Monthly Archives: November 2011

Ghosts of the Battery.

26 Saturday Nov 2011

Posted by in Discovery, Geography, History, Newfoundland, Observations, Sea, Uncategorized, Weather

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During my research, I learned about Cape Spear being the eastern-most part of the North American continent. It’s actually closer to Ireland than to other parts of Canada. I think there is a certain Newfoundland pride in that fact.

This is where the sun shines first, (remember 2.5 hours ahead of Central Time), on the continent each day. When it shines. It gets a jump on the day before most of us are even considering getting out of bed. On the other hand, some of us might just be getting in. After all, the night life goes on long and strong in St. John’s. The day I visited was socked in pretty good with fog. Have I mentioned I really love the fog? (11.14.11 post). Down in St. John’s that morning, it was sunny and pleasant. The drive up to Cape Spear (only 9 miles) was different: very foggy and a good deal colder. Arriving, there was a real visual sense of foreboding. The fog changed everything.

It was much colder because of the fog. The sea roar sounded a lot louder as well. And the wind was anything but gentle. But the piece-de-resistance was the optical illusion the fog created. Getting out of the car and approaching the cliff, the sea appeared to rise vertically behind the lighthouse. It was as an actual seawall was towering before me. Coupled with the amplified sound of the sea, a buffeting wind, and the colder temperatures, this was an incredibly sensual yet disconcerting experience.

Sharing geography on Cape Spear is an old World War Two artillery battery housing two ten inch guns constructed to protect St. John’s harbor. The guns have been neutered but still, silently, are on eternal watch duty. Connected by underground tunnels it would be easy to imagine the soldiers huddled against the cold at their posts. The tunnels show the wear and tear of time and weather and are just waiting to be used in the next M. Night Shyamalan film. In the mercurial light and patterns of the fog, one can almost see the ghosts waiting, listening, ready. What tricks of the eye did the fog play then?

Granny’s Well Turnings.

22 Tuesday Nov 2011

Posted by in Culture, Discovery, Local Art, Uncategorized

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Granny’s well turnings.

The sign said “Granny’s Well Turnings and Handcrafted Gifts.” So that was two more things I thought I needed to do: find out what a well turning was and meet Granny. Neither was what I thought and neither disappointed.

It was good to get out of the car and stretch my legs. Walking up to the house I was greeted by an elderly man, Bren, in work clothes. We exchanged greetings and introductions. He said I was the first one of the year. Anywhere else, I would have thought this to be the opening line in a bad horror movie in its undertones. Here it meant I was the first tourist of the year. Not surprising as it was still winter and most visitors wisely wait until the weather is a bit more clement.

He invited me into his house. Bren said he would have to get his wares out of the closet where they’d been in the off-season. We walked through his workshop where on the floor, all over in heaps and piles, were unfinished bowls and spindles and trinket boxes curing and drying before he could finish them. They came from burls he’d taken off trees. He said it was several years worth of work to do. (I did say he was elderly, didn’t I?)

Bren was and is your typical Newfoundlander – practical, unpretentious to a fault, funny, and most welcoming. And his work was beautiful. We talked some more; he wanted to know what I was doing up in Newfoundland and if I liked what I had seen. Oh, yes. I loved it. I told him where I was off to next and he asked me if I would be back his way after my trip when I returned to St. John’s, a couple of hours away. I told him I would try and get down to see him again. I would. Little did I know at the time but it would be the first of several return trips to visit with him.

Oh, by the way, there was no Granny, just Bren. And a lot of well turnings.

Shooting without a license or a clue.

18 Friday Nov 2011

Posted by in Discovery, Geography, Newfoundland, Observations, Uncategorized

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The moment of truth had arrived. Not the result of downing an uncounted number of Jager shots; nor the facing of a mildly enraged bull. No, those pale in comparison. With camera in hand and way too many rolls of film, I venture out to start what I came up here for… taking photographs. But, as I practice my personal conceit of not taking pictures I’ve seen before, I’m faced with a land like I’ve never seen before.

It was not a “dark and stormy night.” It was a cloudy day: the first of many and the type of which I grew quite fond. Cloudy in Newfoundland was not the boring pale grey skies I was accustomed to. Oh, no. These were skies with intent. In a land with so much character, defined largely by the sea, these skies had their own opinion. Shooting in black and white, I came to the realization that here was a brand new palette. Oh yes, this is going to be fun. My real education in Newfoundland was about to begin and it would open my eyes.

Earlier I wrote of the isolation I sought to portray and I found it. But looking back, I came to realize I was imposing my own projection of that onto the landscape. It didn’t need my help. In doing so, it took me quite some time to realize that I was missing the real story here. Really, quite some time. But I pressed on…without a license and without a clue.

Sinking in the fog.

14 Monday Nov 2011

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What is it about fog that lends itself to: romance; fear; danger; mystery; sadness; and a whole host of other emotions? Personally, I like fog. I like how it quietly transforms whatever it envelops into something new and somewhat other-worldly. It lends itself to the imagination. Sounds change. Landscapes can disappear, reappear, and disappear once again as if attempting to hide themselves and their secrets. It is the stuff of Sherlock Holmes.

One evening while sitting in a St. John’s restaurant situated on top of a hill, I watched the fog slowly climb up that hill as if devouring everything in in its path. It was like watching a city sink into a calm sea. With it came the transformation of sight and sound. Fog horns, doleful sounding all on their own, took on a particularly melancholy tone. Street lights became Spielbergian in quality with an anticipation of something unexpected and not necessarily good about to happen. People magically appear out of nowhere, as if lurking, waiting for the right moment to reveal their intentions.

As a come-from-away (not from Newfoundland), I enjoy the fog. Newfoundlanders, not so much. It makes fishing and driving that much more dangerous and slow. It also obscures the sun. In a land of rain, snow, and fog, the sun is much desired. When it shines on Newfoundland, it is glorious and friendly. I like the sun too, but the mystery inherent in fog calls to me.

Scrunchions and my new BFF.

12 Saturday Nov 2011

Posted by in Culture, Fish, Food, Newfoundland, Observations, Uncategorized

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Pretty much every culture has a way of maximizing their foods and recycling heretofore inedible scraps of food detritus. And if it’s a fancy restaurant, they’ll give it a posh name and charge dearly for it. How else could one explain veal cheeks? Please do not confuse this with cod cheeks; the concept is the same, the cost is not.

This leads me to the ubiquitous Newfoundland delicacy know as the scrunchion. These are small pieces of pork fatback, that might normally be tossed away, but are fried until rendered and crispy. They’re often used as a flavoring or even a condiment over other foods such as fish or potatoes or the local favorite fish and brewis. For those out there with a theological or Quebecois bent, they are often called orielles de Christ or Christ ears. I’m not certain I want to know why.

 

And this, at my first lunch in Newfoundland, was when I was introduced to scrunchions. I was meeting for the first time the photographer who I had befriended by phone the year before when doing my research. I visited his studio and what I thought would be a cordial introduction turned into a 3.5 hour lunch and discussion. We photographers can talk! What a genuinely nice guy and a really good photographer. We went across the street to a local pub to have lunch. And there was my first encounter with scrunchions. They were sprinkled over my fish and chips. The F&C: good. Scrunchions: like fine scotch – an acquired taste. They were different. And that’s all I’m going to say on that at this time.

My new acquaintance was soon to become my new friend. His help and guidance was invaluable. I might still be up there now driving around, dodging moose, looking for who knows what (and I’m not saying that’s really a bad thing up there) if not for his direction. His wife was just plain charming. We got on so well, we met for drinks later that evening. I was experiencing the unbelievable but natural hospitality of Newfoundlanders. This was going to be great.

You want chips with that?

08 Tuesday Nov 2011

Posted by in Culture, Discovery, Food, Newfoundland, Observations, Travel, Uncategorized

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Newfoundland is not like anywhere else. That’s a good thing. As I mentioned in an earlier post, it’s big – 41,000 square miles of cod-loving goodness. And traveling around the province in the small outports, one can get a real flavor for the island. But try and get something to eat and you’ll find the options limited, some familiar and some perhaps a bit odd. (My favorite was the industrial strength, chocolate-covered graham cracker cookies that stayed fresh for many days and miles.)

First of all, there are no small villages/towns with neighborhood Starbucks. If you walk into a small local grocery store, you likely will not find coffee: soda, yes; coffee, no.  That seems to be reserved for the TCH (Trans Canadian Highway) rest stops. And then, it’s usually Tim Horton’s. In real life, Tim was a hockey player in the NHL, playing for the Toronto Maple Leafs, NY Rangers, Pittsburgh Penguins, and the Buffalo Sabres. After he retired, he founded Tim Horton’s coffee and donuts which ARE infinitely better than DD, in my opinion and they open real early.

Photo – C.Meisterman

So you can’t get coffee off the beaten track which most of Newfoundland is… off the beaten track. But it seems you can always get chips of some sort. Wondrous, fantastical, otherworldly chips . One could feast all day on heart-arresting fare such as Fromage Mordant; Sweet Chili Heat (sort of sounds like a South American dancer!); Roast Chicken chips; Ketchup chips(!); Habanero chips; Chili Cheese Lime chips; Dill Pickle chips; Honey Mustard chips; Doritos 1st Degree Burn Blazin’ Jalapeno chips; Smoky Bacon chips; the punk-rock sounding Blair’s Death Rain (my favorite name) chips of various flavors – the name is enough to make one reconsider their own mortality; and one I won’t be trying next time I’m up there – Fries and Gravy chips! Actually, they might be pretty good.

So no coffee, but chips…as far as the eye can see.

Cod almighty!

05 Saturday Nov 2011

Posted by in Culture, Fish, Food, Newfoundland, Observations, Sea

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A one cent postal stamp.

This is the biggest fish story ever and it’s all true. Really. For over 500 years, cod reigned supreme in Newfoundland. Cod was so plentiful that it was thought that it would never run out. This fish was what the Newfoundland economy was based upon. It, as much as the sea, informed the culture.

And inform it, it did! Commerce for sure, music, comedy (the Codco comedy troupe), art, food (the number of things one can do with cod are staggering, see below, as are some of the ways it’s prepared!), the postal service, and currency (cod as actual currency, then as the coins and paper we’re used to. I’m not sure you would want to keep much of the original stuff in your wallet on a warm day though.). Coins were called by their value: a 25 cent coin was a 25 cent piece. Question: if a coin had a cod on it, could it be called a … oh, you fill in the blank. Postage denominations were varied as were the illustrations. There was of course the requisite cod as well as seals (the cute ones), dogs, various other now dead, possibly famous people, and naturally, the queen. Whether or not they all ate cod is up for debate, but one thing is certain: the cod had as respected a place in Newfoundland as the queen. If they did eat cod, the following may have been on their plates for Sunday dinner.

This could be called a tongue and cheek statement, but it’s really a recipe for cod tongues and cheeks. The cheeks and tongues are considered the most delicate part of the fish and simple to prepare after separating them from the cod proper. They are dragged through corn meal and then fried. Mmmm, good eating. Have them with a side of scrunchions too. Y’s b’y!

50,000+ Tickleasses and watching your step.

01 Tuesday Nov 2011

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If you’re a bird watcher, this is for you. If not, maybe the snarky comments will hold your interest.

Cape St. Mary’s is in the part of Newfoundland, located on the southern tip of the southwestern arm of the Avalon Peninsula, known as the Irish Loop. It plays host to the second largest northern gannet colony in North America. I know you were sitting on the edge of your seat waiting for that one. The Cape St. Mary’s Ecological Reserve is located here. On this rock, this sea-hugging 300 plus foot hill, there are hundreds of thousands of sea birds covering these cliffs. And when they get to their non-stop talking/singing/screeching/cackling/whatever, they sound much like the cast of The View on speed, only louder, much, much louder. After all, there are so many of them and only 4-5 on The View. The good news though is there are no commercials on Cape St. Mary’s.

It truly is a sight to see. The cliffs covered with Murre’s, Gulls of several varieties, Razorbills, and my favorite named the Kittiwake or colloquially known as the Tickleass. The Tickleasses, sorry I can’t help myself, comprise perhaps the largest group of birds there. I won’t bore you with details about coloring etc, except they are just as loud and raucous as the others.

One other thing. I mentioned the cliffs are covered with them. That’s not entirely true. It’s also covered with a lot of guano so watch your step!