deserted shore with video surveillance? I don't think so! How do they transmit the video signal over the hill and far away? Let's face it, we're being led astray here...

Don't you just love it when people get up the nerve to feed you a chunky load of BS? How dumb do they think we are? It's not like many of us are new on the planet (although I've known a few people who keep acting like I'm a recent arrival...)!

The Ups and Downs of Sea Kayaking

One of the joys of sea kayaking is to paddle in many different locations, but even paddling back and forth in the same area offers lots of variation and interest. These two pictures were taken 'somewhere on Trinity Bay', Newfoundland, on a day when Alison Dyer and I paddled I along a coastline she's paddled often and knows well. While her kids, husband and their friends walked the trail along the coast heading to a picnic beach, we got to enjoy a rollicking downwind paddle along the cliff face. The waves were good and bouncy, the birds in full scream, the whales just visible now and then and best of all, the wind was at our back. We surfed along at times and at others, we played in the rock gardens, squeezing through narrow slits and channels, taking advantage of the swell to get through. It was a fun outing on a warm, sunny, breezy day.


At the end of the ride and after the picnic, we had the option of borrowing a car to shuttle our boats back home, or to paddle over the same route we'd just come, albeit, this time, upwind. We didn't need to discuss it. We'd had so much fun coming downwind, going back up was bound to please as well. And it did. So even paddling back up the coast we'd just past was fun, challenging and completely worth the effort. It wasn't boring or plagued with a sense of 'sameness'. It seemed completely new and exhilerating. The joy of kayaking!

Lousy Day, Great Paddle

I don't want to give the impression that I'm just a fair-weather paddler. I do paddle in lousy weather and here is an example of one such paddle out of Avondale, Newfoundland with Rick and Jim. Poor weather, but great company and a little surprise as well!


We launched in Avondale off a slippery slip.


We headed into the fog and skirted the cliffs leading out to Conception Bay.


We passed over the shallow bar, which nearly blocks off Avondale Bay from the sea when it dries out.


We saw some disturbance on the water and discovered it was made by a whale feeding just offshore. Perhaps, it's two. A mother and baby? Just as I was getting some close in pictures, a large motor boat came along and the whales disappeared, so we never found out.


After several hours of liquid fun, we returned to the put-in and headed home for something warm and dry. Lousy weather, great day!

The Banting Memorial

When I was a child, my parents would sometimes visit Lady Banting and have tea. I'm not sure how they knew her, except we lived not too far away from where she had a small estate near the Quebec - Vermont border. We children would be invited as well and it was always a fun time going through her barns and seeing all the old stuff that was kept in them: horse carriages, ageing farm equipment and so on. I always wondered where Sir Frederick Banting was and why we never saw him. He was the co-discoverer of insulin and quite famous, but never there.

As an adult I found out that Sir Banting had been killed in an air crash, but again I knew no details.

After leaving Fogo, I happened to camp near Musgrave Harbour on the north coast. It was there I found this memorial to Sir Banting and his comrades. They had been killed when their plane, like the one in the picture, crashed about ten miles inland just as it was about to head overseas during World War II. Unexpectedly, the questions I had wondered about for over 50 years were answered. It was heartwarming to think that a small Newfoundland town recognized the importance of perpetuating Sir Banting's accomplishments, but it also begged a question: what have I done for humanity that would deserve a similar honour? Interesting thought for each of us to ponder on, isn't it?

Irish Tilting and Cape Fogo

I believe that following where the road leads me often brings wonderful surprises. So after finding no place to stay in the town of Fogo, I drove down the road until it came to an intersection. A road led east. I followed it. On Fogo, there aren't many roads so I knew I come out someplace people lived. Sure enough the road ended in the community of Tilting and the first place I tried had a room for me. It was an old fashioned house, about 100 years old or more, built in the old way with ceilings just above your head, two rooms down and three tiny bedrooms above. The people were friendly and after several days of camping, the beds were luxurious. How could I not stay there?


The maps said Cape Fogo, right at the eastern tip of the island. Surely I'd find the Edge of the World out there somewhere. This view looking along the garden fences behind Tilting shows the beginning of the Cape in the background. I prepared for a long day's paddle and headed out. When I finally got to the 'cape', a fisherman told me, "You've a ways to go yet, b'y..." And I did!


Along the way, I came across a 'growler', a piece of ice, mostly submerged, lying in wait for some poor boat to damage and possibly sink. I broke off a piece by giving it a good whack with my Greenland paddle (naturally) and voila, a taste of Greenlandic iceberg served fresh right on the foredeck! Yummy!

Cape Fogo may have been one of the Earth's Four Corners, but I saw no signs of the Edge. I did see some signs of the old community that had once been located along the south facing shore, but little now remained after the re-settlement occurred years ago. My paddle had taken me along the whole east coast of Fogo, a shoreline of shallow bays, low hills and Atlantic swell and a cape that seemed endless! A great day on the water!

Fogo - The Island At the Edge of the Earth

"A new tourism commercial (2007) for Newfoundland cites that the Flat Earth society believed that Newfoundland was one of the four edges of the world." so says the Wikipedia's entry on the society. While in Newfoundland, I heard that Fogo Island, on the north coast, in fact, was actually one of the four corners of this flat world. I decided I had to check it out. Wouldn't you?


Step one was take the ferry over to Fogo. Had I known how delightful the trip over was to be and that we'd encounter whales along the way, I'd have paddled through the series of islands and camped along the way and on Fogo itself. Next time.


Once on the island, I drove to the Atlantic shore where I assumed the Edge would be located and then spotted an iceberg off of Joe Batt's Arm. I quickly launched from a sandy beach to see both it and, naturally, the Edge of the Earth, which no doubt lay just a short distance beyond.


I hadn't gone more that a mile or so offshore when the wind and swell began to kick up and the sea state got noticeably rougher. I was also surprised to encounter a reef so far out with the swell crashing over it. Was I getting closer to the Edge? As well, the iceberg seemed to be moving away from me, like a Siren beckoning me to my Fate... What to do, I pondered?


I finally decided not to chase the iceberg any further out to sea and turned back to shore. Coming close, I watched the surf pounding along the rocks while the patches of fog drifted nearby...

There would be other icebergs to chase. Perhaps the Edge of the Earth was closer to the shoreline elsewhere on Fogo. I packed up my things and headed to the eastern end of the island to have a look...

It Was a 'Bergy' Good Year!

Everywhere I went along the north and east coasts of Newfoundland, people remarked that 2007 had been a "very good year" for iceberg sightings. Here is a small sampling of the many I came across...

Eastport Bay off Sailor's Island.

St Chads, off Baker's Loaf Island seen on right.

Off Bonavista in Bonavista Bay

Entrance to Joe Batts Arm, Fogo Island

Looking out of Cottrell's Cove, Notre Dame Bay

Twillingate, Notre Dame Bay

Sailor's Island - Part 4 of 4

This last video completes the series on our visit out to Sailor's Island. Rick and I had been trying to get out to visit at least one of the icebergs we could see from the shoreline near his cabin in Eastport. Each time we headed out, the winds conspired to keep us from getting close. This one near Sailor's Island was more accommodating: we had both wanted to visit the island since the previous summer, the weather the day we made the paddle out was sunny and calm and the iceberg couldn't have been more welcoming and beautiful. Changing weather the following day resulted in it's eventual breakup. It simply disappeared overnight. All that remained were a few 'bergy bits' rolling on the shores of Eastport Bay.

Sailor's Island - Part 3

Here is the third part of the video I made of Rick and my paddle out to Sailor's Island, an old re-settled community near Salvage, Newfoundland. In this episode, we paddle into the harbour for a look around and to take some pictures. We then leave to head out to look at the iceberg seen in the pictures posted yesterday.



Tomorrow's video will be the end of the series: the visit to the iceberg!

Sailor's Island, Newfoundland

We landed on the tiny beach in the protected harbour of Sailor's Island and started exploring. The first thing we noticed was a willow tree, just above and to the left of our kayaks, which seemed out of place. Perhaps it had been planted by residents years ago. An area just beyond seemed squared off and may have been a garden.


From the water, we could see the summer inhabitants: a flock of sheep, including a black one! It appears that someone has solved their fencing costs by moving the animals onto an island! We also caught sight of the iceberg in the bay beyond and decided to go out for a closer look. I'll post the video of that excusion in the next few days.


Rick went over to look at the area where we'd seen the swell breaking on the Bonavista Bay side of the island seen in part 2 of the video series. There were several hazards lurking out there for the unwary paddler. We decided it was just as well we didn't go out through the narrows after all. The ground was covered with lots of bakeapple berries slowly ripening. Perhaps they'll pick them in late August when they pick up the sheep.


Returning to our kayaks, we left the harbour and paddled past these lobster traps, then headed around the island and out to the iceberg. It was melting rapidly in the sunny warm weather, water came streaming down its sides and bergy bits trailed off to one side as they broke off and sailed away.

Sailor's Island - Part 2

In part 1, posted yesterday, Rick and I made the passage from the mainland over to Sailor's Island in Eastport Bay. Today, in part 2, we begin our exploration of the island, particularly the eastern entrance to the old harbour area.



To be continued...

Paddle To Sailor's Island - 1

Sailor's Island is a small island a mile or so offshore in Eastport Bay, just around the corner from Salvage on Bonavista Bay in Newfoundland. It was once the site of a tiny fishing community which like Ireland's Eye was re-settled some years ago. Today little remains on Sailor's Island except for some grave stones, foundations and hints of old gardens and so on. Most of the houses were either floated over to Salvage or torn down. Still it is an interesting place to visit and explore as you'll see. Over the next few days, I'll post a series of short videos I took during the visit Rick Hayes and I made to the island last July. Hope you enjoy!



Part 2 will be posted tomorrow...