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Published: January 21st 2015
Western Brook Pond
Our first glimpse from the highwayHow relaxing to not move hotels this morning: half an hour extra sleep and no repacking! Breakfast was served in the hotel dining room where two other tour groups were eating; a third group had breakfast in the (pokey) hotel bar. The food was excellent, and our waitress accepted orders for eggs not-scrambled.
Cow Head (named for a rock of seal appearance, female seals are called cows) is virtual a “company town”, based on the attraction of bus tours to the two theatres. As we drove out of town, we saw a public library, a general store, a tire store, a post-office, the Black Cove café, a school and one condo complex, as well as a string of houses. As everywhere, all properties are well kept.
Within twenty minutes, most of us got off the bus at
Western Brook for a 3.5 km walk and
boat tour . The others went on for a boat tour of
Bonne Bay. We walked along a groomed path and boardwalk across the bog to the “pond”, or freshwater fjord. Clouds passed overhead, clearing through the morning for perfect conditions. Interpretive signs explained that most of this was a
peat bog, signaled by the brownish tannic water.
Moose
Lots in Newfoundland, but not where we could see them! In ancient times the fjord was connected to the sea, but the rising of the bog cut it off and now the “pond” is fresh, with low nutrient load (few fish), being fed mainly by runoff from the high cliffs of the Long Range Mountains. In Newfoundland, a pond is any body of fresh water.
As we putted from the dock, a passenger called out! Two moose were feeding on the far side of the pond. These were the first we had seen.
Gradually we moved into the windier and colder environment between dramatic cliffs – this where the fabulous videos of the Newfoundland and Labrador advertising were taken with the aid of a helicopter. We were down down down on the water, looking up up up at rock faces dating literally from the beginning of time on earth. Long cracks caused by geological stresses have been “caulked” by volcanic liquid rock suddenly cooling in the air. The guide tried to explain how the rock here has “floated” on the earth’s magma, churning up to the surface over an unimaginable amount of time. On top of the cliffs are plateaus; these are more of an escarpment than the
Western Brook Pond
As we entered the long arm cracked into the high rock stand-alone mountains familiar to me from the Rockies. Up there, on top, is
caribou land, supporting huge migratory herds.
At the end of the fjord, a family group of (male) hikers got off for a challenging four to five day hike through the forest and cliffs to the base of Gros Morne, up the mountain and over the top. As the boat departed the little dock, everyone realized they had forgotten their map; the boat spun around and returned it to them, plus a forgotten walking pole. The captain said he wouldn’t have returned for the walking pole, but that the map was essential to the hike.
The sun gradually lit the treed sides of the dramatic rocks – trees grow anywhere seemingly. Slowly I realized we had imperceptibly turned around and were coming out of the fjord towards the inaccessible ocean. Soon we were walking back along the boardwalk, full of excitement and contentment from the spectacular works of nature. Now we had the real-life feel for the Newfoundland and Labrador TV
&index=13&list=PLE1BB7A8A2F97332B">ad showing Western Brook Pond.
Our afternoon was free. I bought a sandwich at the boat dock so I could have a quick lunch
and a longed-for nap. Restored, I changed and went swimming in the sun-warmed pool.
Dinner: pan-fried cod, carrots and turnip, baked potato, best crumble ever – partridge berry, Iceberg beer
8:45 p.m. We have just seen an emotional play about
, “The Angel of the North”. She was a nurse midwife who came to the Northern Peninsula, the area we have travelled the last few days, after the first world war. This play,
to provide the first medical services for a district in excess of one hundred miles long. Precise, well-designed staging recreated homes, sleighs, gardens and more with four kitchen chairs, a kitchen table and a large tablecloth. Four actors, two women and two men, created all the characters. The leads, who played Myra and husband Angus, evoked both reticence and passion, appropriate to the people of the times. My empathy was engaged even before the play, because I just finished reading her
. Written later in life, she recalled the horrible health conditions when she arrived. The play, however, brought out the initial shock of her culture encountering the outport culture and the
gradual warmth of community acceptance that developed through trust and the hospitality of those who absolutely depended on family and neighbours for survival. Many of us had tears in our eyes as the play ended – a tribute to one person who changed so many lives for the better.
Isabel Gibson
non-member comment
Blue-green with envy
I envy you your sunlit traverse of Western Brook Pond. When we were there, the cloud layer was so low we couldn't see the tops of some of the cliffs, and the whole scene was grey. We also enjoyed the energy of the performers at Cow Head itself. And I laughed when I read about potatoes and turnips - the staple vegetables! Thanks for the memory refresher.