Southwest Coast Adventure in Newfoundland

As we headed back down the Viking Trail, we stopped to look at the Nurse Bennett Heritage House in Daniel’s Harbor. Built in 1922, this traditional two-story house was home to Nurse Myra Bennett for 68 years. Nurse Bennett arrived on the Great Northern Peninsula in the early 1920’s. The young English nurse had signed a two-year contract that essentially named her the nurse, doctor, midwife and confidant to hundreds of people eking out a living on more than 180 miles of isolated coastline. For more than 50 years she traveled by boat and by dog team, on horse and on foot. No patient was too far away, no call came too late at night. The Heritage House, her former home has many of the tools used by Nurse Bennett to deliver 5,000 babies and extract 3,000 teeth during her career.

A few miles further down Route 430, we arrived at The Arches, which is a natural rock archway created over millions of years by a combination of glacial action, erosion by wind and water, and other geological changes. Severe storms continue to change the Arches. Far in the future they will probably be reduced to rock pillars or sea stacks.

Sally’s Cove is believed to be named after Sally Short who, along with her children, left her husband only to be shipwrecked in the cove. Today Sally’s Cove is most noted for its lobster fishery and brightly colored fishing sheds that hug the pebble beach shoreline.

We decided to try one more time to see if we could arrange to take the Western Brook boat tour in Gros Morne National Park. Last time we were booked, the winds reached 60 miles per hour and the tour was cancelled. This tour is heralded as Newfoundland’s most breathtaking water tour. The tour goes thru the dramatic Western Brook Pond fjord and is definitely a memorable experience. Carved by glaciers over a billion years ago, this 10 mile body of water happens to be Gros Morne National Park’s largest lake. Waterfalls cascade from 2,000 feet cliffs above and turn to mist before reaching the water below. A three kilometer walk to the boat docks allowed us to view the bog area as well as many of the plants and trees that were beginning to show off their fall colors. We spent one more night overlooking the Gulf of St. Lawrence and were treated to a gorgeous sunset.

As we headed further south the next morning, we got a close view of a couple of moose. The one closest to the RV had a beautiful rack but quickly ran back into the forest before I could get my camera focused. The second one, which ran across in front of us, had to be a female, because she just stood around in the brush and let me take several pictures of her. What a photo hound! Anyway, now we have seen a total of five moose on this trip. I’m not sure if I have mentioned this before but moose are not native to the province. In 1904, four were taken off a train at Howley and introduced into the wild where their numbers grew quickly.

Still further south, around Steady Brook, is the location of Marble Mountain Ski Resort. Though I don’t ski anymore (too old and too clumsy), I can just imagine “shooshing” down the mountainside.

On route 1 (Trans Canada Highway), the Old Man in the Mountain watches every vehicle that makes the 35 mile drive from Corner Brook to Deer Lake. Legend has it that Spanish pirates buried treasure on Shellbird Island, and that a weatherbeaten old man is guarding the riches. Can you spot his face in the rock formation?

We stopped briefly in Corner Brook but quickly decided that it was not a town we wanted to spend much time in. Too crowded and built on a hillside with tiny, narrow roads. Further down the road we spotted fishing villages, lobster dorys painted bright orange and a fishing boat peacefully bobbing out in the bay. The fog and low lying clouds made a perfect picture and as we drove along, we noticed the red leaves of the maple trees which were becoming very vibrant.

Stephenville is a town which has the distinction of being both a sea port and an airport. An F-102 Delta Dagger aircraft, permanently grounded next to town hall, was presented as a memorial to the former Ernest Harmon Air Force Base, located there from 1941-1966. While there, we took a detour and drove routes 460 and 463 which are named the French Ancestors Route. We could definitely tell we were back in the country of the French heritage as we noticed the unusual yard ornamentations. We visited our Lady of Mercy church, the largest wooden structure in Newfoundland, checked out Red Island, named for its red cliffs, and visited the province’s only alpaca and llama farm. We drove across a wooden bridge and arrived at another wooden church, Holy Trinity Anglican church which was built in 1914 and while it is not the largest, it well may be the oldest, in the community.

On Routes 406 and 407, we entered Codroy Valley. People here live off the land. They raise dairy cows, sheep, and horses. The fertile valley is known for its agricultural products. Framed by the Long Range and Anguille mountains, and the Atlantic Ocean, Codroy Valley is comprised of 15 communities and a population of 2,200. A walk thru the Valley’s Wetlands allows you to view up to 200 species of migratory birds. Further along the coast, we stopped to view the Cape Anguille Light Station. Since the early 1900s this beacon of refuge and safety has been tended by a member of the Patry family. This site is also the most western site in Newfoundland. We have now been on the farthest points of each side of the island.

Today is our last full day on the island. We will be heading out on the Port aux Basques ferry tomorrow which is the shorter of the two ferries. Port aux Basques is the “gateway to Newfoundland”. This ice-free port was a 16th century fishing station for French, Portuguese and Basques fishermen seeking shelter when violent storms whipped the Gulf of St. Lawrence into a white-crested fury. It is also a former railway town; the final port of call for the infamously slow Newfie Bullet – rumoured to take more than 27 hours to reach this town from St. John’s.

We traveled past Port aux Basques on route 470 to Isle aux Morts called Deadman’s Island by the French. The name reflects the many ships wrecked on these shores. A hike sounded like a good idea so we hiked Harvey’s Trail. George Harvey was a local hero famous for saving nearly 200 people in two shipwrecks off the coast of Isle aux Morts. He fished in the summer and rested in the winter. With the fish he caught, he bought commodities like flour, sugar and molasses to tide him and his family over in winter. The weather was rough and there were no other families on the island for company. He often buried bodies that would float ashore from shipwrecks he did not even know occurred. Shipwrecks and the Newfoundland coast are two items that belong together, especially at Isle aux Morts. An estimated 3,000 shipwrecks have occurred along the southwest coast over the last 130 years.

The two biggest feats in his life came in 1828 and 10 years later in 1838. July 10, 1828 could hardly be called a summer’s day as hurricane force winds whipped thru the area. George Harvey was a Newfoundland fisherman and could tell this was going to be a fierce storm. That night George got up, put on his rubber gear and took a walk along the beach. There he discovered driftwood and some supplies. He knew from experience there was a wreck nearby. The Despatch, after a navigation error had landed on Wreck Bay. The vessel’s mission was to take a load of Irish immigrants to Quebec City where they were going to make a new life for themselves. George rushed back to his small two room bungalow and told his family what he had seen. Immediately his 17 year old daughter, Anne, and his 12 year old son, Tom, volunteered to go with their father. It was two days before the water was stable enough for them to launch their punt. When it was possible, off they went with their Newfoundland dog, Hairyman, in tow.

The passengers who were aboard the Despatch had no way of getting off the ship. Every time they’d launch a long boat, it would get swept back in, destroying the boat and leaving nothing but driftwood behind. All they could do was wait, cling to the rocks, and hope to be rescued. George, Anne, and Tom launched their 12 foot punt into the raging waters. They put aside any concern for their own welfare. With Anne moving the main oars and Tom the rear, the Harvey family rowed about three miles. The fierceness of the ocean made going right up to the ship impossible. George decided to keep the boat positioned where it was. With no other way of reaching the stranded voyagers, George tied a rope around his Newfoundland dog, Hairyman, and ordered him into the water and to the vessel. The dog knew just what to do. He fought the big waves and after being driven back several times, he finally reached the brig and was eagerly drawn aboard. Once there, the crew tied another rope around the dog and without any instructions, he returned to his master. With the dog aboard the punt, the Harveys had the task of getting back to the nearest point of land, a little over a mile away. This meant an extreme amount of work on the oars through vicious seas. George Harvey knew only too well the mood of the ocean. It was a good possibility that the punt would capsize and the family could drown. It was a chance he decided to take as about 200 lives depended on him. Luck was on their side that night for the huge sea took them and placed them near the shore. When the sea receded, the punt was land bound. Quickly they tied their boat and began to drag the stout cable that the Despatch had sent to them and strung the cable tightly between ship and land. Though the conditions were hazardous, the crew on the slowly sinking ship set up buoys and soon transported the passengers to land. Just as the last man came off the buoy, the Despatch slid off the rocks and under the sea. George clothed and fed the people with his meager supplies and rowed a long boat eight miles to Port aux Basques to report the wreck. About four days later a ship was sent to retrieve the survivors and took them to their original destination of Quebec City. George received a special medal from King George IV to commemorate the brave rescue. He was also given 100 pounds of Sterling Silver from Lloyds of London.

On September 14, 1838, a similar incident happened. The captain of the Rankin was trying to change course and soon found his 650 ton cargo ship grounded. He began firing rockets, hoping someone would see them. As luck would have it, Anne and George were walking along the shore and saw the distress signals. They once again launched their 12 foot punt into the sea. Fortunately, the seas had abated some and they were able to row their little boat up to the ship. Then in groups of three, the Harveys took the clinging survivors to shore one mile away. Once again the Harveys opened their home and provisions to these 25 until a rescue vessel could be dispatched to take the survivors safely home. We enjoyed the hike and the history lesson and McKenzie did a really great job of walking the trail and climbing the stairs along the way.

Our next stop was Burnt Islands where a causeway was built to link a single community divided by water. We couldn’t resist taking a picture of the local grocery story and filling station that provides services for this small fishing village.

The last stop for the day was a trip out to the Rose Blanche lighthouse. This is one of the last granite lighthouses on the Atlantic seaboard. It was built in 1871 from a nearby granite quarry. The building operated as a lighthouse from 1873 to the 1940s. There were six keepers over the approximately 70 years of the lighthouse’s existence. After it was abandoned, the building fell into ruins. In 1988 the Southwest Development Association and other community groups began the long process of restoring the structure to its former condition. Actual restoration began in 1996 and was completed in two years. The reconstructed lighthouse is furnished with 19th century reproduced furniture and local antiques. One remarkable feature is the stone steps within the tower walls which kept the tower from collapsing after it was abandoned.

McKenzie enjoyed tossing a coin into the old well and making a wish. (I wonder how many dog treats she wished for?)
We were all pretty well tired by the time we got back to the trailer. These past 6 ½ weeks have been wonderful. Though we are looking forward to getting back to the States (TV and internet – Yeah!!), we are sad to have this trip coming to an end. Here, there is no road rage and very little graffiti. Though the island is a paradise, the people are what make it so great. The moment you lose faith in people, it’s time to come to Newfoundland. Here you will hear them laugh at themselves, sing songs and tell tales. If you need a hand, you get an army. They treat you for who you are and don’t put on phony airs. It is truly a place that will continue to live on inside of us long after we’ve traveled on to new adventures. We hope you’ve enjoyed the trip as much as we have and maybe some day you’ll want to experience the lime green, bright yellow and aquamarine houses spilling into the harbor, for yourself.

St. Anthony - Newfoundland

The Viking Trail continues on to St. Anthony, where another visitor had quite a different impact. Dr. Wilfred Grenfell brought modern medicine to northern Newfoundland and the remote communities of coastal Labrador beginning in the 1890s.

The Grenfell house was built in 1909-1910. Originally standing alone on the hill, the house became knows as “the castle” with flower beds and vegetable gardens. Now, taken over by wildflowers and shaded by trees, it offers a quiet welcome to visitors from around the world. The home has been restored with most of the original furnishings and tells the life story of Wilfred Thomason Grenfell and his wife Anne MacClanahan Grenfell. The airy veranda was exceptionally peaceful and overlooking the harbor, you can understand why the doctor and his wife chose this piece of property for the location of their home.

The name Dr. Wilfred Grenfell is synonymous with the history and development of the tip of the Great Northern Peninsula and the Labrador coast. The reason he is held in high regard is that he was more than a doctor. Dr. Grenfell was a spiritual leader, a driving force behind economic development and a believer in helping people do things for themselves.

A trail behind the house, ambles up into the hills. It was across these “White Hills” that Dr. Grenfell set out in 1908 on his dog team to attend a patient in Englee, some 50 miles to the south of St. Anthony. He loved this area and requested that when he died, his ashes be buried here. Inset in a large boulder are the ashes of Sir Wilfred and Lady Grenfell, along with four other prominent figures who played significant roles in the ongoing development of Grenfell Mission.

The Grenfell Interpretation Center depicts his life. He was born February 25, 1865 in a small coastal town in the north of England. In 1883 he entered London Hospital Medical School. While in London, he heard the American evangelist, Dwight L. Moody, speak and his words changed Grenfell’s life and he decided to commit his life to Christ. Grenfell joined the Royal National Mission to Deep Sea Fishermen, an organization which provided medical and spiritual services to North Sea fishermen. In 1897, he was sent to Newfoundland to investigate the conditions in the Labrador fishery. “We’re wonderful glad to have you” a fisherman said, “We’ve never had a doctor in these parts before”. This was the start of Grenfell’s lifelong work on a coast that was ice blocked and inaccessible for many months of the year. He was devoted to improving the lives of the people. He practiced medicine, built hospitals, established schools and orphanages and when not working on the coast, traveled in the United Kingdom and North America looking for support and labor.

By 1908, Grenfell and his work were well known in Canada, England and the USA, but the events of Easter Sunday, 1908, assured his reputation worldwide. In response to an emergency call, he set off by dogsled across the frozen land to Hare Bay. It was spring and the ice was breaking up. Heedless of the danger, he crossed the Bay. The ice gave way and he was cast into the frigid water. Struggling with his dogs, he finally reached a 12 foot icepan and climbed on freezing, cold and soaking wet. The stage was set for the worst ordeal of his life. Grenfell was in fine physical condition and mentally shrewd enough to rationalize his predicament. He knew that the icepan would soon begin melting and that his six dogs and he would suffer hypothermia as the cold, winds of night blew in. He had to make a decision and though he said it felt like murder, he killed three of his largest dogs and used their hides to wrap up in, while snuggling together with the remaining three. He had made previous arrangements, that if he did not show up by a specified time, a search party should be sent out. His optimism, ingenuity, calmness and religious faith held him at arms length from death’s door through the night as the ice carried him toward the open sea. At first light, five men pushed and rowed a boat thru slush, ice and open water to save “their beloved doctor”. The details of this survival circulated in newspapers worldwide and Grenfell wrote his account in a booklet, sold for fundraising. In his home, he has a wood and brass plaque that honors the three dogs who gave their lives to save his.

Grenfell authored 33 books, published hundreds or articles, created Christmas cards to provide for the Children’s Homes and held prayer meetings on mission ships, wharfs, and fishing boats. In 1892, there were no magistrates on the entire Labrador coast. The Newfoundland government appointed Grenfell as an unpaid magistrate and justice of the peace. He established a network of hospitals and nursing stations that stretched the length of the northern Newfoundland and Labrador coast, and created Children’s Homes for children who were orphans or who could not be cared for by their parents. During his life, he received many honors and awards for his dedicated work and in 1928, he was made a Knight Commander of the Order of St. Michael and St. George.

Grenfell met Anne MacClanahan, the daughter of a U.S. Confederate Army Officer while on board a ship returning from a fund raising tour in England. They were married in 1909 and came to live in the Grenfell house which they had designed together. Anne gave Grenfell’s life comfort and refinement and she became totally involved in his work. She organized his fundraising, tours and lectures, edited his books, and helped secure scholarships for the children of the area to continue their education. She died of cancer in 1938.

As time passed, organizations such as the New England Grenfell Association and the Grenfell Association of America shouldered more and more responsibility for the Labrador work and the Royal National Mission to Deep Sea Fishermen was reduced. In 1912, the Grenfell Association (IGA) came into being. By the late 1920’s the pace had begun to take its toll and Grenfell had his first series of heart attacks. Grenfell died in Vermont on October 9, 1940. When Grenfell died, the mission survived and continued under the guiding hand of Dr. Charles Curtis. In 1937, the mission’s assets included 6 hospitals, 7 nursing stations, 2 hospital ships and assorted vessels, 12 clothing distributions, King George the Fifth Institute in St. John’s, the supply schooner George B. Cluett, and a haul up slip for schooner repairs.

Becoming a province of Canada in 1949, brought more change. Canadian family allowances, old age pensions, and many other benefits meant improved living standards. Federal and Provincial governments began funding health care. As the need for charity diminished, IGA fund raising branches gradually fell dormant. In 1981, the Association passed to the Province, all health related assets for the sum of $1.00. The Province in turn, set up the Grenfell Regional Health Services, under the direction of a local board.

The northern portion of the Great Northern Peninsula has Newfoundland’s longest iceberg-watching season off Fishing Point. Iceberg Alley runs right by the Fishing Point Lighthouse. This is also an excellent place to spot whales. After standing out in the cold wind looking for whales (obviously we weren’t going to see any icebergs this time of year), we decided we’d stop in the Lightkeeper’s Seafood Restaurant and have lunch. This way we could still watch for whales in the warmth of the restaurant. George had fishcakes and I had a fishburger that was so big that George ended up having to eat half of it. Still no whales. I guess the few we saw playing off May Point is all we are going to see this trip.

We have thoroughly enjoyed being here at this time of year after most of the other tourists have headed for warmer climates but if you are interested in eating lobster, seeing whales frolicking in the ocean, watching crystal blue icebergs sail down the ocean, and being part of all the “tourist” attractions, then it would be better to arrive here no later than June. We are finding some of the touristy stuff is closed, which really doesn’t matter to us as we were more interested in learning the history of the land and its people and we have probably driven 2400 miles around the island, poking our noses in most of the nooks and crannies. In a day or so, we will be heading down to the southern portion of the western peninsula – the final portion of our trip. We arrived here as strangers, but we are leaving as family and it will be sad to go. The concept of “paradise found” is not about stumbling upon some ready-made bliss. Rather, it entails nothing less than a willingness to see things differently, to surrender yourself to the inevitable surroundings, to lose a bit of the old you to discover a new you. And, that is what we’ve found in Newfoundland!