7/2/17, “Back on Track”
Saddle Island, Newfoundland and
Labrador (Red Bay Basque Whaling Station)
This unassuming dateline belies
the significance the words I have just uttered.
“Continental Mainland North America Complete.” What does that mean? It means that I have contemplated the Darien
Gap in Panama from the southernmost roads on this continent, that I have hiked
Wrangell-St. Elias National Park & Preserve in Alaska in the far northwest,
that I have come to the Basque Whaling Station here at Red Bay in Labrador, the
easternmost reaches of this this continental landmass, and that I have been to
every World Heritage Site in between. It
also means that I have eaten local meals in every country on this continent and
been to each and every national legislative assembly building.
Why I am qualifying it with the words “Continental
Mainland,” though? Well, in 48 hours,
that qualifier will no longer be necessary.
After I take the ferry back across the Strait of Belle Isle to the
island of Newfoundland, two more WHS on that island will be all that stands me
and an unqualified pronouncement of, “North America Complete.” It has been no easy task, and this trip so
far has been one of the most challenging.
I am sleep-deprived, drained, and exasperated, but I am back on track
after the initial delays. The mission
always comes first, and this trip’s mission is an important one.
After I closed last night, I could not fall
asleep right away. After 11 hours of
driving, and furiously writing my entry, my mind was racing. I would manage two full REM cycles and a
little extra, waking up around 8:30 AM.
I had to check-in for the ferry by 9:30 AM, so I would have had time for
breakfast, but I wasn’t hungry yet. I
instead took my time getting out of the room, too much time. Reader, pay attention to the next string of
events.
I couldn’t publish from the room
due to the weak Wi-Fi signal, so around 9 AM, I headed to the ferry terminal,
which was attached to the motel, and got my ticket, first stopping at my car to
put away my clothes from yesterday and get a few things to put in my day bag. I then went to the front desk to confirm the
Wi-Fi password and went to the restaurant for a cup of coffee. I sat down and got ready to publish. I reached into my pocket to take out my phone
to check if my photos had uploaded. My
phone wasn’t there.
NONONONONONO. I checked my other pockets, the table, and my
day bag. It wasn’t there. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! I took solace in the fact that there was a
limited number of places where the phone could be. Since I last saw my phone, my movement had
been constrained to about a 500-ft radius.
I asked at the front desk, at the restaurant, no one had seen it. I did not even consider that someone would
have stolen it. I was in complete panic
mode. I went to the ferry terminal,
nope. I back to my room, thinking I
could have left it there, my best guess, actually. The bed had already been stripped. NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I found housekeeping, asked if they had seen
a phone. They hadn’t. I was out of sorts now, so I asked them to
try calling it. The entire motel staff
was looking for my phone. I went to my
car, looking in the trunk, thinking it might be in my pajama pockets or perhaps
I had put on the bed of the trunk when I resituated myself. I then saw someone running out with it. I cannot describe the sense of relief. Losing my phone at this point would have
ruined the trip. Absolutely.
Where was it?
In the lounge chair in the lobby.
My reader will note that I made no mention of sitting down in the lounge
chair, nor do I remember doing so. It
didn’t matter. I had my phone back. It was now 9:15 AM, and I went back to the
restaurant, my coffee still waiting. I
rushed to publish my entry by 9:30 AM, and I was about a minute late. They told me to be at the ferry dock at 9:30
AM. I didn’t think I would miss the
boat, which would depart at 10:30 AM, but I was still stressing out.
I headed to the ferry dock, and they weren’t
boarding yet, so I lit up an Oliva, but we soon boarded, so I had to let it go
out as I boarded. When we got on board,
I looked for smoking area, but almost every deck was painted “NO SMOKING”. I found one on the lower deck with a chair
that didn’t have a sign, so I sat down there and finished my cigar as we took
off.
I then got breakfast, which consisted
of bacon and eggs on toast, hash browns, and coffee. It was perfect. Before long, we arrived at Blanc-Sablon,
which is actually in Quebec. I got off
and got on the Trans-Labrador Highway, lighting up a La Palina Mr. Sam for the drive. I
have never seen a paved road in US or Canada with so many potholes.
I took a ceremonial picture at the border
with Labrador and then continued the brutal drive to Red Bay, only about 60
klicks, but it was slow going. I was
glad that it was light out and that this was early in the day for me. After a bunch of potholes, I had my second
scare of the day. All the lights in the
car went out, and I lost acceleration.
Huh? I pulled over, hoping that I
just had some kind of freak flame-out. I
shifted to Park, turned the ignition off and back on. It worked.
I had no further problems the rest of the way to Red Bay.
When I got there, I first went to the
“Visitor Orientation Centre,” which had the brochures and Plaques, yes,
plural. They had three: English, Basque,
and French. It was a great display, and
the ranger took some pictures of me.
They explained that they offered a boat shuttle every hour to Saddle
Island, which was the actual whaling station.
The Red Bay Basque Whaling Station is one of the earliest whaling
stations, and it was only recently discovered.
It was run by people from Basque, as the name suggests. It was actually quite a significant
archaeological discovery when it was found.
I went to the “Visitor Interpretation Centre,” which was where they had
all the artifacts, and I found it quite fascinating. I then got some souvenirs from across the
street. I had found out that the
inscription photo was actually taken from a trail back towards the ferry, so I
will stop there on the way to my hotel to take that photo.
I whiled away my time until 3 PM, when the
shuttle took me to Saddle Island. I was
the only one, so I have the whole island to myself. It is quite eerie, actually. Once I got off the boat, I lit up a Romeo y
Julieta, took a ceremonial picture, and proclaimed, though no one could hear
me, of course, “Continental Mainland North America Complete.” I then went to shed with an open door and
good view, where I sat down and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now
close, as the shuttle boat will soon be returning to take me back across to the
mainland.
I just noticed the irony of
what I said, and I will ask my reader to indulge me a bit. Is the Statue of Liberty part of the
continental mainland? Technically, not,
I suppose. Why then am I saying that
Saddle Island is part of the continental mainland? Well, this is a conundrum. Red Bay National Historic Site, all the VCs,
and the Plaques are on the mainland, but it is just the whaling station itself that
is on this small island. I could not
have properly claimed a visit here without visiting the mainland portion, and I
am now so close to the mainland that I can see individual houses, and there are
power cords running across smaller islands from the mainland to this
island.
I will leave it to my reader to
determine whether or not I could have claimed “Continental Mainland North
America Complete” after I visited the San Antonio Missions in Texas last fall,
but I do want to note the irony that I did claim “Continental Mainland North
America Complete” while on an island that is technically not part of the
continental mainland of North America, and I did not even note that it was odd
until now. I might have to edit this
entry slightly when I publish to account for this discrepancy.
L’Anse-au-Clair, Newfoundland and
Labrador
Has my reader solved the mystery
yet? Allow me to give you a clue. What does “Complete” mean? It does not simply mean I have visited a
certain set of sites in a given region.
It means that I have completed that region, that I never have to visit
that region again in furtherance of my travel goals.
That there is the key point. I needed to visit the continental portion of
Labrador in order to claim this WHS. I
could not have flown directly from St. John’s to Saddle Island, and, even if I
could have, I would not have seen the Plaque or been to the spot of the
inscription photo. I needed to set foot
on the continental mainland here in order to get my brochure, to get my
souvenirs, and to get on the shuttle boat.
It thereby would have been premature to say “Continental Mainland North
America Complete” in San Antonio. I am
not sure how relevant it is that the island was separated from the continental
mainland by less than a football field, widthwise, not even lengthwise, or that
I could have waded or easily swam to shore.
The other aspects are more relevant.
However, to be on the safe side, I decided I would claim it again from
the spot of the inscription photo.
My
cigar had gone out naturally while I was writing my entry, so I put it back in
its tube and waited for the shuttle after I closed. From there, I drove to the trailhead that I
knew would lead to the spot of the inscription photo. I was told it would be a 30-minute walk, so I
had saved plenty of cigar. It turned out
to be less than 10 minutes along the Tracey Hill Walking Trail to the spot of
the inscription photo. The only problem
was, a steep walk, a cigar, and the remnants of a cold were a very bad
mixture. I got to the spot and took my
ceremonial pictures. I then proclaimed,
almost shouting with glee, “Continental Mainland North America Complete.” Again, no one could hear me.
After I posted to social media, having a
signal now that I was up some height and out of the valley, I started to walk
back. That’s when I had scare number
three of the day. I pulled out my phone,
and it was off. I had been at about 20%
when I put it my pocket. I tried turning
it on, and it stayed on long enough to show that it was at 0%. How was that even possible? In my pocket, it should have lasted well over
an hour with 20% charge. I raced back to
my car, ditched the cigar in the parking lot, and plugged in my phone. With relief, I soon saw that it was at 1%,
and it actually charged up very quickly, too quickly in fact.
I was too stressed to light a cigar for the
drive to my hotel, and the drive was no easier going back than coming. After about an hour, and getting some rain,
which still hasn’t stopped, I got to my hotel, the Northern Light Inn, just in
advance of a tour group. I wanted to
check in before they did. I again packed
a day bag and a plastic bag with my pajamas and clothes for tomorrow. I love this system. I can leave my two big bags in the car, put
my tobacco and electronics in the small day bag, and use a plastic shopping bag
for my clothes. I was going to wonder
why it took me five years to figure it out, but it’s actually the first solo
driving trip I’ve had since I acquired the small day bag from my coworker. The rain is getting worse, now, not
better. I might have to sneak my cigar
in the room after I finish this entry.
Okay, so I went down to dinner, and they had an Italian buffet, which
looked amazing, or could order local seafood from the menu. I really wanted the buffet. I knew how much I would enjoy it. I looked at the menu, and they had local
dishes, but I really, really wanted the buffet, not to mention it would have
been much quicker. The waitress came
over to ask if I had decided, and I said I needed a few more minutes.
I then went to the buffet to hand back my
menu, and I was about to tell her that I was going to have the buffet, when a
little voice inside me reminded me that this was going to be my one and only
Official meal in Labrador. I called an
audible and ordered bacon-wrapped scallops for an appetizer and fried cod
tongues with “scrunchies” (fried salt pork pieces) and poutine for my
main. The food was slow, but it was
good, very good.
After dinner, I went
outside, grabbed a plastic chair from the bar, and sat down under an overhang
to protect me from the rain, where I lit up an Ardor and proceeded to write
this entry, which I will now close.
Tomorrow is the WHS I most wanted to see on this trip, and the one that
will tie this trip back to my trip of ice and fire, L’Anse Aux Meadows, the
earliest known Viking site west of Greenland.
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