Single Malts - and other odd Musings

Newfoundland Landfall

© July '12    photo by smck
© July '12    photo by smck

© July '12    photo by smck
© July '12    photo by smck



© July '12    photo by smck



As the ferry approached Port aux Basque, the land of Newfoundland looming out of the water into the misty gray of the day seemed to conjure the feeling of Cabot and his crew staring at this strange new world. A world of uncharted depths and reefs, a world of dreams of gold and exotic spices, fresh food and water and a myriad of unknown thoughts of the crew. Then a glimpse of another ferry tumbled me back into the 21st century where all was structured for our comfort - port and charts, electronic wizardry like magic pin-pointing our every move. Still the closer glimpse of the barren hills of the coast to our starboard raised that ancient-of-days feeling in me once more and I knew that I was closing in on our anticipated vacation on this great island. The red buoy only some small hundred meters from the shore gave me comfort with its physical presence steering us in measured depth to the dock - although I've no doubt that its innards conceal its own electronic daemons. As we drove away from the dock toward our first ad-hoc day ashore, we said adieu to the ferry, Atlantic Vision, a beautiful well appointed ship - but one inclined to roll easily in the small light waves of our voyage from North Sydney, Nova Scotia to Port aux Basque, Newfoundland, much to my wife's discomfort. Well the return trip would be another ferry and another day.

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