Fogo Island

As soon as you drive off the ferry, you know that Fogo Island is different.

For one thing, if you join the ferry at Change Islands, it means you are driving off the ferry backwards. That was a bit of a shock, but the locals are no doubt used to the peculiarities of a drive-on, drive-off ferry that has Change Islands vehicles facing each other. 

Once through that slightly stressful initiation, the landscape is the next indication of Fogo's uniqueness.  

Fogo is the largest of Newfoundland's offshore islands. But rather than stubby trees or grass as on Change Islands or Twillingate, Fogo is rocky and almost barren. We feel as if we are suddenly on the moon.

It's also very quiet. There are few places to eat, and most of these are closed. Museums and other such attractions of interest are also closed. Even though this has been the same as everywhere, we thought the popularity of Fogo and being well into June would make this place different. But, the story seems to be the same as everywhere - low wages, no staff, few supplies.

The elephant in the room is probably why people know about Fogo, the Fogo Island Inn. There has been so much press about this unique place, we will write more about it later.  a

We stayed instead at Peg's Place, a bed and breakfast in Fogo town. B&Bs are where we tend to meet like-minded travellers, and sometimes get into great conversations, and here we did - and we did. 

We even heard more about the famous Beulah from Change Islands, who we never did meet and who has still not arrived. One of the other guests at Peg's Place told us she was going on to stay at the Seven Oakes at Change Islands, and had just received a long phone call (it's never short) asking if she would pick up la B and her u-haul of supplies in Gander, as Beulah's doctor told her she should not be driving. This woman was rather relieved to say that she was in Fogo and so could not do it.

There is a herd of caribou on Fogo Island, but alas we never did see any of them. We did have some marvelous hiking - Lions Den trail on a stunningly sunny day (still cold tho')

and Joe Batt's arm which locals call the Auk walk in honour of the bronze statue of a great auk at the end. This penguin-like bird became extinct in the middle of the 19th century. Its flightlessness was no doubt why is was unable to evade humans' instinct' to hunt whatever we can.

lonely auk

trying to comfort....

and converse with

the Inn in the distance

Meals were tricky, as there was so little open, but Cod Jigger's diner provided the usual deep fried combination of local items that filled a gap. 

brown food is always on offer

great table support, resembling a fish hut's support

We wanted to get in Turpin's Trail, but ended up spending too much time chatting to Jennifer, the proprietor at the tiny (she is moving to larger digs) but wonderful Tilting Cup in the quiet village of Tilting. She was officially closed that day but actually opened up for us to provide coffee (roasted onsite) and fantastic soup. That's Newfoundlanders for you. We left a big tip.

One of the four corners of the Earth

There is global organization for people that believe the world is flat. 

In 2022.

The Flat Earth Society is a bit notorious, formed in 1956 by one person, who succeeded a previous society with the same opinion.

It beggars belief, with all the scientific proof available, that someone could actually believe the earth is flat in the present day. However, I am of the opinion that the Flat Earth Society does not actually believe the world is flat, but is instead contrarian. At this present time there are a lot of contrarians out there, regardless of which piece of science they choose to ignore. 

The Society contends that the Earth is a disc rather than a glove, with four corners that define the edges.

Brimstone Head on Fogo Island, Newfoundland is one of those corners. 

We climbed to the top and stood right at the apex, as the sun was setting, over a stunning sea and blustery wind, feeling glad of a railing to avoid plunging right over the edge of the Earth into - what exactly? Oblivion? The cosmos? A tortoise's back? Atlas?

from the top of Brimstone Head trail

Fogo sunset, from solid ground

Fogo town from the top of Brimstone Head

Thankfully we made it back down safely and who knows, might even visit the other three corners of the world someday.

  

Twillingate

Prior to Change Islands was Twillingate.

At first it looked like Twillingate might be a bit of a bust. It started great - our room was wonderful, modernly appointed, in the heritage property Hodge's Premises.

Newfoundland premises were the shore operations of cod fishers. They were also called "plantations" or "rooms" (thus the St. John's Museum - The Rooms). Premises were large buildings in which the business accounts for the larger fishing businesses were kept and made, and often their mercantile operations as well. These were general stores, on the ground floor, where food and cloth and hats and kitchenware and tools and rope and all other necessary items could be bought. Even tea cups and lace for those that lusted after some semblance of luxury. 

Twillingate's Hodge's Premises, built and operated by the two Hodge brothers in 1914, operated as intended until the 1960s. Renovated, then sold to a local hotel, then renovated again recently, it has about 6 suites, with a coffee/gift shop below. We have a peek-a-boo water view, or would have if the fog lifted.

We booked on to a boat trip to see any local icebergs, and were told that today's trips were cancelled due to the windy weather and the forecast wasn't good, but we signed on anyway in hope.

Food first night was not stellar. However it was pretty good given that there was very little else open (a taco food truck with picnic tables did not appeal given the -6 degrees with the wind chill).

There are lots of trails on this island, which is joined to another island by a causeway, which is joined to the Island proper by another causeway. The trails were a big reason we were here, but the icebergs were another. Would we see any at all? 

Foggy, cold and wet, and windy as heck the next morning, we set out for our first trail near the lighthouse. The fog horn was so loud I almost jumped out of my skin, but the trail went down and to the left to a lovely crashing Sandy Cove and the horn became more distant. 

Fantastic little coffee shop - closed. Lighthouse museum - closed. 

Next trail was a shortish one - Top of Twillingate. Great trail, steep but well marked, 4 wonderful lookouts into still pretty foggy day. 

Boat trips that day - cancelled. Dinner theatre - closed.

My research had found a seafood restaurant a short drive away, so we gave it a go. Score! Doyle Sansome had lobster, crab, excellent chowder, shrimps, scallops, and onward we ate our way through the menu.   

On our way back.....we saw an iceberg, across the causeway! Hiding behind a tiny island. 

We took a little lane that trundled to a stop by an old fisherman's house. I know that because the old fisherman was standing outside greeting us and others, and allowing us photographic access to "his" berg, foregrounded by his excellent, neat woodpile. if you ever need someone to stack your wood, hire a Newfoundlander. He seemed bemused by all the attention but happy to chat. We didn't want to turn him into a museum exhibit so focused our camera on the iceberg and woodpile instead.

Icebergs are approximately 10,000 years old, formed before the last ice age. Almost all of Newfoundland's icebergs come from Greenland and take up to three years to get here, melting as they go. They are 85% melted already, before they even get here to what is called "Iceberg alley". As the sea temperatures rise in spring, they have only a few days before they melt completely. It would be great to see one up close.

Next day, tour operators - closed. Shops - closed. Boat trips - cancelled.     

The little town museum was open, and so was the winery. A winery! Dandelion, rhubarb and berry based wines, it sounded grisly but the dry options were actually very nice and they ship to BC. They even had a partridgeberry port that was quite surprisingly excellent.

Auk Winery tasting

More trails today. One of which seemed quite busy despite the grey and wind - lots of cars parked at the trailhead. We decided to join in and about 25 minutes in, we reached a beach, turned and saw this! 

We continued up the hill to look down on the iceberg, and the sun came out. 

Back at the beach, we could see bits of the iceberg had broken off and drifted to shore. We had a taste of millennia-old ice.

We celebrated with lunch at the same place as yesterday (there was not much option anyway). Wonderful mature women waitresses, friendly, we were called "my darling" about 25 times over the course of our lunch. Excellent seafood and not many people there. It deserves to be better known.

Back we came over the causeway, to see the best advertisement sign ever.

Right there, we saw a local character's tiny museum was open. Once inside, we heard he was taking small groups out in his little open boat that afternoon! Given his proximity to the causeway and both icebergs, he was able to operate where Twillingate town's boats were not.

We were already wearing 4 or 5 layers of clothing but Captain Dave dressed us with another 2 or 3.

It was cold, but sunny and sparkly blue. We saw both icebergs really close up, and the light changed with every photo depending on which angle we were in.

Looks like an angel with outspread wings

Coming under the tiny bridge of the causeway, we had to inch carefully to avoid hitting a piece of iceberg that had broken off and was already floating to the other side of the island.

Captain Dave and his happy few heading back to shore 

under the causeway

Dave's place

Back to grey the next morning, but for one brief shining afternoon, Twillingate turned on its charms with full wattage. 

 

Grey Days and Happy Trails

 For a week, we have followed a sort of morning routine. When we get up we look out the window. Is it raining? Is it foggy? Is it just grey?

This doesn't really matter as we do the same thing regardless, and that is put on almost everything we own.

Long socks, leggings, rain pants (for the wind), long quilted skirt if today's train doesn't involve a lot of climbing or clambering, long sleeved merino t-shirt, cashmere turtleneck sweater, down cardigan, quilted merino jacket, rain jacket, toque, head band, and gloves. And a sou'wester if raining.

Ready, we face the elements. We might see puffins or caribou (we don't). We might see crashing waves or even an iceberg (we do!)

A few hours later we come home, eyes streaming, cheeks fixed in a frozen grimace, happy in our hearts and tired in our limbs. Most places have showers, but when we get a bathtub, we gratefully sink our cold, tired bodies into it. Yes, the water is brown and there is sediment, but it's hot!

fresh bath water, really!

Root Cellars

Growing anything in Newfoundland is tough. Grain is impossible. The best one could hope for is to fence in a scrap of soil, enriched with seaweed or anything to provide some sort of nourishment and grow some hardy root vegetables: potatoes, turnips, onions, rhubarb, maybe carrots.

The growing season is mighty short, but there was no real need for refrigeration. If anything, harvested crops need to be protected from freezing, so an outside pantry is out of the question.

With rocks and slate in abundance, the answer is the root cellar. Dig a little, set a foundation of stones and insulate it with more stones, install a secondary door so you have a little hall between the outside and the vegetables. Cover the whole thing with sod or grass and you have a chance of keeping live-saving sustenance through the many months of nothing but fish.

There are dozens of root cellars on Bonavista peninsula. Some of them have been around for over a century. Whether they are still used or not, they are still kept in immaculate condition. And in case of a hurricane, you can close yourself in with the carrots!    

All Change Please

The blog as been AWOL for a few days as we were in Change Islands, small and remote, without wifi or consistent cell coverage.

Change Islands is actually 3 islands - 2 joined by a 30 metre bridge and the other not at all. The town of Change Islands is probably 150 people, tops. I do not know what it is called Change Islands, no one had an answer for me. It is a quiet backwater where young people move away to find jobs, and their parents work 3 or 4 jobs (home care, working in the fish plant, unloading the crab or lobster catches - whatever work there is on offer).

Owner and local legend Beulah Oakes was delayed in arriving here from her winter digs in Deer Lake, but to the rescue came two angels of hospitality, the Trudys. Here were two women with the same name, first and last, as one had married the other's brother! To us they were Trudy 1 and Trudy 2.

They didn't have the reservation book, which was with Beulah, so didn't know for sure who was arriving on this first day the Seven Oakes Inn was open for the season, which was the day we arrived. "Who are you? Ok, well, pick your room, #5 or #6. Do you want dinner? Cod ok with you?"

Inn at the top of the hill

The place, not lived in for several months, was cold, but spotless, and thankfully there was enough food for a fantastic home-cooked meal of beef soup, pan-fried cod with lots of vegetables (glory be - I've missed vegetables!) and blueberry cake in vanilla sauce. Not licensed. That's fine by us.

The outside 55km wind gusts and steel-grey cold did not dampen our stay. We duly did the Squid Jiggers Trail, which , as usual, was incredibly well marked and scenic. 

lots of this!

so windy the outhouse fell over

amusing trail signs

There being nothing else to see and nothing else open, we walked back home and greeted the few other travelers who also surprised Trudy 1 and Trudy 2. 

But did the Trudys show it? No, they did not. 

Goodness knows how they found enough food to put together big breakfasts and big dinners for 7 people from the little local shop that was open for 1.5 hours (Beulah was bringing supplies in her U-haul). There are no other restaurants or even cafes open on the entire Change Islands, which has all of 180 inhabitants. 

a little treacherous!

view from our room

And yet, the road was excellent (no potholes that seem to plague the whole of Newfoundland) and the ferry - my goodness the ferry! How did this tiny community merit a ferry - large, cheap and four times a day. If the ferry didn't stop on its way to more populated and prosperous Fogo Island I imagine this place would be deserted within a year.

the ferry line up and interesting signage
- it cost us $13.50 for two, plus car

ferry held in place with 3 ropes, attached by 1 guy driving from bow to stern 4 times a day - hope he has a good book with him!

Time slowed. We 7 chatted in the sitting room, ate together in the dining room, and laughed each other up to our bedrooms for a quiet night. No wifi meant great conversation - it was like going back in time. 

Newfoundland pony refuge on Change Islands