Newfoundland: 04 Aug - At Last ...

After traveling over a month and a half from our home port in New Jersey USA, we finally slipped the lines in Saint-Pierre et Miquelon at 0905 Wednesday and got underway for the Burin Peninsula on the South Coast of Newfoundland. Our goal was Grand Bank, 29 NM distant, and once a site of major fishing activity in the old banks schooners. This was back when the seas were filled with "ships of wood and men of steel."

Good weather was predicted for the crossing and it lived up to its billing when a light southerly was combined with sunshine and abundant visibility. At about 1115 I called the bridge of the overtaking passenger ferry Arethusa which runs from Fortune in Newfoundland over to Saint-Pierre and back, twice daily in the summer months. I asked the captain whether it was possible to clear back from the French islands into Canada at Grand Bank rather than Fortune, the standard port of entry 5 miles south of Grand Bank. My cruising guides preferred Grand Bank harbor and re-clearance was required because my entry into French territory had invalidated my earlier visa. He didn't know the answer but immediately offered to telephone Customs in Fortune who stated that the procedure was allowed. Consequently we proceeded as planned. The captain also mentioned that a week-long festival was underway in Grand Bank, and that I should not miss the dory races that evening. More on this later.

Within a few minutes of this call we had an excellent visual on the southern end of the Burin Peninsula of Newfoundland (photo upper left), my first sighting of the mysterious and powerful looking island. To say I was very excited doesn't describe the situation. Then at 1345 we entered the man-made harbor at Grand Bank (photo upper right). I was content at last because the major goal of this cruise had been achieved: Newfoundland.

Philip and Sharon from CD 36 Evergreen, last seen in Canso, were waving from the wharf (photo right), and it seemed to me that half the townspeople including Harbor Authority Supervisor Levi Matthews were in attendance also. We'd arrived at a classic Newfoundland "out-port" at last (photo above left and right).

After a bit of boat housekeeping and general fussing, I was preparing to enjoy the dory races and it was then that the weather went decidedly south. The wind built and the rains came. The winds and the rain also stayed for dinner, and most of them slept over. However that little impediment did not deter the dory crews, who rowed and raced furiously in pairs (two racing dorys, each with two oarsmen or oarswomen, photo at left). None of the dorys showed much regard for style or technique compared with what I'd seen years earlier in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. We'd been warned that this competition sometimes resulted in dorys crashing into things, including wharves, moored boats, visiting cruisers, and each other, so we prepared to defend ourselves and our vessels.

This time we were spared the boat-to-boat collisions, but one of the dorys rammed itself into a wharf and remained stuck for 10 minutes. In another instance an oarsman lost both oars overboard and nearly went swimming himself. While all of this was going on, the crowds of locals roared encouragement and endured the drenching rain, even though most had no protection from the downpour. Many were dressed for Bermuda rather than Newfoundland.

Later when I put together the crashes, near drownings, and the soaked fans blissfully rooting for their favorites, I began to think that perhaps there is something to the suggestion that Newfoundlanders really are, well, different. No matter. I was there, finally.